Chapter 46 Imperial Guard’s Private Life
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
It’s been a few days since Cult Slut-san’s name appeared in my psionic list.
Apparently, breaking the membrane wasn’t the condition for her name to appear. The real trigger was releasing inside her. I don’t know exactly when it happens, but it didn’t count when she only swallowed. Somehow, it feels like what matters is that my bodily fluids reach deep enough—maybe even the womb. Psionic powers always respond to instinct, so that must be right.
When I finally saw her name there, I felt a deep relief. I’d been worried about her injuries and wanted to check on her from time to time.
Every time I secretly watched her in the private room, smiling softly as she stroked her stomach, I thought the same thing: one day, I want to reach even deeper. And until then, I’ll find a way to slip past those cursed old laws that keep us apart.
But after that night, she ended up bedridden for a whole day. Once she woke up, we cleaned up the traces in the tearoom together. Just when I thought we were safe, her fever spiked and she collapsed from the pain and exhaustion. From what I’ve heard since, the burn on her finger won’t leave any lasting damage. Maybe a small scar, though.
That drug really was a high-grade mystical item—one dose cost as much as five years of a townsman’s salary. Trash-san managed to restock it for me, thank god, but it was still one hell of a lesson.
Even with all the guilt I feel, it’s strange—despite how rough it got, I can’t help seeing her as a motherly figure now. It’s weird. I came inside her, yet I can’t bring myself to do anything cruel to her.
Maybe it’s that damp little smile of hers. The act itself was incredible, but deep down, something wouldn’t settle. Guilt? Maybe. A faint unease that won’t fade. Her wounded smile is burned into my mind.
She said she’d cook red rice soon to celebrate. Maybe that’ll help ease my heart.
I didn’t expect forcing myself on someone I cared about to hit me this hard. Still, if she doesn’t hate me for it, I’ll try not to hate myself either.
”…I mean, is it really okay for me to keep doing stuff like this? I’ve been gathering info just in case, but…”
While I was fumbling my way through each day, the towns kept climbing the stages of war. The first battle was less than two weeks away.
I spread out the gathered documents across my private room.
”The town looks the same as always,” I muttered.
People weren’t panicking, and there were no news sheets talking about war. Maybe that’s why no one felt it was real yet.
”It’s crazy they even have a set date for the start of a war,” I said, half in awe, half in disbelief.
From what I’ve learned, this world has strange laws: to avoid harming males, there’s a long negotiation period before the first battle. If anyone drags men into it, even if they win, every neighboring region turns on them afterward.
The one rule that all worlds share in wartime law is simple—
don’t harm men.
Other than that, almost anything goes. Breaking that rule means declaring war on the entire world. That’s the final taboo.
We still had time before the opening battle, but my status didn’t give me much intel. I could probably learn more by joining male social circles, but the big tea parties were all up north. Staying close to everyone meant giving that up. No helping it.
Even within the Imperial Guards, we didn’t have the kind of info the northern leaders did. We were just drafted and sent south—not part of the command structure. Soldiers never learn the full strategy until the last minute anyway.
So I still had no clear picture of the war.
Scouts and spies were already killing each other, though. Hearing that made me tense. I’d been gathering info in secret from the other Guards, but there’s only so much I could do to protect myself.
Besides, men get scolded for sticking their noses into politics or war.
”People push us away on purpose,” I sighed. “Some guys probably don’t even know who we’re fighting.”
Even my own unit—the Imperial Guards—didn’t like me getting involved in war matters. To them, men were fragile treasures, ornaments, or prizes to protect and display.
”God, I hate this. I just want it over already. But doing nothing, staying scared, and regretting it later—that’s worse.”
I can’t stand the thought of losing people close to me. Yet I don’t have the guts to yell about peace in public like some rebel. I benefit from the same politics I criticize, so I can’t reject just the ugly parts.
Only now do I realize how much courage Yosano Akiko had. Makes sense, though—she wrote about s*x and love more honestly than anyone.
”You’re still a virgin, don’t you dare die yet,” she said—well, that’s my translation, but it’s not far off.
Anyway, I’d finished today’s duties: breakfast, study, exercise, and routine reports.
Now I was lying on my bed that afternoon, bored.
This town-issued phone only has mail and call functions. Not much fun.
”If no one’s gonna teach me, I’ll go see for myself. Stalker mode on.”
Since I had free time, I decided to turn invisible and quietly watch how the girls spent their day, like a ghost hovering behind them.
I scrolled through the mental list of clingy females in my psionic field and picked Maggot-san. She’d been ignoring me lately for some reason, so now was a good time to check in.
The moment I triggered my Psionic Power, my body lifted slightly—then my consciousness slipped free, weightless, and everything around me blurred out.
When I opened my eyes again, she was right there—the target of my haunting.
Maggot-san was walking along one of the wide white streets that cut through the neighborhood. After finishing her afternoon report to me, she was on her way to another duty, moving between rooms on foot as always.
People in rough linen clothes stepped aside to give her space. The white uniform of an Imperial Guard marked her as someone of rank—respected, even feared a little. Still, without a male by her side, no one stopped or bowed. They simply avoided getting in her way.
A low, mechanical hum rolled through the air—Wiiiin────iiiin.
It sounded like the ship’s internal bell marking the hour, echoing like a distant siren. In this alien vessel that served as our town, that tone was as familiar to the children as a sunset chime on Earth.
The sound faded into the corridors, and little girls shrieked with joy as they ran home.
Vendors were starting to prepare their food stalls for the evening meal. From shabby carts—basically iron pots on wheels—came the clatter of dishes and the hiss of boiling water. Thin steam curled upward and vanished into the vents along the corridor ceiling, carrying a faint smell of salt and ash.
I trailed behind Maggot-san, matching her pace step by step. My feet didn’t make a sound, but it felt almost real, as if I truly walked among them. The others passing by couldn’t see me.
”Hey, Maggot-san,” I said cheerfully. “It’s almost dinner time. No sunset here, but this hour feels nice, doesn’t it?”
”…”
”I wonder what everyone’s eating tonight?”
She ignored me completely.
A small ache rose in my chest, but I didn’t give up. I quickened my pace and moved beside her. Her stride was longer than mine, so I had to walk a little faster just to keep up.
Around us, the women of the town chattered as they walked. They laughed about pickles turning out well this year, about how the winter fish were getting fatty, or about how someone’s roommate was lazy at work. Their talk was scattered, messy, but alive. Sometimes they tossed in dirty jokes, bursting into laughter that bounced off the white walls. For them, this was the time when work ended and the world exhaled.
I glanced around as we walked, distracted by the smell of food and the glow of hanging lamps.
”Ooh, what’s that—grilled clams on a stick? Looks delicious. You know, someday I really want to walk around town with everyone from the Imperial Guard. Eat street food, visit places together. I’ve never even shopped in the male-only district yet. No idea when that’ll happen, but when it does, you’re my guide, okay?”
”…”
She stayed silent.
I could tell she could see me, though—I’d tuned my senses to her wavelength. Every time I spoke, she twitched slightly, her eyes flicking toward me for a second before turning away.
So why the hell was she still ignoring me?
It started to feel pathetic—like I was talking to myself. My chest tightened with that lonely pressure before tears come.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved in front of her, blocking her path, and stared into her eyes.
She stopped. For the first time, she looked at me.
”Your Lordship is supposed to be in your private room,” she said flatly.
”I know. I just got your report earlier, remember?”
”Then why are you here?”
”No reason. I just wanted to see you. Is that… a problem?”
She flinched, her eyes widening like my words had grabbed her heart. After a moment, she clenched her jaw, forcing her face back under control.
”Damn it,” she muttered. “So this is my own desire…? I will not lose.”
”Lose? Wait—what?” I blinked.
As usual, I had no idea what went on in Maggot-san’s mind. But she’d calm down eventually. She always did.
She kept walking after that, heading toward a section where ordinary women weren’t allowed. At the gate, she exchanged greetings with the female guard and stepped through a door beyond.
”I’m back,” she said.
”Welcome hoooome,” came a lazy, drawn-out voice from inside.
The room she entered was huge—about the size of a volleyball court. Papers and files were piled everywhere. White tables were covered with stacks of documents and pens, like some strange mix of an office and a research lab.
In the center sat a big sofa, the kind you’d expect in a shady detective agency.
Lying across it was Flatty-san, the self-proclaimed older sister with a crippling case of stage fright—and a chest as flat as her nickname suggested.
Next to her sat C*m Bucket-san, her leg trapped under Flatty-san’s dangling one, munching on rice crackers. Crumbs clung to her massive chest like snow on hillsides. Somehow that detail felt… perfect.
Other Imperial Guards sat at their desks, writing reports or sipping tea, relaxed and unbothered. A few were missing—probably still out on assignments.
The whole place felt like a literature club room at a college—messy, warm, and weirdly alive.
This was our Imperial Guard office.
Across from Maggot-san’s desk sat Cult Slut-san. She was writing again, sitting upright in her woven chair. I could still remember her striking kimono from before, but now she was back in her usual uniform, working with quiet focus even though she’d barely recovered.
Suddenly, her brush stopped. She lifted her head and turned toward Maggot-san.
”Good work,” she said softly. “How did it go?”
Her voice carried a calm concern that made Maggot-san pause mid-motion.
They didn’t need to spell it out—the meaning was clear between them.
After a brief silence, Maggot-san resumed tidying her desk and answered.
”He may have left the northern town,” Maggot-san reported calmly, “but the young master remains in good health. His meals cause no trouble, and his usual bright, easygoing spirit is unchanged.”
”I’m glad to hear that. He hasn’t seemed restless or uneasy?”
”Not that I’ve noticed.”
”Then I’m relieved.”
She must’ve wanted to know how I was doing. Hearing it from Maggot-san herself—someone who’d actually seen me—seemed to ease Cult Slut-san’s mind. She rubbed her bandaged fingers awkwardly and let out a quiet sigh.
Still, hearing them talk about me behind my back like this made me squirm. I knew it was my fault for eavesdropping, but it felt weirdly intimate.
After a brief pause, Maggot-san continued, her voice more thoughtful.
”Lately, he’s been diligent with his exercise. In fact, I’d say the move to this town suits him. He seems to enjoy the local atmosphere quite a bit. However…”
”However?”
”I feel he’s been more pensive than before. More often caught in thought.”
”Is that so?”
Hmm. Maybe she was right. These past few days I had been thinking a lot—about Cult Slut-san, about what comes next. Maybe my face had started showing it.
Cult Slut-san furrowed her fine brows in quiet thought. Then, her voice softened with worry.
”Do you think it’s the dungeon incident? That it’s still weighing on him?”
Her tone carried a faint sadness, lips pressed tight.
”It’s only natural,” Maggot-san replied. “Witnessing death so closely must have been harsh for a male. And with how unstable the world is these days—he’s sharp, so the burden of awareness must weigh even heavier. I can’t help but worry.”
”Poor thing,” Cult Slut-san sighed. “He probably hasn’t had a moment to rest.”
Her breath trembled faintly, and even Maggot-san’s composure slipped as she nodded, her own expression softening.
”I wish we could give him a real break,” Cult Slut-san murmured.
”I’m afraid extended leave is still difficult,” Maggot-san said quietly.
”Yes, I know. I’ve been trying not to overload him with manners lessons, but there’s only so much I can cut. Ahh…”
The two of them sighed in sync, their shoulders dipping at once. The sight made them look almost like sisters.
They really did seem close—like coworkers who’d grown into quiet friends.
And damn, they were chatty. I’d never seen them talk this casually before.
They ignored me completely, sipping tea and chatting over their desks as if I wasn’t even there.
”Sometimes he’s so energetic it’s hard to tell if he’s forcing it or if it’s just who he is,” Cult Slut-san said. “Part of me wishes he’d stay small forever.”
”He’s at that age, after all,” Maggot-san replied. “And though it’s exhausting, being caught up in his whirlwind has become… oddly precious. I joke about it, but sometimes I wish I could keep him in a box, safe and still.”
’Hey—what the hell? That’s not fair!’ I wanted to shout.
Both of them were having a free-for-all gossip session because I wasn’t there to stop them.
Not that they knew I was literally right next to them, invisible. I hadn’t told Cult Slut-san about my Psionic Power, so unlike with Maggot-san, our senses weren’t connected. When there were multiple targets in range, I could switch focus or even hop between hosts if I wanted. A lazy stalker, sure—but at least I was efficient.
Eventually, the “education discussion” they started turned into a full-on venting session about my bad habits.
I sat in an empty chair, letting their complaints wash over me like background noise. It felt like two mothers consoling each other about their overactive kid, and being that kid was torture.
God, please, let me go home already.
At last, their conversation shifted. Maggot-san gestured toward Cult Slut-san’s bandaged hands.
”How’s your injury?”
”Oh, this?”
”Yes.”
Cult Slut-san gently rubbed one hand over the other and winced. Both palms were wrapped up to the second knuckle, each finger carefully bandaged so she could still move them. Some of the burned blisters had burst, staining the cloth with faint, dried fluid.
”They still don’t move well,” she said softly, “but… it feels strange. Every time it hurts, it doesn’t feel bad. Not really.”
I noticed the part of her skin peeking out from beneath the bandages—already healed, but scarred and slightly raised. It wouldn’t fade. The sight stung something deep inside me.
”Somehow,” she whispered, “I’m glad the scar will stay.”
”Glad?” Maggot-san echoed.
”Yes. It’s strange, I know. Even I think it’s odd.”
Her voice turned small, trembling just a little, like she was trying to convince herself it was okay.
”Years from now, when I’m old, I’ll look at this burn and remember everything. I’ll think, ‘Oh, that happened once.’ This scar will be a piece of my memory—a proof that I lived through something real. And if, at that time, he’s still by my side… I won’t need anything else.”
”…Cult Slut,” Maggot-san murmured, her tone gentler now.
”I’ll pray every day for that person,” Cult Slut-san continued. “Grow old, grow weak, and when it’s time to go, I’ll thank the Buddha for giving me such a good life. That’s my dream.”
”I understand,” Maggot-san said quietly. “Truly.”
”Really? You do?”
Cult Slut-san smiled, a faint, joyful curve on her lips. Maggot-san nodded, her usually cold expression softening.
”Yes. To serve someone for life—that’s what it truly means.”
Then, with a teasing glint, Maggot-san reached back to touch the spot on her own head where she’d once been struck during duty.
”There’s a small scar on me too,” she said.
”Oh? Is that so?”
”Yes.”
”Heh…”
The two of them smiled at each other quietly, their laughter small but warm, filling the office with something almost tender.
Their voices softened, carrying a quiet tenderness—like two small dogs glancing at each other while their owner isn’t looking, sharing a brief spark of joy before parting again.
Watching them, I couldn’t help thinking how sentimental they’d gotten.
Damn it. I couldn’t take it anymore. What the hell was this soggy conversation? Were they seriously teenagers? This sounded like a pair of old ladies sipping tea on the porch. You haven’t even had kids yet—don’t start finding enlightenment in nostalgia!
Just as I was about to give up, a loud, lively voice saved me from drowning in the mood.
Flatty-chan turned her head toward them from the sofa where she’d been sprawled like an older sister hogging the family TV at home. The kind who radiates lazy dominance.
She crashed right into their calm little world without hesitation.
”Ahh, you two are so lucky. You get to see him every day. Every time I catch a glimpse, my heart still does that stupid little jump!”
”I only see him every few days,” Maggot-san said coolly. “And it’s not without its troubles.”
”Ha! Sure, sure. Brag all you want. I wish I’d been assigned to clerical work too—but I guess I didn’t have the brains for it.”
”It’s not bragging. There’s no end to the worries.”
”Oh shut up, Cult. You’re impossible,” Flatty snorted.
She sat up with a stretch, her thin body unfolding from the couch, and dragged a chair over beside Cult Slut-san’s desk with a loud scrape.
Without invitation, she started fiddling with small trinkets on the table, poking at papers and munching on snacks. Cult Slut-san tried to ignore her, picking up her brush again, but Flatty just kept talking—a perfect picture of bored interference.
”By the way,” she said, smirking, “our young master has the cutest hands, doesn’t he? So small. And that slender neck—I’d love to see him up close again.”
”That’s inappropriate. Please stop,” Cult Slut-san said sharply.
”Oh come on, no harm done. It’s not like Sow’s here watching. Besides…”
Her eyes flicked down to Cult Slut-san’s bandaged hands, still raw and healing. That smug grin spread across her face.
”Rumor says you burned yourself during a tea ceremony with him—too nervous to handle the pot, huh?”
”…That’s true. Why?”
”Because you’re such an innocent thing, that’s why. Just the two of you, huh? Must’ve been cozy.”
”—!”
”What, no comment? Come on, tell me what really happened!” Flatty nudged her shoulder with a laugh, leaning closer like a cat toying with its prey.
”Teach your big sister your little secrets~”
”It was just a mistake. Nothing happened.”
Huh. She acted so differently here. I’d seen her playful side at the beach before, but this was something else. Around girls her own age, she was loud, teasing, almost annoying—well, not quite annoying, but definitely more open. Still, it was weirdly refreshing to see this version of her.
I guess it made sense. Around me, they all behaved so proper—Imperial Guards on duty, careful and formal. But in their own space, they were just… people. With normal voices, laughter, and small cruelties.
The energy in the room was unmistakably feminine and noisy, though Cult Slut-san looked visibly bothered. I had a feeling this kind of teasing was a regular occurrence between them.
”Come on,” Flatty giggled, “just tell me what kind of mistake it was. Did your hands touch? Did you freak out?”
”…”
Cult Slut-san said nothing, staring at her with cold, heavy eyes.
”You’re a cute one,” she said evenly. “Please, stay that way forever.”
”Wha—hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”
”Nothing. …Honestly, children are a blessing.”
”Wait—what?! You sound totally different from usual! Why do you look so calm all of a sudden?”
Oh, damn. Cult Slut-san actually fired back. And it landed perfectly.
The whole exchange felt like watching a cat swipe the nose of a dog that barked too close.
Meanwhile, the rest of the office buzzed late into the night—half gossip, half endless paperwork. The clerical team stayed bent over their desks, processing ledgers and town hall forms. Members of the Exploration Squad drifted in and out of the partitioned rest room, too tired to talk.
In wartime, even the Imperial Guard had to handle bureaucratic work—keeping records, managing supplies, helping run the town. Most of the townsfolk couldn’t read or write, so this was our way of contributing to the war effort.
I moved between my bed and their office several times, peeking at documents and copying notes back in my private room whenever my psionic energy drained too low.
At one point, I caught Flatty and Cult Slut-san chatting again.
”By the way,” Flatty said, “Trash still hasn’t come back from the dungeon?”
”She ran into those spiny monsters in the corridor,” Cult Slut-san replied.
”The ones from beyond the sphere?”
”Yeah. Nobody knows where they come from. Because of that, the exploration was stopped. Any Imperial Guards or townspeople not in ritual duty have returned. Trash is probably still fighting down there.”
So Trash-san was working on the second layer of the Kujukuri Town dungeon. I’d been meaning to check on her anyway. Maybe I’d head there once I recovered some strength.
The good part about being an astral projection was that I couldn’t be hurt. I couldn’t touch the world, but the world couldn’t touch me either—like a second-player ghost waiting for revival. Not a hero, more like one of those faintly glowing side characters who hang around offering sarcastic advice.
…Okay, maybe I wasn’t that useful after all.
Still, after skimming enough of their paperwork, I’d started piecing together fragments of how this world’s war really worked. I’d analyze it properly back in my room later, and only visit again when I had to.
Because honestly? I hated this place.
Every second here made me itch.
Half their conversations were about me—and most of it was stuff I wished I’d never heard.
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.
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