Buzz—
That magnetic call of "Master" was like an electric current striking through Sumire's skull, leaving her bones feeling weak and tingly.
Heavens... what did Makima call her?
Master?
This was simply turning the natural order upside down!
Logically speaking, Sumire was the main body, so there was no problem with the Incarnation calling her Master, but the problem was... this was Makima!
This was the Control Devil who viewed all living beings as ants and raised everyone else as dogs!
This feeling was truly extraordinary.
It was as if that high-and-mighty queen, who would even make Kingpin kneel in submission, had bowed her head solely before her at this moment.
This extreme contrast of being "above ten thousand, yet below only you" made Sumire's heart race wildly, her vanity satisfied like never before.
Although there had been some minor friction when she was first summoned, Sumire wasn't the type to hold a grudge over such things.
"Cough... well, of course there's a reward."
Her face reddened slightly, and she felt quite embarrassed, but her body honestly lunged into Makima's embrace.
Soft.
That was Sumire's first reaction.
Then came the scent.
While Makima usually exuded an inhuman pressure, this body was a genuine female form, carrying a faint, feminine fragrance.
And then there was... that damn height difference.
Makima was tall and slender, while Sumire was still in her adolescence.
In this hug, her cheek happened to be buried right against Makima's full chest, which was tightly wrapped in a white shirt.
"Mmh..." Sumire felt as if she had fallen into a pile of gentle cotton.
Before she could adjust her posture, a warm palm had already gently covered the top of her head, beginning to stroke her hair tenderly.
Once, twice.
The movements were gentle, filled with a certain maternal radiance.
If Sumire hadn't possessed a firm will and a lack of interest in FPS games, those two strokes might have actually coaxed a "Mama" out of her.
It was just that Sumire felt something was a bit off.
Resting her head on Makima's chest, she stole a glance upward.
She saw Makima looking down at her as well.
That look... didn't look like she was looking at a Master at all, nor an inferior; instead, it was filled with a strange kind of "maternal love."
It was like... looking at a beloved pet.
"Wait... why are you devils all like this?" Sumire couldn't help but complain internally, yet she could keenly sense that the way Makima looked at her was completely different from how she looked at those gang members she called "dogs."
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