Chapter 7

EP.7 The Closet-Optimized Warrior and the Menstruating Saint

It happened four days ago.

To be precise, on the third night since her body had changed.

She was about to turn on the broadcast,

or rather, she actually turned it on,

but couldn't play a single game and turned it off again.

Suddenly, her body started to hurt.

She slowly got up from the chair and lay down on the bed.

Her head felt heavy, and her body was shivering, which was a clear sign of a bad cold, so she closed her eyes.

...

The pain in her breasts and the cramps in her lower abdomen woke her up from a light sleep.

The pineapple pizza she had eaten wasn't the problem.

It was just that her new body was causing issues.

She had been prepared for this.

She wasn't the type to make a fuss.

But, it was still confusing.

She woke up from a strange, indescribable discomfort, only to find a corner of the bedsheet stained bright red. Who wouldn't be shocked?

She wiped herself and went to the convenience store to buy sanitary pads.

After looking up how to use them online, she roughly put one on.

That was it.

It didn't hurt much.

If I describe it as the feeling of a razor scraping the skin, would you understand?

It was bearable.

Apart from that, there was nothing really happening, but she felt uneasy,

and a slight sense of depression enveloped her.

But, there was no sudden emotional outburst or crying.

A man in his twenties wouldn't cry over something like this; he'd have to cut off his balls.

Now, he wasn't a man anymore, and he had no balls to cut, but that's just how the expression goes.

The money spent on sanitary pads was a real waste,

and the part-time worker's gaze lingering on her chest was annoying. It wasn't until she got home that she realized her nipples were hard enough to show through her white T-shirt.

That was the extent of the daily changes caused by her period.

Ah.

There was one problem.

Her lower body kept getting wet with blood...

...

...

She couldn't take it.

The unfulfilled desire was building up in her body like a dam.

Yeah.

Lately, she was a bit... unsatisfied.

...a bit.

***

When the minimap was turned on, the 'Saint' checked the battlefield.

The situation was dire.

The second line of defense had already been breached, revealing a path to the core,

and even the NPC, the Mercenary King 'Lindberg,' who started acting after the defense line was broken, was being systematically eliminated.

The overall score clearly showed the situation.

7 to 32.

1/4/5, 1/6/4, 2/11/3, 4/7/1, 0/3/0.

The 'Saint' hadn't done much better.

0/1/7.

If it had been a winning game, it would have been a decent KDA for a priest, but in this losing game, it was hard to say she had performed well.

The game was completely one-sided.

One of the teammates had already given up and was hiding in the core.

A mage with a 0/3/0 KDA.

I can understand his frustration, but he should at least play the game...

The skill gap was too wide.

On our side, we had one Yellow 1 with 0 points, and the rest were all Yellow 2.

The opposing team had one Orange 50, and the rest were all Yellow 1, with a single Green 1 to balance the team.

It was a late-night weekday, so the queue took a while, and this was the match we got.

I can understand that much.

If the Orange 50 player played well, they could break through the Green 1 player.

The problem was that the Green 1 player was just a Green 1 in name.

In other words, it was likely a secondary character.

The assassin, who usually targets the backline, was expertly mocking and killing the melee warrior.

The assassin had invested heavily in mobility, moving around the battlefield with ease, and no one on our team could beat him one-on-one.

It was only natural that the game was one-sided.

The problem started there.

As our front line crumbled, the backline's mage and priest were also at the mercy of the enemy.

However, the warriors and rogues all complained about their unfair treatment.

They lost to a lucky break,

or their keyboard was malfunctioning,

or they didn't get support from the team.

The team chat quickly turned into a political arena.

Those defending themselves were now judging their teammates.

I wish they had focused more on the game instead of chatting.

The 'Saint' didn't type a single message in the game.

The mage was also quiet, either because he was taciturn or because his chat was blocked.

...

The mage had already given up and wasn't even watching the game, so he didn't react to the abuse.

His teammates, who were cursing him, found their next target.

The next political target was the Saint.

[ Pupupupurin: What is she doing, not healing at all? ]

[ ByeByeMyPretty: I could have won if she had responded to my call. ]

[ KungSiNaNaYa: Why is the priest facing the enemy warrior? ]

[ Ivanter: She keeps retreating, damn it. ]

[ Pupupupurin: She just picked the wrong position from the start. ]

[ Pupupupurin: Sigh. ]

[ KungSiNaNaYa: Haha. ]

[ KungSiNaNaYa: How can we win if a priest who can only heal doesn't heal? Haha. ]

[ Pupupupurin: You should understand, haha. ]

[ ByeByeMyPretty: No shield, no cleanse, no healing. Why are you playing a priest? ]

[ Ivanter: Haha. ]

[ KungSiNaNaYa: She's retreating again. ]

[ ByeByeMyPretty: Heal-bitch, get out, zzzz. ]

Thud.

The sound of a foot hitting the ground came through the speakers.

The screen showed the enemy warrior.

The 'Mercenary King' hadn't been executed yet.

This warrior had ignored the front line and charged into our backline.

With the Mercenary King and one enemy warrior deep in the backline,

normally, the numerical advantage would have quickly cleared the front line or rescued the trapped priest.

However, we had one player who had left, and the Green 1 rogue was using his agility to dodge the 'Mercenary King' and two players.

There was no hope for help.

The rogue's play was truly despicable.

Even without direct confrontation, his underhanded tactics were frustrating, and I could somewhat understand the front line's anger.

Frustrating, but impressive.

He had the skill of an Orange borderline player.

The Yellow 2 players had no chance.

Bad luck...

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

A roar, different from a paladin's, came from the enemy warrior.

Thud, thud, thud. A charge that shook the ground.

He had no weapons in his hands.

Not even knuckle dusters like the Sun.

Just bare hands and a bare body.

His body itself was a weapon as he charged.

She hastily cast a holy spell, but it was a quick, one-line spell and couldn't stop the charge.

She had no choice but to switch to her main weapon, a mace.

With a command, the 'Saint' swung the mace with both hands, like a baseball bat.

A clean hit to the thigh.

Even with armor, the attack was strong enough to cause significant damage.

However, the charge didn't stop.

She recognized this player.

'Closet-Optimized Muscle Training 4 Years.'

A bizarre nickname.

He was a concept player who increased the number in his nickname with each passing year.

Famous for selling the shield he received at the start of the game, despite having the 'Shield Master' specialization.

His secondary specializations were related to grappling, and most of his main specializations were related to character size.

'Gigantism,' 'Descendant of Giants,' 'Secret Technique of Growth,' 'Thick Bones,' 'Tough Skin,' 'Pain Resistance,' 'Hand-to-Hand Combat.'

A completely tank-oriented build, but without a shield, it was a strange build.

A shadow fell over the Saint.

'Closet-Optimized Muscle Training 4 Years' had reached her.

His height was almost doubled due to the size-related specializations.

His body was so large that it filled the screen.

- Cough!

The Saint let out a beautiful but pained moan.

Just from the charge, her health was reduced by about a third.

Her character flew into the air and then hit the ground, rolling awkwardly.

She must have hit her head, as she immediately passed out, and the screen went black.

What a brutal attack, not even a bull.

If it were a bull, it might be better.

A character over three meters tall charging with a ferocious momentum felt like facing a tank.

The Saint barely regained consciousness.

Her blurry vision focused like a camera lens.

"Ah."

The grapple was successful.

The giant warrior was on top of the Saint, who was lying flat on the ground.

Her limbs were pinned under his massive body, immobilizing her.

No matter how she pounded the keyboard, the Saint could only twitch.

She was trapped again.

The 7 to 32 score wasn't because she was good.

The team's complaints appeared in the chat.

Apart from baseless accusations, they were all asking for healing.

But how could she heal when she was pinned like this?

As she struggled to break the grapple, the enemy used a move.

The warrior clenched his fist and struck the Saint's stomach.

A girl's scream echoed across the battlefield, and the pain value skyrocketed.

The Saint spat blood, which splattered on the warrior's face.

The warrior's eyes flared, and he punched her with his other hand.

The Saint had no means to resist.

She couldn't even scream, and the vomit that tried to escape her mouth was pushed back into her stomach by the warrior's rough hand.

The warrior didn't finish her off but kept her pinned.

The enemy team's strategy was clear.

With a player who had left and the rogue performing so well, they had already won.

But since the surrender option wasn't available and the game was dragging on, they decided to keep the priest, the main reason the game was still going, pinned.

If they killed her, she would respawn and cause trouble in the backline again, so they just kept her barely alive.

It was an absurd strategy, but it was effective given the situation.

The Saint had been unable to act since the beginning, shortly after the mage left.

She habitually input commands, and the Saint's mouth moved.

"May the grace of Mother Gaia protect this land..."

Crack! The screen flashed white.

A hand the size of a head was close.

It was a slap.

Her concentration broke, and the casting was canceled.

The warrior slapped the Saint a few more times.

Just from that, debuffs like 'Post-Knockout,' 'Dizziness,' and 'Frontal Lobe Damage' piled up.

Even with her face squished to one side,

even with her thin lips swollen and torn, bleeding, the Saint was still beautiful.

The sight was strange.

Something was off.

Something was off.

If it were a week ago,

if she hadn't suddenly become this body,

she would have been excited and typing vulgar messages.

Now...

Now...

It felt like the giant under her was really her.

The lewd comments pouring in, which she couldn't maintain her concept and just repeated like a parrot, were for the same reason.

It felt like they were calling her a prostitute directly.

But.

It was uncomfortable.

If she was really annoyed, she would have blocked the chat.

So,

was it just unpleasant?

...

...

What can I say.

It's all because of the period.

Her libido was higher than before, but she couldn't have her "happy time," so these useless fantasies kept eating away at her brain.

Damn.

It's frustrating.

Author's Note (Postscript)

Updated on 11/15 (Censored)