Chapter 120 The Waterman’s Duty
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Another unremarkable morning. I was approached by a resident of the Imperial Capital with a job request.
This sort of thing happens quite often. Over ten thousand men visit the Imperial Capital in a year, so the mail slots at local inns are daily stuffed with desperate pleas from people hoping for a miracle. For us, it’s a daily routine-tearing these letters to pieces while savoring the validation of being sought after. A commoner’s petition is an impudent thing, really. But then again, if they stopped coming, the lack of being needed would probably just piss me off.
This time, the request came from the head of the Watermen Guild ¹. Apparently, they wanted me to help a rookie waterman get used to being around males.
I decided to take the job.
A “waterman” is essentially a gondolier. The Imperial Capital is veined with countless waterways, much like Venice, where tourists and locals alike traverse the city by boat. They were asking for my help in training the next generation of sailors who navigate the capital’s arteries. There was a specific reason for the request, it seemed: a male’s “assistance” was indispensable for a waterman to truly master their craft.
High-ranking nobles staying for long durations often get these miscellaneous requests. The payment isn’t money, but social capital-favors in the world of etiquette and the empty praise of “contributing to society.” If you rack up enough “virtue points,” you can maneuver more easily at tea parties. Neither of those things has any use for me.
The reason this specific request caught my eye was that it was addressed to me personally. The struggling waterman happened to be a friend of Biwa-chan. She was using her connections. And so, I set out to handle it.
Before we started, I issued an “elegant” request of my own to Biwa-chan when she arrived to collect me.
”A footbath…?” she asked.
”Exactly. I’ve been trying to live a more sophisticated, curated life lately. I want to realign my aura before I start working.”
”What is that even… I’ve never heard of such a thing…”
”It’s all the rage among the young men in the Capital right now. I’m quite into it. Though, I’ll probably be over it by tomorrow,” I replied.
”If you say so… Uh, well, if you just need hot water, there’s a Turkish bath ² nearby. I’m sure they could accommodate you.”
She looked genuinely bewildered. Apparently, she didn’t know of any specialized footbath shops. Even though she’s a Shafu ³ and knows the city well, she doesn’t know everything. Or perhaps the concept of a footbath just hasn’t hit the mainstream here yet.
”If a noble asks, they’ll do it,” she continued. “I’ll go ahead and explain for you. You just need to soak your feet in the water, right?”
”That’s it. …Wait, a ‘Turkish bath’? Is that the kind of place where something erotic is going to happen to me?”
I seemed to recall that being an old euphemism for a soapland back in my old world.
”There’s no way a shop like that exists in this city! It’s a massage parlor! With private baths!” she barked.
”Right, of course. My mistake for getting my hopes up. Want to join me?”
”Don’t say such stupid things! It’s not proper! There’s just a blind old granny there anyway. Please, just go by yourself,” Biwa-chan said, flushing.
When we arrived, it turned out to be a sauna house. They didn’t actually offer footbaths, but since I’m a noble, the staff scrambled to accommodate me the moment I stepped through the door.
Since it was before opening hours, they fired up the kilns in a frantic rush. A blind old masseuse was summoned from a nearby basement. She submerged my feet in warm water and, wearing gloves, gave me a scrub and a massage. Because I’m in a child’s body, it didn’t actually feel that great, but at least I’d checked the first item off my schedule. Maybe the sense of accomplishment was the real point.
After that, we headed to the usual deserted alleyway, beneath the cherry tree. This is where I usually get my “morning energy.”
”Could you do what you did the other day?” I asked.
”I will not,” she replied firmly.
”I’d really like you to, though.”
”I said no! Wasting your seed is practically a sin ssu!”
Biwa-chan wouldn’t budge. I can fry her brain easily enough, but her baseline ethics are unusually high. She’s a wholesome, athletic type. Even if she does have that incredibly erotic brown skin…
”If I don’t expel the toxins from my body, my vibrations will be all out of alignment.”
”You used that exact excuse yesterday!” she countered. “Telling me your ‘important place’ was itchy and you might be sick, and then that ‘doctor play’ nonsense… talking about how saliva has disinfecting properties… Besides, seed isn’t a toxin ssu!”
In this world, s**men is often treated as something sacred. It’s seen more as a medicine than anything else.
”So, what’s the ‘illness’ this morning, then?” she asked, sighing.
”Would you prefer a rash or a swelling?”
She closed her eyes and turned her head away.
”I’m not falling for that again. I am a respectable Shafu, not some… instruction manual. Please, rely on someone whose role it is. If you’re really feeling unwell, I’ll go find someone for you.”
”I can only ask you, Biwa-chan. You’re the only one not interested in men. It’s too embarrassing to ask an adult male.”
”That’s… but… even so…”
The excuse was wearing thin, but this was a story Biwa-chan had started, and it wouldn’t end until she decided to end it.
The outcome was always my victory. In the end, a female who feels needed by a male simply cannot say no.
She knelt on the ground before me as I sat on the bench. I exposed myself to her. Biwa-chan gasped, the sound catching in her throat. Slowly, as if touching a fragile piece of glass, she wrapped her hand around my member. She brought her trembling lips close.
”Hie… I… I…” she stammered.
I nudged the tip against her nose, and I saw her nostrils flare.
”Ah… h-uh…”
Her cheeks flushed crimson instantly. Then, slowly, she began to take me into her mouth.
”Mmm… fu… Is this… right ssu?” she mumbled.
”Perfect.”
The inside of her mouth was warm and wet. Her tongue flicked against the glans, hesitant and fearful.
”Mmm… mm… hngh…”
Her breathing grew heavy.
”Mmm… I… mm…”
Biwa-chan stayed on her knees, sucking me off.
”This is wrong… it’s a sin… mm… I shouldn’t be doing this…” she whispered between breaths.
I reached down and stroked her head as she bobbed back and forth. Her brown skin was radiating heat. The physical contact was clearly overloading her virginal body. I saw one of her hands beginning to drift toward her own crotch.
”Mmph… I can’t stop… Mmm… mm…”
Tears welled in her eyes. She kept them squeezed shut, trying to maintain some shred of focus. But it was a losing battle. My body isn’t a drug you can escape just by closing your eyes.
”Mmm… nn, hgh. Ah…!”
The pace quickened. I kept stroking her hair, rewarding her effort. After a moment, I quietly let myself go.
”Mmm…!!”
With a series of sharp jolts, her mouth was filled and defiled. The white liquid surged out, its scent piercing her senses like a physical shock.
”Mmmph?!” she choked out.
”Ah, sorry. I didn’t give you any warning. Good girl… thank you for always working so hard for me.”
”Cough… hack“
”You okay?”
”Ugh… cough. I told you this was no good… we have to stop this… it’s a sin. I feel like I’m slaughtering a thousand children ssu,” she said, her voice trembling.
”If you seem okay, could you lick off the rest and clean me up? It’ll feel gross if I put my clothes back on like this.”
”I… I understand ssu.”
With tears in her eyes and her body shaking violently, Biwa-chan began to lick the remaining s**men from my c**k.
”I’m always grateful to you. I can get through the day because you’re here.”
”Please… don’t say that. If you say things like that… I’ll never be able to quit ssu,” she said.
The “wasteful” mindset and the guilt of defiling a male were tearing her apart. But at the same time, the intimacy we shared was clearly the greatest happiness she’d ever known. Being relied upon by a male, being allowed to touch him, and providing him satisfaction through her own body… for a female, there is no greater source of pride or confidence than making a man come without causing him pain.
These decadent days were giving her more happiness than she’d find in ten regular lifetimes. Probably.
”Ah, this is so healing. Way better than a footbath. Doing this really makes me feel like a truly wicked noble. Getting a b**job from a child while looking up at the sky and enjoying the scenery… it’s good to be alive. Or maybe a guy like me shouldn’t be allowed to live? Well, I’m not hurting anyone. Except maybe Biwa-chan…”
Biwa-chan continued to lick me clean, coughing occasionally, fighting a desperate, losing battle to keep her hand away from her own crotch.
”Uu, uu… hngh… no… I can’t…” she whimpered.
In the end, she couldn’t help herself. She started masturbating right there.
”The scent… it’s so thick… mm… ugh…”
Anyway, I stared off into the distance, feigning total ignorance of the world.
Cherry blossoms danced through the crystal-clear sky of a perfect spring day.
Clouds drifted at a leisurely pace, and the road ahead was practically drowning in sunlight.
If I let my gaze drop just a few inches, I’d see the girl who was so head-over-heels for me busy pleasuring me.
I felt a poem coming on.
The wind rises,
At the loquat’s foot,
The horsetail sprouts.
Is that white dew ascending,
Or a vapor trail in the sky?
…Not half bad.
Actually, it’s pretty damn sophisticated.
”I’ve managed to craft something better than I expected,” I thought to myself. “The ‘wind rises’ captures the weather while doubling as a nod to my own ‘rising’ situation. At the base of the loquat tree-which blooms just before the spring-the tiny horsetails are poking through, and the life I’m about to release inside her is that white vapor trail. It’s a perfect Kyoka⁴-a mad poem-evoking the image of a boy taking flight into the summer sky.”
Besides, the commission for this little service was effectively zero sen⁵.
I’d just birthed a masterpiece that would probably get me lynched by a distribution company. Eroticism really does turn a man into a philosopher or a poet.
I should definitely have Natsume Soseki-san grade this later. Ichimatsu is out of the question; she has no appreciation for the poetic soul of a man.
She’d likely just bash me over the head with her cane.
* * *
I stepped from the landing onto a small skiff.
It was shaped like a bamboo leaf, no bigger than a small gondola. It could hold five people at most.
The Imperial Capital⁶ is carved up by thousands of these narrow waterways, most barely five meters wide.
The boats act as a free taxi service for tourists.
Unlike the lagoons of Venice, this is fresh water.
It’s clean enough to drink. These canals nourish the Capital’s greenery, temper the climate, and funnel a fresh breeze through the entire town.
I brought Biwa-chan along for the ride.
It was her introduction, and she’d be useless for work after this anyway. It felt a bit cruel to just leave her behind.
However, she wasn’t the main attraction today.
”If you work with your head, you’ll butt heads with the world. Row with your heart, and the current will carry you away,” a girl sang.
She stood at the prow of the boat, her voice clear.
She thrust a long bamboo pole into the canal, pushing off the riverbed.
”If you insist on your way, it’s a tight squeeze; the world of man is a hard place to be. If it’s all the same wherever you land, let’s just drift wherever the water goes. With my hat and my rudder as my only friends, the deck of this boat is the home I call mine. Three houses across and neighbors on both sides-the carp and the minnows are my family.”
The girl had hair the color of a crow’s wet wing-a silky, dark teal tied back neatly under her bamboo hat.
I watched her from the rear seat.
The water was so transparent I could see every pebble on the shallow bed.
Every now and then, a rusted-out medium bus sat submerged on the bottom.
The chassis would be snapped in two, the yellow paint flaking off in chunks. They looked ancient.
Supposedly, these buses act as a purification system. It was a total paradox-even with carp and turtles swimming around, the water didn’t have that fishy, stagnant stench of a temple pond.
It was a mystical object-a “fish can’t survive in pure water, so we used a bus” kind of vibe.
The waterman’s cheerful song was swallowed up by that colorless, silent flow.
”Mhm… Right… I see…”
The waterman-Ryoko-chan-would occasionally drop her gaze to the water’s surface.
Having reached some internal conclusion, she hooked her foot onto a peg halfway up the bamboo pole and gave it a powerful kick.
The pole struck the riverbed like a stilt, and the skiff lunged forward with a jerk.
”Who is she talking to?” I asked.
”She’s consulting with the river spirits-ssu,” Biwa-chan replied. “That’s just how ferrymen are. Once they get their hands on that mystical bamboo pole, they start hearing the river’s voice-ssu.”
”Huh. Fancy that,” I said.
Asking Biwa-chan was a waste of time.
There were only three of us on the boat: the waterman, Biwa-chan, and me.
We glided effortlessly through the waterways.
”Anyway, thank you so much for agreeing to this today. No one else would take the job, and I was at my wit’s end-ssu,” Biwa-chan said.
”Don’t worry about it,” I replied. “She’s your friend, right? Besides, I was also asked by the boss of waterman Union and the girl’s mother.”
I’d already received a formal letter of appreciation, and I hadn’t even started.
I could feel their desperation-they didn’t want to lose this connection to me, even if it came through a “lowly” source like Biwa-chan.
The only requirement for the contractor was that their “misogyny” was weak.
No special skills required.
Finding the right person must be a nightmare for the client, but for me, it was just another simple Townsperson Quest.
”After all, that waterman kid is a bit… slow,” Biwa-chan muttered. “If we asked one of the other nobles who helps the Union, they’d probably lose their temper with her-ssu.”
”I think I get what you mean,” I said.
We both looked at the girl at the bow.
Ryoko-chan, Biwa-chan’s childhood friend, was an apprentice waterman.
She was two years younger than me, making her a full thirteen.
She was an incredibly spacey, gentle girl.
The reason she was rowing us today was for her official licensing exam.
It wasn’t quite as intense as being a Shafu⁷, but ferrymen still have to operate in close proximity to males. They have to be desensitized.
Rickshaw pullers use extra-long handles to maintain distance, or even stuff oiled paper up their noses to block their sense of smell, all to ensure they can transport a customer without losing their cool.
…Honestly, it’s like men are some kind of airborne allergen.
But a waterman has to be even more careful.
Accidents on the water are far more grave.
If the boat drifts into a bridge or a bank, it’s a disaster. And if a noble loses their footing while boarding or disembarking, the waterman has to be ready to catch them.
One “splash” and you’re fired.
You’d be tossed into the deepest pits of the underground for slave labor. You’d never see the sun again. And if the noble-or her husband-demanded it, you’d be executed on the spot.
And even then, a waterman has it easy.
There are worse places to work.
I’ve heard that attendants who help noble males dress have to sign employment contracts involving a “curse” mystical object. If they feel a hint of arousal and offend the client, their bodies literally begin to rot.
Some buildings are even rigged like dungeons-if a servant acts rudely to a man within the premises, the traps trigger automatically.
The people of the Capital are wealthy and live close to men, but the danger is everywhere. It’s the total opposite of the countryside.
The strategy today was to use me-someone with an unnaturally high tolerance for being near females-to get Ryoko-chan used to the presence of a man.
A little meddling from her concerned social circle.
Personally, I thought using a “toxic substance” like me was a massive lapse in judgment… but I’d been asked, so I’d give it my all.
I suspect Biwa-chan was partly confident she could keep me from going too far, and partly just wanted to show off her intimacy with me to her friend.
”So, should I just start touching her?” I asked.
”Yes… um… though using her nickname like that feels a bit too familiar-ssu…” Biwa-chan replied.
”Ryoko. I’m going to touch you now,” I said.
”Please… go ahead…” Ryoko-chan whispered.
I sounded like some kind of arrogant, silver-tongued bastard.
She took off her hat, and I reached out to touch her cheek.
”How’s that?” I asked.
”It feels… soft. It’s a good feeling…” Ryoko-chan said quietly.
”I’m going to rub it now,” I said.
”…It’s warm,” she replied.
In any other situation, simple “proximity” is the absolute limit for a commoner and a noble. But ferrymen are an exception.
There are actually a fair number of male “volunteers” who do this. They get compensated and act like big shots in polite society for their “sacrifice.”
Ryoko-chan’s head began to bob.
”Wait-is she falling asleep?” I asked.
”Ryoko! Hey! Damn it, she’s always like this-ssu!” Biwa-chan shouted. “He came all this way to help, and you’re being incredibly rude!”
”I’m sorry, Biwa-chan,” Ryoko-chan said.
”Don’t apologize to me!” Biwa-chan snapped.
Ryoko-chan just drifted there, her eyes vacant and airy.
She was the kind of girl who looked happy for no reason at all.
”Does she just… not get excited by men?” I asked.
”She hasn’t reached that stage yet,” Biwa-chan replied. “She’s a natural-born talent when it comes to this, though.”
Biwa-chan made a sour face and patted her own forearm.
Apparently, her rowing technique was flawless.
”Well, Ryoko-chan? Feel anything?” I asked.
”I don’t know…” Ryoko-chan replied.
”And here I am, going out of my way to touch you,” I said. “You’ve got some nerve.”
”Um… well… I think… ‘I am being touched,’” Ryoko-chan said.
”I’m touching your butt now. How about that?” I asked.
”I think… ‘My buttocks are being touched,’” she replied.
”Heh. Not bad. No reaction even to that? You’re an interesting woman,” I said.
Ryoko-chan was at a loss. I was at a loss.
She was just so incredibly laid-back.
”I’m starting to get a little annoyed,” I muttered. “Looking at those pouty lips makes me want to shut them up with a kiss.”
”Whoa… your face is really close,” Ryoko-chan said.
No progress.
Since there are so many females, you occasionally get these girls whose development is totally stunted.
The growth cycle for females is different.
With men, the “misogyny” always hits at the same time-starts at six, finished by ten.
But female s*xuality is all over the map. It feels like there’s way more “individuality” here than in my previous life.
Of course, just because she doesn’t look at me with “dirty” eyes doesn’t mean men will actually like her. Men are allergic to the dish itself; a little change in seasoning isn’t going to fix that.
”Maybe I’ll get a little adventurous and try a different spot on your body,” I said.
”Yes… please do…” Ryoko-chan replied.
There is a field of research known as Body Mapping ⁸. It is essentially a diagram illustrating the varying degrees of resistance a human being feels when touched.
From the wrists to the fingertips, people – regardless of gender – show almost no resistance at all. The next most relaxed zones are the arms and shoulders. The torso and back are also relatively tolerable.
Conversely, the places no one wants to be touched are, for a male, the face and the genitals. For a female, it is the breasts and the genitals. Resistance is notably higher at the base of the breast than at the top.
”Would you mind opening your collar a bit?” I asked.
”Yes…” Ryoko-chan murmured.
”You’re totally flat,” I noted.
”Mm…” she whispered.
”So even touching your chest is off-limits? Well, I’m already here. I might as well have a taste,” I said.
She was deeply moved. She was overcome with a strange sort of gratitude. However, this wasn’t s*xual arousal; it was simply the thrill of interacting and being touched by a male with such ease. She hadn’t actually learned to master her own desires yet.
Perhaps I should let her touch my side instead. After all, the original goal of her training was to learn how to support and embrace a man.
”Look. You put this rod inside, and I’ll give you the stuff babies are made of,” I explained.
”Oh…” she gasped.
”Want to feel it?” I asked.
”Yes…” she replied.
”Well? How is it?” I questioned.
”It’s so… soft… Wow…” she said breathlessly.
”Don’t ‘wow’ me, you pervert-ssu! What the hell have you two been doing?!” Biwa-san shouted.
I was being scolded by the local “Lolicon Police ⁹.”
”Oh, come on. Biwa-san, you’re just seeing what you want to see. Don’t be like that,” I said.
”Biwa-chan, what’s wrong? You’re acting… a little weird, aren’t you?” Ryoko-chan asked innocently.
”I am NOT, NOT, NOT the one being weird-ssu! I promise you!” Biwa-san screamed.
Justice lost to democracy. In the end, the world is just a numbers game.
For what it’s worth, Biwa-san had grown used to men – at least enough to chat with me while panting as she pulled the shafts of the rickshaw. She’d leveled up, gaining a “composed mind” that let her speak without total paralysis. She might actually attract some customers now. Even now, we were actually holding a proper conversation.
”It’s so different from the stories of the nobles I was taught-ssu. I’m shocked. Ryoko-chan is just being her usual self, but still…” Biwa-san noted.
”Just figure my social disconnect is a reward for being a saint in a previous life,” I said vaguely. “I’ve been this way forever.”
Biwa-san looked troubled. Honestly, I was having trouble explaining it myself.
”You must have built up an incredible amount of karma in your past life,” Biwa-san said.
”It’s a common enough story, right?” I replied.
”Well, I guess. Retribution has been the go-to threat for sermons since forever. ‘Do bad things and you’ll stop being human; you’ll be a beast in the next life.’ I’ve been so sacrilegious lately, it scares me,” Biwa-san admitted.
”Actually, I heard something like that at the temple too. Lately, the trend seems to be turning into some hideous monster,” I added.
I could see the headache I’d have later if I warped her view of men too much, so I made sure to remind her occasionally that I am the one who is abnormal.
* * *
I decided to have Ryoko-chan teach me how to handle the boat. It was pure curiosity on my part.
”The voices… they just flow right to me. There’s a ‘good child’ in the water, so I grab them with a sharp thrum. Once I’ve caught the current, I just push the pole with a silken hiss and give it a solid jolt where I want to go,” Ryoko-chan explained.
”Ah, she’s a total sensory type,” I muttered to myself.
Listening to her explanation was going nowhere, so I decided to just grip the bamboo pole myself. As we drifted with the river’s flow, an elegant crag appeared ahead.
”I want to steer clear of those rocks. How do I move the boat?” I asked.
I decided to ask the river. If you have this “Yagiri crossing ¹⁰” mystical object, that’s exactly what you can do.
‘Clockwise vortex ahead. Pivot left.’
‘There’s a heavy current in the deeps; just ride it out.’
‘If you drift left, the pull gets stronger. Don’t do it.’
‘Plant the pole now or you’ll hit the right eddy!’
‘Maybe it’s fine like this…’
‘Reverse! There’s a submerged rock and the surface tension is too high!’
‘Left! Left!’
‘No, the right flow just shifted. Go right!’
I heard the voices of a dozen different people all talking at once. What a mess. And they were all contradicting each other.
”Which one am I supposed to listen to?” I asked Ryoko-chan.
”How many did you hear?” she asked.
”About thirty. And they’re all saying different things,” I replied.
”Um… every single one of those voices is ‘correct.’ They’re all desperately trying to guide me, so I feel like I have to work hard to listen to every one of them…” Ryoko-chan explained.
Ryoko-chan shifted her standing position ever so slightly. That was all it took. The course of the small boat shifted. Like a bamboo leaf on the wind, we bypassed the crag with a natural grace. She steered the entire thing just by shifting her weight. Her technique was terrifyingly good.
”The Yagiri crossing… is my friend,” Ryoko-chan said with a faint, ethereal smile.
The Yagiri crossing bamboo pole is a mystical tool for hearing the water’s intent. A river is a chaotic mess of forces and vectors. Even if it looks smooth, the strength of the flow is constantly changing based on depth, curves, and hidden obstacles. Every single one of them speaks to me.
Which advice you take is up to you. You choose which “voice” to follow based on where you want to go. Since you have to pick the optimal solution in real-time, the skill of the pilot is everything. They say a master can have a silent dialogue just by holding the pole, even in the middle of a flash flood.
Ultimately, the user becomes far more intimate with the boat and the river than someone using a simple magical item that just moves the boat where they want. You could survive a storm in pitch blackness or a dam burst. You could even conquer the supernatural rapids of a dungeon that defy human logic.
This isn’t just a tool; it’s a craft.
”To me, they sound like my grandmother,” Ryoko-chan said.
”In my case, it was a chaotic mob,” I replied.
The voices manifest as an image of whoever the user perceives as a teacher.
”So it’s just a phenomenon that translates water flow data into auditory signals in the brain? The water isn’t actually talking?” I asked.
”Oh… is that… so?” Ryoko-chan asked, her shoulders slumping.
”Sorry, I lied. I mean, you could say the flow of the water is the river’s voice. I think the idea of the river being your friend and talking to you is lovely,” I said.
”Oh… right! I thought so… That’s a relief,” she said, her peace of mind returning.
It really is a poetic little artifact.
Just sticking the pole in the water and having a “conversation” is actually pretty fun. Apparently, some kids get so obsessed they play with it all day, like a child watching an ant farm. From morning to night, alongside the water striders and dragonfly nymphs, they play with the brook’s voice, pole in hand. Those are the children who grow up to be ferrymen.
I spent a while playing in the river like that, staying in close contact with Ryoko-chan. We skipped stones, teased some frogs, and relieved ourselves behind the irises.
Suddenly, Ryoko-chan’s body gave a sharp flinch.
”…Ah!” she gasped.
”What’s wrong?” I asked.
”I’m scared… My body feels… strange. Biwa-chan, help me…” she cried.
Her cheeks were flushed crimson. Her breathing was ragged, heavy with excitement. She was terrified by the change happening inside her. I hurriedly pulled my hands away.
”Something’s wrong. My heart is… it won’t stop pounding…” she said.
”Hey, come here,” Biwa-san called out. “There’s nothing to be scared of. You finally became ‘normal.’ You should be happy.”
”No! I want to go back…” Ryoko-chan whimpered.
”Congrats, kid. It’ll settle down in a bit,” Biwa-san said.
Ryoko-chan’s eyes met mine.
”…Uu… ah…” she let out a small, stifled sound.
She immediately averted her gaze. The difference from just a few minutes ago was staggering.
One day, in a single moment, s*xual awakening arrives without warning. It might be seeing a girl’s underwear in grade school, or the accidental brush of an older woman’s backside on a crowded train. It’s an ancient memory every man carries – and it had finally come for her.
She had gained a dark, carnal resolve.
Welcome to the world of men! It’s painful as hell from here on out – but it’s a lot of fun!
* * *
After that, we did some rescue drills. When I intentionally fell into the river, Ryoko-chan used the momentum of the boat to yank me back in. She kicked off the gunwale with raw power – her handling skills really are top-tier. Now that she’s “broken out of her shell” regarding contact with men, we decided she was ready to handle the male passengers she was originally supposed to serve.
Quest complete. As a reward, the Master of the Merchant Guild Yagiri gave me a book of “Special Seat” tickets for future crossings.
As I stepped off the boat, Biwa-san’s rickshaw was already waiting. It’s a bizarre system where if you throw the rickshaw into a giant hole in the ground at the starting point, it somehow beats you to the destination.
”See ya. Next time, maybe I’ll let Ryoko-chan grip my other pole… for a different kind of practice. Think you can handle that?” I asked.
”Yes… I’ll… do my best…” she replied.
I managed to avoid the absolute worst goodbye and parted ways with her.
That afternoon, at my next destination, I was unexpectedly invited to a high-society gala hosted by a noble family. There, I found myself staring at a very familiar face.
—
Summary:
The protagonist accepts a training request from the Watermen Guild through Biwa-chan’s connections. After a self-indulgent morning visit to a sauna for a makeshift footbath, he coerces Biwa-chan into an intimate encounter in a secluded alley. The chapter explores the protagonist’s manipulative behavior and Biwa-chan’s internal struggle with her own desires and societal ethics.
The protagonist receives a special ‘quest’ to help desensitize an apprentice waterman, Ryoko-chan, to the presence of men. They board a small boat through the canals of the Imperial Capital, where the protagonist attempts various physical interactions to gauge her reaction. Despite his efforts, Ryoko-chan remains unusually spacey and unresponsive to s*xual or social stimuli.
The narrator trains Ryoko-chan in physical contact and boat handling. During a river excursion, Ryoko-chan uses a mystical bamboo pole to navigate by listening to the river’s ‘voices.’ The chapter culminates in Ryoko-chan experiencing a sudden s*xual awakening/self-awareness after prolonged contact with the narrator.
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Trivia:
- The ‘Turkish bath’ is a dated Japanese euphemism for a s*x work establishment (soapland).
- Semen is culturally viewed as a sacred medicine in this world, not just a biological fluid.
- The protagonist is currently occupying a child’s body, which adds a layer of predatory dynamic to his interactions.
- Biwa-chan’s role as a ‘Shafu’ implies she is a professional driver/porter, but she is easily swayed by noble status
- The ‘bus’ in the canal is actually a mystical object for water purification.
- Men in this world have a literal ‘allergic’ reaction (misogyny) to women, but the protagonist’s version is ‘weakened’.
- Ryoko-chan is consulting with ‘river spirits’ through her bamboo pole.
- The protagonist is 13 years old, the same age as Ryoko-chan.
- Failing to support a noble on a boat leads to immediate slave labor or death
- The ‘Body Mapping’ research sets the stage for the narrator’s predatory manipulation.
- The Yagiri pole translates water data into auditory hallucinations of a ‘teacher.’
- Biwa-san’s ‘Lolicon Police’ persona is an recurring gag but also a moral compass.
- The ‘other pole’ line at the end is a deliberate crude double-entendre referring to the narrator’s genitals
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Character Insight:
The protagonist shows a lack of empathy, viewing his manipulation of Biwa-chan as ‘healing’ for himself while acknowledging it might be harmful to her. Biwa-chan demonstrates a deepening psychological dependency on being ‘needed’ by the protagonist, despite her vocal protests.
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Behind the Scenes:
The author uses the protagonist’s past-world knowledge (Venice, Turkish baths) to contrast with the fantasy setting’s norms.
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TL Notes:
Notes:
• Biwa – A young female servant with erotic brown skin and an athletic build. Highly ethical but easily influenced by the protagonist. Childhood friend of Ryoko-chan. A rickshaw puller who pants while working; acts as the moral watchdog or ‘Lolicon Police.
• Ichimatsu – A high-ranking figure associated with the Imperial Guard, mentioned as having spineless guards around him, with no further details provided.
• Natsume – A female companion and younger sister of Kaede-san, cared for by Kaede-san during their journey through the dangerous valley, at risk of infection from the parasitic creatures. A woman who has completely shaved her head to look like a boy to please her master, Ichimatsu. She has a petite figure but previously had ample curves which she intends to surgically remove. She finds beauty in the ‘failed’ cyborg girls.
• Ryoko – Apprentice ferryman. Soft cheeks, silky dark teal hair like a crow’s wet wing. 13 years old. She has flat chest.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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