Chapter 77

EP.77 The Lonely Saint, Persimmon, and the Story of the Finals

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, which was clear of clouds.

I had just woken up, my head still groggy.

Something was quickly covering the gaps in my unfinished thoughts.

Today, the house seemed larger than usual.

The room was filled with the light of dawn.

Occasionally, abandoned spider webs were found on the cracked walls.

The sky seemed distant, and the ground felt like a swamp, pulling me in.

I felt myself shrinking.

Actually, the house wasn't that big.

But the reason it felt that way was, of course, psychological.

Every time I thought that I was truly alone in this space, I felt this emotion.

I called it loneliness.

The moment I became aware of it, the world seemed to pull away, as if the observer had pulled the lens back.

Alone, I felt intense anxiety.

Along with the regret of the past, a physiological disgust with myself, who would undoubtedly continue to survive like this, spread through my veins to every corner of my body.

Whenever I felt this way, my past self would try to purge the disgust by cutting into my body and letting the blood flow.

But now, I know a much more effective remedy than seeing blood.

I touched my body as if pouring medicine into a heart that was being squeezed.

I could already feel my body getting excited with anticipation.

And then...

Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring—

"..."

An unfamiliar sound from beside my pillow pierced through my eardrums and reached deep into my brainstem.

What was that sound?

It was a sound I had definitely heard before, though I couldn't remember when.

Before I could think about when, the sound continued, like a crying baby throwing a tantrum.

I soon found the source of the sound.

It was my phone.

There was no one who would contact me after almost a decade, and since I hadn't paid the bill for a while, I had almost forgotten about the phone's ringtone, which was now vibrating and ringing in my ear.

Before answering the call, I unconsciously checked the caller.

It was just a random number, but...

...No?

Persimmon.

For a moment, I wondered what this was about, but my groggy mind quickly woke up and recalled past events.

I was sure I had saved that girl's name as "Persimmon."

What does this girl want, calling so early in the morning?

...Oh. It's already nine.

Come to think of it, I played games late into the night yesterday, practicing for the tournament that had somehow reached the finals.

While I was thinking this, my phone was still trembling pitifully.

I thought it might hang up at any moment.

I wasn't the type to always answer calls, but ignoring it seemed wrong.

I reluctantly accepted the call.

"Onee-san!"

"..."

Even through the poor quality of the phone, I could feel the freshness that only someone her age could have.

Thinking this made me feel like an old person.

Or maybe like someone pretending to be old.

Anyway, no matter how many times I heard her call me "Onee-san," I couldn't get used to it.

As I remained silent, she got to the point.

"It's nothing, hehe."

"Uh-huh."

"Onee-san, you promised to use informal language, remember?"

I did, indeed.

"Um, well, hehe, it's nothing."

"Okay."

I tried to listen to her, but she kept stalling and wouldn't get to the point.

I realized she was about to ask me for something difficult.

Not necessarily difficult, but maybe something troublesome and complicated.

She wouldn't have called at nine on a Saturday morning just to hear my voice, so what could it be?

The request or suggestion she was about to make to me.

The answer came more easily than I expected.

I spoke up.

"Is it about the orphanage, or rather, the children's home?"

"You surprised me. How did you know?"

I just had a feeling.

With that, Si-eun's words started flowing.

"It's nothing. The children's home is having a small event."

"An event?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure what it is. They say it's not grand, just a way to thank the people who look after the children on their way in and out. Does that sound too heavy? Anyway, it's an event to show gratitude."

"..."

I knew there was something similar at the orphanage.

Events to satisfy the donors' desire to help, which I secretly mocked in my youth.

"Since the children's home mentioned it, the kids asked the director if you were coming, which made her very uncomfortable."

"Me?"

Why would they mention me?

Of course, I had donated almost all my money to the orphanage, but that was a secret known only to me and the director.

The director wouldn't have told anyone, respecting my wish to donate anonymously.

Oh, right, there was something else.

An act that could hardly be called a donation, but still involved spending money.

"Do they really like Hawaiian pizza that much?"

"No, I don't think so."

The polite high school girl, Si-eun, firmly interrupted me.

I pursed my dry lips.

Even though she liked it too.

"Anyway, the kids really want to see you. They even went to the director's office in groups of ten or so and threw a tantrum. Sigh."

If it wasn't the Hawaiian pizza, why do they want to see me so much?

So, that was her reason for calling.

She was asking me to come to the orphanage's event.

For a moment, I wondered why she, who wasn't an orphan or a resident, would ask me such a thing, but I soon understood.

Just because she was kind.

Whether it was the director's troubles or the children's complaints about wanting to see me, Si-eun had called me out of concern.

So, I answered.

To save the kind girl from wasting more time.

"I won't go."

"..."

That place gave me a bittersweet and unpleasant feeling.

Seeing nothing had changed in over ten years made me naturally recall my unhappy past.

The resolve I made back then, that I would never return there by my own will, hadn't changed.

Realizing she couldn't change my firm decision, Si-eun reluctantly gave up, though she sounded very disappointed.

"I'm sorry."

"..."

"Even if your mind changes..."

"It won't."

"Sniff."

Si-eun kept apologizing until she hung up.

What was she sorry for? She was too kind...

I put the phone back on the bedside table and lay back down on the bed.

To continue what I had been thinking about earlier.

But just talking to someone for a bit,

the overwhelming loneliness had already faded.

Moreover, since I had woken up late today, if I started that now, I might not be able to turn on the TV in time.

No, I definitely wouldn't.

I didn't know how to restrain myself...

So, I got up.

My body, which had been so excited, made a pitiful plea, but I ignored it and sat down at the computer to start my day.

Unaware of what consequences this would bring.

...

...

...

Chest.

Chest.

The milk is flowing.

The chest is heaving.

Hot.

What am I thinking?

The image of the saint, who couldn't completely dodge the rapier due to her mind being elsewhere, flashed before my eyes.

The armor had been judged to have low durability and was gradually disassembling, and her health bar was almost depleted, putting her in a life-threatening situation.

I'm fine.

It's the chest.

In this attack, the chest was too big, almost preventing her from dodging.

If I had known, I should have reduced the chest size to lower the hit chance.

"..."

What a ridiculous thought.

It feels so good when touched. The size that can't be covered by five fingers is so soft and squishy, and the inside is even softer and more delicate than the outside, making it feel good just to touch it.

It's also incredibly sensitive, and just a little kneading makes the whole body tingle pleasantly, as if electrocuted.

...

Hot.

What am I thinking again?

- Squeal!

The saint in the screen screamed.

My concentration was momentarily lost, and I couldn't react appropriately.

The rapier, which seemed to be aiming for the upper body, had somehow targeted the thighs.

I managed to avoid a hole being pierced in my body,

but the thin blade of the almost non-existent rapier once again cut through the armor and the cloth underneath.

The pale, milky thigh flesh captivated my eyes.

It's also incredibly... sensitive. If you gently stroke it and then firmly grip it, leaving a handprint, the body naturally bounces up, feeling so good...

Hot.

What am I thinking again?

"Kyaah!"

The saint's screams and my own continued.

I managed to avoid the fatal attacks, but the end was near.

Should I call this a performance issue?

I never imagined I would fail in the finals of a tournament due to unfulfilled desires.

Was the desire really... building up so quickly?

Just one day without it, and my thoughts are completely focused on it. That's clearly abnormal.

But it feels so good, the saint's moans and the way she looks are so sexy and beautiful, or rather, she's not just moaning but completely wetting herself, which I, the queen of laziness, find so enjoyable that I wash the sheets every day without any trouble. Yes, it feels so good, I really want to do it. I think I was wrong. No, I was wrong. This