While Suzuki was utterly paralyzed by Shizuku's scandalous proposition in his bedroom, Kaori was standing in the dimly lit hallway outside Hajime Nagumo's room, exactly as the original plot dictated.
She wore a quiet, incredibly feminine silk nightgown. The thin material clung softly to her curves in the cool midnight air, highlighting her delicate, fragile beauty. She had come to talk about her crushing anxiety regarding tomorrow's labyrinth raid.
Unlike Suzuki—who possessed a suffocating, intoxicating aura of absolute reliability—Nagumo's situation was bleak. He was a Synergist, a purely non-combatant crafting job. In Kaori's mind, Nagumo should have stayed behind in the safety of the castle. The dungeon was a meat grinder, and Kaori honestly couldn't fathom how a boy as soft and weak as Nagumo was going to survive.
Yet—
"Thank you, Shirasaki-san," Nagumo said, offering a strained, desperate smile. "I know I'm weak, but I still want to try. I want to be useful to everyone. I can at least repair your weapons."
"Nagumo-kun..." Kaori murmured, her heart sinking with a sense of helplessness.
"But... because I know I'm weak," Nagumo continued, his voice wavering slightly, "if something goes wrong tomorrow... please protect me, Shirasaki-san."
He said it, hoping to ease her worries, thinking that giving her a purpose would relieve her anxiety. He didn't want to be entirely hopeless. He wanted to belong to the group.
"....."
Kaori just stared at him, entirely at a loss for words.
Could she protect him?
She was a Priest! While the system classified her as a combatant, her entire biological and magical purpose was to stand safely in the backline and heal torn flesh. How was a fragile healer supposed to physically shield a boy from a hulking demon?
As she looked at Nagumo's gentle, earnest face, a deeply strange and uncomfortable feeling twisted in her chest. A week ago, she might have found his naive courage endearing. She might have smiled and supported his determination. But now?
...How incredibly stupid.
Kaori violently flinched at her own dark thought. What was wrong with her?! She frantically tried to mask her sudden disdain, forcing a polite, highly strained smile. "Yes... don't worry, Nagumo-kun. I will protect you."
"Thank you, Shirasaki-san," Nagumo smiled softly, completely blind to the turmoil in her eyes.
Kaori hastily excused herself and walked away. She didn't notice the dark silhouette of a jealous classmate lurking in the shadows, clenching his fists in pure hatred at the sight of her leaving Nagumo's room.
But what neither the shadow nor Nagumo knew was that Kaori didn't go back to her own room. She wandered the drafty stone corridors of the inn aimlessly, hugging her arms tightly around her chest.
Protect him? The thought echoed in her mind, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
If Nagumo had been the only non-combatant she knew, it might have been fine. But Kaori had spent the entire week standing entirely too close to Suzuki Tanaka. They shared the exact same weakness—both were non-combatants—yet they couldn't be more different.
Under Suzuki's harsh, intimate midnight lessons, Kaori had been stripped of her naivety. Suzuki had taught her the brutal anatomy of murder. Because of that dark pragmatism, she suddenly recognized Nagumo's "kindness" for what it truly was: suicidal, childish foolishness.
She knew it was cruel of her to think so, but she couldn't help it. She was heavily projecting Suzuki onto Nagumo, and Nagumo was failing the comparison miserably.
Nagumo was weak, but he desperately wanted to force himself onto the battlefield so he wouldn't be a "burden."
And Suzuki? If Kouki hadn't explicitly begged him to manage the loot, Suzuki would have happily stayed in the capital, sipping espresso while manipulating the Kingdom's economy from a plush armchair. But because Suzuki genuinely cared about Shizuku's safety, he stepped into the role where he could absolutely dominate—handling the logistics, controlling the shadows, and playing to his massive strengths rather than pretending to be a frontline hero.
Everyone had their own role. Nagumo forcing himself onto the frontlines to act tough, only to beg a healer to protect him... it just left Kaori feeling incredibly exhausted.
Her mind spun with heavy, conflicting desires. Her body craved the dark, overwhelming security she felt when Suzuki corrected her posture in the moonlight. Driven by a subconscious, desperate need for that exact peace of mind, her bare feet carried her down the hall, stopping directly in front of a door she absolutely shouldn't be at.
Meanwhile, inside that very room, Suzuki was staring at his girlfriend in complete, stunned silence.
"Comforting Kaori? Are you completely serious right now?"
Did Shizuku really just suggest he do the exact same dirty, mind-melting things to Kaori that they had just finished doing to each other?
"...."
What on earth was wrong with his girlfriend?
Yet, as an unbidden, deeply erotic image of Shizuku and Kaori tangled together in his bed flashed through his highly optimized brain...
No, no! Focus! What the hell am I thinking?!
Still, living in Tortus was taking a massive psychological toll. Suzuki had spent the entire week committing high treason, legally enslaving corrupt nobles, threatening ministers, and ruthlessly bending the economy to his will. It was impossible for him not to be incredibly stressed.
Shizuku's warm, yielding presence was his ultimate anchor. Plunging into her at night was the only thing that bled the dark, sociopathic tension from his muscles. Her body healed his mind. They supported each other perfectly.
While the rest of the class was physically exhausted from swinging swords, Suzuki was mentally exhausted by the crushing pressure of quietly trying to conquer the world so his loved ones wouldn't die. He couldn't rely on Kouki's blind idealism, and he certainly couldn't rely on Nagumo.
Sure, Nagumo was supposedly the "Protagonist" of this dimension. But Suzuki wasn't a man who waited around for a teenager to crawl out of an abyss to save the day. He absolutely despised the classic mentor trope—idiots like Gojo, Jiraiya, or Go Gunhee who lazily passed the torch to the next generation, leaving the fate of the world in the hands of traumatized kids.
Suzuki had his own power. He had his own gold. He was going to orchestrate a hostile takeover of the plot himself.
But right now, his mind was completely short-circuiting at Shizuku's absurd proposition.
"I-I know it sounds crazy, and you might not be able to accept it," Shizuku stammered. Her hair was a messy, gorgeous halo spread across his pillows, her flushed skin still radiating the heavy heat of their lovemaking. "But... please. Kaori desperately needs an anchor right now. I know you're the only man I can actually trust with her. If she goes into that dungeon tomorrow without someone to truly support her... she's going to break."
Shizuku knew her logic was completely messed up, but so was their entire reality. They had been violently kidnapped to a death game. They could be slaughtered tomorrow. To survive that suffocating pressure, humans needed a profound, primal release.
Shizuku was incredibly lucky to have Suzuki's dominant, protective embrace. But poor Kaori had no one.
Furthermore—and Shizuku would barely admit this out loud—Suzuki's stamina was absolutely terrifying. Even with her Swordmaster vitality, she was constantly left a quivering, exhausted mess while he still looked hungry for more. Having a little "help" in that department wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.
"You don't have to agree right this second," Shizuku whispered, crawling up his chest. She pressed her soft, incredibly warm lips against his in a deep, lingering kiss. "It's a heavy decision, I know. Just... please think about it, okay?"
Shizuku slipped out of his bed, gathered her clothes, and quietly excused herself, leaving him alone to process the madness.
Suzuki let out a long, heavy breath, raking a hand through his hair. Honestly, it wasn't nearly as difficult of a decision as Shizuku thought it was. He was a greedy man by nature; a Merchant always wanted to monopolize the best assets.
But before he could even finalize his thoughts, a soft, incredibly hesitant knock echoed through the silent room.
Suzuki narrowed his eyes, his heightened Assassin senses picking up the delicate, nervous heartbeat on the other side of the heavy oak door. He stood up, throwing a dark shirt over his torso, and opened it.
Kaori stood in the dimly lit hallway. Her silk nightgown fluttered slightly, her cheeks flushed a beautiful, desperate pink as she looked up at him with wide, intensely needy eyes.
"Um... Suzuki-kun?" Kaori whispered, her voice trembling with an alluring mix of fear and forbidden temptation. "C-Can we talk for a bit?"
"....."
---
By the way, I forgot to say happy 100 chapters!
Also, I broke up with my girlfriend today, so console me.
And, I don't have a harem. I believe in monogamy, even though in my country, it is allowed to have polygamy, but actually, the accurate terminology is called polygyny instead of polygamy. Still, it doesn't matter.
So, who is wrong?
It doesn't matter, but I do have my own mistakes since I snapped when everything overwhelmed me from my work, university, travel times, and how she asked for my attention all the time instead of telling her what my limit is, so she can adjust.
Still, don't worry. I am still writing.