283 Struggled
Unfathomable.
Why did I struggle, yet end up being struggled against?
Incomprehensible.
Feels like glimpsing the mysteries of this world.
Please calm down, I'm serious, please, my lord demon.
That’s right.
Talking about the chest is forbidden in front of the demon lord.
Likely also height.
Because I’m small.
Saying it aloud would be a death sentence.
I’m too afraid to say it out loud.
Well, I’ll recover soon regardless, but the demon lord’s eyes back then—unbearably terrifying.
Those eyes looked like they belonged in a horror manga.
Terrible, terrible.
Those eyes had already killed people.
Ah, the demon lord’s title—something like “Slayer of Humanity,” wasn’t it?
Definitely a killer.
Damn it.
The Demon Lord told me to refrain from seeking revenge against the breast alien. Where, then, am I to direct this pent-up fury?
“Hii!?”
Sacrifice located.
Today’s sacrifice: the well-known Vampire Child.
Let us hear the current state of mind.
“Monkey! I don’t want to be a monkey anymore!”
The Vampire Child screams, fleeing upon seeing a human face.
Impertinent creature.
Think you can escape me?
Immediately catches the fleeing Vampire Child.
Grabs the back of the neck, halting escape.
Still attempts to move—falls hard, tumbling onto its back.
Hmm.
Looking down at the Vampire Child, flailing wildly on its back.
This one is large too.
Not specifying where, but definitely larger than me.
Should I swallow?
“Hiiii! What?! What is this?!”
The Vampire Child squirms and cries, as if sensing unease.
No, don’t cry at your age.
Is this child regressing into infantile behavior?
Is this even stable?
“What are you doing?”
Fermine approaches, having heard the Vampire Child’s cries.
She pauses. Immediately, she snorts through her nose upon seeing the child’s disheveled state.
O-oh.
A sharp, contemptuous gaze locks onto the Vampire Child.
“Nothing at all.”
Pride, barely clinging, reasserts itself. The previous chaos vanishes as if erased—suddenly upright.
Yet still, the child remains gripped by the neck. The posture is absurd. Clumsy. Like a mannequin.
Fermine laughs again. The child’s face flushes crimson.
You two get along well.
"Um. What is this situation?"
Another new guest arrived.
Oni-kun and Mel.
A rare combination, I thought. But then again, the two of them do need to coordinate on various matters during the regiment reorganization. It's not surprising they're meeting.
Unlike other regiments, there's no large-scale replacement in Oni-kun's and Mel's units. Still, minor adjustments are required.
The Vampire Child, exposed in front of Mel—the servant—flushed crimson and struggled violently.
I did not release my grip on the back of its neck.
I observed the Vampire Child's humiliation for a moment.
Ah, this utterly unexplainable foolishness is oddly soothing.
"Shiro-sama. The young lady is suffering."
Mel spoke up, unable to watch further.
Looking closer, the flushed face was gradually turning blue.
The Vampire Child was struggling with surprising intensity, so my holding onto its neck with moderate force probably wasn't the best idea.
Despite gripping from behind, I’d apparently stopped airflow and blood circulation.
Continuing to hold it would likely not result in death, but something unpleasant seemed likely, so I released it reluctantly.
Suddenly freed from the shrimp-like posture, the Vampire Child naturally fell to the ground under gravity.
Headfirst impact—produced a solid thud.
Lying flat on its back, the Vampire Child blinked with teary eyes.
Dangerous. Extremely entertaining.
The three who witnessed me tormenting the Vampire Child reacted in three different ways.
Fermiina maintained a smug expression, yet her cheeks twitched slightly.
Seemed to be internally terrified—worried she might one day become the target of such treatment herself.
It’s fine, it’s fine.
Not doing it, not doing it—probably, likely, not going to happen, I suppose.
Oni-kun looks utterly speechless, expression caught between disbelief and exasperation.
Yet in that gaze, a clear intent to reproach me can be read.
Yes, that’s what you’re trying to say—don’t do things people hate.
It’s fine, it’s fine.
Keep conditioning, and one day bullying will become pleasure—spice it up with a devilish erotic game flavor, I try to say.
In truth, Vampire Child—whether S or M—probably leans M.
Mera stands expressionless, yet her face carries the warmth of a nursery caregiver watching children play.
Guardian.
That’s right—guardian.
Mera, Mera?
This child has grown rather disappointingly, but maintaining this gentle, watchful stance—should that be acceptable?
No, I’m the one who exposed her in shame—but still…
The Vampire Child rose slowly, brushing dust from their clothing.
Clearing their throat with deliberate exaggeration, they turned back with a composed expression.
"Master, if you have business, speak plainly rather than acting this way."
A figure who had just fled at the sight of a person now speaks as if nothing happened.
They pretend the earlier disgrace never occurred.
Though, most of it was witnessed by everyone present here.
Still, business. Business, yes.
In fact, this performance itself created the need.
A hand lands on the Vampire Child’s shoulder.
Then, transfer.
Arrival point: the room of Natsume.
"...Master, if you have business, speak first before acting."
The Vampire Child mutters something, ignored.
The two already in the room turn toward the speaker upon hearing the voice.
One is Natsume, the room's owner.
The other is the younger sister.
Yet another figure sits in a chair within this room.
That figure gazes into emptiness with vacant eyes.
That figure is the designated successor to the next Saint, Miss Hasebe.
Yes.
A pawn of the Divine Word Church has been touched.
The face of the Pope surfaces in memory.
Looks like I’ve gone too far.