Chapter 127 Imperial Guards
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The night was for the wrap-up party.
Inside the Imperial Guards’ office, the atmosphere had already devolved into a full-blown banquet, carrying the rowdy energy of a year-end corporate blowout.
Everyone there could hold their liquor.
In this era, the concept of “peer-pressured boozing”¹ didn’t exist; if you couldn’t drink, you were treated like a total freak. It was terrifying, really-even kids of elementary school age would partake. The reason those old-school boy manga always featured “drunkard” characters with bright red noses was simply because those people were actually sitting right there in the classroom. It was a common sight. Of course, a few abstainers existed, but those types usually swapped the booze for an extreme sugar addiction or a heavy tobacco habit.
The crew wasted no time. Aiming to wash away the day’s grime and the lingering tension of the fight, they started pouring rounds as they pleased.
A rare trio had formed among the crowd: Crybaby-san, Maggot-san, and Trash-san. They were moving through the room, discreetly distributing appetizers to everyone else. Even at a party, they were the type who couldn’t sit still unless they were working. There’s always that one faction, isn’t there? I made a mental note to stay grateful.
”I’ve been prepping this for three days. How is the taste?” Crybaby-san asked.
Once the general meal service was over, Crybaby-san brought out a small plate of fish for the three of them. Trash-san picked one up.
”These black-backed anchovies pickled in sesame are incredible. They’re quite sour, but that’s the draw. This works… it’s addictive,” Trash-san said.
”I learned the recipe from my grandmother. The bones are cured soft, so you can eat them head-first. If you like them, I could always use my Psionic Power to duplicate the plate for you?” Crybaby-san suggested.
”Were you even listening to my lecture earlier?” Trash-san asked with an exasperated look.
Crybaby-san just offered a serene smile. She had clearly prepared most of the spread as a personal hobby.
”Is that a no? I also grated some ginger, so please use it. I chopped perilla leaves, too, and I’ve got raw soy sauce ready. I’ve been preparing all sorts of things for today,” Crybaby-san said.
”Well, I suppose a little bit wouldn’t hurt. Properties that don’t harbor ‘Mystery’ aren’t much of a burden on the world. …You seem to be having fun, though,” Trash-san remarked.
”I’m sorry. While I was making it, they just ‘mysteriously’ seemed to decrease… I was counting on your Psionic help to replenish them, otherwise there wouldn’t be enough to go around. I also made some sweet-and-salty inari, and if I can, I want to finish the sangayaki and dried mullet roe…” Crybaby-san said.
”You’ve certainly gotten bolder. I think your personality has changed since you took on that foreign representative work,” Trash-san noted.
In Trash-san’s pocket, the sardines wrapped in bamboo leaves began to multiply.
It was a decadently absurd use of Psionic Power. Her ability was meant to decrease entropy-to defy the fundamental laws of the universe-and here she was using it to conjure snacks for a drinking bout.
The three of them sat there, nibbling on the pickled fish. In this region, these sardines are called seguro² because of their dark backs. They take a massive amount of immature fry with the guts removed and flavor them with a mountain of sesame, slivered ginger, perilla, and chili peppers. It looked genuinely delicious.
”This is… Gekkeikan’s Jousen, I presume,” Maggot-san muttered calmly after taking a measured sip from her ochoko.
The three were deep into a blind tasting, pouring from bottles with the labels masked.
”There’s a disciplined umami beneath the initial bite. The structure, the smoothness on the palate… judging by the quality of the water and how it opens up, I’d wager this comes from a brewery in the Nada region,” Maggot-san said.
Impressive. She was actually trying to pinpoint the specific factory. I wouldn’t know the difference, but apparently, the water source changes everything. Seeing her so confident, the other two decided it was time for a reality check.
”Too bad. It’s mirin,” Trash-san said.
”I’m amazed you can be so wrong with such a straight face. I wouldn’t have known just by looking at you,” Crybaby-san added.
”For someone born into such a high-class family, Maggot, your palate is a disaster. I wonder what your parents were doing,” Trash-san teased.
”Mirin is supposed to be sweet… I almost got fooled. I thought you’d at least have a better guess than that,” Crybaby-san said.
”Buck up. It just proves you’re better suited for paperwork,” Trash-san said.
She had been completely, hilariously wrong. Maggot-san was being beaten to a pulp as an extension of the earlier meeting.
It seems that the person who decides the salaries is destined to be the office scapegoat. From my perspective, Maggot-san usually seemed untouchable, but her colleagues clearly felt differently. Her treatment was a bit unexpected.
Wounded, Maggot-san reached out to refill Trash-san’s cup. “Allow me.”
”Appreciate it. Thanks,” Trash-san replied.
Maggot-san was indebted to her for funding, so she couldn’t really fight back. Without her, they couldn’t even rent this office space. She couldn’t even manage a counterattack. It was a bit melancholy.
”It’s lonely for Maggot to be pouring for herself, too,” Trash-san noted.
”Thank you very much,” Maggot-san whispered.
In return, Trash-san poured a drink for her.
Both of them knew the truth: they were the only two in the Imperial Guards who had actually slept with me. Their stances on it were night and day. Maggot-san had no intention of ending our immoral arrangement, while Trash-san utterly despised her for it. That friction created a constant, suffocating tension between them.
Yet, because they were both intelligent women, it never devolved into an open brawl. Instead, it was like they were slowly strangling each other with silk-a quiet, polite war of attrition.
Not that I could judge who was “worse.” They were both guilty. Colleagues in the same office, both committing a terrifying betrayal against their master. It was truly regrettable. As the victim of their daily s*xual advances, I just wished they’d stop the posturing and just turn me into a human sandwich already. …Sometimes, the realest evil hides behind the face of an innocent victim.
As the drinks kept flowing, the hierarchy shifted. Soon, Maggot-san was leaning on Trash-san for comfort.
”It isn’t that I wish to make everyone suffer on purpose,” Maggot-san slurred, her formal mask slipping. “Do not think that being spoken of so poorly doesn’t affect me. One cannot choose the circumstances of their birth. Do not assume that being born into a noble family equals happiness. Just because I do not voice my grievances doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”
”Every Guard needs a bookkeeper, and nobody likes the person holding the purse strings. Deep down, they get it,” Trash-san said, patting her shoulder.
Maggot-san’s shoulders slumped. She was genuinely dejected, her posture and speech becoming uncharacteristically messy. As the alcohol took hold, the conversation turned into a heat-soaked vent session.
”Does Your Lordship view me as a villain as well?” Maggot-san asked.
”I wouldn’t go that far… but I definitely have thoughts about your attitude toward the Young Master,” Trash-san replied.
”Is… that so…”
Maggot-san closed her eyes and downed the rest of her sake in one aggressive gulp.
”Whoa, take it easy,” Trash-san said.
”In the end, I am just indulging myself. I tell myself it’s revenge against a society that abandoned a boy so young… but I’ve known for a long time that the Master doesn’t actually want that,” Maggot-san whispered.
”Maggot, you’re right. The Young Master doesn’t hold grudges. He probably hasn’t even considered the concept,” Trash-san said.
”But that makes it even more heart-wrenching! If everyone else is too afraid of society’s judgment to indulge his whims, who else is going to save that child?” Maggot-san asked.
”And that’s your justification for what you’ve been doing?” Trash-san asked.
”I want to grant him everything. Every selfish, sinful, non-sensical desire he has. If someone must be blamed for it… let it be me,” Maggot-san declared.
The base of Maggot-san’s cup hit the table with a heavy thud. Her face was flushed deep red-a rare, vulnerable state for her.
”Even if I am eventually exposed and fitted with a noose, the full weight of the sin lies with me,” Maggot-san said.
”Maybe so. But that’s enough for tonight. Everyone’s here,” Trash-san sighed.
They were talking about something heavy.
In short, Maggot-san was a “tragic” maid who knew she was doing something wrong but couldn’t stop “snacking” on her unfortunate master because she felt sorry for him. Rephrasing it like that made it sound a lot more sordid. She was caught in a whirlpool of self-loathing, unable to tell if she was being devoted or just following her own lust.
Honestly, she doesn’t just “snack”; she practically polishes me from head to toe every chance she gets… but whatever. It was a party. She was just finding her “righteous heart” in the bottle; once she sobered up, she’d be back to her usual self. I was sure she’d fall back into darkness soon enough.
”Let’s leave the drama aside tonight. We’ve shared the same sins; we might as well share the joy,” Trash-san said. “Alcohol might be the start of a thousand diseases, but if you actually get sick, I’ve got enough medicine in my bag to fix you right up.”
Trash-san rubbed Maggot-san’s shoulder, and Maggot-san’s body swayed weakly in response. Trash-san poured her another.
Crybaby-san was watching the whole display, using their drama as a side dish for her own drink. She had a look on her face that said, ‘Huh, this is getting interesting,’ as she swirled the sake in her mouth. For someone who seemed the most soft-spoken, she had some seriously thick skin. A true foreign affairs officer through and through.
”Then, cheers,” Trash-san said.
”Cheers,” Crybaby-san replied.
”Cheers… I don’t know what we’re talking about anymore… Trash-san, could I get a few more of those black-backs…?” Maggot-san asked.
”Yes, yes,” Trash-san said.
They settled into a quiet, mellow rhythm.
* * *
At a different table, the vibe was the complete opposite.
There were no snacks here. The table held nothing but small cups, warmed sake, and a single vase of flowers.
”Heave-ho,” Flatty-chan said, pulling out a chair next to Cult Slut-san, who was tilting her cup in solitary silence. “You’ve got all the luck in the world, and you’re sitting here without even a snack?”
I didn’t have a perfect handle on the internal social circles of the Imperial Guards, but I knew those two ended up in the same orbit more often than not.
”There are some,” Cult Slut-san said. “Memories, I mean.”
”Huh?” Flatty-chan grunted.
Eyes the color of autumn hazel shimmered slightly in the candlelight.
”I think of someone precious to me,” Cult Slut-san continued, “and as I savor the way those feelings come rushing back, I enjoy my drink.”
Steam from the cup clouded her smile.
”Watching the vapor rise from the o-choko makes me feel floaty. It’s wonderful… like I’ve actually stepped back into that time.”
”Time? Wait, what? What are you even talking about?”
”There were happy times, certainly. And sad ones, too,” Cult Slut-san said, gazing up at the ceiling. “But both are precious to me now. The time I spent with that person is my own private Regalia-a treasure I couldn’t part with for a second. Having that is enough. I don’t need anything else.”
Somehow even I ended up feeling embarrassed. It was a delicate, faint, and modest happiness she was savoring-a way of drinking that felt very much like her.
…Actually, I’m the jerk for eavesdropping, but is there really no other topic besides me? Listening to this is rough. Then again, if I charge in there as their boss and break it up, I’ll just kill the vibe.
Flatty-chan offered a blunt response to the girl lost in her memories. “You’re a total creep.”
”Wh-Why would you say such a cruel thing?” Cult Slut-san asked.
”Because you sound like an old lady. Even a hag wouldn’t use such boring snacks to wash down her booze. Seriously, you started reciting poetry out of nowhere and freaked me out. At least eat a pickle or something.”
Brutal.
Cult Slut-san looked genuinely crushed. It seemed she really thought her way of enjoying alcohol was normal.
”Anyway, Cult. You and I are besties, right?” Flatty-chan asked, squeezing in tight beside her. “How about I give you a foot rub?”
”Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
Flatty-chan’s generous backside pressed firmly against Cult Slut-san’s smaller frame.
”Are you begging for money again?” Cult Slut-san asked. “You really shouldn’t do that.”
”What, you’re gonna turn your back on a best friend in need?”
”We aren’t friends,” Cult Slut-san replied. “A person who becomes kindness only on payday is not called a friend.”
I wondered if she was always in debt. Lending and borrowing between coworkers is a recipe for disaster, but the members of the Exploration Squad have a very loose, fleeting relationship with money. Probably because they never know when they’re going to kick the bucket.
Cult Slut-san recoiled, trying to escape Flatty-chan’s proximity.
”Don’t be like that,” Flatty-chan said. “Fine, I’ll turn over a new leaf starting right now.”
”That’s a problem in itself. Why are you always so broke anyway? Since you’re a high-earner after all, you should have a bit more of a plan. Like living off the interest for once…”
”I always use it all up according to plan,” Flatty-chan insisted. “That is my plan.”
”That… that isn’t a plan…”
Flatty-chan’s logic was a bit hard to wrap one’s head around.
”I mean, you lent money to those other guys, didn’t you?” Flatty-chan continued. “Just the other day, those townspeople played you for a fool. Even that kid got over on you.”
”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
”Oh, come on. You lent cash to that girl with the pigtails. The one in the red monpe.”
Cult Slut-san’s gaze turned sharp and suspicious. “How do you know about that?”
Since Flatty-chan was on good terms with the local street urchins, she clearly knew exactly who had been on the receiving end. I wondered if the kid was famous in the area. The Imperial Guard is a prime target for scammers; all sorts of people ‘coincidentally’ approach them with sob stories to swindle their pay. Even if the child didn’t mean any harm, there was a good chance an adult was pulling the strings.
”You’re being played,” Flatty-chan said flatly.
”Don’t speak ill of that child! She’s working her heart out for her poor family. I just gave her a little help.”
”Are you actually serious right now?”
It was the most textbook sympathy trap imaginable. Cult Slut-san seemed to be funding the local poor, which was a very ‘her’ brand of kindness, but in this world, it just made her a mark.
”That brat was working for me,” Flatty-chan said nonchalantly.
”!”
”I’m gonna pay you back in one lump sum later, so what’s the big deal?”
”I… I can’t believe you,” Cult Slut-san stammered. “To use an innocent, young child who knows nothing! She told me her ‘older sister’ who looked after her was all alone in the world, and they were so broke they couldn’t even buy food! Was that all a lie?”
”That ‘sister’s’ name is Flatty-chan,” the girl replied.
”You are the worst!” Cult Slut-san cried.
It seemed that because Cult Slut-san had finally cut her off, Flatty-chan had resorted to using her network of orphans to keep the loans coming. It was a diabolically dirty trick.
”Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate if you stopped impulse-buying mystical objects!” Cult Slut-san shouted. “Even though you don’t use them, you’re always buying weird junk!”
”I can’t help it, it was a bargain. Here, try this compress. It’ll kill a stiff shoulder in one hit. Though, fair warning, sometimes a flower grows out of your head.”
Flatty-chan doubled down with the classic, nonsensical logic of a hoarder. If you don’t buy it, it’s not a bargain-it’s free. But her purchases just ended up gathering dust on a shelf. Apparently, just having them on display made her feel good. Go figure.
”I got played. I got sold a dud…” Flatty-chan muttered, tilting her cup back in frustration.
While Flatty-chan sulked, Cult Slut-san tried to regain her composure.
”Fine. To make sure you don’t end up in this position again, I am going to instruction you on what faith is. We call it ‘Hidden Virtue, Manifest Reward,’ meaning that right actions always lead to good rewards.”
”Thanks,” Flatty-chan sighed. “I’m about as interested in that as I am in an old lady’s backside.”
”Please, don’t say that…”
Despite the look of disgust on her face, Flatty-chan didn’t get up. Whether it was the guilt of the debt or just laziness, she reached out and poured more hot sake into the other girl’s cup and settled in to listen to the scold.
There was a reason Flatty-chan had looked bored earlier. It’s a bit tragic, but once you become a Psionic Power user, your body’s ability to detoxify spikes. For some, it becomes nearly impossible to get a buzz. She seemed to be the same type as me.
The two of them sat there, petite figures huddled over their cups. It was actually a pretty cute sight. Despite their eccentricities, sitting side-by-side they looked like a pair of dolls. I’d like to try changing them into various clothes and making them into a princess.
”Have another round,” Flatty-chan urged.
”Mmm… hng… haaa…”
”Oh, that’s a good way of drinking.”
Transparent liquid disappeared smoothly past Cult Slut-san’s beautiful lips. Flatty-chan was honestly impressed. Every time she refilled the cup, it was gone in an instant.
”Look, it’ll be empty after the next one. I didn’t know you were such a heavyweight.”
”Various things happened, and I intend not to drink for ten months and ten days starting tomorrow. Alcohol is something to enjoy, not a place to escape to. Overdrinking is the great enemy of life.”
”Then why do you drink when I pour?”
”The Bible says ‘Love thine enemy.’ You should take those words to heart as well.”
Again, the sake vanished into Cult Slut-san’s mouth. She was completely defenseless, even with Judas sitting right next to her.
”You’ve got an answer for everything. Even though you’re a Buddhist, you read the Bible, don’t you.”
”That is a misunderstanding. Christ’s true identity was Nyorai-sama. He attained enlightenment under a stable, was betrayed by Bonten, and entered Nirvana after being crucified on a Sal tree. The thing they used to check the side of his body at that time was called the Spear of Longinuus-which is actually the prototype for the khakkhara today.”
”You’re talking absolute nonsense. Ah… wait. This one is quite drunk, though it’s hard to tell. Does it not show on her face…”
Cult Slut-san’s eyes were spinning in circles. Flatty-chan gave her some water, then tucked her into a cushion to sleep it off.
* * *
The remaining three women were lined up at the desk as if it were a bar counter. Jazzy music drifted from a portable gramophone they’d brought in. It was an old-school model; if you cranked the spring, it would spin records for a good thirty minutes.
I could hear a conversation starting up that made the previous girls seem like saints. Surprisingly, the one leading the charge into the gutter was Vocal Slut-san. She was a jovial drinker and didn’t seem particularly drunk, but the stuff coming out of her mouth was incredibly lewd.
”Who does?”
”Young Master. He often steals glances at my body during bodyguarding.”
”Is that reeeeally true?”
The ones humoring her were Sow-san and C*m Bucket-san. With these three together, it felt like an adult female’s party. In the dim light of the room, they looked like a trio of gorgeous older sisters grabbing a drink at a moody bar in Roppongi after a long shift.
They were sipping on rare brandy and Scotch whiskey from the market. Scattered on the table were remnants of fish, wild tempura Crybaby-san had grabbed from a stall, and some artisanal cheese they’d ordered.
The movement of fingers carrying the amber liquid to the lips was glossy, and the long legs stretching out from their chairs were beautiful. If I’d met these women in my previous life, I never would have had the guts to talk to them. I probably would have been a few zeros short on my annual income to even get in the door.
Naturally, the conversation was all about me.
”After we do gymnastics, he secretly peeks at me while I’m changing,” Vocal Slut-san said, leaning her cheek on her hand as if reminiscing. “And my used undergarments? The position of it changes all the time. I wonder… does Young Master want to try wearing women’s clothes, too?”
”No, no, as expected it must be your imagination.”
”Aren’t you being self-conscious? That’s just like the imagination of a dreamy single woman. Vocal Slut is a little dummy, isn’t she.”
”I thought so at first, too.”
There was no particular disgust or malice in Vocal Slut-san. It was just a list of detached facts.
”But I’m not the only one being watched. In terms of the ratio during walks, eight or nine out of ten, he’s doing observation of the faces, chests, and butts of passing townspeople. Faces are five, chest and butt are two each.”
”Hmm. Maybe he’s just looking in that general direction?”
Neither C*m Bucket-san nor Sow-san were getting a hairpin feeling from the story.
”No, there’s no mistake,” Vocal Slut-san said, her voice carrying the unearned gravitas of a martial arts master. “In my case, I fulfill my bodyguard duties by predicting his next move based entirely on his line of sight.”
”Oh? Is that so?” Sow-san asked, tilting her head. “Then what’s he doing the rest of the time?”
”The rest of the time, he’s just spacing out, staring at wing-maggots³ or the ceiling,” Vocal Slut-san replied. “He spends a lot of time playing games by tracing the patterns on the wallpaper, too.”
I couldn’t believe it. Was she seriously applying high-level tactical analysis to my daily bouts of boredom?
”That’s the Young Master for you,” Sow-san said, staring into the distance as she tilted her cup. “I’m sure there’s a profound meaning behind his observations.”
The curve of her lips reflected on the other side of the whiskey glass was dangerously s*xy. Beyond that heavy, slumbering gaze, she was surely envisioning the ‘noble’ figure I pretended to be.
”They say a deep river runs between men and women,” Sow-san sighed. “Perhaps those of our station simply cannot fathom the thoughts of a male…”
”No, I get it,” Vocal Slut-san interrupted, instantly shattering the mood. “His eye movements are basically the same as my five-year-old niece’s. He even tries to pick up dead maggots off the side of the road sometimes.”
Sow-san’s brow furrowed in utter, wordless confusion.
For a while now, Vocal Slut-san—the woman who spends every waking hour as my bodyguard—had been ruthlessly stripping my private life bare. The worst part was that she didn’t have a malicious bone in her body. She was just answering questions, treating my pathetic habits as casual conversation. But regardless of her intent, the fact remained: she was broadcasting to everyone that I was a total moron. I desperately prayed she’d stop.
”Then… why the ‘observation’ of women?” Sow-san asked. “What’s your take on that?”
”Oh, I think it’s on-the-job training for his manly duties⁴,” Vocal Slut-san said. “When he’s looking at women in skimpy clothes, it’s hard to tell since he’s on the smaller side, but he’s always at attention and ready to go!”
She had a knack for noticing things others missed. But malicious or not, I really wished she’d stop detailing the results of her ‘observations’ so frankly.
”I find that hard to believe,” Sow-san countered. “Even if the Young Master lacks prejudice toward females, it’s a stretch to say he’s actively seeking out the female form.”
”Is it, though~?” C*m Bucket-san asked, her voice a low purr. “I mean, it wouldn’t be weird if he had plenty of ‘experience’ back before he was born, right?”
”When I’m on duty, he’s always trying to walk behind us to get a look at our asses,” Vocal Slut-san added. “And he always ‘trips’ on purpose just so he can cop a feel.”
Stop it, I screamed internally.
”Oh, I think he might have done that to me too…” C*m Bucket-san said, a small smile playing on her lips. “So it was on purpose after all.”
”I can tell instantly because his breathing hitches and his heart starts racing,” Vocal Slut-san noted.
”I see,” Sow-san murmured. “I was actually concerned he was leaning toward some… strange hobbies.”
”On the contrary, I’m relieved,” Sow-san continued, her voice softening. “It’s heartening to know he’s practicing for his future responsibilities. He’s always been prone to flighty, fantastical talk. If it’s just the eccentricities of a boy, I can live with that. But if it were a mental affliction, a bad doctor would only make it worse. I’d never allow the Young Master to be sent to some godforsaken asylum with the likes of Taffre and Tawa.”
”They call them ‘sanatoriums’ these days, Sow-san~,” C*m Bucket-san corrected.
I wanted to die. I wanted to crawl under my covers and never come out. Even Sow-san, my only supposed ally, had noticed my ‘tactical groping’ and was seriously considering whether I needed a therapist. If everyone already knew, they could have at least told me from the start.
”His breathing gets really heavy through his nose when we’re close,” Vocal Slut-san giggled. “He probably just wants to play. He’s like a cute little puppy, isn’t he?”
”Oh my. To think he feels that way about us… what a sweetheart,” C*m Bucket-san said. “And practicing so hard for his future duties… it’s just too precious.”
Vocal Slut-san and C*m Bucket-san shared a smile, lightly clinking their glasses together.
I’m not the dog here—you are!
I tried to use my Psionic Power⁵ to shut her up, but she wasn’t a valid target. I couldn’t touch her. I just wanted it to end. It didn’t matter if my behavior was ‘socially acceptable’ in this world; I didn’t need to be forced to look at myself in the mirror like this. And the worst part? I was the one who had ‘educated’ her into having this total lack of ethics.
”He also loves that game where he presses our fresh-off-the-body white uniforms against his face,” Vocal Slut-san prattled on. “And he really loves burying his face in a cushion right after C*m Bucket-san’s been sitting on it. That’s our Young Master for you!”
”Oh, hush,” C*m Bucket-san teased. “Does my body really smell that much?”
Please… just stop…
Since when did bodyguards specialize in stabbing their masters in the back? Even an unrepentant lecher has feelings. Pointing it out so bluntly actually hurts, believe it or not.
”Speaking of smells…” C*m Bucket-san’s eyes widened as if she’d just had a revelation. “I just remembered. Once, after the Young Master used the latrine, I caught a whiff of a… ‘mysterious’ fragrance. It definitely wasn’t ‘number one’ or ‘number two’.”
I froze. This was it. This was the absolute lowest point. We were talking about the era before I had a partner—the dark ages of a lonely male. I didn’t want to hear another word.
”I’ve smelled that too!” Vocal Slut-san exclaimed.
”Wait, both of you?” Sow-san looked worried. “Is he ill?”
”No, it didn’t feel like a sickness,” C*m Bucket-san mused.
”Perhaps the stool-sampling team or the court physician would know more,” Sow-san suggested.
The three of them sat there, heads tilted in thought. Fortunately, they didn’t reach the obvious conclusion. I, for one, was perfectly happy leaving them in the dark.
”Oh, that reminds me,” Vocal Slut-san said, suddenly changing the subject. “I used to have a stray dog, and he actually tried to mate with my leg once.”
”Is that even possible~?” C*m Bucket-san asked.
”It happens. It’s pretty much the same for any animal with fur. Monkeys fall for bears, that sort of thing. The boundaries are surprisingly low.”
”Huh. I guess males of other species have it rough when it comes to lust,” C*m Bucket-san said. “Since there’s usually an equal number of males and females, nature is such a mystery.”
”Anyway, he kept rubbing his… thing… against my leg,” Vocal Slut-san continued.
”And?” C*m Bucket-san pressed.
”He finished. He was working so hard, it was actually kind of cute.”
Sow-san blinked, looking between the two of them. “What does this have to do with anything?”
”The smell coming from the Young Master was exactly like that dog’s stud juice!” Vocal Slut-san chirped.
”Okay, that’s officially crossing a line,” Sow-san snapped. “Stop it.”
Vocal Slut-san…
I finally understood why she had been given that name. Even with my legendary patience, I was at my breaking point. She had no idea how much effort it took to settle my desires with fingers that barely worked, yet here she was—the very person I’d granted a title to—betraying me like this. I never thought I’d be bitten so hard by my own dog.
”The Young Master is… unconventional,” Sow-san said, her tone returning to a professional clip. “We can’t know what might cause him psychological trauma. Summarize these observations in a report and hand it over to Maggot-san.”
”You got it! I’ll do my best to keep the Young Master healthy and happy~!” Vocal Slut-san cheered.
”I’m counting on you,” Sow-san said. “I’ll reach out to my contacts in the other Imperial Guard⁶ units. The ones who have served males for a long time might have some insights.”
Don’t do your best. My trauma is happening right now.
”Your observational skills are trust-worthy,” Sow-san praised. “From now on, don’t hesitate to speak up if you notice anything else, no matter how small.”
”Of course! Does that mean I get a raise?”
”No.”
”I’m kidding! I can tell jokes too, you know!”
Sow-san playfully flicked Vocal Slut-san’s forehead. They were both clearly a little tipsy now.
So, here was the conclusion: A formal report was going to be written about that time I jerked off in a public restroom. My private shame was being dragged into the light of day. I decided, right then and there, that I would never forgive Vocal Slut-san as long as I lived.
And then, finally, a savior arrived. Flatty-chan always knew when I needed her.
Across the room, Maggot-san came stumbling over, her arm draped around a bright-red, completely wasted Flatty-chan.
”Whatcha… hic… talkin’ ’bout work for?! You guys are… idiots!” Maggot-san slurred, her eyes failing to focus.
”Hey, you’ve got the good stuff!” Maggot-san barked, lunging for Sow-san’s glass.
”Hey! Get off me!” Sow-san shouted.
Maggot-san forced her way into Sow-san’s space, snatching her whiskey and tossing it back. Then, Flatty-chan tackled Sow-san from the front while the treacherous C*m Bucket-san grabbed her from behind. It was a chaotic skirmish of the ‘well-endowed’ versus the ‘less-so’—a miniature version of hell where the flat-chested lashed out at the world. For some reason, Vocal Slut-san joined the fray, trying to shove an entire 1.8-liter bottle into Sow-san’s mouth.
It was a pile of girls, but it wasn’t the least bit s*xy.
”H-hey… stop it…” Sow-san stammered.
A bewildered Sow-san eventually gave up, chugging whatever alcohol was in front of her until she let out a long, boozy sigh.
”You need to smooth out those wrinkles between your eyes once in a while, Sow-san!” Maggot-san laughed. “You think too much!”
”She’s right~. Just drink for today,” C*m Bucket-san added.
”Yeah! And give me… hic… a raise!” Flatty-chan yelled.
”It hurts, let go! If you keep grabbing me like that, I’m gonna lose control of my Psionic Power… Fine! I’ll drink, just stop!”
Sow-san started out angry, but it didn’t take long for the alcohol to claim her too. She eventually went limp, leaning into the group. Usually, she looked so terrifying that you didn’t notice, but she was actually quite petite. Just for today, the cold steel of the blade had returned to its sheath. For once, she looked genuinely happy, finally liberated from her mental strain.
Everyone was drinking and laughing, and the room smelled like a brewery. But despite the chaos, they really did get along.
Whatever. I’m going to bed. And I’m going to forget today ever happened as fast as humanly possible. I’m going to pretend I didn’t see the person vomiting in the corner, or the person having an hour-long conversation with a good-luck charm, or the person who started doing old-school naked party tricks⁷.
Yeah. Let’s go with that.
—
Summary:
The Imperial Guards’ wrap-up banquet in their office begins as a rowdy celebration but quickly dissolves into a series of raw and scandalous revelations. As the protagonist eavesdrops, he witnesses Crybaby-san, Maggot-san, and Trash-san engage in a drinking game that spirals into a deep emotional confrontation, highlighted by Maggot-san’s drunken confession of guilt and twisted devotion to her Master.
Nearby, the gossip continues as Cult Slut-san displays a sentimental side through her strange religious syncretism, while Flatty-chan is exposed for using orphans to swindle money from her fellow guards. The atmosphere shifts further when a more mature trio begins dissecting the protagonist’s alleged voyeuristic habits and fixation on female clothing. This tactical analysis by his female bodyguards eventually devolves into a frank, embarrassing exposé of his private sexual habits and bizarre daily behaviors. By the time the entire group reaches a peak of intoxication, the guards have formed a happy, drunken bond over the protagonist’s most shameful secrets, leaving him utterly traumatized by the encounter.
—
Trivia:
- Crybaby-san’s Psionic Power literally breaks the laws of physics just to provide party snacks.
- Maggot-san and Trash-san are the only ones currently confirmed to have slept with the Master within the Guards.
- Trash-san is the one who financially enables Maggot-san’s lifestyle/work.
- The protagonist views himself as a victim of s*xual abuse, while the women see it as ‘granting his whims.’
- Drinking culture in this world is extreme, with no concept of ‘alcohol harassment’ and children participating.
- Vocal Slut-san is actually predicting the Young Master’s movements, not just insulting him.
- Flatty-chan is actually the ‘older sister’ the town child claimed to be helping.
- Cult Slut-san’s religious beliefs are a bizarre mix of Buddhism and mangled Christian history.
- The protagonist is eavesdropping on these conversations, leading to his internal embarrassment.
- Psionic power users have high alcohol resistance, making it hard for them to get drunk.
- Vocal Slut-san claims the protagonist has been moving her used underwear
- Sow-san was genuinely considering a mental health intervention for the Young Master.
- The Young Master’s Psionic Power has specific targeting restrictions.
- The ‘Showa-era party tricks’ refer to a specific style of crude Japanese banquet humor.
- The Young Master himself is responsible for the guards’ lack of s*xual ethics due to his past ‘education’ of them
—
Character Insight:
Maggot-san displays a massive ‘Messiah Complex’ mixed with s*xual obsession, justifying her actions as a way to save the Master from a cold society. Trash-san shows a more pragmatically ‘sinful’ side, accepting their shared guilt as an inevitable joy.
Sow-san shows a rare moment of vulnerability and release at the end, showing that her ‘scary’ facade is a result of immense mental strain. The Young Master experiences a total ‘social death’ as his carefully guarded secrets are treated as casual jokes, highlighting his powerlessness despite his status.
—
Behind the Scenes:
The author uses the ‘Mirin’ prank to highlight Maggot-san’s loss of her ‘noble’ senses when around her colleagues and alcohol.
The author uses the names of the guards as literal descriptors of their personalities or the roles the protagonist forced upon them. The ‘deep river’ line is a classic Japanese trope referring to the fundamental misunderstanding between the s*xes.
—
TL Notes:
Notes:
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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