—Wow...
—Is she a celebrity? Or some kind of fashion magazine model...?
—Are those chocolate milk-jugs for real...? My unexplainable part is getting magnificent just looking at them.
—Mommy...
It hadn’t been long since we left the clothing store, but countless gazes were already pouring onto Urga and me.
I had expected this.
Just looking at her outfit: super hot pants that not only exposed her luscious, thick thighs, coupled with a black tank top that didn’t even try to hide her lower belly peeking through the open zipper—instead, it proudly displayed her taut abs and toned back.
This provocative-beyond-belief attire was more than enough to draw the eyes of every male in the vicinity.
Of course, I had anticipated that eyes would be drawn to Urga, so I deliberately bought a large pair of sunglasses at an eyewear shop and put them on her.
But can you cover the sky with a single palm?
If anything, the sunglasses slightly concealing her fierce eyes only softened her wild beauty, making her exude a mystique that attracted the gazes of men even more aggressively.
—Fuck... did you see that just now?
—I was speechless for a second. I gasped so hard I thought I was going to stop breathing.
—Is she a foreigner? No, she has to be. How could those magnificent milkers be domestic produce? She’s definitely foreign.
Normally, walking around the streets in such a revealing outfit in a public place would lead to misunderstandings—people assuming she worked in a profession one couldn’t speak proudly of.
But perhaps society had changed, or maybe it had just become more lenient regarding such attire?
Things had become a bit more open.
—Should I try talking to her? Just to see... even if I can’t eat the fruit, I can at least poke it...
—Can’t you tell by that physique? That height and those muscles... she’s clearly a veteran.
—You think? I guess so. Exposure equals defense power, right? There must be a reason a woman like that walks around so defenselessly.
’Veterans.’ A term referring to the top-tier experts among the Hunters.
Since these abilities were basically based on RPG games, the nickname naturally stuck among people, who are suspiciously serious when it comes to gaming.
However, perhaps because they had gone through all sorts of hardships over the last ten years, or maybe they just wanted to act in a way befitting the nickname Veterans...
Some wandered dungeons wearing full-body animal mascot suits you’d see at an amusement park.
Some men roamed dungeons wearing nothing but a single pair of panties.
Of course, they dressed properly when entering hardcore dungeons, but...
Since the people leading society had been doing this shit for ten years, what must the general public—who lived under their protection and considered them heroes—think?
’Unless Eleonora pops out, most outfits don’t even fall into the category of public indecency anymore.’
[What about bikini armor?! Like, that leather outfit this wild boar used to wear...!]
’I’ve seen micro-bikinis called armor in fashion magazines. Compared to that, this is nothing.’
Anyway, while there were these secondary reasons, the most critical factor drawing all these gazes was simply that Urga was ridiculously beautiful and sexy.
Under the bright sunlight, a possessor of an incredible body wearing sunglasses.
Even though it was autumn, the temperature wasn’t low, causing her tanned skin to glisten with a slick sheen of sweat—an exotic beauty overflowing with healthy eroticism.
How could any bastard with a cock just pass by without looking?
’’Ah!’’
Whether she knew about the countless male gazes pouring onto her or not, Urga went a step further. Her eyes sparkled as she spotted a large intersection and crosswalk, and she began to run toward it.
—Oh my, oh my...
—Surely she’s not going no-bra? No way...
—But look at those dynamic milk-jugs! That massive cleavage is just...!
With every step she took, her magnificent chocolate milkers displayed a mysterious tectonic shift. The studious males, eager to learn, began to slightly bend their waists one by one, using Urga’s chest as their educational material.
Just as soldiers in a war movie dive into trenches or drop prone when they hear enemy artillery, the power of this sudden ’Male Heart Bomber’ appearing without an air raid siren was truly devastating.
—But what’s with that guy next to her?
—I don’t know. A manager or something? Maybe an interpreter.
—If it’s for a sister like that, I could volunteer without pay.
—I could totally cum without even getting hard.
—Kekeke, retard.
As expected of fellow scumbags. Countless gazes turned toward me as I hurriedly chased after Urga, sticking close to her side.
Urga, seemingly oblivious to the envy and jealousy in their eyes, jumped up and down in place like a child (seeing other heavy parts boing-boing along with her, I almost had to bend my waist for a moment too).
She pointed her finger at a store across the street and spoke.
’’That! What is that? That... Hand... phone? And what is a telecom carrier?’’
’’It’s a tool people here use to contact each other.’’
’’Uh... like a crystal ball?’’
’’I don’t know exactly what that is, but yeah, something similar.’’
’’Wow!’’
So that’s why everyone was muttering with something held to their ears!
—Huh? W-What the!
"Wow! It’s real... a human voice is actually coming out...!"
—Hey! What the hell... uh...?
Without any warning, she snatched a cellphone from the ear of a man who was waiting for the signal next to us. She pressed it to her own ear, listening to the voice flowing out, jumping up and down in amazement.
’’Kuh-huh, sorry! It’s just so fascinating!’’
—Uh? Ah, yes... uh, thank you!
’’?’’
There are all kinds of weirdos!
But even that seemed fascinating and fun to her. Urga giggled at the man whose phone she had snatched.
At that moment, the bastard’s suit pants began to squirm slowly. It was a terrible sight, truly unbearable to watch.
’’Come on, the light changed. Let’s go quickly.’’
’’Iron horses running everywhere, people moving in perfect order according to the control of that device... Hiyah... living a long life really lets you see everything.’’
It was unexpected.
I thought for sure Urga would hate things like traffic lights and crosswalks.
After all, she had lived her entire life in the wild, living the life of an outlaw far removed from control. I thought she wouldn’t look kindly upon mechanical devices controlling her walking and movement like this.
But considering she had looted and carefully read books recording the Kingdom’s culture even in that frozen wasteland where mere survival was a struggle...
Perhaps she considered even this control a privilege of civilized people and was rejoicing in it.
’’Stop making such a fuss. You’re going to be seeing this for the rest of your life, so why act like someone with no lingering attachment to life?’’
’’Hehe... saying such praiseworthy things again. Even if I am my darling’s broodmare, saying it so openly...’’
’’Shh! Shh!’’
No matter how open society had become, there were things you could say and things you couldn’t!
I hurriedly covered Urga mouth with my hand. Instead of being flustered, she licked my palm with her tongue.
Slurp.
Really, she was unstoppable in a different way than Eleonora.
I secretly liked the soft, wet sensation on my palm and wanted to enjoy it, but the surrounding gazes were concerning.
—What are they doing?
—I don’t know. But didn’t that woman just speak our language?
—I... think so? Isn’t that why he covered her mouth?
Those guys seemed to have missed hearing the female they were ogling—who was not only screwing me but had just called herself my seed-receiver—speak.
Urga giggled as if she found the men’s conversation amusing.
Immediately, she placed her hand on my shoulder, spun around to get behind me, and then boldly hugged me from the back, pulling me into her embrace for everyone to see.
Of course, the bastards behind us murmured at Urga’s sudden action, but having already gotten used to it in this short time, we discussed our next destination.
’’By the way, where did you say we were going again? That, uhhh... w-what was it called...?’’
’’A cafe. You said you wanted to enjoy ’Tea Time’ like the daughters of wealthy merchants or noble young ladies do, right?’’
’’Yeah! That, that! Hehe... Tea Time or whatever the hell it is, isn’t that the very symbol of civilized people?’’
Just thinking about it seemed to make her expectantly happy. Squeeze. Urga buried my head deep between her massive breasts.
I wanted to say that our country doesn’t exactly have a designated ’Tea Time’ like in the UK, India or places like that, but I’m not the type of person to make a child cry by telling them Santa doesn’t exist, so I didn’t add any unnecessary comments.
Whether she knew this fact or not...
As if to prove her mood had skyrocketed, Urga spun around in place while still hugging me. Then, seemingly deciding that wasn’t enough...
She suddenly shoved her hands into my armpits, lifted me up effortlessly, and sat me right on top of her shoulders for a ride.
’’What are you doing! Put me down!’’
’’No! We’re going to that Ca...fe? Or whatever it is, just like this! So, Darling, you guide the way!’’
I wanted to resist, but the moment Urga took a step, the motion sickness rising from the gut—triggered by riding a mount—caused me to go limp atop her head, reduced to the status of a navigation system in charge of giving directions.