Chapter 21 Roland Gorilla
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
You might laugh and call it a dull life, but let me say this: the chaos in our lessons is beyond belief.
Some students nap gracefully beneath blankets, breathing softly as if at home. Others prepare real tea, nibbling sweets while chatting idly. A few spend their time on nails and makeup, mirrors flashing under the classroom lights.
Two students in the back are playing a mystical object board game—something like a communication duel, by the looks of it.
The whole room is a portrait of indifference. Those arguing with the teacher are, ironically, the only ones still paying attention. It feels like one of those low-ranked schools you see mocked on late-night TV.
I stare at the chalkboard and rub the two fingers on my left hand that no longer move. They are covered by white gloves.
No feeling. No warmth. They’re mine, yet not. That thought alone chills me.
”Ugh… really, there’s nothing there,” I mutter.
I’m wearing gloves—pure white, fingerless ones made of fine silk. Only the ring and pinky fingers are covered. They were given to me by the Imperial Guard.
The delicate stitching and shimmer of the fabric almost feel like an apology for the lost sensation. A small comfort, perhaps, for what I’ve given up. Even in something this small, you can feel the devotion—the way women in our world tend to their men.
It’s tradition: men wear gloves to cover only the fingers they’ve offered.
The gloves make everything visible at a glance—how many times a man has been blessed by the Imperial Guard. To women, it’s like an identification tag.
Not that it means anything between men. Still, it changes first impressions. To some, it’s just another kind of product label, marking how cooperative—or valuable—a man is.
As I stare absently out the window, Tokumasa, the boy sitting beside me, lets out a cheerful shout.
”Whoa! You finally did the ritual! Nice—now you can go into the dungeon!”
”Morning,” I say. “Yeah, I guess so.”
”You don’t look happy, though. You’ve got that ‘storm’s coming’ face again.”
Tokumasa beams at me, brimming with energy as always. A mysticism fanatic, he studies my gloves like a rare artifact. His grin is pure joy—because in his eyes, it means one more friend has joined the fold.
”Thanks,” I say quietly. “Guess I’m finally a proper man now.”
But I’m not exactly thrilled.
He frowns, puzzled, and leans closer. “Why so gloomy? Now you can take mysticism lessons and start building your reputation as a man!”
”I know… but it’s unsettling. Feels like part of my body isn’t mine anymore. My fingers don’t move. No pain, no feeling.”
”You’ll get used to it,” he says brightly. “Soon you’ll want to do another ritual!”
”You can’t be serious.”
I grimace, and he bursts out laughing.
Yeah, no. I don’t think I’ll ever want that.
Losing touch—literally—is worse than being low-ranked. Every time a finger stops moving, a little joy leaves with it. Feeling things, crafting things with your own hands—that’s what makes life human. I don’t want to lose that.
”Maybe you just want more dungeon explorers for your squad,” I tease.
He grins. “Hey, it’s not just about that. I hated seeing people mock you all the time. This is a good thing.”
”…Thanks. Sorry for worrying you. Still—doesn’t it bother you?”
”Not at all!” he shouts, eyes shining.
He clearly has a point to make.
”Who needs five fingers anyway? Why did God give us so many? Maggots live fine with one!”
”That’s… a bit extreme.”
”Whatever. Solving the mysteries of the dungeon is way more exciting!”
He’s fired up now—utterly convinced.
Determined, this one.
Then he exhales, laughs, and shows me both hands.
”Look at this.”
The fingers sticking out of his gloves number only five in total—two on the left, three on the right.
I never noticed before; he eats so neatly it’s easy to miss. Half his sense of touch is gone.
”…Whoa,” I breathe. “You lost all those through the Oath of Fealty Ritual?”
”Yup! Honestly, I wanted to give them all, but the Imperial Guard girls begged me to stop. Said I wouldn’t be able to hold a brush anymore. I didn’t really care, but they were crying, so—what can you do?”
”That’s… how do you even live like that?”
”I let the Imperial Guard handle everything for me!” he declares proudly.
I stare at him, speechless. “You can’t just say that with a smile…”
He laughs. “Everyone reacts like that the first time!”
This isn’t funny. Not at all.
For the record, Tokumasa is not a standard example.
Most men, over their entire lives, offer at most four fingers.
A man usually commands four or five members in an exploration squad. The leader and second-in-command receive blessings; the others serve as support.
By the time a boy finishes elementary school, he’s given up two fingers. The rest are kept in reserve—for replacements, in case of accidents or deaths during expeditions.
There are debates about the ideal number. Some say four is too few; others argue that giving all of them is the purest show of devotion.
Still, no woman ever forces a man. That would be disgraceful in our matriarchal society. The ritual itself carries a deep resistance for men, and forcing it could lead to resentment—or worse, public shame.
Which is why Tokumasa, who’s whittled himself down to the bare minimum needed to pour tea or hold a pen, is something of a lunatic.
But at that moment, I realized something far worse.
”Hey, Tokumasa,” I say slowly. “You’re not really athletic, are you? Wait—don’t tell me…”
Despite his healthy looks, he’s terrible at sports. I was dead last in endurance running, but he wasn’t far ahead.
He grins like a boy caught red-handed. “Good guess! My hands weren’t enough, so I offered all my toes too!”
”…That’s why you’re so slow!?”
”The nerves in the feet don’t stabilize as well, so ideally, I should’ve offered the hands. But, well, compromise, right?”
”Ugh… wow.”
Tokumasa let out a weary sigh, but there wasn’t a trace of sadness in his face—only that same youthful light, a scholar’s joy in mystery itself.
”I’m speechless, Tokumasa. You’re unbelievable. Makes my worries look tiny in comparison.”
”Glad I could help! Usually, when I tell this story, other guys just freak out and run away. So really, I’m grateful you stuck around!”
”Let’s be clear—I didn’t agree with you!”
I’d already noticed how his eyes lit up whenever we had lunch together and he started talking about mystical artifacts. But now I understood: this boy was a kindhearted lunatic. A likeable one, sure, but still—wow.
Seeing my expression, Tokumasa laughed, clearly amused. His grin wasn’t mad-scientist crazy, more like an overenthusiastic hobbyist who just couldn’t help himself. Hard to hate a guy like that.
”…Against the vile forces of the Allied Nations, our divine Empire of Japan, together with our Axis allies Germany and Italy, fought bravely and repelled the enemy. The Great East Asian War, righteous in purpose, expanded the frontiers of mystical resource production, forcing the Allies into a truce of equal standing. To maintain our advantage over Britain, America, and the Soviet Union—and to preserve the independence of Southeast Asia—we must secure even more resources. Therefore, young men of Japan, you must take pride in your sacred duty: to strengthen our nation and pursue the divine path of mystical exploration!”
No one was listening to the teacher’s long speech.
”What’s for lunch today? Fish?”
”Ugh, so boring. I just wanna go shopping in the capital.”
”I told them I’m already engaged, but they made me go to another arranged meeting. They introduced three women—all high-ranking officials’ aunts. I almost lost it.”
”Sounds perfect for you. Totally deserved.”
While the teacher preached from the platform, everyone went about their own business. The classroom was a zone of total freedom.
No one scolded us. Once graduation and marriage were on the horizon, discipline vanished completely.
Not that I was any better—chatting with Tokumasa nonstop.
But unlike them, I didn’t have a graduation date or fiancée lined up yet.
I didn’t want to end up like that one college student who fails just because he stopped caring when everyone else did. Maybe I should start paying attention again.
Sorry, Tokumasa. As much as I’d love to hear how your fiancée and even the Imperial Guard girls cry trying to stop your madness, I should probably focus on history class.
”So,” she asked, “how’s your body changing?”
The next afternoon, I stood in the courtyard of the Kujukuri dorms, facing Trash and C*mslut.
I was here to check the results of their post-ritual progress.
”Please, take a look.”
”Whoa—”
Trash reached for a lump of coal beside her and crushed it effortlessly in one hand.
”Next,” she said, picking up a thick log. She pinched it delicately between her thumb and forefinger—and snapped it in half like a breadstick.
…Superwoman?
That kind of strength could make daily life a real problem. How was she even supposed to live normally?
”Uh, you sure you’re okay? You can still hold chopsticks and bowls, right?”
”No need to worry. I can control my strength perfectly.”
Still, part of me couldn’t help thinking—if they ever touched me there, I’d want to be very sure about that control. A delicate grip was important. Too much power, and… well, things could get painfully detached.
Oblivious to my inappropriate thoughts, Trash raised a brow.
”But it doesn’t end there. The more experience I gain in the dungeon, the stronger I become. Honestly, I’m starting to scare myself.”
She crushed the split log into splinters, dusting her hands off as brown powder drifted down to the ground.
With that kind of strength, she could probably break my bones without trying. And if her whole body was enhanced… did that mean everything about her was stronger, even—no, never mind.
Trying to sound casual, I asked, “That’s incredible. So it’s full-body enhancement? How much strength do you actually have now?”
”Here are the results from a simple test. Please review them.”
She handed me a sheet of A4 paper.
I glanced over it—and froze.
Test Subject: Trash
Height: 169 cm
Weight: 52 kg
Grip Strength: 340 kg
100m Sprint: 5.1 seconds
Weightlifting Max: 820 kg
Test Subject: C*mslut
Height: 175 cm
Weight: 65 kg
Grip Strength: 480 kg
100m Sprint: 6.2 seconds
Weightlifting Max: 1,230 kg
”This was a basic check,” Trash explained. “For security reasons, more detailed ability data is omitted from the paper record.”
”Holy—! You’ve basically stopped being human!”
Every number shattered world records—double them, even.
I’d always wondered how the physical stats of adventurers in stories would actually look if quantified, but this was beyond imagining. Attack power, defense… none of that makes sense until you see numbers like these.
Four hundred kilos of grip strength—on par with a Roland gorilla. Maybe I should be praising the gorilla instead.
C*mslut’s one-ton lift was the most shocking. On Earth, even those bear-wrestling Russians cap out at half that.
Where did that much power fit in such slender bodies? By any normal physics, it made no sense.
Curiously, though, despite their monstrous stats, their running speeds weren’t superhuman. About as fast as an Akita dog in full sprint.
”You two just casually surpassed the monster category…” I muttered.
Once again, I marveled at how strange this world was.
Then I remembered my own grip strength—barely ten kilos—and sank into mild depression. I guess I was a kind of mystery myself.
…Wait.
”What’s wrong with you two?”
Both women were kneeling on the ground, heads down, their earlier pride vanished.
Trash’s usual cool aura had wilted, and C*mslut looked as soggy as a crumpled tissue.
”Y-Young Master,” C*mslut said, eyes brimming with tears, “are you… afraid of me?”
Her usual rough tone was gone, replaced by something small, trembling—like a frightened puppy.
”Of course not,” I said quickly. “Why would you think that?”
”Young Master called me… a monster. Do you… hate me now?”
She looked like she was about to draw circles in the dirt with her finger from sheer gloom.
Meanwhile, Trash was also in visible shock.
”He… he said we’re not human anymore. That we’ve stopped being human. Calm yourself, Trash—this is a good thing. For the Young Master to fear and despise women… that is the sign of his righteous growth!”
…Oh, for heaven’s sake.
Both of them were completely crushed because I’d carelessly called them monsters. They honestly thought I was frightened of them, maybe even disgusted.
Well, I couldn’t blame them. In this world, women take men’s words far too seriously. Even jokes or casual remarks from a man are treated with full sincerity—and full emotional injury.
They’d offered me a grand display of strength, the result of their rituals, as a tribute for my sacrifice. To find out I saw it as something negative must have been a painful blow.
But honestly, the only thing I was worried about was the future safety of my—well, let’s just say sensitive parts. So I scrambled to fix it.
I rushed over, forcing a smile.
”W-wait! I didn’t mean it like that! I wasn’t scared at all. When I said you’d stopped being human, I meant it in a good way—as in, you’re so strong it’s unreal!”
”Really?”
”Really! I was just surprised, that’s all. I don’t think anything weird about you two, I promise!”
Then I hugged C*mslut, who was still crouched on the ground.
She looked up at me with wide, feline eyes—surprisingly soft, almost cute. Beneath my hands, her body was packed tight with muscle, the firm weight of a wild beast.
”See? Nothing to be afraid of,” I said gently.
”…Ah. Young Master… hehe…”
I patted her cheeks, brushed her hair, even tapped her shoulders and chest lightly. Bit by bit, her expression brightened.
Good. She was smiling again.
”Heheh… I want you to touch me more. Lots more, in lots of places. I was always jealous of how much time Kalt gets with you,” she murmured shyly.
”That’s good. And hey, you can talk the way you like around me, you know? Whatever’s easier.”
”R-really? But… that’d be disrespectful…”
”I like the natural you, C*mslut.”
”You… you like me? Really?”
”Yeah. Really.”
”Then… okay.”
And so I found myself petting the hourglass-shaped powerhouse in front of me, my hands moving over her toned arms and back.
”Hehe… heheheh…”
”There, there. See? Even tapping your waist is fine.”
”Heh—Young Master! This is fun! It’s fun!”
I sighed in relief. She’d fully recovered her mood. Her eyes were still wet, but now from happiness.
It was almost adorable, how quickly her emotions changed. Despite her tough, brash image, she was oddly vulnerable with me—like a delinquent girl who doesn’t quite know how to act around the opposite sex.
The “tough girl who’s bad at romance” trope—honestly, we’d gone full classic literature at this point. Still, it suited her.
She genuinely believed her scary looks made me dislike her, so my reassurance clearly meant a lot. I couldn’t help but treat her like a proud owner soothing a frightened animal, gently talking and stroking.
”There, there. I’m not scared of you, okay?”
”Heheh… y-you’re touching me too much, though…”
…And now I was starting to get a little too aware of how good she smelled. Great.
While I tried to discreetly adjust my posture, Trash had already recovered her composure through sheer willpower—and was now giving us a look that said, this has gone too far.
”C*mslut, that’s enough.”
”What, jealous? The Young Master said he isn’t scared of me! And he said he likes me—he meant it!”
I released my overly affectionate beast-girl and turned to Trash.
There was a hint of sulkiness in her eyes that made her look unexpectedly cute. Probably a misunderstanding, though—she was more likely upset about propriety and my overly casual behavior toward my guards.
”Trash, it’s fine. Really,” I said.
”Young Master, please don’t indulge her so easily. The Imperial Guard must maintain proper decorum.”
”Only when we’re in public, I promise.”
From behind, C*mslut—cheerful again—called out, “C’mon, lighten up! You’re close with him too, aren’t you? Ever since that night you swapped night watch duty!”
”That’s not the same thing,” Trash snapped. “Casual indulgence benefits no one—not her, and certainly not you, Young Master.”
”Ohhh, so you just want him all to yourself, huh?”
”T-that’s not what I—don’t twist my words! I just—listen, that’s not the point! Some things are improper, and that’s final!”
”Yeah, yeah… you’re acting pretty suspicious, you know.”
C*mslut glided closer to Trash, the tension between them rising fast. The playful teasing was turning into a real argument.
I couldn’t stand watching them fight. I stepped behind Trash and tugged lightly on her sleeve.
”Young Master, what are you—”
I rose up on my toes and kissed her.
Her lips were soft and cool—a quick, electric jolt of warmth ran through me.
”Mmm—!”
The surprise in her wide eyes was priceless.
Honestly, she was adorable when she was jealous.
Sure, I could justify it with logic—I wanted us all to get along, to keep the team’s morale up—but mostly, I just didn’t want tension between us.
Trash’s eyes fluttered open as our lips parted. I met her gaze, trying to look as pleading as possible.
”Please? Just this once.”
”…Very well,” she murmured at last. “Even if this scene looks like mist and songbirds, I’ll take it as a fleeting melody and let it pass. I wouldn’t want to seem narrow-minded.”
Her hand brushed her lips, her cheeks flushed.
Having someone indulge my selfishness—it felt strangely comforting. Like we truly understood each other, without words.
There was something about Trash that made me want her to kiss me back, rather than the other way around. Talking with her always put me into this strange, soft-hearted mood—maybe because of her poetic way of speaking.
”But,” she added firmly, “only in private. You understand why, I trust?”
”Of course!”
”…Eh? What are you two doing?”
Oh, no.
We froze like rusted dolls turning on stiff joints.
C*mslut stood there, pale as a ghost, staring at us.
”E-e… ehh?”
Her voice cracked, her face twisted in disbelief, as if the sky had fallen on her.
The trembling grip on her sword said everything about what she was feeling.
She’d drawn her sword. Oh, no—this was bad.
”You… you laid hands on the Young Master, didn’t you?”
Trash and I locked eyes.
Ah. Right. We’d really done it now.
Her face said I have no excuse, and mine probably matched. I’d gotten carried away with that impulsive kiss, lost in the moment, completely forgetting C*mslut was right there beside us. How do you forget something like that? I had no idea—but I had.
Before either of us could stammer out an explanation, C*mslut crouched like a predator about to pounce.
”H-hey, wait! This—it’s not what it looks like! I was just, uh, practicing to be more… mature!”
”Young Master, please stay calm! That phrasing will only make it worse! C*mslut, listen to me—just calm down first—”
”I don’t need excuses!”
In a blur too fast for me to see, C*mslut lunged.
For me, it was just a flash—a thunderclap of motion.
The ground shuddered. A shockwave rippled through my legs, like being hit by a car. Trash’s body shot backward, smashing straight into the dorm building.
The wall buckled in with a horrible crunch. My face went cold.
But within seconds, Trash burst back through the hole in the wall, coughing.
”Kegh… wait, idiot! I didn’t deceive the Young Master. Just listen to me first—”
”Die and apologize!”
”Damn it—just listen—!”
C*mslut curled her body again and shot forward like a bullet, swinging her sword down with the force to cleave the whole building.
The wooden wall split cleanly in two like tofu, collapsing around us. Trash barely managed to block and counter again and again.
”Th-this is bad—really bad!”
My dorm was disintegrating.
Each clash rang like clashing metal beams, the entire place shaking as debris flew—like a demolition site mid-blast.
Then came an especially loud crash.
A sword had broken. I heard a feral cry echo through the dust, followed by a dull, heavy impact.
”Oh no—this isn’t the time to watch! I have to stop them!”
I dove through what was left of the outer wall.
The inside was chaos—splintered wood, shattered furniture, dust everywhere. The main pillar was bent, and through a gaping hole in the ceiling, I could see the sky.
Not even a rampaging elephant could’ve done this much damage.
”Haa… haa… you—stubborn—boar-headed idiot!” Trash gasped.
”Shut up! You hurt the Young Master—you betrayed him!”
They faced each other, both breathing hard.
Trash had taken the worse of it—cuts, bruises, sweat pouring down her face. She was on one knee, barely holding herself up.
”W-wait! Stop!”
At this point, there was no one else to intervene. It had to be me.
I ran toward C*mslut. Desperate times.
”Hey—look at me!”
”Outta the way, Young Master! I have to kill—huh?!”
I kissed her.
Her eyes went wide, her face flaring red.
”—!?”
I didn’t really know how else to stop her. Logic wouldn’t work—no amount of explaining could justify attacking a superior.
So fine. If kissing Trash made me guilty, then I’d make us all guilty.
”There,” I gasped. “Now we’re even!”
Safe. Maybe? Hopefully?
I waited, heart pounding, praying she’d calm down.
”Eh… e-ehhh…?”
The hilt of her broken sword slipped from her fingers and hit the ground with a dull thud.
She stood frozen, touching her lips with trembling fingers, eyes wide in pure confusion.
Okay. Crisis… mostly averted.
Trash took a long, steadying breath, then said with quiet resignation, “He means no harm. This is simply how he is.”
”How he is?”
”When a boy is curious and doesn’t fear women, this is the result. He even calls it ‘practice’ for his future fiancée.”
”That still doesn’t make it okay! So you’re saying you didn’t trick him—you both just went along with it?”
”Oh, I was just as surprised my first time,” Trash admitted coolly. “He certainly seems to enjoy it.”
”Ehhh…”
C*mslut looked between us, eyes darting, trying to figure out the truth.
I nodded—vigorously.
At last, she seemed to accept it, though her face remained flushed with disbelief.
I glanced around at the wreckage and forced a bright smile.
”A-anyway! That was… uh, unexpected, but I definitely understand your strength now. With you two around, I’ll be safe no matter what monsters show up. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow’s mysticism field lesson!”
”…”
”…”
The silence said it all.
If the Imperial Guard started killing each other, it would’ve been tragic. We were lucky this time. Next time, I might not be able to stop them. I’d have to be much more careful.
Both of them were staring at me with unreadable expressions.
Then, suddenly—
”…So this is what it’s like,” Trash murmured.
”Yeah,” C*mslut agreed softly.
They exchanged a strange nod—an unspoken bond forming between them. Somehow, the fight had actually brought them closer. Maybe it was one of those after the storm, the ground hardens things.
”Seriously… this guy’s trouble,” C*mslut muttered. “We’d better keep an eye on him.”
”You’re part of the team now,” Trash replied. “Honestly, I couldn’t handle it alone. I’m grateful.”
”Unbelievable,” C*mslut groaned.
Still, there was a flicker of mutual understanding in their eyes.
Somehow, I managed to stop their duel before anyone died.
”What a battle,” I muttered, half in awe.
So this was the true power of the Imperial Guard after the Oath of Fealty Ritual. No wonder they could fight monsters in uncharted lands.
They’d said they’d stopped being human—but really, they were heroes. Adventurers in the truest sense.
While I was still lost in that thought, another figure appeared from the Imperial Guard’s housing complex—Cult Slut, her eyes blazing.
”What on earth happened here?!”
She stood frozen, staring up at the half-collapsed Kujukuri dorm. Then her gaze snapped to us—sharp enough to kill.
”Well, you see—” Trash began.
”It was my fault,” I offered.
”It’s not the Young Master’s—”
”I can see who did it!” she roared. “All three of you, sit down and explain yourselves—NOW!”
…Maybe I should just kiss her too and get it over with.
No—definitely too soon for that.
Though, I had to admit, her furious face was gorgeous.
In the end, we agreed on a story: during a training demonstration, the two of them got carried away and accidentally destroyed the dorm.
I felt a little guilty about the cover-up.
Thankfully, my room had survived intact.
Once the debris was cleared, I turned in early—ready to face tomorrow’s mysticism lesson.
Notes:
• Tokumasa – Friendly male student from Nokogiriyama, Tateyama Town. Sun-darkened skin, approachable.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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