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Chapter 290 – Is That Side More Comfortable?
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 15:30:46 +0000 UTCNagami had already experienced firsthand just how terrifying the Herrscher of Rice’s “Turn You Into a Useless Bum” authority could be.
Think about it: after the rice-cooking wife left St. Freya to join World Serpent, Kiana transformed into the valiant Valkyrie Ranger, mowing down enemies left and right, eventually evolving into Herrscher of Flamescion to Herrscher of Finality.
Bronya, after being separated from Mei, cleared the Quantum Sea and ascended as the Third Herrscher of Reason, even rescuing Seele from its depths and even evolve to Herrscher of Truth.
But when Mei was around to care for them?
Kiana and Bronya basically turned into professional slackers, lazing around like salted fish waiting for meals.
C.C. fell silent as she watched Mei radiate that dignified, unstoppable aura.
Her entire demeanor tightened with solemnity.
The ability to make people willingly lay down their weapons.
That was far more terrifying than a certain puffed-up pufferfish Herrscher, who shouted “ants, ants!” all day only to end up face-planted.
Even if Sirin no longer carried the desire to destroy human civilization, that bloated arrogance was carved deep into her soul.
“I’ll go start preparing, then!” Mei announced, placing her hands neatly on her waist. A smile, warm and genuine, bloomed across her face.
“With Hyperion’s cruising speed, we should reach St. Freya by evening. Isn’t it too early to start?”
The massive ship tore through blue skies and rolling clouds, leaving a long, sharp trail behind it.
Most of the high-level Honkai beasts had already been handled by the Herrscher team.
This time, the majority of Honkai energy had concentrated on the Herrscher of Domination—and Nagami had already dealt with it.
What remained were just scraps, low-level beasts that Schicksal Valkyries and Shenzhou Valkyries could mop up with ease.
Reinforcement squads from other regions were already beginning to withdraw, including Far East.
“Some dishes require long hours of preparation. In the way of cuisine, there must be no negligence!”
Mei raised a slender finger, her expression serious, eyes gleaming with almost divine solemnity.
“Y-Yes, ma’am!”
Faced with the full pressure of the Herrscher of Rice, C.C. instinctively snapped to attention like a soldier before a saint.
Satisfied, Mei gave a small nod, her look one of teacherly approval, before turning toward Hyperion’s kitchen.
“…But just now, when I thought of Sirin, I feel like I forgot something.”
C.C. tapped a finger against her head, frowning. “Hmm… oh, right! Bella! I haven’t let her out yet!”
She started to open a rift into the Imaginary Space—then stopped as her gaze fell on the pink-haired girl beside her.
Forget it.
Sixteen years had already passed.
A little more wouldn’t hurt. Things were too chaotic right now. Better to wait until they returned safely to St. Freya before releasing Bella.
Right now, Yuzuriha was more important.
The Imaginary Space had no distance or direction relative to reality—she could open it from anywhere, not just Siberia.
“Inori, let’s go.”
C.C. clasped Yuzuriha’s delicate hand, their fingers lacing together tightly.
“Mhm!”
———————————————————————
Nagami, meanwhile, was enjoying an entirely different kind of bliss.
From such a close distance, he could clearly admire the sleek thighs wrapped in sheer black stockings—slender and firm, without the faintest trace of excess.
The sensation of his head resting on them was intoxicating, like sinking into a down feather bed.
And of course—it had to be Kurumi.
Even her spirit dress came with garter lace stockings.
Eyes closed, Nagami rubbed the back of his head against her lap, utterly relaxed as three different Kurumis tended to him with lap pillows and massages.
From this angle, he could just catch a glimpse of her pale face above him—though the corner of her lips twitched slightly.
The reason became obvious when her wine-red eye flashed with a dangerous gleam.
Kurumi’s gaze slid toward one particular clone, who had crossed far beyond “just a little fanservice.” That clone even had the nerve to throw her a provocative look.
‘Bold of you… Do you think I’d ever let this slide?’
In the next instant, countless pale hands reached out from the shadows, dragging the unruly clone back into the abyss.
Nagami, pulled from his daze by the clone’s sudden disappearance, blinked his eyes open.
“My dear husband, are you satisfied?” a soft whisper teased his ear. Kurumi’s voice was sweet, but her smile had the faintest stiffness to it.
“Mm…” Nagami let out a small sound of regret.
Kurumi’s massage skills weren’t quite on Rita’s level, but her countless clones more than made up for it, each eager to please in their own way.
The sheer variety of stimulation was overwhelming.
As a self-proclaimed connoisseur of fun, Nagami found it all as delightful as a certain priest savoring his beloved mapo tofu.
By common logic, jealousy shouldn’t exist in Kurumi’s vocabulary. There were two reasons:
First, her affection toward Nagami hadn’t yet reached the level of a lover. Though she teasingly called him “husband,” it was more playful than serious—though it did surpass mere friendship.
Second, in her case, jealousy was almost laughable. After all, before she ever dealt with other girls, she had to contend with her own endless parade of clones.
That stiffness vanished quickly. Kurumi seemed to recall something, her lips curving into a smile laced with mischief.
“So then… did it feel good?”
“…Mm.”
“And compared to Miss C.C.… how does it measure up?”
Nagami’s eyes widened, pulled out of his bliss in an instant.
“…Inori told you?”
“Mhm~” Her elegant smile said it all.
“About the same, I’d say…”
In truth, it was a little better than with C.C.—after all, when he was “with himself,” only his body could enjoy it, and C.C. often came out the worse for wear.
“Who would have thought the world still had such amusing things,” Kurumi mused with that graceful smile, though her eyes glimmered with a curious depth.
Nagami raised an eyebrow, sitting up to meet the gaze of the elegant spirit girl. Her wine-red eyes sparkled with keen interest.
“…What are you plotting?”
“If it’s with Miss C.C.… then it’s fine.” Kurumi’s voice was as soft as water, though something unspoken colored her tone.
Her words trailed quieter, as if she were embarrassed.
“Be careful. Playing around recklessly comes with serious consequences,” Nagami warned.
He wasn’t too shaken, but he was already plotting when he’d need to rein in this little actress.
“My, my. I only had a question for you, dear husband~” Kurumi’s smile grew brighter, delight twinkling in her eyes.
“Ask.”
“Which one feels better?” she leaned close, voice dripping with playful malice. “Is it the girl, or the boy?”
No blush, no hesitation—her fingers twirled her hair lazily as her crimson eyes gleamed with teasing mischief.
She thought back to how gleefully Nagami had watched that clone’s antics.
‘Let’s see how you like this little trap.’
But instead of embarrassment, the black-haired boy’s face twisted into something oddly unreadable.
Kurumi frowned in confusion.
“That’s it? I thought you’d ask something serious. Of course it’s better when both feel good.”
His calm words, carrying the weight of simple inevitability, froze the smile on Kurumi’s lips.
For a heartbeat she blinked blankly, then the meaning slammed into her mind.
W-wha—WHAT!?
