What was the first thing Roy did the morning after gaining a divine technique, you might ask?
He went job hunting.
Specifically—massage parlor hunting.
"Well," he muttered to himself as he stood in line with his arms crossed, "if the heavens hand you a ridiculous technique, you might as well use it professionally."
The place he'd found wasn't just a massage parlor. It was a bathhouse, a very popular one at that. It was large and well-kept. Lots of people lined up at the entrance, chatting away as attendants gradually guided them inside toward the baths.
Roy waited. And waited.
By the time he reached the front, he had already queued twice—once to enter, and once more for masseuse applicants.
The great Roy Taur, former heir of the Taur Clan, and a future legend…
"…Looking for work as a masseuse," he whispered, snorting softly. "Truly inspirational stuff."
Calling himself "great" felt illegal. In this world, he was trash-tier at best. Still, the fall stung. From nobility to a public bathhouse worker wasn't exactly the life plan he'd envisioned.
"Next person."
Roy straightened and stepped forward with a polite smile.
Behind the counter stood a beautiful middle-aged woman in white bathrobes. Her brown hair was tied neatly, her expression was professional—right up until she looked him over.
Her brows snapped together.
"You!" she snapped. "Stop right there."
Roy blinked. "Good morning?"
"I don't think the madam will allow you within an inch of her clients," the woman said sharply. "You look filthy." She had half a mind to immediately turn him away.
Roy's jaw tightened, heat rising in his cheeks. He knew he looked like hell; he'd splashed gutter water on his face that morning, but it barely scratched the surface of the grime that stuck to his body.
Fair, he thought darkly.
He guessed this "madam" she spoke of was the owner and the one in charge of hiring. A test, then. He'd expected something like this. He just hadn't had a way around it.
He had no money, no spare clothes, and no dignity to spare.
"I did wash," he said awkwardly. "With… some effort."
The woman pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, muttering under her breath.
She huffed, crossing her arms under her ample chest, the robes straining slightly. "The madam handles recruitment herself, but I do the preliminary screening, and she'd skin me for not at least considering a pretty face like yours."
Her eyes lingered on his chiseled jaw, the strong lines of his body hidden under the rags. A sigh escaped her, laced with reluctant admiration. "Unbelievable," she said. "Such a mess—and yet…"
She looked at his face again. Then sighed louder.
"Damn it," she cursed softly. "You're lucky you were born with a decent appearance."
Before Roy could respond, she ducked under the counter, rummaging briefly before thrusting a bundle of clean robes at him.
"Here," she said, as Roy caught the robes in his hands. "The madam will kill me if she finds out I gave you free access to the baths; she will also kill me if she finds out I turned you away, but she will also kill me if I send you to her looking like this, so don't make me regret this. Go wash properly in one of the baths showers, then report back."
Roy froze.
Then his face lit up.
"Thank you!" he said sincerely with a bright smile on his face.
Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she waved him off. "G-Go!" she snapped, turning away. "Before I change my mind!"
Roy practically floated toward the baths.
'A free robe, a free bath, and a chance to work like a normal person. Well, what more could you ask for?'
He had kept a neutral expression when speaking to that lady, but only he knew the fantasies cooking up in his mind.
But who knew what she would have reacted if he had leered at her in that situation. In fact, he had seen nothing but beautiful women since he came to the baths.
Even if they were not on his sister's and mother's level, they were much more beautiful than most models from back home on earth.
And the reception lady, 'She had the mature allure of a beautiful milf!' Even from under the loose bathrobe she had on, he could see the outline of her bountiful curves.
"Luck," he whispered, clutching the robes, "you're trying today."
It made him regret not coming here earlier; he might not have even needed to struggle as much as he had.
If he could get a free bath at an establishment such as this because of his appearance, who said he might not also get the masseuse job thanks to his looks as well!?
He knew how expensive these hot springs were. That was half the reason he came here. The other half?
The high-profile clients. That was the real prize. The women who frequented the bathhouse and massage parlor were his real reason for coming here specifically.
The springs sat atop a mana vein, meaning the water naturally aided in mana cultivation. The longer one soaked, the greater the effect.
You could only imagine what kind of people would pay astronomical amounts of money to have a private bath all to themself for weeks.
So it wasn't rare to find the occasional esteemed noble ladies coming for a dip in the public baths. And on an even rarer occasion, they would book a full-body massage to go with it.
Now imagine, Roy becomes a popular Masseuse, all those gorgeous noblewomen would come requesting his services personally once they got a feel of his touch!
Roy hissed loudly at the thought. But then reminded himself to calm himself. He had not even made it into the staff yet!
Roy entered the men's changing room, stripped off his worn clothes, and scrubbed himself thoroughly in the standing showers. Dirt, sweat, and bad luck washed down the drain.
"Much better." Feeling human again, he wrapped a towel around his waist, hiding the monster between his legs from prying eyes, and then slid open the door to the baths—
He looked around, read the signs, and stopped with wide eyes.
His grin spread instantly.
"How lucky!"
The bath area was divided into three sections. He could hear splashing, laughter, relaxed sighs— and long, satisfied "ooohs" and "aaahs" coming from the baths.
But that wasn't what caught his eye.
The signs read.
MEN'S BATH
WOMEN'S BATH
MIXED BATH
Roy adjusted the towel around his waist and ran a hand through his wet hair. He didn't even need to consider which bath to enter.
For a cultured young man such as himself, there was only one correct answer. Well, there were two, but the other one would get him thrown out of here.
"…I am nothing if not honest with myself," he said solemnly.
He turned, opened the door, and stepped into the mixed bath.
Warmth wrapped around him instantly. Steam rose, and residual mana wafted through the air from the water. People relaxed, talked, and laughed.
Roy exhaled.
"…Heaven," he said quietly.
Heaven didn't cover it. The mixed bath was a like dream of exposed supple flesh and water, natural pools bubbling with mana-laced heat, and blue glows dancing on the wet tiles.
And the women—gods, the women. They were like a collection of beauties, with shining, slick skin, lounging or wandering in nothing but towels that did more to tease than cover them up.
Some were perched up on the submerged benches, their towels loosened to bare shoulders and the tops of heaving breasts, a couple nipples peeking like dark cherries here and there.
Others strolled the pathways seductively, their hips swaying, and towels slipping slightly to reveal full, round tits bouncing with each step—pale globes, tanned curves, all glistening under the humid lights.
Roy's blood ignited, a triumphant roar went off in his ears as his cock surged to full mast, straining the towel like a beast in chains.
'Fuck me...'