15.

‘……’

It was the same thought she had been having all day, trying to think of a way to avoid the situation. But there was no way out. He had spoken, and that was the end of it. If she didn’t want to end up as half-melted sludge found in a waste treatment facility, this was the end.

Erable had to go through with it—with Dezeb Avganis.

She shakily stood up, turned on the water, and began washing her hair, dirty from her shift at the warehouse. She shaved her arms and legs, even though her body hair was practically non-existent. It wasn’t something she usually bothered with, but today, she made sure everything was perfectly smooth.

At the same time, she tried desperately not to think about the way he embraced his partners in the original novel.

In this situation, imagining such scenes was no different from watching a snuff film. Every time those thoughts surfaced, she had to pause, terrified she would slice her own skin with the trembling razor. Not that she needed to; she wouldn’t make it through today unscathed either way.

‘Ugh…’

She pressed her burning eyelids with the palms of her hands.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the way Dezeb treated his partners. Sometimes he was gentle; sometimes he was brutal. Maybe because he was never really sincere in any of it.

Sometimes, all they could do was squeeze their eyes shut, and at other times, the encounters stretched on for days.

In reality, it was more like he was toying with them… and those partners always… No, it didn’t matter.

There was only one thing Erable had to do.

‘I just need to endure.’

She rubbed her eyes fiercely, telling herself that today wouldn’t be her last day.

Not everyone he touched ended up dead.

Not always. So, just endure. She could do that. She had been doing it ever since she arrived in this other world.

With her mind somewhat resolved, Erable swallowed two Signum sedatives and pulled her damp hair into the hood of her loungewear—a hoodie and sweatpants. There was no way she had the guts to walk out wearing nothing but a bathrobe, like in some movie scene. She even wore underwear and fastened her bra all the way. There was always a chance Dezeb might change his mind. She clung to that last thread of hope.

‘Why me? I didn’t do anything wrong. I worked so hard, so why me…?’ But knowing the reason wouldn’t change anything. What would she even do if she knew?

Focus on survival.

With her hoodie covering her dried hair and her sleeves pulled down over her hands, Erable stepped out of the bathroom.

“My goodness, Erable. You’re all bundled up.”

Dezeb, leaning casually against the dining table and scrolling through his pad, laughed when he saw her tightly cinched hood.

“At least you came out quickly. I thought you’d take an hour.”

He set down the pad and stood up. His full height, all 188.2 centimeters of it, was imposing enough to be a threat in itself.

Erable swallowed her instinct to run.

She could bear it—for now. She had shaved her body and her mind in the bathroom, after all.

Endure. She could endure this.

“Head to the bedroom first.”

No, I can’t… She thought, but her mouth dutifully responded.

“Yes.”

The will was in the freezer, and the insurance certificate was in the drawer under her bed. Erable mentally reviewed her posthumous arrangements and began counting in her head.

The current time was 20:47.

They had eaten lightly outside at his suggestion, having grabbed a quick dinner at the military canteen before coming home.

She had eaten to keep her strength up, showered, and done everything possible to prolong the inevitable. It was now 20:48… no, 20:49.

Her work shift started at 07:10.

Ten hours and twenty-one minutes. That was 621 minutes or 37,260 seconds. If she could just hold out for that long, she might make it to her shift.

‘37,258… 57…’

Following his instructions, Erable entered the bedroom and started pacing, counting the seconds backward in her head.

Time passed, as it always does, and when the countdown had reached around 36,000 seconds, Dezeb entered the bedroom.

His jet-black hair was wet, and he was shirtless, wearing only training pants. It was the image of a man preparing for… a relationship, and it was suffocating. But she had expected this.

What she hadn’t expected was…

“……!!”

Dezeb began humming to himself as he unlocked a small black plastic case, no bigger than his palm.

A flood of horrific scenes flashed through Erable’s mind all at once.

“N-No, I don’t want the drugs!” she cried out.

Erable clung to him, memories of those miserable individuals, the ones who pursued pleasure even in the moments of death, flashing through her mind.

“No drugs! P-Please… no…!”

Dezeb looked down at her, slightly surprised.

“Calm down, Erable. It’s just a mild local anesthetic.”

“…What?”

Erable blinked, her mind scrambling to process his words.

Tears that had been welling up in her eyes began to spill down her cheeks, and her lips, slightly parted in confusion, dripped with saliva.

Her face must have looked pathetic, practically wearing panic like a badge. But even if she realized that, she wouldn’t have cared much in this situation.

“I said it’s just a mild local anesthetic. You’ll feel uncomfortable at first without it,” Dezeb explained, his voice calm.

An anesthetic… Feeling slightly more composed, Erable took a deep breath.

He brushed aside the hood covering her tangled hair, gently smoothing it down.

Kneeling before him, gripping his legs as if begging for mercy, she was comforted by his strangely gentle expression.

“I’m your first, aren’t I, Erable? If we do this without preparation, it’ll be a lot more uncomfortable. But, if you hate the idea that much, we can skip it.”

“H-How do you know that I’m…?”

“Lieutenant Camellia Obea has been making quite the fuss about it. She keeps going on about how you should just go ahead and do it already. I doubt there’s anyone in the unit who doesn’t know you’re still a virgin.”

“Oh…”

A strange relief washed over Erable. Her face flushed, but it wasn’t entirely out of embarrassment—more from the comfort of his casual tone.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Dezeb slid his hands under her arms, lifting her effortlessly.

Her face paled again, realizing how easily he handled her. Maybe the drugs wouldn’t have been so bad after all—being sedated might’ve made this all a bit more bearable. Her fear might provoke his cruelty, and that wouldn’t end well.

“I waited a few days, hoping you’d relax a little, but I guess it didn’t help, huh?”

He grumbled lightly as he kissed her lips softly.

Erable’s face contorted in shock.

Dezeb chuckled and kissed her again, this time a bit longer, before pulling back with a soft, deliberate sound.

Her small body trembled, like prey caught in a spider’s web.

“Erable.”

“…Y-Yes?”

She seemed confused, unsure of what was happening. His saliva, slightly mingled with hers, was starting to affect her, even if only slightly. She likely felt something odd—perhaps a warmth, or a strange itching sensation.

But her body, still pressed against his, was rigid with tension, and her heart pounded wildly, as if trying to escape.

“I’m worried about you, Erable. I’m not trying to devour you. It’s just a simple connection, that’s all. It’ll feel good. Better than any sedative, I promise. Just relax.”

“You mean… instead of a sedative?”

As he spoke, Dezeb sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her into his lap.

Erable’s body stiffened once again, like a plank of wood.

“Relax,” he repeated.

Of course, if it were that easy, the world wouldn’t have any problems. Dezeb cupped the back of her head with one large hand, her small head fitting neatly in his grip.

Seeing the fear flicker across her face at the size difference, Dezeb tilted his head slightly.

He wasn’t one to take his time with such things. It wasn’t usually his style. Yet, here he was, doing just that, and even he wasn’t quite sure why.

He gently licked her lips. When his tongue nudged the seam of her lips, she trembled and, though terrified, slowly parted her mouth.

His eyes softened, a faint smile playing on his lips as he deepened the kiss.

“Hnng…”

A soft moan escaped her throat as their lips connected more fully, her breath hitching in her throat.

“You need to swallow.”

He bit down gently on her lower lip, prompting her to swallow the accumulating saliva.

Then, as he trailed his tongue slowly across her lips, he let his hand wander along the inside of her thigh.

She was soft—small and soft. He savored the feeling, enjoying the stark contrast to his own harder form.

Her deep brown eyes, dilated from fear, flickered with conflicting emotions. Dezeb gripped her chin and held her gaze, waiting for her to regain some clarity.

“…Ah.”

Erable shuddered in response, regaining enough sense to try and pull away instinctively.

But Dezeb tightened his hold on her, his large hand easily controlling her small frame.

“…!”

She gasped, lips quivering as more saliva dripped down. He kissed her again, softly this time, almost as if trying to soothe her.

Tears began to pool in the corners of her tightly shut eyes. Dezeb clicked his tongue.

Hearing that sound, Erable timidly glanced up at him, a flicker of hope in her wide brown eyes.

“I-I think this isn’t… really… enjoyable for me…”

As she spoke, her face flushed deep red, and she tried to push his hand away when he slid it under her waistband. But then she quickly pulled her hands back, as if realizing what she had done, nervously clutching the hem of her hoodie instead.

Dezeb watched her, concern flickering in his gaze.

If this continued, he might actually kill her by accident.