Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume SS - Chapter 9

Short Story:

Everyone’s Good and Bad Habits

 Luke 

LUKE NOTOS GREYRAT HAD a bad habit: he couldn’t help but chat up every woman he laid eyes on. In particular, women with large breasts made his judgment go out the window. So long as the cup size was large enough, he didn’t care about age. Girls who hadn’t come of age yet, women in the blush of youth, old crones who had passed sixty—he flirted with all of them. If he happened to seduce a girl he could take straight to bed, so much the better. For the sake of his honor, however, it should be said that his flirtations were not solely for the purpose of satisfying his sexual urges. It was only a habit. Using his looks and his voice to make women he took a fancy to like him in return gave him an indescribable sense of exhilaration and achievement. Simply put, he just liked getting friendly with women with big boobs. With women older than his father, on the other hand, he tried out his pick-up lines without any ulterior motives. 

Sometimes, however, his tendency to try and get cozy with everyone brought about trouble.

“My goodness, if it isn’t my darling Luke! How have you been?”

“Hey, Josephine!”

Josephine was the wife of a high-ranking noble. Her husband had already passed away, and she had relinquished her estate to her son, but there were many nobles indebted to her, and so she continued to wield authority at the palace. As you could guess from the fact that she had handed her estate over to her son, she was three times Luke’s age. That obviously disqualified her as a potential love interest for him.

“You have another lovely dress on today. It makes your beauty shine all the brighter… No, your beauty would shine no matter what dress you wear.”

But to Luke, age was only a number. The compliments came pouring out of him practically automatically. Josephine was delighted.

“Oh, Luke, you know just what to say to make a lady smile! This dress, you know, came from the King Dragon Kingdom. It’s woven through with threads made from King Dragons, so it’s ever so durable, not to mention the shine—” While Josephine went on at length about her dress, Luke listened attentively. They went on like that for an hour. 

So that you don’t get the wrong idea, it should be said that Luke wasn’t annoyed by this. On the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed that hour. After all, there was a lady with large breasts in front of him in a dress that showed off her cleavage, talking happily about things that she liked. There was nothing not to enjoy. If anything, moments like these were why he flirted in the first place.

But with Josephine, it didn’t end there.

“Oh, yes. Today, Luke, my darling, I brought you something you’ll like.”

“Did you now?”

“Fetch it here,” Josephine said, and a servant waiting in a corner of the garden stepped forward. They held out a flat object wrapped in cloth to Luke.

“This is for you, my dear. To thank you for always being there to talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t have! Thank you, Josephi…” As the servant unwrapped the item, Luke’s smile froze on his face. Josephine had given him a painting. The subject of the painting, however, was so peculiar and perverted that he shied from putting it into words.

“Oho ho. Do you like it? I had my portraitist paint it just for you.”

“Y-yes… Thank you, Josephine.”

“You are very welcome. I could hardly do any less when it’s for you, my love.” Josephine went on to explain the painting in great detail. She told him where she had found the portraitist, the sort of paint it was painted in, and what sort of brush he had used. Luke listened, forcing himself to smile.

At last, Josephine seemed satisfied. “Bye-bye for now, darling Luke. Until next time,” she said, and then she left.

Luke was left with the painting. He took another good look at it, then screwed up his face. “Blergh…” He styled himself as a chivalrous type, but this painting was a step too far. That was how bad it was.

“I’ll just hide it away in the back of the storeroom later… Or maybe…” 

He thought for a moment, then he took the painting home with him.

 Ariel 

THERE WERE A LOT OF perverts among the royalty and aristocracy of Asura. These were people who had everything—fame, riches, the lot. Anything an ordinary person might lust after could be theirs without effort, and so they developed degenerate tastes. It was said that nine of every ten aristocrats held covert fetishes.

Compared to the others, Ariel Anemoi Asura was known for being relatively ordinary. She did mess around sometimes, but that was perfectly vanilla. In fact, there were rumors that she only did it to blend in at the palace. Perhaps it was her appearance and her captivating voice that made people think that way. The truth was, Ariel was just like the others. 

That’s right, Ariel had her own unique tastes. Hers was a particularly unusual one. She liked to make a fool of herself in front of people. Some might have thought, Is that all? That sounds pretty normal. It was true that there were many others who enjoyed similar pursuits—so-called “exhibitionists.” But what Ariel liked wasn’t the exposure. For her, it was the moment of embarrassment as she heard the clatter of stacked objects coming crashing down that really titillated her. As she grew higher in rank and in people’s estimations, the pleasure it brought her only increased.

It was only pleasurable if she didn’t do it on purpose. Deliberately doing something embarrassing didn’t push any of her buttons. It only worked when some freak chance shattered the image of perfect Ariel the perfect princess. Because of this, she kept up her perfect act, taking care that no one ever caught on to her proclivities.

“What’s this?” One day, she noticed a strange object in a corner of her room. It was rectangular and wrapped in cloth. It looked like a painting. Without thinking anything of it, Ariel picked it up. Some people might wonder why she’d just pick up an item she had no recollection of, but when you were as important as Ariel, you received presents every other day, and as a rule, the contents were checked before being left in her room. Of course, even then, there were sometimes poisoned needles or the like hidden inside, so her safety was by no means guaranteed… But there were no poisoned needles today. Ariel managed to get a look at the item. 

There were no poisoned needles, but it was poison all the same.

“How awful…” Ariel gasped. The painting that emerged was of a character to make you question the morals of the possessor. “Who in the world… Is this some prank of Luke’s?” She examined the painting closely.

It was awful. Really awful. It would be mortifying if anyone so much as knew she had it. Just holding it like this made her hot and bothered. She imagined people thinking, Lady Ariel, with a thing like that!

“Ngh…!” A shiver went through her.

Ariel had a bad habit. She collected things that would get her in trouble if anyone saw them. Everything she collected was kept securely hidden, and then every now and then, she would think, If anyone ever found these, I’d be finished! Surrendering herself to the ecstasy of that thought was one of her few pleasures.

“I’d better hide this,” she said to herself. It wasn’t stealing. If you were royalty, you naturally assumed that everything in your room was yours. Indeed, nothing in that room did not belong to her—from the objects to the people. As such, she didn’t need permission to use or throw away anything left there—or to hide such a thing. 

“I’ll put it under the bed for now.” Ariel stashed the picture under her bed like a junior high school boy hiding porn magazines, then realized she needed to pee.

“Oops, perhaps I drank too much tea.”

There were some among the common folk who thought that Lady Ariel never used the toilet. Obviously, that was not the case. Ariel’s room had an adjoining toilet for her personal use. She headed to it now.

 Fitz 

SYLPHIE—OTHERWISE KNOWN AS FITZ—WAS Ariel’s bodyguard. Her job was to protect Ariel, and also to carry out the orders Ariel occasionally gave her. Today, the order had been to relay a little rumor to a certain high-ranking noble. She had carried it out without any trouble, then come back to the palace.

“Huh? Lady Ariel? And no Luke, either. I guess he’s not back yet…” Her ward was nowhere to be seen. “Is she in the toilet?” she wondered, looking over at the toilet door. Then, Fitz noticed something. “Huh?”

From under the bed, there was a piece of cloth poking out ever so slightly. She hadn’t seen it before. 

Silently, Fitz drew her staff. If an assassin were lying in wait, under the bed was a terrible hiding place. All the same, she couldn’t relax her guard. Taking care not to make a sound, she approached the bed. Her staff in one hand, she extended the other toward the cloth…then she yanked it out.

In the same instant, she pointed her mana-charged staff at it and shouted, “Don’t move!” Then she stopped short.

“What is this?” She had pulled out a flat object. Perhaps because she had tugged on it, the cloth had fallen away to reveal a fraction of what was inside. It seemed to be a painting.

“What’s a painting doing here…?” Fitz muttered to herself. Very carefully, she began to pull away the cloth. There might be poison needles concealed inside, she thought, handling it with caution. But there were no traps set on it, and she removed the cloth without any issue. 

There were no poisoned needles, but it was poison all the same.

“Bl…egh…” When Fitz saw the painting, she thought she would be sick. Her mind rebelled at the idea that such an awful thing could exist. 

“Eww, what is that… Hold on, it was under Lady Ariel’s bed. Does that mean…?” 

Everything that entered the room of a royal was their possession. No exceptions. So Fitz naturally understood that this belonged to Ariel.

Lady Ariel owns this…? Huh? It was under the bed—so was she hiding it? Huh? Surely not Lady Ariel? Huh? Huh?!

Fitz sat on the floor with feet behind her, holding the picture. Her head was spinning. From behind her, she heard a click.

“Ah!” She jumped and spun around, and there was Ariel Anemoi Asura. Her dear Ariel, the woman who had rescued her, who looked after her every need and yet called her not her servant or her slave, but her friend.

Ariel stared at Fitz, sitting there holding the painting with a vacant look in her eyes.

“So you saw it,” she said.

Fitz realized she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to. If her head had been a little clearer, she would have noticed the hint of a smile playing around the corners of Ariel’s mouth, but she was too shocked after the horror she’d seen.

Oh no! she thought. Her dear friend had tastes she could never accept. What should she say? What ought she to do? Should she act as though she hadn’t seen it, or should she spurn Ariel? Unable to work out an answer, Fitz froze up. 

Now, Fitz had a certain habit. 

Rudy… If Rudy were here, what would he do?! 

When she found herself in a tight spot, she liked to think about what her childhood friend Rudeus would have done. 

Rudy…Rudy would…! 

Her fetish was unconsciously wishing that he would come and save her.

What should I do? Rudy?!

But the Rudy in her mind said nothing. He just patted her on the shoulder with a warm smile on his twenty-percent-more-handsome face.

What do I do?! What?! Almost in tears, Sylphie could do nothing but watch as Ariel slowly came toward her.

 Rudeus 

JUST AS FITZ FOUND HERSELF in deep doo-doo, Rudeus made his own discovery. As he was cleaning the carriage, something came tumbling out of Ruijerd’s bag. It was an extremely obscene statue. It wasn’t like the figurines Rudeus liked—it looked more like a dogu clay doll. Yet concealed within it was such obscenity that even it made even Rudeus cringe. It was like the embodiment of the sin of lust itself. Rudeus couldn’t believe Ruijerd owned something like this. But it had come out of Ruijerd’s luggage, so it almost certainly belonged to him.

Rudeus picked up the statue and examined it closely. Then, he heard a noise behind him. Rudeus spun around and found himself face-to-face with Ruijerd.

“Something wrong?” Ruijerd asked.

“Um, no.” For a few seconds, Rudeus stood there frozen until, at last, the tension went out of him. He quietly returned the statue in his hand to where he’d found it, then turned back to Ruijerd. He had a creepily cheerful smile on his face. He kept it in place as he went over to Ruijerd and clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay. I get it,” he said. Then, he got out of the carriage and left.

Ruijerd was left with a question mark above his head, unable to work out what had just happened.

“What was that about?” he wondered.

It hardly needs to be said, but the statue was obviously not Ruijerd’s. It had already been in the carriage and had happened to get mixed up with his things. That was all.

“Oh, well,” Ruijerd said, promptly turning off his hovering question mark. He was used to Rudeus’s bursts of strange behavior.

“Phew…” Rudeus left the carriage, then looked up at the clear blue sky. “Different strokes for different folks, huh,” he said to himself, a sunny smile on his face. 

In fact, he had a certain habit. He tried to understand and accept everyone else’s tastes, no matter what they might be.

“Come to think of it, I wonder what Sylphie’s doing right now…” Sylphie’s happy face hovered, transparent, in the air before him.

Only the heavens know what Sylphie did next as she faced Ariel, fighting back tears. All that can be said for sure is that whatever it was, it did not damage their friendship.