Chapter 72: George’s Mad Pursuer
Early in the morning, the sound of foot traffic on the street came in through the window.
Jima got out of bed, stretched lazily, feeling refreshed. Her little belly rumbled with hunger.
She had indeed eaten a late-night snack last night.
Jima casually grabbed a pair of white stockings from beside her pillow and glanced under the bed, noticing that George was still not awake.
After thinking for a moment, Jima abandoned the idea of putting on the stockings. She planned to wait until he woke up to use the stockings to harvest the “energy” of the virgin.
It was rare for her to get up early today. Jima jumped out of bed, picked up her slippers with her clean little feet and put them on. She walked to the window and pushed it open.
Fresh air with a hint of sea breeze, along with sunlight, fell on Jima’s face.
She took a deep breath and happily squinted her eyes.
For some reason, she felt especially happy today.
Last night, she had a beautiful dream, in which it seemed she had done a great deed. It felt like she had become a fairy godmother, turning Cinderella into a pumpkin carriage and crystal shoes, bestowing upon her the right to pursue happiness.
Jima was so delighted that she considered herself an angel bringing light to the world.
However, she sensed something was off.
Angel? To hell with that! I actually did something that benefits others at my own expense. Is that virgin secretly using something to subtly change me?
Jima shook her head and tried hard to recall what she had done last night.
She opened her “personal system panel” and accessed the task log feature. These tasks were not issued by the system but recorded by Jima herself.
Jima clicked on the highest priority task and looked at its content.
“Objective: Explore Nightmare abilities and determine the requirements for upgrading Nightmare.”
“I plan to lure a 400-pound virgin so I can deceive his feelings and conveniently explore Nightmare abilities.”
That felt comfortable.
A smile returned to Jima’s face.
She saw a beautifully decorated cruise ship docked in front of the inn.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and a subservient, flattering voice came from behind it:
“Sir, there is a noble guest looking for you.”
George quickly got up from the floor and said, “I just woke up.”
“She is waiting for you.”
Then came the sound of footsteps leaving.
“It must be someone from the great benefactor,” George said.
Jima smiled at him, her smile particularly charming.
“Jima, you seem very happy today.”
“Because I dreamed that I did a good deed.”
Jima chuckled lightly, closed the window, and bounced over to the bed to put on the stockings.
She had a breakfast that George had prepared.
Twenty minutes later.
With Jima’s help, George donned his full plate armor and twisted the doorknob.
A shadow fell over him.
“Bang.”
George closed the door.
“Did you see anything just now, Jima?”
“Ah? I didn’t notice.”
George twisted the doorknob again.
The 400-pound figure appeared behind the door. Her massive body stuffed into a white dress, creating a layered look. She smiled and said, “Wow, my prince charming.”
“Bang.”
George shut the door again.
Silence. A long silence. The whole room was quiet.
George said in a daze, “Did I just see an elephant that learned to walk upright? Am I still asleep?”
Jima said, “I think I also saw it. It was a sow, ah no, a person, looks a bit familiar.”
“It’s a person,” George recalled, “She can talk.”
“Seems like the one from yesterday,” Jima said, hugging her giant sword and blinking.
George placed his hand back on the doorknob, and Jima stepped forward, raising her sword and saying, “Should I draw my sword?”
Outside the door.
The 400-pound woman’s face stiffened for a moment. The two maids beside her lost their smiles and said:
“Master, he’s an impolite outsider.”
“Does he not want to see me?” the 400-pound woman muttered sadly.
“Yes, Master, let this ill-mannered guy regret it.”
“Don’t say that, he’s just startled,” the 400-pound woman thought of something and smiled brightly: “Wow, who would have thought he’s both talented and strong? He truly is the knight destined for me.”
The two maids exchanged glances and immediately changed their tune:
“Yes! Just startled.”
The door opened again, and there stood George, wearing a bucket helmet. One hand placed on the hilt of Jima’s giant sword.
The 400-pound woman beamed, her gaze brazenly sweeping up and down George, who was clad in armor, her eyes smoldering as if they could melt steel.
Jima was secretly astonished, trying hard to recall what she had done last night.
It seemed she had borrowed the tested tropes from romantic novels, accurately hitting the G-spot of the 400-pound woman. The memory was a bit fuzzy; she couldn’t quite remember the specific details.
George, hidden under the bucket helmet, remained silent.
Jima broke the awkward silence: “Good morning, esteemed lady!”
At this point, the 400-pound woman finally noticed Jima standing beside George. Her gaze flitted over Jima briefly, after which her gaze sharpened upon seeing the excess flesh.
“And you are?”
Jima lowered her giant sword slightly, bowing politely as she introduced herself:
“Ah, I am his servant. Let me introduce my master, his name is George Hammer, eighteen years old, unmarried. He comes from the beautiful Bartho and has set out on an adventure in search of divine favor. Due to a fit of righteous anger and too much bloodshed, he is cursed by the gods to only speak 140 words a day, and thus he must remain silent. Please do not mind.”
She emphasized the word “unmarried.”
The 400-pound woman’s eyes brightened, feeling that she had encountered her prince charming.
“How tragic,” she said, her voice trembling. “The gods are truly too harsh on valiant knights.”
George coughed heavily and said:
“We don’t know each other. What do you want?”
The 400-pound woman hesitated, for George, fully armed, looked vastly different from the handsome youth painting on the boat yesterday.
She turned her head and asked:
“Is this correct?”
“Yes, it’s room 2-8.”
George looked at the worn copper plaque on the door, which read 2-8. For the first time, he wished 2-8 was the door across the hall, so he could say with confidence, “Room 2-8 is across the hall.”
“So your name is George, what a simple and righteous name,” the 400-pound woman shyly cradled her cheeks, “I met you on the water yesterday, and your profile deeply etched in my mind. A versatile artist like you should receive some deserved sponsorship.”
“No need.”
“George~~”
The 400-pound woman affectionately called George by name. Jima noticed that the usually fearless George actually shivered.
Her tail wiggled with delight.
“Please don’t refuse a lady’s invitation,” the 400-pound woman said. “For so many years, you are the first man who has given me the courage to say I like you.”
The two maids next to her were somewhat stunned. They had never seen their master so… enthusiastic.
“I don’t like you,” George said.
“Feelings can be cultivated,” the 400-pound woman replied. “You have nothing to do today, right? It’s perfect to sit on my bed, ah no, in my boat for a while.”
George tilted his helmet 45 degrees, observing the pair of blue eyes behind the visor, casting a pleading look at Jima.
From his gaze, Jima could sense the warrior’s panic and the impulse to lie.
A sense of happiness surged within her.
Happiness built on the suffering of others feels so real and wonderful. Especially when this happiness is founded on the agony of a mortal enemy.
Jima straightened her face and pretended to be displeased, saying:
“Indeed, my master has nothing to do today.”
The 400-pound woman’s face instantly lit up with joy.
“No, I need to visit a noble,” George said hurriedly.
“Who? How long? When will you be back?”
“It’s none of your business.”
George coldly rejected her. But he found that the 400-pound woman before him looked utterly happy.
“It’s fine, I can wait,” she said softly, falling into a sort of intoxication, murmuring, “This tone is just like the one in my dream.”
Isn’t it? This tone is exactly like the righteous speech he once delivered when he reached my bedroom door.
Jima said:
“Actually, it’s just a matter of delivering a letter and looking for someone.”
“George, that would be wonderful,” the 400-pound woman said, beaming, “I happen to have nothing to do today, I will wait for you.”
George didn’t say a word, quickly pulling Jima out of the inn, hiring a small boat to head toward the market area.
“Jima.” George whispered, “You should have helped me lie just now.”
Jima immediately widened her innocent eyes and said, “But that’s the truth. Didn’t you teach me not to lie?”
George fell silent for a moment, sorting through his memories. He confirmed that he had said less, and the plan to deceive had been proposed by Jima herself.
He said, “The circumstances are different.”
“Oh.” Jima nodded thoughtfully.
George suddenly felt that he was teaching Jima badly, and asked:
“Did you really speak the truth because you didn’t want to lie?”
Jima was very honest, “No.”
“Then, why not?”
Jima blinked and watched him silently as George had done.
George guessed that he had offended Jima somehow and began to reflect on whether he had stepped on her tail or something.
After about ten minutes of thinking.
George finally realized: “Jima, did my question yesterday make you angry? If so, I’m sorry?”
For his rock-like brain, figuring this out was quite challenging.
Jima turned her face away, looking at the foam on the water, which the boat’s movement pushed away, remaining silent.
“Jima, Jima, Jima.”
George kept calling her name.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t ask such questions in the future.”
Jima felt a bit scared.
What if this guy finds out it was me who made the 400-pound woman pursue him? Would he get so angry that he would beat me to death?
However, this fear quickly dissipated.
As long as no one knows, it will be fine, right?
She turned her head, facing away from George, a faintly wicked smile creeping onto her lips.
“Gurgle, gurgle.”
Her stomach growled in hunger.
“Oh right, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” George slapped his helmet and gently bumped into Jima.
Jima exclaimed: “The boatman is stopping right up ahead; we need to buy breakfast.”
The small boat stopped at the steps, and the two of them got ashore and walked towards the bakery. There were many people at the bakery, and they were just about to queue.
A woman’s voice came from behind: “Master, this is your breakfast.”
They turned around and saw four maids appearing behind them out of nowhere. The middle maid was holding a tray with delicious fruit pie and milk.
A flower boat had appeared on the river at some point.
“George~~.” The 400-pound woman on the flower boat blew a kiss at George, “A breakfast made with love by me, don’t be polite.”
George took a half step back, urging Jima to walk quickly.
Jima was about to take the tray and thanked the maid, saying, “Thank you on behalf of my master.”
George quickly pulled her away, dragging her with him.
