Chương 142: Reborn as the Dragon — Chapter 142 - Attachment to Life

[PS: This chapter is not for the faint of stomach. Strongly advised against reading before, during, or after meals. If you proceed anyway, don't say you weren't warned.].

"Orihime-chan, we are about to undergo the Trial of the Ninja. Please remain calm."

"If anything comes up, we can discuss it later when we get back." Haruta Motono's face was the picture of misery. What else could he do? He had already submitted to this terrifying woman. During the day, he labored like a beast in the Experimental Field. At night, he also had to labor in the [field], and only when dawn broke was he allowed to rest. Then he'd get less than an hour of sleep before it was back to the fields again. Of course he couldn't take it. Of course he wanted to leave. He simply couldn't. Escape.

No. Way. This violent woman only needed to raise one hand to scoop him up, fat as he was. Worse, she stuck to him around the clock, twenty-four hours a day, never once letting him leave her sight. So now, no matter what Haruta Motono wanted, he phrased it as a polite request. Inoue Orihime looked at his pitiful little face and felt something warm bloom in her chest. She extended her great fan-like hand and gently patted his chubby cheek.

"Then it's agreed, okay? We'll go back and study tonight~ You can't find some excuse to run. Away. Oh!" He hoped that after enduring the Trial of the Way of the Ninja, he might become a real ninja. Haruta Motono clung to this thought. A thin thread of hope flickered to life in his otherwise dead, ash-gray eyes.. Meanwhile, just over a hundred meters from the mud-brick house. Banana Wolf had already retrieved Little Red from the breeding room.

To help her produce a larger batch of special Shit Bombs, he had given her a full-body massage and fed her a generous helping of Spurt Grass. Now, the Dragonified Tyrant Stinkbug Little Red had a belly swollen tight as a drum. Her backside twitched with rhythmic little spasms. She was locked, loaded, and ready to fire.

"Master. Almost. Ready." As Banana Wolf spoke, he gestured for a Kobold to bring over a bamboo basket. Su Nian nodded and stepped back. A Tyrant Stinkbug that had eaten Spurt Grass was not something you wanted to be near. He retreated to a safe distance, well out of the blast radius for what was coming. Watching his master put that much distance between himself and Little Red, Banana Wolf couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy on her behalf.

"It's like I always say, Little Red," he murmured inwardly.

"Only I treat you with true sincerity. Whatever your identity, whatever your race — our bond transcended all of that long ago." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. He lifted Little Red gently with one paw and began rubbing her belly with the other. It was like flipping a switch. Pfft pfft pfft! The mutant Tyrant Stinkbug's belly lurched upward, and Little Red let herself go completely.

Dark red Shit Bombs shot from her rear end in rapid succession, fast enough to leave afterimages in the air. In barely two breaths, the bamboo basket was already half full. When it was over, Little Red's belly sagged flat and empty. She let out two small squeaks, gave Banana Wolf a soft, lingering look, then closed her eyes and went still. Banana Wolf was well acquainted with this particular state. It was just the standard crash that came after a thorough emptying, nothing life-threatening.

She probably even had two more in her. He extended his paw again and pressed a few specific points along Little Red's body. Sure enough, her backside gave a little shiver. She let out one long, drawn-out squeak, and produced the final two dark red Shit Bombs. That did it. She was officially done. A wave of eye-watering stench exploded upward. The fecal gas vaporized into a dark red mist that churned and rolled outward in every direction. It was spectacular, in the worst possible way.

Banana Wolf stroked Little Red's carapace with genuine tenderness, then carefully placed her into the rest basket he had prepared in advance. His Little Red had earned her sleep.

"Master. Bombs. Ready. Awaiting. Instructions!" Banana Wolf held his nose shut with one paw. His eyes were swimming with tears.

"Begin the throwing experiment!" Su Nian gave the order and moved his dragon body back another several steps for good measure. Banana Wolf picked up a dark red Shit Bomb in each hand. He raised his elbow. He thrust his hips. He twisted at the waist. Every ounce of force converged toward the point of release. He threw with everything he had. Whoosh whoosh, The sound of Shit Bombs cutting through the air. Inside the mud-brick house, the Sakura players stirred. One by one, they turned toward the door.

"What is that? Could it be, could this be the flying trial of the ninja?!"

"Yoshi! Bring it on! I've been ready! Let us witness the Way of the Ninja in another world!" The Sakura players were practically vibrating with excitement. There was nothing they loved more than a good challenge. Even the despondent Haruta Motono felt it. He'd heard stories, plenty of players had stumbled into bizarre situations during exploration and unlocked powerful hidden classes. If he passed this trial, maybe, just maybe, he had a shot at becoming a real ninja. And if he became a ninja...

Maybe he could finally get away from this woman. Whoosh! The sound sliced through the air. The Sakura players braced. BOOM. BOOM. Two explosions rocked the mud-brick house. The blasts themselves were underwhelming, barely scratched a quarter of anyone's health. But then the stench hit. It came all at once, sharp and pungent and overwhelming, surging into their noses and straight through to their brains, churning everything inside like a violent tide.

"This, urk, is this the trial urk, the trial of the Way of the Ninja urk,!"

"My eyes, sob, it burns, my eyes—" The Sakura players fell apart completely. They'd already suffered through vomiting and diarrhea before. They thought they knew how bad it could get. They were wrong. This was vomiting and crying at the same time. The burning sensation was like someone had dripped hot chili oil directly onto their eyeballs. Pain was technically blocked by the game system, but their eyes had already swollen red and half-shut, eyelids drooping so heavily they couldn't pry them open.

Tears ran freely and without stopping.

"Motono-kun, this is the evil dragon's wicked experiment! Urk! I'll get you out of here! Urk~" Haruta Motono had gone completely numb. He didn't mind being rescued. What he did mind was why Orihime-chan had to vomit directly onto his face while doing it. Being short was not a crime. Where was the basic human decency?! And given Orihime-chan's general physique and appetite, which were, by any measure, considerable, the sheer volume her stomach was capable of storing was really something to contemplate.

In short: Haruta Motono's facial features were now completely buried under a multicolored landslide of vomit.

"BAKA!!! MMMPH—" He opened his mouth to roar, and immediately got a full mouthful poured in. By the time the players finally had the coherent thought to run for the exit, they found the only door sealed shut beneath a heavy iron plate. Su Nian had taken no chances. He'd ordered two gnolls to lean their full weight against the door panel and hold it there. The panel shook and rattled violently, the players inside were throwing themselves at it with everything they had. Time passed. The shaking grew weaker. Weaker.

Until at last, the door went completely still.... The experiment was over. Su Nian ordered his monsters to drag the Sakura players out. Ten humanoid figures lay scattered across the dry, withered grass, bodies coated in filth and unspeakable foulness. Looking into their eyes, eyes that had gone flat and glassy, stripped of all their shine, you could just barely make out the faint memory of how much they had once loved being alive. ➤ Next: Tyrannosaurus Stink Bug