I hate it, the morning wood pinched in the undergarment kinda way.
Hajime slams a button and a loud ad starts playing:
“Are you tired of being told that breakfast is the most important meal of the day? Worry no more, my friend!
Join the Lunch Club—a place where breakfast has no power over you! At any hour, any time, anywhere—we provide the best steak, ribeye, and alcohol!
Sign up now for monthly coupons—absolutely FREE! Sponsored by the Dwarf Conglomerate?… blah blah blah...”
…I can’t even be mad. It’s the first time I've heard about steak in this world.
Sighhhhh.
Then I notice my swords—both shoved into the far end of the room. One is twitching like a rabid puppy, the other shaking like it has separation anxiety.
Why are they so fuzzy in the morning? Did something happen?
I stretch my arms wide.
They fall into somethings that are suspiciously soft.
I dare not look in either direction.
I’m in what appears to be a Queen XL bed. To my right? A busty elf baba. To my left? A busty blocky princess.
The sweat. Theres a deep drip. The terror is truly agonizing.
Am I going to lose my arms over this...?
They’re not reacting to this accident. Wait a minute... The Saintess’s mouth is twitching—trying to hold back a smile.
SUSSSSS.
I try to pull my arm away—but it doesn’t move, its not moving. She’s pouting while keeping it trapped with what I assume is magic.
What the hell did she do to her tattas?
Then I glance leftwards.
The Princess’s blocky head is… turning deep shades of pink.
She’s not saying anything—but this is also very SUS.
I test removing my hand from hers—her color darkens.
I put it back—she blushes.
Dark. Pink. Dark. Pink. Like a cursed traffic light.
At some point, I just give up. I lie back down. My arms are chained to deep softness now.
Such a sinful existence.
Rattle. Rattle. RATTLE.
Someone’s going feral at the corner.
Future Hajime-san can deal with that.
A few minutes pass.
I really gotta go to the bathroom—SHIT!
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I rip my hand away from the princess. Don’t care how dark she turns.
I give the Saintess’s a hard tactical squeeze—she gasps and releases me from the magical binding.
RUUUUN TO THE BATHROOM, IT’S ALMOST OUT!!!
[Later…]
A dark, blocky girl is tapping the ground.
The Saintess is holding her bosom like a tragic heroine, scheming something assume.
One sword looks ready to murder everyone here.
The other is oddly needy again, trembling like a wet leaf.
That’s how Hajime-san started his morning in the port city of Micro.
Post-bathroom clarity hits.
I take one look at the scene and say:
"Nahhh. Not dealing with this. Peace out and chill the fuck out."
I grab Caladblock (still fuming with miasma) and stride to the exit like a man on a mission.
Then—BLOCKY FIGURE INCOMING.
"HOLLLLLDDD IT!!!"
Tsk.
Here comes the nagging.
"Hero-kun! How could you!? You've contributed greatly to the defeat of Heavenly King Lucile-san—yet you remain indifferent to my Premium Content? Is it the feet!? Have they truly corrupted you!?"
A vein is throbbing in my forehead, I breathe very deep...
"I hate it. I hate it..."
The muttering doesn’t escape Saintess-san’s ears.
"You hate feet!?" she gasps.
"Then... only the purest and most innocent feet can move our hero!!!"
She starts showing her feet like some kind of auction model—hyperventilating ensues.
The Princess yells:
"Then why hasn’t he Premiumed me yet!?"
"Ain’t mine the most innocent of them all!? They look like beautifully censored bricks!!!"
Hajime mutters under his breath:
"Yes… yours are the most innocent… I can’t see them. That’s why I’m at peace with them."
CRASH! I leap out a window like a wrecking ball.
From the distance I hear:
"How could you!? Don’t forget me~!!!"
...in an oddly winning tone.
Did I forget my compass? Tsk. She’ll be fine without me.
Let’s pass time around town until evening.
With Caladblock (still fuming):
"Hon… what’s wrong?"
"Ara, ara. Now you speak? Sinful hands you had this morning..."
Gulp. This doesn’t bode well.
"It was inevitable! The Saintess didn’t give me a release! The Princess… well, she was soft..."
"BLOCK!"
She screams and blocks me from further conversation.
I am now truly alone.
A single tear escapes.
Guess I’ll grab one of those dwarven beer's.
A gigantic dwarven ad shows cheerful dwarves drinking atop a steampunk airship. It’s loud, overdesigned and overgeared.
Its Perfect.
I walk in and immediately get bombarded with the cursed sight of dwarven men arguing about the best ads for materials, mining and forging.
I find a table with a nice window view of the ad-cursed sea. (Still hate it.)
I sit across from Caladblock and device a way try and fix this stalemate.
"Is your blade sharper than usual?"
No response.
"How’s your pommel? It looked cuter yesterday..."
She twitches.
"You know, this is the first time I’ve brought a sword to a restaurant. Thought we could make some good memories."
I awkwardly scratch the back of my head—tragic anime boy style.
She breaks.
"Y-Yesss, I’m sharper! My pommel's extra glossy—thanks to my miasma! How did you noticed!?"
Jackpot.
"It was subtle but the miasma made a beautiful impact in pattern arrangement."
She materializes a miasma heart in the air.
I browse the menu… and hate to look at it.
"Ugh... to even see the options, I have to watch the store's ad."
Caladblock says:
"Let me fix that."
She touches the menu. A faint scream is drowned out by the drunken dwarves.
Menu options appear:
AdCrab with Butter
AdSteak (Premium Reserve)
AdSpring Water (from the Mountains of Amanonus?)
Why the hell is that name so prominent?
I order the steak.
Time passes.
Then… THUD. The tavern door opens.
They’ve surely tracked me down, that was fast.
A majestic blocky princess…
And a Saintess…
Both carrying my crappy compass.
To be continued...