My heart raced like I’d stumbled onto a treasure chest in a game. In my previous life, I had never seen one. But here she was, just like the stories—blonde hair that shimmered like sunlight on water, skin as smooth and pale as porcelain, and eyes that seemed to pierce through reality itself. She looked straight out of a fantasy novel. And gods help me, my mind went to… unholy places.
Her face. Her perfect, delicate, ethereal face. Pure. Untouched. Virgin-like. My brain short-circuited.
"Stop, Daryn!" I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
"I am better than this," I declared firmly. Then doubt crept in. Am I? I might be in better shape now, but my mindset? That hadn’t changed. A guy doesn’t go from lazy gamer to disciplined monk overnight, after all. Old habits die hard, and I wasn’t winning any awards for being a gentleman.
Still… she looked like she might be alone. Like me.
“Maybe she doesn’t have a party either,” I murmured, trying to rationalize my decision to approach her. Before I could overthink, my legs moved on their own and let my instinct take over.
Will she recognize me? that was in my thoughts in every step I took getting closer to her.
Maybe I can make her join my party when I complete to pay the fee. I had to act at that moment.
I jogged up to her, doing my best to act casual. “Hey, are you lost or something?” I asked, flashing what I hoped was a disarming smile.
She took a look at me, which was kind of weird the way she did.
"No, I’m just getting—"
Before she could finish, I impulsively put a finger to her lips.
"Shhh, don’t be so shy," I said, lowering my voice like some kind of suave protagonist. "You know, I’m an adventurer myself."
Her expression turned from startled to stone-cold, and she promptly grabbed my wrist, removing my finger like it was a piece of trash she didn’t want to touch.
"You smell bad." she said with a disgusted look, her tone sharper than a blade.
I froze, my face heating up as her words sunk in. Harsh. But fair.
This was bad. Real bad. But come on, she was the first female I’d interacted with in this world that wasn’t my sister or stepmother. And she was an elf. That was a whole new level of beauty. Beyond comprehension.
Then, out of the corner of my vision, something strange happened. A glowing box appeared, hovering like a notification in a game.
“What is this?” I muttered under my breath, reading the text.
[Title: Researcher Pervert Awakened: You have unlocked your latent perverted nature. Skills related to perversion will now level up faster.]
My jaw dropped. "What the hell?!"
Pachesko’s words came back to me—skills evolve through effort, and levels unlock their potential. This… was a title that makes my skills evolve with more ease, but based on the description, this was not the kind of progress I wanted. But apparently, fate had other plans.
Still flustered, I tried to distract myself by activating Eye of the curious, my analysis skill, on the elf. The usual boring details—name, description, category—flashed across my vision. But then, something new appeared at the bottom of the display.
[B: 80, W: 58, H: 83]
I read it aloud before my brain could catch up. "B… 80, W… 58, H… 83…?"
Her ears twitched, and her cheeks turned a fiery red. Her glare was as sharp as a dagger now, and I could feel the seething rage radiating off her.
“You’re a pervert!” she yelled, her voice echoing across the open space.
I didn’t even have time to defend myself before three figures rushed to her side.
“What’s wrong, Cantheris?!” demanded a young man holding a dagger, his expression all puffed up like he was some kind of hero.
Two more followed—another elf woman in white robes, likely a priest, and a blond female warrior with a sword strapped to her back. A full adventuring party. Just my luck.
Something struck me as I stared at the other elf. Another blonde.
Seriously, are all elves blonde? For a moment, I wondered if I’d confused them with the one from yesterday.
The one from yesterday had worn something more... I don’t know, formal? It was hard to see her in the dark, and her running actually did not help me to picture her in my mind.
These two now have like robes, more relaxed, though still carrying that aura of elven perfection.
“Oh…” Realizing I really messed up just because of my impulses.
Just as I was piecing together these observations, my thoughts were shattered by how the guy was so mellow and protective with their party. Rounding his arms to the girls.
“Who is this?” the dagger-wielding guy asked, glaring at me like I’d just insulted his whole bloodline.
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as I activated Eye of the curious again, scanning their categories. Thief, Wizard, Tank ,Healer. These people had everything I didn’t. A party, a purpose, probably a lot less dirt under their fingernails. Meanwhile, I will be sweating it out in a coal mine, surrounded by rough, burly men with nicknames like “Bunchy” and “Sorey.”
It really wasn’t fair.
I raised my hands defensively. “Hey, I was just trying to help—"
Cantheris cut me off, pointing an accusatory finger. “This dirty pervert tried to talk to me!”
The entire group stared at me like I was a goblin that had crawled out of a sewer.
Yep. This day was officially a disaster.
I Tried to run away, my face burning with embarrassment, tears threatening to fall. It was pathetic—being humiliated in front of an elf of all things. But I told myself it was fine. She’s not the only elf in this world. Somewhere out there, I’ll find my harem of elves. My destiny isn’t over yet.
Just as I started to make a break for it, a massive fireball exploded in front of me, cutting off my path. I stumbled backward, wide-eyed.
"You’re not going anywhere, pervert," the elf sneered, her staff glowing ominously.
I forced a nervous laugh, holding my hands up. "Hahaha... let’s talk about this!"
Desperate to salvage the situation, I tried explaining myself. To my surprise, they actually stopped glaring at me and seemed to listen.
"So you’re just a loser," the young man with the dagger said bluntly after hearing my story, a smirk tugging at his lips.
His words hit like a gut punch, but I knew I didn’t have the upper hand here. “No,” I mumbled, “I’m just a coal mine worker, that’s all.”
He looked me over, sizing me up.
“You seem honest enough. Fine.”
“Wow thanks, how did you notice I was telling the truth?”
“Your smell” His swords again like a cannon ball hitting the gut, but he was not wrong.
“My friends call me Colt. And you?”
“Daryn,” I answered, trying to sound confident.
The two girls behind him immediately burst into laughter, like my name was the punchline to a joke I didn’t understand.
“Well, Daryn,” Colt said with a mocking grin, “Thanks for wasting our time. Next time do not do weird stuff or you will end up actually dead. We’re leaving.”
“I see. Off to the dungeon?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation to something neutral.
“Oh, poor coal miner,” Colt said, his face dripping with condescension.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“There’s more than one way to get what you need, idiot,” he said smugly. “Like caves. We’re heading to the north Tame Cave to find the Sword of the geology Curse. It’s a legendary weapon left by a powerful warrior in his final resting place. It'll boost our levels.”
I raised an eyebrow. "So... you’re taking a shortcut to power?”
“Shortcut?!” he snapped, his pride clearly pricked. “It’s a strategy, and it’s perfectly legal.”
I couldn’t help but shake my head. “A shortcut is still a shortcut. Pardon me for meddling, but your face screams desperation. Instead of earning real experience in a dungeon, you’re going for some cheap, overpowered sword to skip the hard work.”
Colt’s face darkened, his cocky smirk vanishing. "And what do you know? You’re just a dirty pervert miner."
I stepped forward, holding my ground. “Maybe, but I’m still better than you in many ways.”
“Oh, yeah?” Colt growled, drawing his dagger. He twirled it, trying to look intimidating. “Let’s see how good you really are.”
“Don’t try it,” I warned, my voice steady. “It’ll be useless.”
He lunged at me, his dagger slicing through the air. But his movements were predictable—sloppy. I sidestepped easily, swept his legs out from under him, and sent him crashing to the ground. The impact made him groan as his teammates gasped.
"That," I said, standing tall, "is the difference between us."
Colt scrambled to his feet, his face red with humiliation. “Enjoy your stupid mine, loser!” he spat, storming off with his group.
As they left, I noticed the elf—Cantheris, they called her—glancing back at me. It was fleeting, just a quick look, but it lingered enough to catch my attention. Our eyes met for a moment, and I swear there was something there—curiosity, maybe even intrigue.
But before I could make sense of it, she turned away, dismissing me like I was nothing. Typical.
I sighed, watching them disappear into the distance. "Yeah, good luck with your sword," I muttered to myself. Some adventurers they are.
"Where am I going to sleep tonight?" I muttered under my breath, kicking a stray pebble down the dusty path. The idea of curling up under the bridge again didn’t exactly thrill me, but options were limited.
"If I camp around here...?" I trailed off, my eyes scanning the deserted area. It wasn’t the worst idea—at least I’d be close to work and wouldn’t have to drag myself half-asleep in the morning. Convenience over comfort, right?
"Should I tell Pachesko about it?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, though I doubted it mattered. Pachesko had a way of showing up when he wanted, like some phantom with impeccable timing. Whether he was at the bridge or somewhere else, he’d turn up if it suited him. I didn’t mind either way.
"Decided then." I squared my shoulders, determined to make the best of it. "I’ll camp around here."
----------------------------------------
Bryndisa:
The rest of the afternoon was spent searching for the most comfortable spot this deserted stretch could offer—not that there was much to work with. No results though.
As I walked down the road, lost in thought, the distant rumble of an approaching truck broke my focus. It slowed down, and the window rolled down to reveal familiar faces—Sorey and Bunchy.
"Hey, you two!" I called out with a wave.
"Sup, Slimmy!" Sorey greeted, grinning. "Shift’s over. We noticed you moping around. Wanna hang out?"
"Yeah, why not," I said, climbing into their truck. The interior smelled like grease and something faintly burnt, but it was a step up from the open road.
As we drove, the conversation took a grim turn, with the two recounting the dark stories of the mines—workers dying from toxic fumes, getting lost in the labyrinthine tunnels, or suffering fatal internal injuries.
"What? You guys are messing with me, right?" I asked, half-joking, though their straight faces didn’t inspire confidence.
"Hahaha, Slimmy, we ain’t joking," Sorey said, slapping his knee. "It’s scary as hell down there. Honestly, we’re amazed a young’un like you even signed up. Last kid your age barely made it a week!"
"Death’s inevitable," Bunchy added nonchalantly between bites of a hamburger, crumbs catching in his stubbly beard. "Might as well work your ass off, earn your pay, and enjoy your food while you can."
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
I watched as he tore into his burger like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His carefree attitude was oddly comforting in a way.
"So, Slimmy," Sorey asked, leaning back in his seat, "what made you sign up for a real man’s job?"
"The money, of course," I replied, leaning forward slightly, trying to match their laid-back tone.
"Good answer," Bunchy said with a nod. Then, with a smirk, he added, "But what’re you gonna do with your money?"
"Spend it on women," I said with mock bravado, puffing out my chest for effect.
Both of them burst out laughing.
"Oh, we got ourselves a big boy here!" Sorey said, nudging Bunchy with his elbow. "Already thinking about women when you can’t even clean your own damn boots!"
"Hey!" I protested, looking down at my mud-caked boots. Okay, fair point, but still.
"You got a long way to go, Slimmy," Bunchy said, his voice lighter this time. "But stick around, and maybe we’ll make a real miner outta you."
Their laughter filled the truck as we drove into the night. It wasn’t much, but the thrust they gave me seemed legit, it felt good to have people around, even if they teased me relentlessly.
As we stop in a tavern we decide to follow up with drinks
"I just got my paycheck, so I’ll treat you both!" Sorey announced with a grin, feeling unusually generous.
"You paying? That means I can finally stop gaining weight!" Bunchy burst out laughing, his belly jiggling as he clapped his hands.
"Maybe I should quit and just eat like you, huh?" Sorey chuckled, giving me a wink. "But hey, we gotta treat the rookie right. Keep him happy before he decides to bail on us."
"I’m not quitting," I said firmly, but the warmth in their teasing made me smile despite myself.
"So, Slimmy," Bunchy said through a mouthful of yet another hamburger. I had no idea where he kept pulling those from. "What kind of beer do you like? Dark? Light?"
"Uh… I don’t drink beer," I said awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck.
"Don’t be such a wuss, Slimmy," Sorey said, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Sorry, but—"
"You’re an adult the moment you sign up for this job," bunchy cut in. "Order what you want, and if you feel bad about it, just thank Sorey sore arms later."
I hesitated, remembering my past life. I’d tried a beer once, but I was alone, and it didn’t feel special. Maybe it was different when shared with people like this. "Well… if you guys insist, why not?"
They cheered and ordered three dark beers. The taste was awful—bitter and sharp—but somehow, in this rowdy little tavern, the mood made it bearable.
"Don't be a slowpoke, Slimmy! Look at Bunchy—he’s drinking like a champ!" Sorey exclaimed, pointing at bunchy downing his tankard in one impressive gulp, slamming it on the table with a satisfied grin.
Not wanting to be left behind, I tried to keep up, lifting my drink and gulping it down as fast as I could. Meanwhile, Sorey had already flagged down the barkeep, ordering another round with a hearty laugh.
As I sipped my second drink, my eyes wandered around the room, landing on a group of women laughing together near the bar. My heart skipped a beat. They were stunning.
"Careful there, Slimmy," Sorey warned with a smirk. "Those women are way outta your league."
"Hah? Don’t tell me what to do, Sorey," I shot back, feeling a buzz from the beer. "Just because you don’t have the balls doesn’t mean I don’t!"
Sorey’s face darkened for a moment, but Bunchy waved him off, still munching. "Chill, guys. They’re just women. You can’t eat women, you know."
"Yes, you can," Sorey grumbled, his mood souring.
"Alright then," Sorey said, sitting back with a challenging look. "Go on, Slimmy. Show us how a real man treats a lady."
Fueled by the beer and their teasing, I stood up, wobbling slightly but determined.
"This is gonna be good," Bunchy muttered, taking another bite of his seemingly endless burger.
"They’re gonna eat him alive," Sorey said with a resigned sigh, shaking his head.
"I know," Bunchy replied with a chuckle.
As I stumbled toward the group of women, nerves and liquid courage battled for dominance in my chest. This was either going to be a night to remember—or one to forget.
I walked toward the group of three women, trying to steady myself despite the alcohol buzzing through my veins. From where I was sitting, they had looked petite and elegant—manageable, I’d thought. But as I got closer, reality hit me like a runaway cart.
These women were huge. Easily two meters tall, each of them, and their silver "clothes" weren’t delicate at all—they were battle-worn armor. Every step closer made my confidence shrink. The two on the sides glanced at me with raised brows, their sharp eyes making me feel like prey. The one in the middle, thankfully, hadn’t even noticed me.
I could feel the laughter of Bunchy and Sorey burning into the back of my neck. Their silent mockery fueled me, spurring me forward. If I backed out now, my pride as a man in this new world would be shattered into pieces.
Still, there were three of them. And they were massive. I needed to act fast—before their presence completely sobered me up.
I slid onto a barstool near them, trying to project an air of calm confidence. My nerves screamed otherwise. With the manliest voice I could muster, I leaned toward the bartender.
“Give me a rock with ice,” I said, my tone low and gravelly.
The words sounded ridiculous the moment they left my mouth. My face burned as I realized my mistake. That’s what my dad used to say when he had visitors over in my previous life. This was not the same context.
The bartender blinked at me, clearly puzzled. “Excuse me?”
Thank the gods he didn’t hear me clearly. I swallowed hard, doubling down on my courage.
“I said… I want a whiskey on the rocks.” I tried to sound confident, but my voice cracked slightly at the end.
The bartender looked me over, his face twisting in disbelief. I could feel the weight of the women’s stares on my back now. They had to be judging me. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around.
“Kids aren’t allowed in bars,” the bartender said flatly, his tone laced with suspicion.
“I’m not a kid!” I snapped, louder than I intended. “I’m a young man!” My voice cracked again, betraying me further.
The bartender flinched, looking mildly alarmed. “Uh… sure,” he said, clearly deciding I wasn’t worth the trouble. “One whiskey on the rocks coming up.”
As he turned to pour the drink, I exhaled deeply, realizing I’d been holding my breath. I could still hear Bunchy and Sorey cackling in the distance. The tension in my shoulders eased slightly, though I refused to look at the three women.
I took the drink right away, now.
Which of them should I take with me, well the better sizes win.
Obviously the one sitting in the middle, if I would be rejected at least I tried with the best woman.
I feel the whiskey acting on fast, I am happy since this is giving me courage
As I approached, the two girls flanking the one in the middle immediately noticed me. Their gazes were sharp and unwelcoming, the kind of look that said, Turn around before you embarrass yourself. But retreating wasn’t an option.
How could I expect to win over a woman’s attention if I couldn’t even handle walking up to her?
“Hobo, you should get out of here,” one of them said, her tone cutting like a blade.
Her words didn’t offend me, but they hit something deeper—my pride. That’s when I remembered… I wasn’t exactly in my best state. After days of being without a home, I probably smelled like an abandoned chimney.
Despite this, I kept my ground.
“I’m not a hobo,” I said, breathing deeply to steady myself. “I’m here for your friend.”
The words rolled out before I could overthink them.
The two girls on the sides stiffened, their expressions sharpening like they were ready to kick me out themselves. But my eyes stayed fixed on the one in the middle, the one who hadn’t spoken yet.
The woman in the middle finally turned her face toward me, her expression bored and indifferent. It was clear she hadn’t taken me seriously until now, only reacting because of her friends' annoyed muttering.
Slightly taller than her companions, towering over them with a commanding presence. Her physique screamed "warrior"—broad shoulders, muscular arms, and legs that looked like they could crush boulders. She was built for battle, ready to face any enemy head-on.
But it was her hair that threw me off—pink, of all colors. Soft, delicate, and almost playful, it clashed beautifully with the deadly aura she exuded. With Red band holding her long hair into a medium size to her shoulders.
And then there was the armor.
If you could even call it that.
Her chest plate seemed to be defying the laws of physics, barely containing two massive mangoes that somehow didn’t spill out with every move she made. I found myself staring, trying to understand how they stayed in place while she exuded such confidence. My gaze dropped lower—because how could it not?—to her thighs, exposed just enough between intricately crafted plates of armor to leave nothing and everything to the imagination. The curve of muscle and the hint of skin caught the flickering light, a sight both intimidating and... distracting.
I swallowed hard, trying not to let my brain short-circuit, but who was I kidding? My thoughts were far from noble. This woman didn’t just look like she could destroy you in combat—she looked like she could destroy your soul, and you’d thank her for it.
“She’s… pretty,” I said, louder this time, my voice wavering just enough to feel the heat rising in my face.
For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The noise of the bar faded as I watched her reaction. Her expression shifted slightly, her disinterested gaze flickering into something else.
She blinked, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. Then, to my surprise, she tilted her head and asked, “Huh?”
Her fingers brushed through her hair, an unconscious gesture. Her voice, soft and a little flustered, came next.
“Me? You’re talking about me?”
She was playing with her hair now, a nervous energy radiating from her. Her towering height and intimidating presence couldn’t hide the fact that, in this moment, she wasn’t a fearsome warrior. She was just… a girl.
I stood there, caught between relief and disbelief, realizing I had somehow stumbled into the kind of moment most guys only dreamed of.
"Yes."
One of the other woman immediately drew her sword, the blade stopping just short of my neck.
"Do you think this is a game, hobo?" she snapped. "Don’t you know who she is?"
"Uh… no?" I replied, not daring to move.
"She’s Bryndisa, a golden-badge warrior! Not just any golden-badge, mind you—she’s the one who defeated the Hydra in the muddy swamps of the Valley of Red."
A what now? Hydra? Swamp? Valley? I had no idea what any of that meant, but "golden-badge" sounded important, and her presence certainly made it believable.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I activated Eye of the curious to check her basic info.
Name: Bryndisa
Category: Warrior
Description: A fierce warrior known for smashing and splashing enemies with raw, brute strength.
B: 120, W: 65, H: 96.
Wait, did it seriously just tell me her measurements again? This skill was broken.
"And… what’s a warrior, exactly?" I asked, locking eyes with her and ignoring the blade still near my throat. "I’m not an adventurer, so I don’t really know much about classes."
“Ms. Bryndisa can’t tell her class to a hobo like you,” one of them said, sticking out their tongue at me mockingly.
Bryndisa coughed, clearly trying to maintain her composure after my awkward question.
"My class is…," she began, her voice firm but tinged with a hint of pride. "I can wield many types of weapons—though I don’t ‘master’ any one of them. My specialty is brute strength."
To emphasize her point, she flexed her arm. Her muscles rippled under the silver plating of her armor, and for a moment, I was mesmerized.
This wasn’t just any warrior. This was a war tank with the charm of a goddess.
"So, wanna dance?" I asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.
Bryndisa tilted her head and smiled faintly. "I can't. I'm with my friends."
She didn’t seem to be lying, but I wasn’t about to let the conversation slip away.
"I didn’t introduce myself yet," I said, extending my hand. "I’m Daryn. Nice to meet you."
She hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Bryndisa."
I took a seat again, letting the tension ease a little. "Then I’ll just sit here and enjoy my whiskey."
Her eyebrows rose slightly, and her lips curled into a small grin.
“Oh, you drink whiskey?"
"Of course," I said, deepening my voice for effect. "Because I’m a man."
The bartender approached their group with three frosty mugs of beer. "Sorry for the delay, ladies. It took a bit to find the specific brew you asked for. It’s been in storage for a while. I’ve got the bottle if you need refills."
Bryndisa glanced at my now-empty whiskey glass and then at me. "You’re all out, huh? Before you order another, how about joining us instead?"
She raised her hand to the bartender. "Another beer for this guy. Put it on my tab."
The two women flanking her protested immediately. "Miss Bryndisa!"
She waved them off, her expression playfully exasperated. "Lynda, Berris, stop with the 'Miss.' You're making me feel old. What would Daryn think?"
Lynda seemed to be the slimmest of the three, yet her athletic build is still noticeable. Her short, golden hair framed a confident expression, and the bow on her back marked her as a skilled archer. I could tell her armor was designed for agility, making her a formidable warrior.
Berris, on the other hand, had a sturdier, more imposing frame. Her short, dark hair and earrings,in the nose and ears making look like a bandit instead, and the sword she carried was clearly meant for close combat. My skill identified her as a tank, and her heavy, reinforced armor was all the proof I needed to confirm it.
"I think I’ll take the offer," I said with a grin. "Thanks, Bryndisa."
Bryndisa laughed heartily, standing up to pull her chair next to mine. As she sat down, she clapped me on the back with enough force to knock the air out of my lungs. For a moment, I thought my organs had shifted positions.
"Cheers!" she said, raising her oversized beer mug like a battle flag.
I raised my new mug, clinking it with hers. The beer was lighter than the dark brew Bunchy and Sorey had forced on me earlier, and it was surprisingly smooth.
As we drank, I couldn’t help but glance toward my so-called comrades. Bunchy and Sorey were staring from across the tavern, their expressions shifting from amused disbelief to outright shock.
Their faces practically screamed, How is Slimmy pulling this off?!
I couldn’t help but smirk. Tonight, I wasn’t just a boy. Tonight, I was the man who is having a beer with Bryndisa, the golden-badge warrior who defeated a hydra.
We kept drinking, and every time I thought it was over, Bryndisa would order another round. Two pairs of beer mugs slammed onto the bar each time, her energy seemingly endless.
"Damn," I muttered, barely managing to finish my second cup. "This girl doesn’t know what ‘enough’ means."
She looked at me, surprised, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol. "You’re tapping out already?"
I chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I think I’ve hit my limit."
Bryndisa leaned back, sizing me up. "So, tell me—who are you, Daryn? What’s your story?"
"I’m a miner," I replied simply.
"A miner?" she repeated, tilting her head. "Oh! You’re one of those guys who pulls rocks out of the ground, right?"
"Yeah, something like that. It’s tough, but the pay’s worth it."
She nodded thoughtfully, swirling her beer. "Ever thought about becoming an adventurer?"
"Yeah, but I’ve got to save up for the adventurer’s permit first. That stuff isn’t cheap."
Bryndisa frowned, then suddenly slammed a pouch of gold coins onto the counter. "Don’t worry about it! I’ll pay your fee!"
My jaw practically hit the floor. That pouch looked like it could fund my entire life for the next year. My dad’s words echoed in my mind: The capital is for the golden people.
"I… I can’t accept this," I said, shaking my head. "It wouldn’t feel right. You’re drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness."
Her lips curled into a warm smile. "It’s not charity, Daryn. If you’re worried about that, how about this: join my party. You’ll pay me back with your strength."
Her words carried a lightness, a generosity that felt genuine. Still, I hesitated. Could I really let myself take this shortcut?
“Miss Bryndisa you can’t take anyone to the deep levels of the dungeon, we are not babysitters” Berris exclaimed, her voice booming with opposition
"She is right," I said firmly. "Thank you, but I have to do this on my own. I can’t just take the easy way out."
Her face softened as she raised her mug. "A gentleman, huh? I respect that. A real man starts with his mindset. Once you’ve got that, you can achieve anything."
She took another long swig, her cheeks now visibly red. Her laughter grew louder, and then—she started tugging at her armor.
"Ugh, it’s so hot in here, isn’t it?"
My brain short-circuited as she undid the front clasp of her chest plate. The heavy, rounded shapes that sprang forward were impossible to ignore. Perfectly firm, yet undeniably soft-looking. I cursed gravity and physics for conspiring to make this moment so painfully perfect.
"Ms. Bryndisa, please! Don’t strip in the tavern!" Lynda exclaimed in a high pitch embarrassment tone.
"Oh, I forgot!" she laughed, her voice hearty and carefree. "Sorry about that!"
I felt so hot, then my head was spinning and without noticing I faded out.