Clunk. Clunker-clunk.

 

In the silence, the carriage wheels rolled on.

 

“hehehehe… The weather is truly delightful. It would be great if we don’t encounter bandits. By the way, why are you heading to Sanjevi Village?”

 

“…”

 

“… …”

 

“… Well, the weather is really nice. It’s rare for someone to visit a rural village. Last time, I gave a ride to adventurers. Are you guests adventurers too?”

 

“… …”

 

“… …”

 

“hehehe, hehehehe…”

 

The awkwardness permeated, and while Matapju wanted to break free from it, whether by yelling or talking, I kept my eyes wide open, focused on winning the mental battle with Ping Ballet. We stared each other down without a word.

 

I must not back down. Once a relationship is established, twisting it is an incredibly challenging task. I need to establish dominance or at least an equal footing. That’s the only way to fend off the wicked influence of the lewd Lez.

 

I had to protect my precious Matapju. Straighten the atmosphere, win in the mental battle, and ensure there’s no room for thoughts of flirting with Matapju.

 

“… .”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

This was a battle where the one who speaks first loses.

 

I endured the sharp pain in my eyes. The dryness of my corneas didn’t matter. What mattered was victory, and I was moving closer to it. I could tolerate the pain.

 

From Noble mtl dot com

 

Then, Pingvallez slowly made the first move.

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯?!”

 

His face came closer. It approached… and didn’t stop!

 

What is this? What does it mean? If it continues like this… “It touches.”

 

Our lips were about to touch!

 

A butterfly fluttered its wings in a dynamic motion as it flew around us.

 

…No, it must be a bluff. It doesn’t make sense to sacrifice the innocence of our lips to win a verbal battle. It was clearly a bluff. It’s all for show, definitely.

 

Our noses touched.

 

The reflection of my eyes in Pingvallez’s pupils trembled as if there was an earthquake. This won’t do. I must regain my composure. Revealing hesitation would only mean defeat.

 

To win.

 

…To win, I must also make the first move. Whether it’s a kiss or just words, it doesn’t matter. I must assert that I am a damn playboy. I must shout that you’re the one who should back off.

 

But… what if we collide?

 

If we collide, what will happen to me…?

 

Should I back off? If I step forward, will Pingvallez back off? If he doesn’t back off…? No, no, this torment, this dilemma, it’s all Pingvallez’s scheme. I must not be deceived. I must gather courage.

 

I must have the courage to “step forward even if it means falling off a cliff”!

 

So I, too, moved forward. I prepared myself and pressed my face forward. Our noses brushed against each other,

 

Thud!

 

The carriage shook violently.

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

A slightly different silence filled the air. If the silence before was the tension flowing between two swordsmen engaged in a martial arts showdown…

 

This silence was the anguish and regret of two warriors, like wrestlers fighting for their lives, who had lost something precious. We both spoke at the same time.

 

“Pingvallez.”

 

“You crazy wizard.”

 

“Let’s forget it ever happened.”

 

“The graze doesn’t count.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

I clutched my lips and crouched in pain. Pingvallez, too, wrung his head, banging his forehead against the carriage wall. We gained nothing, only lost.

 

The only sound was the fluttering of enraged butterflies…

 

————-

 

Only after some time spent healing each other’s emotional wounds could we continue the conversation. Though unspoken, we silently agreed to the terms of the ceasefire agreement with our eyes and hearts.

 

“You crazy wizard, are you going back to our homeland?”

 

“Yes, Pingvallez. I have no memories of our homeland, so I’m going back to revive them.”

 

There were three main reasons for the sudden visit to our homeland (which I couldn’t remember).

 

1. As someone born in the Eastern Diplomatic Bureau, it wouldn’t be right to neglect my parents.

 

2. If I could restore my memories, it seemed likely that I would undergo a metamorphosis.

 

When giving reasons, it’s a national rule to give three.

 

I pointed my finger and began, and Ping Balles tackled.

 

“You didn’t need to do it three times.”

 

“There’s a thing called etiquette. So why were you dispatched?”

 

“My senior at work asked me to. They said they were looking for someone a bit off, which seemed like a hassle, and it doesn’t suit me because I’m so normal. So I refused, but…”

 

“But?”

 

“I fell for the senior’s charm.”

 

“…?”

 

“They said they’d let me touch their chest…”

 

“Oh.”

 

It was a convincing reason. Something about our conversation just now made me feel a surge of internal closeness. I thought of a close friend from a past life. A friend with whom you can indulge in all kinds of culture and chatter.

 

I do have friends in this life too, but somehow… they’re all women, so deep conversations between men are impossible. Matopju is girlish, and the senior with facial scars is dreamy and hard-boiled, so clearly female.

 

And in my eyes, Ping Balles in front of me seemed to have been born with a gender bug, but was actually male. I cautiously asked,

 

“By any chance…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“How do you feel about panties?”

 

“Everything…?”

 

My heart began to race.

 

“By any chance, could you tell me about the panties you’re wearing right now and your interpretation of them?”

 

“……..”

 

Pingballes pondered quietly and then shared his own answer.

 

“It’s white.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it has to be seen beyond black stockings.”

 

I shivered.

 

In unison with Pingballes, I delved into a profound, even scholarly, discussion about panties until we reached our destination. We shared souls and felt a brotherly bond.

 

It seemed like Pingballes and I could continue to be close in the future…

 

“Wouldn’t pink lingerie suit Matop-nim well?”

 

“What, seriously?”

 

I leaped into the battlefield to argue against the perplexed non-fan, unable to comprehend the value of non-attachment. I couldn’t forgive myself for feeling a momentary friendship with someone who didn’t understand the principles of fanhood.

 

There was a fierce debate. The focal point was whether an intangible sword matched swordsmanship.

 

When I got off the carriage, I couldn’t forget the expression on the coachman’s face. It was a contemplative expression, debating whether to report it to the guard or not.

 

————-

 

“Is this my hometown…?”

 

I thought that stepping on the land of my hometown would bring back forgotten memories like a panorama. However, reality proved to be just that—reality, with no emerging memories.

 

The material of the fence surrounding the village was wood, and its height was about chest-high. There seemed to be no facilities to prevent intrusion from the outside.

 

The scenery of the village was that of an ordinary rural village. There were scattered houses, and people were digging potatoes in the fields. A reasonably sized village had an adventurer’s guild, a general store, and all the usual fantasy world facilities.

 

The village in the countryside seemed to consolidate all these conveniences into the village head’s house.

 

Where could my home be here? As I wandered and looked around, Pingballes raised his glasses, sending a wary glance.

 

“It’s strange.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Look at the direction.”

 

“Ah, indeed…”

 

When a stranger entered the village, there was no natural response that should have been there. Caution, curiosity, and others.

 

The people passing by just glanced at us and walked past.

 

If this village was a bustling trading center with a high population flow, it would be understandable. But in a village located in such isolation, seeing familiar faces and meeting them again is part of everyday life. It’s said that outsiders inevitably catch the eye.

 

Furthermore, we were a man with a turned-up hooded cloak and a woman dressed in what clearly looked like an expensive suit. Compared to the peasants walking around in rough clothes, they seemed almost like people from another world.

 

I could think of a few hypotheses, but Pingvallez, the intelligence agency agent, would likely have a higher accuracy than my opinion. I asked.

 

“What do you think?”

 

“If we think in extreme terms, it’s a trap set by a dark wizard.”

 

“Aren’t you being too extreme…?”

 

“If we think more reasonably, it could be a story about outsiders frequenting the area recently. It’s highly likely that there are wizards among those members.”

 

“Does that mean…?”

 

“Isn’t it possible that a goblin lair has appeared nearby? It’s likely that they’ve put out requests at the adventurer’s guild on a village level. That’s why outsiders are coming and going.”

 

It made sense. If you were to write the most rational scenario, that would be the content. If this were a scenario, there would be no striking twists or unnecessary turns…

 

“To obtain information, the main group will most probably visit the village head’s house. Alternatively, the village hall as a second option.”

 

“I agree. Considering the possibility of the outsiders being absent, visiting the village head’s residence would be the most efficient.”

 

As if agreeing, a butterfly flew in a circle.

 

“My purpose is to find my lost registration, but to do that, it would be faster to ask the village head rather than wandering around the village asking, ‘Do you know me?’ So, I’m going to the village head’s house.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“Hey! If you’ve taken the money, shouldn’t you be moving?!”

 

“Our commission is for ‘village protection,’ not ‘goblin lair attack.’ Look! Can’t this esteemed academy student even read?”

 

“You’re fine with deceiving someone who doesn’t even know how to read?!”

 

“We both confirmed and stamped the contract. Our mercenary group is simply following the terms. Why can’t you understand this simple fact?”

 

“People should have some sense of shame! For days, you’ve been taking over the village chief’s house and hoarding food, and you call this ‘village protection’ when people are freezing to death?!”

 

“Babbling and yelling like this, no wonder the women⋯⋯.”

 

It was a mess.

 

On the left, a girl in a bright red hood was shouting. Judging by the color and pattern, she was a magician from the Red Tower.

 

On the right, five men who looked like they’d steal a chicken while making a delivery were chuckling. Judging by their attire and armaments, they were low-quality mercenaries.

 

Having a positive attitude is crucial in life. Even when facing such trouble, with a slight change in mindset, one could accept it much more pleasantly.

 

It seems some contract scam has occurred between the village and the mercenary group while I’m here for a hometown investigation. (X)

 

Looks like the session material has rolled in on its own accord as I returned to my hometown. (O)

 

Thinking like this, my confidence surged and my mood improved. Who am I? A lucky guy with material raining down wherever he goes. Someone who’s been loved by the goddess of dice. A person who’s tangled with a princess and a prince.

 

As I stood there with a smug smile, Pingvallez subtly remarked, “If you want to quell the commotion, just say the word.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Just punch one guy, plant a seed of doubt, and things usually quiet down.”

 

“Quite the martial arts aficionado, aren’t you?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“No, I have a more peaceful and better way.”

 

Isn’t it a fantasy magic used in situations like this? Fire and ice manipulators can only use spells like fireballs and ice spears in such situations. Such violent spells inevitably cause damage.

 

Even if thrown casually as a threat, wouldn’t it cause the floor to shatter or the grandfather clock to break?

 

But if it’s fantasy magic, it can be done so easily, elegantly, and quietly.

 

“Sensory Reproduction: Deluge.”

 

From Noble mtl dot com

 

“……!”

 

“……!!”

 

Both sides, who were raising their voices, stopped arguing and shivered. They stood up and headed outside without anyone asking who would go first.

 

Pingvalez looked at them in amazement.

 

“What kind of illusion did you show them?”

 

“I didn’t show them an illusion, I just made them feel a certain… sensation.”

 

“What kind of sensation are you talking about? Fear? Helplessness?”

 

“That…”

 

Thunk.

 

I spread my arms and blocked the red-robed mage who was trying to leave the building. The mage twisted his body and clenched his thighs, unable to move.

 

Seeing that, Pingvalez seemed to realize the nature of the sensation I had induced. The temperature of his gaze dropped by at least 10 degrees.

 

“W-What’s, what’s going on?! M-Move aside! I’m in a hurry…”

 

“That sensation is an illusion, mage of the red tower.”

 

“N-No, please, move aside…”

 

“It’s just an illusion. What you are feeling right now is merely a fantasy… Let’s have a conversation. What exactly is happening? Who are they?”

 

“Be careful… Ah. Ugh, huh…”

 

“……”

 

Ah.

 

I recalled the serious flaw of this spell. Since it was given as a delusionary request, I thought I could exercise restraint within the boundaries of temptation.

 

But, if there is already liquid in the bladder, that is.

 

Hmm.

 

“…Erase the traces with illusion magic──”

 

“You bastard-!!”

 

Whack-!

 

Stars briefly flickered before my eyes, and my jaw snapped. The punch from the enemy wizard was strong.

 

To Fingvalleth, who understands that retaliation is still possible even if it was my own fault, I signaled not to retaliate. It was a reasonable decision.

 

I quietly reflected…