Wang Yue was beyond frustrated. The situation felt exactly like owning a pet dog—taking it out to breed one last time before having it neutered, just so it could have a “complete life.”
Yes, that was it! This was a humiliation!
It was a triple-threat assault on his character, his dignity, and his very value as a human being.
Moreover, a woman was currently lying on the bed, sobbing and detesting him from the bottom of her heart. How was he supposed to go through with it? He couldn’t accept it, not even psychologically.
Bullying a defenseless woman was beneath him.
I am a man of Golden Spirit!
–
Richel stood before him, arms crossed over her chest, wearing nothing but a thin chemise.
Wang Yue found it completely impossible to look her in the eye.
They were… they were just too big!
When she had been tucked away inside her chainmail, he had only thought she looked a bit bulky. Now that the armor was off and the pressure was gone, they were fully liberated.
Words like “grand,” “magnificent,” “majestic,” or “boundless” weren’t enough to describe them. Truly, this was a miracle of humanity, a treasure of civilization!
In the past, Wang Yue could never understand why Kurosaki chose Inoue. If it were him, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a single second to take Rukia home!
Now he understood. It wasn’t that the author’s head was on wrong; it was that the pervert must have seen this size in real life. Maybe, just maybe, he even… Dammit!
–
Although Wang Yue had been released from the dungeon, the Bishop’s people were everywhere, monitoring his every move.
He had tried to run, but he hadn’t even made it off the street before he was intercepted. The contemptuous smiles on their faces told him that such actions were utterly futile.
Argus’s Gaze had not yet entered his brain, and the Seed of the Inverse Link had not been used. Aside from Mystic Art No. 055, his body hadn’t changed much from before. He was still a well-proportioned youth, a farmer with sun-kissed skin, and a high schooler from Earth who had transmigrated to another world.
There was no one else nearby, only Wang Yue and Richel.
He didn’t dare lift his head, keeping his eyes fixed on his toes. His nose felt hot, as if a nosebleed might erupt at any moment.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, discarding his distractions, and lowered his voice. “Hey, I have an idea… It takes nearly a year from conception to birth. You can just fake morning sickness first, then gradually pad your stomach to make it look like you’re pregnant…”
“Are you questioning my faith?” Richel’s cold gaze pierced through him.
“I’m questioning the authenticity of the ‘divine oracle,'” Wang Yue replied with a meaningful smile.
“Elliot has no reason to lie. Faking a divine oracle would mean his soul would fall straight to hell.”
“Wordplay,” Wang Yue said, raising an eyebrow as he pointed out the flaw. “His exact words were, ‘This is a divine oracle.’ He never specified the subject, giving you a false psychological suggestion.”
“And your evidence?”
“I just went to ask the Church Chronicler. In all recorded oracles, the God of Light has never mentioned a single specific name.”
The connection between the gods and the mortal world was distant and fragmented. The God of Light never issued instructions precise down to the time, person, and place. If He did, the Church wouldn’t bicker so much over the election of a Pope; they would just ask Heaven directly.
Wang Yue didn’t give her a chance to think, speaking rapidly:
“You and the Bishop both hold the rank of High Prelate; your status is equal. If he ascends to the papacy later while you’re stuck as a mother raising a child, you’ll just be a stepping stone for his success. That’s not a good trade.”
Richel’s mouth hung slightly open, her face filled with shock. She hesitated. “Are you… are you looking out for me? But… why?”
–
At seventeen, she had gradually come to understand the meaning behind the frivolous gazes and suggestive remarks of men.
Restrained by her status, they only critiqued her figure behind her back.
She remained inseparable from her heavy armor all day, yet she still couldn’t stop them from using their overactive imaginations to fantasize about the beautiful shapes beneath the steel.
The youth before her was an anomaly. He was more bashful than a girl, his gaze darting away, not daring to look at her directly, as if something terrifying was growing on her chest… It was actually quite cute.
The first time she saw him, he was wearing ill-fitting burlap clothes, holding a dung fork, with a stubborn look in his eyes as he tried to stop a squad of fully armed cavalry. It was like a frog trying to block a speeding carriage, so she had felt the urge to tease him.
Eating that goose hadn’t been necessary. She didn’t even like old, stringy goose meat. So, what was the reason? Looking back, at that time, a malicious thought had bubbled up in her heart—she wanted to see him look sad.
She wanted to kill the goose he had raised since childhood and savor the expression of grief and distress on his face.
That had brought her enough pleasure that she became attracted to him, like an addict seeking another hit.
