The original Lucy didn't think Yara was planning to do anything too extreme to her—or rather, she expected something that would bring her more pleasure than pain.
However, fearing that she had started to seem annoying in the eyes of her new girlfriends, she contacted her clones telepathically to suggest putting their misunderstandings aside and making peace. After all, none of them wanted to ruin the image of the "perfect girlfriend" they had worked so hard to cultivate, right?
"..." The other two Lucys thought they had just heard a joke. Wasn't it hypocritical of her to suddenly remember their image now that she was in trouble? Where had that concern been when she'd embarrassed them in front of Yara and Rina?
Still, even though they thought it was a bit too late to save their "perfect girlfriend" image, they also didn't want to upset Rina and Yara—two lovers they could never have dreamed of having. Well, it's said that the later someone gains something in life, the more they tend to treasure it.
So, they stayed quiet and let the original Lucy explain the situation to Rina and Yara—briefly, that she had a skill allowing her to create exact copies of herself. Thus, if one overlooked the fact that the clones would lose their bodies in twelve hours, all three could be considered equally real.
As expected, it took the two of them a few moments to process that information. Not only was the existence of such an unusual skill hard to grasp, but it wasn't easy for anyone to accept that their girlfriend could multiply herself.
What did Yara and Rina think about this matter? At first glance, it seemed like they had only to gain. Were they afraid they couldn't share Lucy? Well, now they could each have two.
Of course, that was assuming they weren't too busy with each other—because, from what Rina and Yara had seen of the three Lucys interacting, it was clear enough that the three Lucys weren't any more forgiving with one another, even though they were technically the same person.
As for the fact that Lucy seemed quite comfortable having intimate contact with her clones, they weren't sure how to comment on that; it could be said they had now realized how Lucy had become so proficient at kissing despite never having been in another relationship before.
Did this behavior seem strange to them? Quite a bit, actually. At least up until that point, they'd never even imagined something like that. But that was to be expected, since they weren't like Lucy, who, even in the modern world she'd come from, could be considered quite a "cultured" person. The yuri novels she'd read contained plenty of taboo subjects, among which selfcest might even be considered boring—twin sisters, mother-daughter… what can I say? The Japanese have quite the imagination, and fortunately for them, no one censors it.
Rina and Yara, on the other hand, hadn't had the opportunity to explore that kind of knowledge about sexual fantasies; it could be said they were rather innocent in that regard.
Still, it wasn't as if it was something they couldn't accept. After all, it wasn't all that different from self-pleasure, was it? Besides, they felt they couldn't judge her without having been in the same circumstances. For someone attracted to people of the same sex, was it really so strange to feel drawn to a body that was extremely attractive—even if it was an exact copy of one's own?
Not to mention that Lucy belonged to the catkin race, known for their strong sexual appetite; both Rina and Yara agreed it was better that Lucy had found a way to take care of her own needs rather than leaving behind a trail of girls she'd slept with during their travels.
They'd also be lying if they said that the scenes involving the three Lucys didn't seem even more exciting now that they knew it hadn't been a one-woman show, but that all three had been real. Honestly, they couldn't quite explain why—perhaps the more you love someone, the more you want your eyes filled with them, or maybe there was something poetic about Lucy punishing herself.
Well, perhaps they should have asked Lucy, who could've told them the reason: for rational beings, the more taboo an act is, the stronger the arousal it brings. Otherwise, "stepmom" wouldn't be the most searched word on adult sites across all regions.
Anyway, everything seemed fine and dandy—but Rina and Yara couldn't help wondering: with more than one Lucy around, was it even possible to have peace? From what they'd seen so far, her love of drama seemed to grow exponentially with her multiplication.
One thing was now certain, though: they could forget about any chances of ever being able to control Lucy. They could barely handle one—so how could they possibly deal with three or four?
"Lucy…" Yara started to say, but stopped when she saw three identical pairs of eyes staring straight at her. She wasn't sure whether she should speak to the three Lucys as one person or as several.
The three Lucys quickly realized what the problem was.
'Well, this really is a situation where proper pronouns need to be established,' thought the original Lucy to herself, realizing she still had some things to clarify for Yara and Rina regarding how she and her clones interacted with each other and the world around them.
"I think you can treat us as three individual persons," she began to explain. "Although we have the ability to merge our minds, it's quite disorienting to do that all the time…"
Suddenly, she realized she had skipped an important step after using the Blood Clones skill—one that could've made things a lot simpler.
"Oh, right, I forgot something. The last time I used this skill, I came up with different names for each of us to make it easier to tell us apart…," the original Lucy continued, but stopped before suggesting they reuse the same naming system she had used before—adding different Greek letters to her name.
First of all, she couldn't quite remember which letter came after Beta.
'Was it Delta? Or maybe Omega? No, wait—Omega was the last one, right...?'
Unfortunately, since she no longer had access to the knowledge sources of the modern world, the answer to that question would probably remain a mystery to her forever.
And secondly, Rina and Yara wouldn't be able to appreciate the charm of such names anyway—they had never heard of things like "Delta Force."
Still, unlike the original Lucy, who remained oddly attached to that old idea, the other two thought it wouldn't hurt to try something new. After all, it was a great chance to see what life felt like with a cooler name.
It wasn't as if Lucy disliked her name—but hearing it didn't stir any particular emotion either. It was a bit like eating the same dish every day: even if it's delicious, eventually you get tired of it.
Besides, a ninja should be able to act under different identities, so this could count as training.
"I think I've decided. Until the Blood Clones skill wears off, how about you call me Lucille?" said the second Lucy—the one who had targeted Yara during the prank. She thought that this variation of her name suited a world that seemed to be at an 18th–19th century level of development.
Since all three were the same person, it was only natural that what pleased one of them would also please the others.
"Umm, I guess that works…" said the original Lucy, trying to sound indifferent. Still, she couldn't help reproaching herself in her mind for not having come up with the idea first. After all, they were the same person—so why did the other Lucy seem to have better inspiration?
'No, I don't think I did anything wrong. It's probably something to do with quantum physics…' she thought. Since she and the others shared the same mind, maybe their different physical positioning caused her clone to be more receptive to better ideas.
Meanwhile, the third Lucy was having a hard time. Now that the second—no, Lucille—had set the bar high, she couldn't afford to come up with something plain.
But inspiration is fickle; you can't force it—it finds you. No matter how hard the third Lucy strained her brain, no good ideas came to her. In fact, she didn't even have many bad ones. Eventually, realizing there was nothing useful in her own mind, she turned her attention to her duplicates, hoping to find some hint in their appearance. Lucy couldn't help but notice how much she resembled the suspects in police films who start scanning the walls for inspiration during interrogations.
'Umm… maybe Catrina? No, not subtle enough. Madam Jiang Meow? Damn it, those cat ears and that tail keep distracting me…'
Well, at least that line of thought got the gears turning a little—but anyone with even a basic sense of linguistics could tell it wasn't leading anywhere good.
Then, as if by divine sign, a few rays of sunlight broke through the clouds and filtered through the trees, reflecting off the original Lucy's hand—still damp with her own saliva. Against the dark forest backdrop, the glow was so bright that for a moment the third Lucy thought her hand was made of snow.
"Well, I think I've decided too…" the third Lucy finally said, clearly proud of the idea that had just struck her.
"Let's hear it…" said the second Lucy. She felt confident that her chosen name would remain unbeatable—it was like holding a four-of-a-kind in poker. To surpass her, the third Lucy would need a royal flush: a name that wasn't just fitting, but also extremely cool.
The third Lucy paused for a few moments to make sure she had everyone's attention, trying to project as solemn an air as possible. Anyone unaware of the situation might have thought they were witnessing a historic event—something like the founding of a round table.
"Ahem, let us begin. From this moment on, I, Lucy, Third of My Name, shall be known as Luceult of the White Hands. So let it be done…" she declared.
Too bad she didn't have a crown and a scepter—otherwise, it would've been a perfect scene.