episode_0036

Late at night, a ruin once called ‘paradise.’

In that place where only the sound of crackling firewood could be heard, I stared blankly at the campfire.

“…”

“…”

The rest of the group had all retired to sleep, claiming exhaustion.

As an awkward silence settled in, I ran my fingers through tangled hair, pondering internally about what to say.

What should I start with?

The one who should be noisy was oddly quiet, making me even more uneasy.

What kind of wish is he contemplating so seriously?

If you have a wish, why not just make it quickly? Why hesitate so indecisively?

Feeling frustrated, I glanced at him briefly.

Observing the desire-filled eyes of that guy, I couldn’t help but look back at the campfire.

Damn it.

If emotions are so blatantly evident, how intense must his desires be?

Shortly after possessing him, I didn’t feel it much, but in the original novel, that sword could be described as truly insane.

Would readers have called him ‘a lunatic with his brain hanging by a thread’ for no reason? From the way they described him as creepy and unsettling, he was undoubtedly sincere in [R-18].

Such a character subtly acting like a gentleman, refraining from vulgar language…

I couldn’t help but doubt.

Even after going through a remake, would the characters’ personalities change?

No? They haven’t changed. While the overall story framework may have shifted, the characters’ traits remained largely consistent.

In other words, that guy’s perverted nature remains unchanged.

I can’t grasp how extreme his demands might be.

From late afternoon into the wee hours, his contemplation suggests a truly creative mind.

Shouldn’t I intervene soon?

If left to ponder further, an unbearable demand might arise.

Consumed by anxiety, I quietly spoke up while gazing at the campfire.

“How long will you keep just thinking?”

“About what?”

“Your wish. You seem to have been contemplating since the afternoon; isn’t it time to decide? You’re not someone who dwells on things.”

Probing, I spoke, and the guy with the sword smiled mischievously at me.

“You’re right, I’m not one to dwell. But… isn’t it inevitable to think deeply now?”

“…”

“It’s a single wish ticket. I don’t want to make a regrettable choice.”

True enough.

After all, who would want to waste a wish ticket that might never come again?

As I frowned sadly and shook my head, the guy with the sword stood up from his seat and slowly approached me.

Then, sitting beside me, he chuckled softly.

“Why, are you scared I might actually suggest spending a night together?”

“If, if it’s just for one night, I, I can do it! It’s not scary at all!!!”

“Haha… Your words don’t match your body language. You seem quite nervous, don’t you?”

Was I trembling?

Glancing down at my hands at his words, I discovered that indeed, my hands were shaking.

…It seems spending a night together is more challenging than I thought.

My body’s reaction clearly indicates that.

Yes, objectively speaking, it’s definitely too much.

It’s only been about a month since I possessed the body of a man.

No matter how well my mind adapts, spending a one-night stand might be tough.

Yes, definitely not. Absolutely not. It’s impossible unless you were born gay.

But the wish must be granted.

If I don’t grant it here, I won’t be able to awaken the sword guy when faced with another unbearable threat.

Gathering my resolve, I met his piercing gaze head-on.

“It’s okay, I just felt a little chilly and shivered, that’s all.”

“…It’s a myth that witches feel cold.”

“Why, there’s such a thing. Like a chill. How perverted did you have to be to catch a cold?”

“Well, I don’t think I had to be that perverted.”

“Don’t think according to your standards, you damn pervert.”

“What you consider normal could be quite perverted in someone else’s eyes.”

Opening his eyes halfway, he glanced at him, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

“Anyway, you’re about to make a wish, right? But can you really handle it?”

“What can’t I handle? As long as it’s not asking to be a lover or get married.”

“What, you’ve thought that far? I was just thinking of something simple.”

“…Stop joking around and make a wish already. What do you want?”

Cutting off the nonsense and throwing the question, he hesitated for a moment.

“I’ve decided.”

He smiled broadly, making a wish that was far from my expectations.

“Pat my head.”

This guy…

Is he serious?

—–

Contrary to Beatrice’s words, I pondered for a long time.

With a wish that might not come true again, that’s only natural.

It was even said that even lewd things were possible! So, honestly, wouldn’t it be normal to hesitate for a long time once you’ve become male?

Standing firm with a stiff lower lip, I thought for a long time.

What wish could I make to be satisfied?

However, the more I pondered, the more I realized that many things were restricted.

It was only natural.

I harbored not only lust for Beatrice but also the emotion of ‘love.’

If it were other women I had met before, when asked to make a wish, I would have demanded a relationship without hesitation.

But Beatrice’s situation was a bit different. So, there was something difficult about demanding a relationship recklessly.

Rather than forcing it, I wanted it to happen in a state where our hearts were in sync.

Hearing the words “I love you” from the witch in front of me, I wanted to continue the relationship.

After all, wasn’t it to find such a woman that I embarked on this arduous journey?

I didn’t want to make a lewd wish and then have the relationship end after just one night.

Honestly, I doubted if it would really end, but for some reason, I had a premonition.

If I made a lewd wish here, it meant that as soon as this journey ended, I would completely lose her.

So, I decided to be more patient.

It’s okay to proceed slowly; I must definitely capture the witch in front of me.

No matter how strong the iron wall, if you knock on it several times with a siege hammer, it will surely open.

Having made my decision, I told the tense-faced witch:

“Pat my head.”

Upon hearing this, the witch looked puzzled.

Her expression seemed to ask, ‘Is this guy serious?’

Even to me, it seemed absurd.

Risking my life and breaking through obstacles, and all I ask for is a head pat—does that even make sense?

Nevertheless, I had no regrets.

The ‘hunch’ that had saved my life every moment was telling me. This choice was truly the best one to create ‘possibilities.’

To Beatrice, who still wore an expression of disbelief, I said once again:

“Let’s settle for a head pat. That should be enough.”

“Are you serious…? Not asking to touch my chest, kiss, or have a relationship, just a head pat?”

“You don’t like it, do you? From what I see, even patting your head seems barely within the boundaries.”

As if confirming the correctness, Beatrice nodded with a stern face.

I didn’t know why she had a stern face, but I had a rough idea of the reason.

The witch was a being with a strong sense of pride, so being patted was probably humiliating to her.

However, no matter how much I disliked it, this was something I couldn’t compromise on.

The soft touch I felt when I absentmindedly stroked her hair.

And Beatrice, who quietly accepted my touch.

Finally, even the languid expression she showed.

These were all things I wanted to feel once again.

If I continued to stroke her there, how would Beatrice change?

Would that wall-like barrier between us loosen a bit?

With anticipation, I asked her.

“Can I keep petting you?”

In response, the witch closed her eyes silently and removed her hat.

…It must be a sign of permission.

I removed my gauntlet and slowly began to stroke Beatrice’s head.

Pat, pat.

As I stroked her head, Beatrice’s expression relaxed just like it did back then.

Enjoying the touch like a dog? No, more like a cat?

Seeing a completely different side of her from her usual sharp self, I calmed my racing heart and continued to stroke her.

Pat, pat.

“Heh, heh…”

With a little more petting, she shivered and let out a soft moan.

Did she get injured during today’s battle?

But no… there didn’t seem to be any wounds on the witch’s hat.

As I tilted my head and examined her face, I soon discovered the reason.

Her tear-streaked face, gritting her teeth.

I realized then that things were going terribly wrong.

It must have been quite humiliating.

To shed tears like that, how much must she have disliked it?

Startled, I stopped petting her, and Beatrice looked at me with a sharp gaze, asking,

“You’re not going to pet me anymore?”

I wanted to say.

How could I continue petting when she had that expression?

But if I said those words, she would probably dislike it even more.

I chuckled awkwardly and spoke up.

“This is enough. I should go to bed soon since I’m getting tired.”

Despite being excited due to the gentle touch, I needed a reason to stop petting her right now.

Stretching and pretending to be tired, however… Beatrice’s expression was quite intimidating.

“Keep petting me.”

“What?”

“I said keep petting me.”

…Wasn’t she supposed to dislike it?