14.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Dezeb asked.

Erable awkwardly smiled.

“It’s fine.”

Facing one of the most dangerous men in the world, there wasn’t much Erable could do besides smile. Compared to Dezeb, the head of the 59th Division was nothing.

In fact, she was planning to increase her dealings with the 59th soon. After all, she was preparing for the inevitable—being sent to the conflict zone. Better to stock up while she could.

As if nothing was amiss, the very source of her need to prepare pushed another bowl of oatmeal toward her.

“I hear the quality over there isn’t that great.”

Erable couldn’t argue with that. The dogs of the 41st were a massive underground enterprise, while the 59th was barely a street vendor in comparison. She could only smile awkwardly again, with no appropriate response.

“Keep talking while you eat. When did you start dealing with them?”

Resigned, Erable shoveled more of the oatmeal into her mouth, even though it tasted like bland mucus for the second day in a row.

“It’s been about six months.”

The oatmeal wasn’t getting any better, but there wasn’t much else she could say. She knew Dezeb wasn’t asking out of genuine curiosity.

Still, he had asked, and she had no other option but to answer.

Sooner or later, he’d find out anyway—whether she’d be sent to the conflict zone or the research lab.

Resigned to her fate, she endured a few more days like this.

＊ ＊ ＊

“So, what movie are we watching today?”

For the past few days, Erable had been coming home from work almost every evening with Dezeb. They would have dinner together and watch horror movies, among other things. They even shared household chores.

Laundry for two people, cleaning, taking out the trash, grocery shopping—everything.

Dezeb Avganis, it turned out, was surprisingly good at household chores. He was so physically adept that tasks like these seemed effortless for him.

Add in his industrious nature, and Erable’s place was now in the best shape it had ever been since she enlisted.

Over time, Erable even got used to seeing Dezeb rummaging through the refrigerator late at night. At least, she no longer felt the need to faint at the sight.

And that… was the problem.

＊ ＊ ＊

“Shall we get started?”

It was an ordinary evening.

Erable had grown accustomed to early workdays without overtime, and she felt physically better for it. Of course, it could also have been thanks to the lack of alcohol and the constant oatmeal, though she didn’t want to admit it.

After eating a proper meal for once, she had just finished some remaining work she had brought home and was getting advice from Dezeb on a new license for an auxiliary line when she heard his casual words.

“…Sorry?”

She asked, blinking up at him, confused.

“I mean, our *relationship*, lieutenant.”

“Pardon…?”

“You look surprised. Why? It’s normal for a man and woman who’ve been living together for days to do this, right?”

It was *not* normal. Even if they had been in a group, it would be strange—but it was the nonchalant way he spoke that was even more alarming.

He spoke as though he was suggesting something as simple as what to have for dinner. Perhaps, for him, a night together was even less important than a meal, but to someone inexperienced like Erable, it was nothing short of shocking.

“Do you not want to?”

He asked the question casually, almost offhandedly.

“N-no, it’s not that!”

Erable blurted out instinctively.

The moment she said it, she regretted it. But it was the truth. Refusing would only make things worse. He could toss her to the dogs.

And if that happened, she’d be stuck on the path laid out by the original novel.

Erable still had no idea how she had ended up on the novel’s path in the first place, but as someone who wasn’t even a main character, she didn’t expect to have a better fate than the protagonist or the other extras.

Refusal wasn’t even an option. If she wanted him to at least maintain his civilized facade, doing as he asked was the best course.

“…No, it’s not.”

Erable clasped her trembling hands together tightly.

“Good. Then we’ll do it tomorrow. If we rush it, you might faint. For now, just eat well and get some rest.”

“…Y-yes, sir.”

Dezeb spoke as if it were no big deal. And honestly, in this world, it wasn’t.

In a society where relationships were encouraged due to the noise generated by the Signum, relationships were just another routine part of life, like clockwork.

As Lieutenant Camellia had told her before, the sky wouldn’t fall, and the earth wouldn’t collapse. It was no big deal.

“Oh, by the way, I’m planning to increase the shipment to Molincy by about 17%. Slowly but surely. Are you listening, lieutenant?”

“Yes, yes, I’m listening….”

Of course, she wasn’t really listening. Her mind had gone blank. The world around her was spinning.

＊ ＊ ＊

[Are you out of your mind?]

Erable froze at the sight of her furious superior, Kancher, glaring at her through the tablet screen.

[Or can you not read numbers?]

Kancher had requested a personal shield spell disc, model 28bx, but Erable had only sent two boxes. It was an error she hadn’t made since her rookie days.

“I’m sorry.”

[Do I really have to make phone calls for every little thing?]

“No, sir. I’m really sorry. I’ll fix it right away.”

Sorry, sorry, sorry… Erable kept apologizing to Kancher as he unleashed a torrent of curses.

It wasn’t just the security team—her entire day was a mess. If she kept this up, she was bound to end up beaten by one of the dogs.

After hurriedly fixing the missing shipment and getting cursed at a few more times, Erable buried her face in her hands.

She couldn’t think straight. Her workday had passed in a blur. At this rate, her head was going to explode.

But maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

The constant tension was suffocating. She almost wished for a sudden collapse from stomach pain, but she cursed her body for refusing to break down when she needed it to most.

No, even if she did collapse, it wouldn’t matter. She’d just have to go through with it while in pain.

“…Shall we get started?”

This was completely outside the realm of what she had anticipated.

“Our relationship.”

Over the past few days, she had imagined all sorts of scenarios—being sent to a lab, being dragged to a conflict zone, or even some absurd “bonding” mission like Dezeb had hinted at.

But in this bet, where the wager was one month or one and a half, they had been overly generous with her odds.

She almost felt undeserving of such a lenient timeline.

‘…Sigh.’

Erable swallowed a deep breath and buried her face in her hands once again.

‘Wasn’t he supposed to… not be into women…?’

What happened to the original storyline? Sure, there was never a specific mention of him not being into women, but considering he had been constantly involved with men throughout the novel without a single mention of a woman—wasn’t that implied?

All her concerns over the past few days had been about being sent to a conflict zone or being turned into some sort of experimental subject—not… this.

‘…Why me?’

She couldn’t understand it. She was a mere level 2 in physical ability, with nothing about her that should pique his interest.

Erable prided herself on being relatively self-aware.

‘…I guess I should cancel the extra medication I ordered.’

She had placed an additional order of various drugs in preparation for being thrown into a war zone.

Actually, no. Maybe she should keep it. There was a chance her body would break down anyway…

‘Today…’

One month, one and a half months? Impossible. She remembered the average was more like a week, wasn’t it? The “dogs” had overestimated her by a mile. At least her two years of diligent work hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.

‘The order must have already been shipped anyway.’

She had even ordered a bio-stimulant ampoule. At least she’d be able to patch herself up if things got too bad—as long as the injuries weren’t too life-threatening.

Today marked the 11th day since Dezeb had first come to her house. She was already well past the average timeframe.

Which meant that today could very well be her last day.

Especially in this kind of bet.

Her thoughts were a chaotic swirl of confusion, only to settle into a numb blankness again. The day passed in a haze, with the “dogs” gritting their teeth over the mess she had made of her work. But Erable floated through it all like a jellyfish, drifting aimlessly.

By the time she finally snapped out of it, the day was over.

“Shall we go?”

Dezeb was as calm and composed as always.

Of course, he was. He was always unflappable. The universe could explode, and he would still carry that air of nonchalance. Because none of it ever affected him.

The only ones affected were everyone else.

“Go ahead and wash up first.”

“Yes, yes…”

As they returned home together, he unbuttoned his shirt with his usual ease. Erable, still too disoriented to think clearly, was startled back to reality and hurriedly responded, stumbling over her own feet as she headed toward the bathroom.

“Erable, don’t forget your bag,” Dezeb said, reaching out to take the bag from her shoulder, handing it over like it was a minor courtesy.

Erable mumbled a flustered “thank you” and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

She leaned back against the door, sliding down to the floor in a heap.