Chapter 145 Chapter 144 Charges
On pale yellow paper, a row of crooked characters is written, all of which are the confession statements personally written by Jima, exuding sincerity and a strong attitude of acceptance of guilt. It makes Jima wish she could sit in a time machine, return to yesterday, grab her own neck with both hands, and shake her back and forth, shouting:
“What are you panicking for? No one is going to die anyway, how can you confess everything?”
“And sign a contract with George!”
“Isn’t it just getting messed up a bit, losing consciousness, and waking up to see the sun the next day? What’s there to be afraid of?”
One can only say that after Jima endured a mixed double beating, she became quite tough.
Jima read through her confession once more, then glanced at the contract with George; the terms were very simple: she was to marry George, and apart from that, it didn’t involve personal assets, only related to having children.
She couldn’t help but sigh.
George, who was beside her, asked, “Are you regretting it?”
“Just lamenting how when people are in a hurry, they’ll agree to anything,” Jima put down the contract emblazoned with the emblem of the God of Dawn and looked at George:
“You are too terrifying a man, carrying a contract on you, and the terms are so restrained, knowing I care about my personal assets, hence it didn’t touch upon property at all.”
George admitted, “This is one of my important life plans.”
Jima recalled having peeked at George’s notebook and seen his plans for her to bear children, saying it was to make her stable and marry him. She didn’t expect this guy to be so serious, without a hint of joking, his execution power was indeed strong.
“What are your other important life plans?”
“I can’t reveal too much.”
“Reveal as much as you can.”
George said seriously, “Be a hero, and if possible, save the world.”
Jima couldn’t help but laugh. George remained unmoved, his azure eyes very serious, and instead, Jima felt a bit embarrassed.
To many people, saving the world is a slogan shouted out of childish ignorance, but for George, he really has that capability.
Jima sighed again.
George stared at her sighing without speaking.
“Why don’t you ask me why I’m sighing again?”
“Can’t guess.”
Jima looked at his face, recalling what happened last night, her face slightly flushed.
She personally felt how George mastered the “Nine Yin Manual”, from entry level to proficiency, ultimately dizzying her, his own teacher.
In the area she excels in, Jima now felt only a faint sense of defeat; because last night when George defeated her, she had already tasted the intense frustration—being a demon lord felt like a complete failure, utterly overwhelmed in almost every aspect.
But now Jima felt nothing was that serious anymore.
Being a demon lord was no big deal; whether she was one or not was just a segment of memory. There was no need to get hung up on it; why not consider herself a succubi egg under the demon lord’s claws?
Brave, powerful, and serious George rescues her from the clutches of the evil demon lord, and in the end, the two happily tie the knot.
Jima’s heart felt sweet, yet a hint of bitterness arose.
The memories of the demon lord constantly reminded her that in the past, in the palace, she had thirty maids at her disposal. The smartest among them had racked their brains to study the demon lord’s preferences, designing outfits, scenes, and roles to better serve the demon lord.
But now, at most, she only had two women to court, and she was just one of someone’s harem.
Forget it, the memories are all muddled, why think so much?
Jima picked up her magic pen and placed it on the confession paper, reading line by line:
“Exploiting Jenna’s love for George to deceive her into becoming my disciple, allowing me to ‘teach her hands-on’ because I was tempted by her body, deliberately failing her, and further manipulating her, tricking her into drinking ‘milk.'”
Originally, Jima wrote pretty explicitly, but Eve Frostleaf advised that it’s better to be more tactful when writing on paper; high elves truly are wise.
George nodded, “You can wipe that out; you tricked her into drinking half a bottle, and she poured the remaining half into your mouth, so she accepts your apology.”
Jima crossed out the line above, snorted, “You’ve got it easy, kid.”
“Perhaps this is what you get when you do good or bad,” George said.
Jima turned her face, pouting as she glared at him and continued reading:
“Using Eve Frostleaf’s secrets to blackmail her into dancing together, and harassing me.”
“She forgave you.”
Jima wiped it out, her mind silently wishing that with those long legs, after knowing she was bisexual, she wouldn’t have any rejection towards herself, hoping the saying that ‘girls are all potential bisexuals’ is indeed true.
“Exploiting George’s trust, stealing his treasured armor, pawning it for a loan of thirty thousand gold coins, of which fifteen thousand were used to enjoy personal life, including buying high elf grapes and other various fruits, Bartow knight red wine, tender beef, badlands mushroom meat…”
Had it not been for George stopping her back then, Jima could have written a whole page of menus.
“With clothing, various outfits from three wardrobes.”
“With supplies, various exceptional materials and alchemical materials used for studying alchemical potions, curses, and making disposable treasures.”
“With entertainment, rescuing the young woman from Adolf’s red mill…” One must say, the women employed by Adolf’s mill all missed the generous and open-hearted Jima.
“For self-improvement, using five thousand gold coins to purchase a publishing house and hiring a down-and-out writer as a ghostwriter to write books….”
Hearing this, George opened his mouth, wanting to ask how this would enhance personal strength. But he suppressed his curiosity, as such matters are equivalent to the color of one’s underwear for a transcendent; asking would be quite rude.
Although his relationship with Jima was intimate enough to strip it off, George didn’t want Jima to feel uncomfortable.
And when Jima read up to this point of her crimes, she recalled her upgrade scheme and thought that since she had a system, she also counted as having a cheat. In front of this genius George, she couldn’t help but feel a bit proud.
Even though I lost to you in the area I excelled, I have a cheat.
Jima pretended to be casual:
“Well, I’ve recently discovered that the fastest and best way to master extraordinary abilities is to write a book.”
“A very strange method.”
“So many people get stuck at a bottleneck throughout their lives, until they die, even geniuses are not spared.”
George agreed, “Yes, bottlenecks are very hard to break through. Every year a new batch of talents or prodigies emerges, but I’ve seen them stuck at bottlenecks in the end, very few can break through.”
Hmph, hearing him say it so empathetically, this little genius from the hall must have also hit a wall, while I have no such distress.
“In just a little over a year, I’ve risen from black iron to platinum.” Jima revealed a “troubled” expression, “It’s really hard to level up so fast; I had to spend a fortune to get better. I’m so broke; the extraordinary materials for upgrades are priced in the market; I have to risk my life. But without money, I can’t even risk my life.”
George said, “If you had told me beforehand, I would have lent you money.”
Forget it, you would have me account for it to ensure it’s only used for upgrades, how could I enjoy myself then?
Jima sighed, “Alas, it’s tough to be poor.”
George said, “Being able to walk the shortcut so smoothly is already more fortunate than most transcendents.”
Jima was satisfied and said:
“I’m not lucky, and my talent isn’t great, but I’ve explored a very useful methodology… by the way, George, are you still stuck at platinum?”
Beg me for advice, come on, I might generously share a sentence or two.
Jima’s tail tip wagged upward.
“No, I’m already at diamond.”
“It’s fine, I’ll help you take a look; maybe I can help you break through the bottleneck—wait! You’re at diamond?”
“Mm.”
The little bit of competitiveness that had risen in Jima’s heart was extinguished by George’s nonchalant reply.
The memories of the demon lord informed Jima that at that time, she relied on the system to gradually strengthen her soul’s intensity, persisting step by step for forty years, until finally holding the ceremony before aging and crossing through the diamond gate, completing the qualitative change in life.
Even though recovering strength theoretically is easier than leveling up, many people, after their strength regresses, can’t climb back up no matter what.
The man before her, not only reached diamond before adulthood, but even if he regressed by two levels, it only took him a little over a year to easily climb back.
Jima gritted her teeth in frustration, reached out, and punched George’s shoulder, saying, “Good, you little brat, secretly became diamond, silently watching me show off.”
George replied, “Show off? Isn’t that a normal thing?”
“I don’t care; stretch out your foot and let me vent my anger.”
“Since speaking the truth hurt your pride….” George stretched out his foot.
Jima jumped up, stepping on a few times to relieve her anger, but the prior sense of superiority as a cheat had vanished without a trace.
“No wonder you were so hot yesterday.” Jima moved her clean little feet away from George’s foot, “I should have thought about it; it must have been because I was dizzy after you scared me yesterday.”
Skipping past this sorrowful episode for Jima, she continued to read:
“The remaining fifteen thousand gold coins (non-cash) are invested in Jenna’s father Aslan’s casino, and I’ve only received one dividend so far.”
After finishing, Jima looked up and asked, “So, how do you plan to punish me?”
“How much money do you have left?”
“One thousand two hundred.”
“You might as well just keep it.” George said, “I only hope you can return my superclass Gothic plate armor soon.”
Jima stretched out two fingers, saying, “How about two years?”
George raised his hand.
“Scumbag, being tough once you’ve pulled up your pants.” Jima said, “I’ve been spanked by you, and I still have to bear your children.”
“Then you cooperate with me to bear children?”
“Think again.” Jima said, “How about two weeks? I’ll return the armor to you in two weeks.”
“Promise me you must fulfill the previous contract you made with him, honestly return the money to him, and must not use extraordinary abilities to do anything bad to him.”
“Is two years okay?”
“Jima.”
“Alright, alright, marrying you, this kind man, really can’t be helped.” Jima sighed as if making a huge sacrifice, “Two months, I’ll redeem your superclass Gothic plate armor in two months. What’s the matter with ten thousand gold coins?”
“You can promise me—”
“Don’t worry, the money is guaranteed to be legal and compliant.” Jima said, “Of course, I can’t guarantee my moral standard for making money is above the average level.”
“I can’t expect too much from you.”
“Wow, I’m so sad. To be honest, what did you think I would do to make money?”
“Find a family with power who loves children, accuse their child of spreading misfortune, use a curse to kill several people to solidify the accusation, and make their family fall ill. Then under the pretext of treatment, deceive them into selling their property, and afterward, you can quietly lift the curse.”
A complete frame-up! I didn’t expect George to think of me as that kind of woman. At this point, if I don’t con the whole family into begging on the streets, what sort of demon would I be?
“You are such a heartless man.”
“Sorry.”
“By the way, how did you come up with that scam?”
“I just thought of the third rule from the ‘Classic Crimes of Dark Sorcerers.'”
As expected, this kind of scam using curses to make money has become quite common.
“Don’t think too badly of me; I actually still have writing talent. Making ten thousand gold coins from selling books isn’t a dream.”
George said, “Unless you can curse all the pirated booksellers to death, and …”
“What else do you want to say?”
“Forget it; the truth hurts.”
“Hey, don’t think I don’t know. You want to say I don’t have the talent to earn ten thousand gold coins through novels.”
George didn’t refute, choosing silence. In that moment, he remembered many famous writers in history who ended up poor due to piracy, publishers stealing their money, and so on.
And Jima seemed to lack any hint of writing talent.
Jima smiled slyly: “But I have that ability.”
As she spoke, she pulled a stack of manuscript paper from her drawer and handed it to George: “Look, this is my new book manuscript, it’s the authentic version.”
George flipped through a few pages and said, “The writing is good, it can touch people’s hearts, and the story flows well, but this protagonist’s name…”
“There are tons of people in the world named Qiao Qiao.” Jima took back the manuscript and said, “So, how about it? Am I very talented in writing novels?”
“But this manuscript isn’t written by you.”
“You actually noticed.” Jima felt displeased, flicking her tail against George’s foot, “It doesn’t matter; as long as it sells well.”
George recalled that brainless plot that didn’t match the writing style and decided it was best to remain silent.
Jima continued, “Since you already know I’ve been using your money for self-improvement, rounding off, isn’t it equal to you investing in me?”
“I feel like I’ve been pulled onto a pirate ship by you.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” It’s just that in the future, a group of readers will be crying, “You need to draw me some illustrations, featuring women with large chests.”
“Okay, but I’m short on time; I can only draw one for you today.”
“Alright, draw a beautiful warrior, with red hair, fiery and bold, wearing bikini armor.”
“What is bikini armor?”
“Just design the underwear to look like armor.” Jima demonstrated, “Imagine her as a dark elf sorceress.”
“Is that reasonable?”
“Entertainment works, entertainment above all, who cares if it’s reasonable or not.”
“I always feel like you can’t earn ten thousand gold coins legally.”
“If I can’t earn it.” Jima thumped her chest, “You and Jenna can come after me with ‘weapons,’ just like yesterday, calling Eve Frostleaf would work as well.”
“Really?”
“Really!”
Speaking of which, in the contract signed with George, Jima has the right to decide whether to bring ‘weapons’ into battle. And if weapons are brought, it can extend Jima’s dizziness time and increase the probability of having children. But George didn’t want to make the battle feel so forced.
As Jima spoke, she secretly drew a line through that crime.
George noticed this little move and said:
“Wait a minute, I haven’t said it’s all wiped clean yet.”
“Ah, you figured it out.” Jima showed no embarrassment, “What other conditions do you have?”
“Now that the punishment is over, you’ve apologized, I’ve forgiven you, and we’ve communicated the return date well, let’s wipe it clean.”
Jima crossed out her wrongdoing, reading out the next one: “All along I harbored malice, always wanting to dig into George’s corner, stealing his childhood sweetheart’s body with vile means, and succeeded, publicly putting a green hat on him.”
Saying that, Jima’s butt started to hurt, and she said, “Sorry.”
“Let’s cross that one out.”
“Mm? That was fast.”
“Because it doesn’t count as a crime.”
“Why?” Jima jumped up instead, “I stole your woman!”
George looked Jima up and down and said:
“Honestly speaking, you and Jenna look really good together.”
“I have malicious intentions!”
“Just thinking that in your heart, but your actual actions aren’t a big crime, at most it’s rude.”
Rude?
Jima, furious, trembled all over, wanting to curse George as a cuckold slave, but thinking again, that seemed to really be the case. How many men get furious when their first wife is on top of the second wife?
Her intent was to dig a corner, but it actually turned into delivering vegetables.
She straightened her face and said, “No! I’m not crossing this one out.”
“It should be removed.” George said, “It doesn’t count as a crime at all.”
“It’s evidently the heaviest crime.”
George insisted on fairness: “It isn’t.”
“It is!”
“It isn’t.”
“It is, it is, it is, it is!”
Jima crossed out the final crime, “So that’s why I wrote it at the bottom.”
Just like that, all the wrongdoings personally written by Jima were wiped clean.
After sending off George and urging him to quickly draw a busty bikini warrior, broodingly, Jima returned to her spacious desk and clapped her hands.
Once the door opened, a plump orange cat arrived via somersault cloud. It was Liansi, who had been abandoned by Jima yesterday, facing the three heroic figures with a mere mortal body wielding a short spear.
Even Jima, the bad woman, couldn’t help but feel a hint of guilt upon seeing Liansi.
The orange cat emitted smoke and transformed into a red-haired cat-eared maid amid the mist.
“Master, I’m sorry!” Liansi immediately knelt down, saying, “I was too weak and couldn’t hold them back, causing the master to fail in her withdrawal. And… and I let the master be tortured, George is too bad, simply a hypocrite, actually ganging up on you, and that woman with long ears is a big pervert; she eavesdropped outside for a whole night, listening to your screams of torture.”
Recalling yesterday’s passionate battle, Jima’s ear tips slightly reddened: “Cough, cough, you were too weak, Liansi.”
Liansi lowered her head, her ears drooping, sticking to her hair: “I’m sorry, Master, please don’t drive away your useless servant.”
“No way.” Jima said, “Who told me I’m soft-hearted? You can stay.”
Liansi broke into a joyful smile: “Thank you, Master!”
“By the way, bring me that guy’s manuscript; I want to correct it.”
That guy refers to Owen Green.
“Okay, Master.” Liansi brought over a stack of Owen Green’s drafts.
Jima stretched her body, her bones cracking, she clicked her finger joints, smiling: “Let me see, what else needs to be revised?”
Before her voice fell, she swiftly drew a red circle on the paper.
“… Another useless supporting character added; do you really like writing ensemble casts that much?”
“Eliminate this character; don’t think I don’t know you don’t like the protagonist, so you wrote in a character you favored, hee hee…”
Her mischievous laughter made Liansi a bit scared, while also unable to help but wipe her tears.
Look, hypocritical George has persecuted the inherently kind Jima into such a state.
