Chapter 6 Morning Light
The first ray of sunlight in the early morning filtered through the iron bars, falling on Jima’s expressionless little face.
She was accustomed to sleeping in late, usually waking up only near noon. But hunger was the best alarm clock; after waking her up four or five times, she finally decided to open her eyes and greet the morning.
Educated by hunger and ambition, Jima resolved to temporarily set aside the dignity of men.
“For the sake of revenge, even Goujian could eat shit,” Jima muttered to herself, “If I just eat that stuff, it shouldn’t be a big deal; it’s essentially just liquid.”
After preparing herself mentally, Jima began to confront the issue.
Wait… Jima suddenly realized she had overlooked something. She quickly opened her personal information panel again, scrolling down to the extraordinary abilities section, which was still locked.
“Succubus Extraordinary Ability: Locked. You cannot activate this ability without consuming the power of lust. It is recommended that you consume at least 10ML of heather-flavored liquid.”
She realized that it wasn’t a requirement to consume heather-flavored liquid, just a suggestion. As long as she absorbed the power of lust, she would be fine.
She hurriedly opened the Succubus Encyclopedia and searched for “Succubus Lust Absorption Guide,” finally finding the information she wanted.
“As long as you seduce a member of the opposite sex and remain within three meters of them, you can absorb their lust. The heather-flavored liquid produced by the target in a short time can be absorbed through contact.”
Jima breathed a sigh of relief; at least it wasn’t as disgusting as oral consumption.
“Note: When you use this primary method of lust absorption, your ‘Charming Aura’ effect will greatly increase. Some of your pores will open, releasing an intoxicating fragrance.”
“The target will gradually enter a state of aggression, harmonizing, harmonizing, harmonizing with you.”
Jima took a deep breath; this was too dangerous. She was still young, still a child; how could she do something like that?
“Of course, for a succubus, this is nothing.”
Very important, right? I want to be a virgin succubus.
Hungry, Jima closed the personal information panel. The external aid could only help her understand herself better; it couldn’t act for her.
Now, she had two choices before her.
First, seek wisdom from a member of the opposite sex. Since it wasn’t her seducing the other party, she could only absorb it through oral consumption.
Second, use the succubus method to “seek wisdom.” Seduce a member of the opposite sex; this wouldn’t be as disgusting. The risk was that the other party might “deliver the goods” to her.
In the sanctuary, the only male she was familiar with was her enemy, George; he was the only target.
Just the thought of having to resort to oral consumption with her enemy made Jima shudder.
“I’d better choose the second option.”
“As long as I use body language to seduce him, making some teasing moves while we interact, that should suffice. If he notices something wrong, I can pretend to be innocent to fool him. Plus, George is the safest option.”
The more Jima thought about it, the more she felt that the second option was especially good.
What could be safer than a herbivorous guy? She even suspected that George had something to hide; if it were her, surrounded by two beautiful flowers, there would have been a follow-up long ago.
After finalizing her rough plan, Jima just needed an opportunity.
In the afternoon, the opportunity came. Amid worry and hunger, Jima received good news.
“You can be released,” a plump woman with a hammer at her waist said. “The tribunal has declared you not guilty, but you must follow George on the path of redemption.”
Thank you, ancestors! George, you are truly loyal; if it weren’t for you giving me thirty green hats, we would have long been good brothers.
Jima smiled and said, “Thank you, George. Thank you, God.”
The woman didn’t want to say much more, waving her hand, “So you will be staying at George’s house today; there is a room for you there.”
“Ah?”
It was practically delivering “goods” to her door.
Before long, accompanied by three matronly guards, Jima walked down the main street, her stomach rumbling along the way, looking rather dispirited.
The clergymen passing by were whispering about her.
Jima pulled down the hood on her head and asked, “I noticed you don’t call George a hero; what’s that about?”
One of the matronly guards, who had ignored Jima all the way, turned her head and shot her a glare, “He was stripped of the hero title for sheltering you.”
Jima wagged her tail happily.
This is karma; if George hadn’t come knocking to stab himself, giving himself a green hat, he wouldn’t have been implicated by her and stripped of his hero title.
However, amidst her happiness, Jima felt a slight guilt. But that tiny guilt was soon overshadowed by excitement.
It was like finding treasure on the roadside. Such a foolish hero just happened to be delivered to her when she needed it; truly, the heavens were watching.
George’s house was a simple stone cottage with a small garden, complete with a chimney.
“In the sanctuary, you cannot roam freely unless accompanied by a guardian.”
With that, the matronly guard closed the door.
Jima glanced at the sparse interior; there wasn’t much furniture—it was empty, just a wooden table, a ceramic jar, and books neatly arranged.
For someone like Jima, who was used to living in palaces, sleeping on feather beds, walking on velvet carpets, and using ivory cups, this was incredibly simple, almost like a thatched hut.
“But he’s a hero; why does he live so frugally? Most of the spoils must have gone to the sanctuary. Religion is harmful.”
Jima immediately began her quest for wisdom. She planned to first understand her target’s information, especially his kinks; knowing this would make things much easier.
The house wasn’t big and had two bedrooms, one of which was locked. After searching all the rooms, Jima confirmed that the locked one was George’s bedroom.
“In a sanctimonious sanctuary, there’s actually the immoral thing of a lock; looks like George lacks ‘faith confidence.'”
After poking around with the iron lock, she concluded that it was something she couldn’t open. She didn’t know how to pick locks.
“If I were George…” she imagined herself in his position and, drawing from her experience as a man, guessed, “…if it were me, I would definitely forget to bring my key sometimes.”
“Well, men are always a bit careless; perhaps he hid a spare key in a corner.”
Jima immediately began searching the house. She checked under the doormat, flipped over potted plants overgrown with weeds, and finally found a cold key under a ceramic jar on the top shelf of a cabinet.
“I’m a genius.”
Jima jumped down from the chair, neatly replaced it, and swished her tail as she ran to George’s bedroom. Aiming at the keyhole, she inserted the key, turned it, and with a pleasant click, the door swung open.
A faint soap scent wafted out. The first thing that caught her eye was an ordinary wooden bed against the wall, topped with a cooling mat, and a blanket stacked like a brick beside the pillow.
Aside from that, there was just a wooden rack for armor, a cabinet, and a desk with ink and pens, while a shelf was stacked neatly with books. Upon closer inspection, they were all various theological texts.
Jima sniffed around, “No heather scent, which means he either doesn’t have the habit of self-pleasure, or he has a cleanliness habit each time.”
George was still young, capable of attending senior high school on Earth. He was at an impetuous age. Although Jima was convinced that religion was harmful, she didn’t believe that studying scripture could truly eradicate desire; that wasn’t reading, it was castration.
“There must be some ‘casting materials.'”
Drawing from her past experience as a man, Jima kept an eye out for anything related to the female form, even poorly drawn illustrations where one couldn’t distinguish gender based on attire.
When young men get excited, even the tiniest thing that reminds them of the opposite sex can become casting materials.
Before long, Jima found four books illustrated with women. Three were theological texts, and one was “Monster Encyclopedia—Complete Guide to Evil Enemies.” The monster illustrations within were quite good, but the only female-related one was the mother goblin.
Jima couldn’t help but wonder if George had ever engaged in sacrilegious acts with the poorly drawn Virgin Mary in the theological texts.
After searching in vain, she returned the books to their places.
“There must be some casting materials, unless he’s not a man, or the casting materials are elsewhere? Impossible; they’re most likely in this secretive bedroom.”
While putting “Monster Encyclopedia—Complete Guide to Evil Enemies” back on the shelf, Jima suddenly noticed that this was only the first volume. She flipped to the contents and found that “Monster Encyclopedia” was organized alphabetically.
The notoriously titillating monster—the succubus—was listed toward the end and should be in the second volume. She searched again and found the middle volume but not the second.
Based on the alphabetical arrangement, the second volume should contain several enticing evil monsters.
“Given his status, it’s impossible for there not to be a second volume.” Jima whistled, “Case solved; he probably discarded the second volume from too much self-pleasure to stop himself from indulging.”
“But I believe it’s impossible to completely eliminate self-pleasure. So… he might be manufacturing his own ‘casting materials’!”
Jima had experienced this firsthand; back when she was still an Earthling, she liked to write snippets of novels by hand to serve as casting materials.
Such indecent things would be hidden away in extremely secretive places. She hurriedly lay down on the ground, searched under the bed, and as expected, found nothing.
“Hmph, this was within my expectations.”
Jima climbed onto the bed and lifted the pillow, “Tsk, how could a fellow man hide things and not find anything?”
After saying that, she pulled back the cooling mat, under which was a light-colored sheet. Sure enough, beneath the sheet, she found several neatly folded papers.
“Dead virgin, I didn’t expect us to be kindred spirits.”
Just the thought of understanding his kinks and increasing her chances of seduction made her feel a thrill of anticipation as she wiggled her light golden tail.
Unfolding the pristine paper, the first image revealed was of a long-eared girl. The artwork was quite good, showcasing a sizable chest and long thighs.
“Tsk, tsk, beautifully drawn; who would have thought he was an artist?”
What was strange, though, was that this should have been an elf but had a shiny tail curled around its thigh.
The second image was a sketch of a noblewoman wearing a metal corset, also sporting a shiny tail.
The third image was of an angelic maiden, and she too had a tail.
The more Jima looked, the more frightened she became; her smile gradually faded.
The fifth and final image depicted a sultry woman kissing a tail.
They all had tails; the dead virgin hero had a tail fetish.
Jima swallowed, turning her head to look at her own tail lifting behind her, the same type as those in the drawings!
She suddenly felt that the second choice didn’t seem as good anymore.
Tsk, who would have thought that the righteous George was actually a hypocritical tail enthusiast behind closed doors.
At that moment, the sound of the main door closing echoed…
