Chapter 82: The Negative Consequences of Cuck

Vesalius, Main Control Room. A young, green-clad soldier shivered beneath the cold silver mask of Commander Creuset.

Aifer was a rookie S-class pilot newly assigned to the Zeon Vengeance. Since all communications with the Vesalius had inexplicably failed, he and his machine—the Aifer Unit (just a basic Zaku)—had been sent to Creuset’s team to deliver a report.

Of course, sending him was also a convenient way to throw a scapegoat into the mix, especially after he’d talked back to a superior at the mess hall a few days before...

“Commander Creuset, now that a traitor has gone to inform the Talllegs, do we really proceed with the plan?” Ardis, the Vesalius’ captain with heavy brows and narrow eyes, voiced his concerns and shot Aifer a glare so intense the boy nearly wet himself.

It wasn’t his fault the intel had been delayed.

“Calculate for me: how long will it take that half-baked pilot to reach the Talllegs?” Creuset ignored the question entirely, instead posing a confounding one of his own.

Commanders simply give orders; it’s the grunts who run themselves ragged.

It wasn’t a big deal...

“About twenty-seven minutes... subtracting the five minutes and twenty-four seconds lost to the intel delay, the Talllegs isn’t headed for the lunar base, but for the Alaska base on Earth. Half the Eighth Fleet has already landed, there are three G-units, five Zakus, the Outsider Team’s giant A-unit, and several S-types...” After hearing the report, Creuset began scribbling calculations on the electronic screen.

“In fifty-five minutes, we execute the plan!” Creuset declared with finality, and the entire crew snapped into battle readiness.

“Brilliant tactician Barhaton, it’s time for you to exit the stage of history.” Whatever expression hid beneath the mask, no one could say.

Forgotten by all, Aifer stood alone, saluting in silence.

Archangel, Prison Block.

Out of sight, out of mind; Yzak simply buried himself beneath his blanket.

Meanwhile, Hao Ren’s conversation continued.

“Nothing much. Do you know how many P-points that blind duck spent to summon you? And did he help boost your skills?” Hao Ren leaned away from Orihime, smiling as he repeated his earlier query, utterly ignoring the awkward closeness.

Was this really Hao Ren? Did he suddenly discover emotional intelligence?

“I’m not certain about the cost of the summoning,” Orihime replied, struggling to suppress her embarrassment. “Our previous master found us uncooperative, so Lord Balance Fox and I were locked in a spatial stone, only released recently. As for skill upgrades, that was impossible.”

“Then, where were you summoned? Or, what was it like around you when you were called forth?”

“The sky looked as if it were shrouded in white, and there were many people around, along with machines like those at amusement centers.”

“That’s it!” Hao Ren clapped his hands in excitement.

A white sky, lots of people, an amusement park—most likely it was the same capsule vending machine he’d used to get the black cat.

Which meant...

“Player Black Flame Dragon has paid a certain price to submit a [NTR] request for you. If you accept, you will become Black Flame Dragon’s summoned creature, and your contract with Blind Duck will be terminated. Regardless of your choice, the price paid by Black Flame Dragon will not be refunded. Will you accept?”

A string of notifications from the Main Brain flooded the minds of both Hiiragi and Orihime, waking Hiiragi in the process.

Coming from the world of anime, Orihime clearly understood the term [NTR], her expression twisted in anguish. The look she gave Hao Ren seemed to ask, “Just how many wives have you stolen?”

Hao Ren shook his head, spread his hands, and revealed his hidden talent attributes, wearing an expression that said, “Blame the Main Brain for naming it something so misleading.”

Whether truly innocent or feigning naivety, Hiiragi accepted the NTR contract without hesitation, snatched the Wish Balance from Hao Ren’s hands, and promptly curled up in his embrace.

So fluffy...

Orihime held her forehead, feeling powerless against her lord’s rashness, but considering she herself was still pressed to Hao Ren’s side, she hardly had room to judge. Besides, this new master left a good impression.

Orihime accepted as well.

Commander Blind Duck of the Zeon Vengeance had just struggled free of a resilient spiderweb when he was struck by a wave of utter despair, as if someone had just jammed a dung-smeared stick into his mouth.

“Player [Blind Duck], your summoned creatures, Balance Fox Hiiragi and Lady Spider Orihime, have been forcibly NTR’d by player [Black Flame Dragon]’s ability. Your contract is terminated. You have gained the passive effect [NTR’s Vengeance]. In the next forced instance, you may track [Black Flame Dragon]. Upon entering the same instance, every 30 minutes you will receive [Black Flame Dragon]'s coordinates, and upon encounter, their name will appear over their head, visible only to you, and cannot be hidden. This passive may only be used once, and only in the next forced instance; it will expire after that.” The Main Brain delivered its fatal blow.

Black. Flame. Dragon!

Each word spat out with trembling fury, the NTR rage in Blind Duck’s voice needed no further explanation.

True, Hiiragi and Orihime had never so much as touched him, so the NTR was in name only. Still, for a man, having one’s peerless beauties snatched away in such baffling fashion was enough to make anyone’s blood boil.

“Get me in touch with Phoenix Seeker. I want her to destroy the Archangel, no matter the cost.”

Whether Black Flame Dragon was actually aboard the Archangel, Blind Duck didn’t know, but it was the only target he had, and someone had to pay.

Again, commanders speak, grunts run until their legs break. His remaining four subordinates scattered at once, vanishing like frightened birds.

Tasks as technically hazardous as offending the boss are best left to the unlucky.

Six P-points—the price paid for this NTR. Hao Ren’s account was now gloriously down to a single digit. Somehow, the [Golden Rule] seemed to have availed him nothing.

“Achoo!” Sayaka, poring over official documents, let out a tremendous sneeze.

“Sayaka, are you catching a cold? I’ll go get some herbs from Sister Shizuka.” With nothing better to do, Shelly shattered the office window with a single punch, vaulted out, and dashed toward Tia Yu’s workshop, where Shizuka worked in the second basement.

“Great, another expense for the ledgers,” Sayaka sighed, letting her hand fall limply to the desk.

Pedestrians suffered each time this human she-dinosaur rampaged through the streets; every parade of hers cost the city tens of thousands of mira in damages.

“Traffic? Pedestrians? What are those? Any obstacle before me except my master shall be destroyed!” This literal she-dinosaur spent her leisure time reading nothing but knight princess novels.

Shizuka was the true culprit.

“Achoo!” Shizuka, caught off guard by a sneeze, contaminated every uncovered cell culture dish in her lab.

Having forgotten her mask, Shizuka instantly plunged into a state worse than death.