Chastity-Reversed Hard Mode: Surviving as a Steel-Minded Adventurer in Another World - Chapter 20: Enduring with a Steel Mentality While Spectating a Lovers’ Quarrel

Chapter 20: Enduring with a Steel Mentality While Spectating a Lovers’ Quarrel

“You slut! Get away from Yuji!”

“Shut the hell up, runt! Always buzzing around Eugene, acting like a pest—I’ve hated it from the start!”

Hello, Saint Yuji here.

Currently, right in front of me, a full-on battlefield is unfolding.

Ursna and Irene are fighting over me—but don’t picture some mild shoujo-manga scene with slaps and catty remarks. Nope.

This is fists to the face, kicks to the stomach, a no-holds-barred brawl. They’re seriously throwing down like it’s a martial arts manga.

Honestly, if they hadn’t been forced to surrender their weapons earlier, I’m pretty sure they’d have drawn blades and gone straight for each other’s throats.

Weird. Just a moment ago, I was starring in a romcom shoujo manga setup… so when did the genre suddenly flip to battle shounen?

One thing’s for sure: the women of this world basically have the mentality of men.

I used to think it was just their sex drive that matched guys—but no, their fighting instincts are off the charts too.

Guess when you lock men away at home and send women off to war for generations, the culture just naturally grows… really, really aggressive.

“Bust your face in!!”

“Drop dead, bitch!!”

Wow… they’re really beating the crap out of each other.

Even pro fighters back in modern Japan wouldn’t go at it like this.

Turns out, when two people with magic boosts start brawling, the results are insane.

I thought about giving a detailed play-by-play, but honestly, I don’t know much about martial arts.

So let’s just say right now Irene’s trying to snap Ursna’s leg, while Ursna’s attempting to choke Irene out. They’re deadlocked—so they both leapt back to reset the fight.

(※Fine, here’s the “technical version”: Ursna slammed Irene to the ground, but Irene broke her fall and instantly countered with a low kick to sweep Ursna’s legs. Ursna saw it coming and jumped, aiming a heel drop at Irene’s skull midair. Irene caught it with both hands, twisted, trying to break her leg, only for Ursna to lock an arm around Irene’s neck. They strained in a power contest until, without a word, both disengaged and took distance. …There. See? Your eyes glazed over, didn’t they? You can skip that part.)

“Not bad… for a so-called scout.”

“Tch. I thought you were just a kid, but looks like I can’t hold back after all.”

…Okay, hold up.

Why are they suddenly spouting lines straight out of a hardcore martial arts manga?

What kind of worldbuilding are these two even fighting under?

Elite adventurers with magic boosts were honestly on another level.

As just a regular guy, there’s no way I could keep up.

Sure, I used to train back in my old world—but even then, a Big-Horned Rabbit nearly gave me a run for my money.

These two? They could slaughter one without breaking a sweat.

So a fight between them… yeah, that’s basically like watching two martial arts masters clash.

“…Ahh, so it’s finally come to this.”

Hearing the commotion, other adventurers started gathering, watching the fight like it was a show.

“Shouldn’t we stop them?”

“They were bound to clash eventually. Better they settle the pecking order early.”

“…Huh. I see?”

I tilted my head at the leader’s explanation.

Honestly, from the way Irene and Ursna radiated killing intent, it felt less like a spar and more like “fight until bones snap.”

Could this even end cleanly?

“Why don’t you try stopping them? They might actually listen to you.”

“…Hmm.”

Alright, let’s give it a shot.

“Stop! Don’t fight over me!!”

Both of them immediately turned toward me.

“Wait for me, Yuji! I’ll take care of this slut and prove I’m the one for you!”

“Eugene! Once I put this brat in her place, you and I can finish what we started nice and cozy!”

“UOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!”

“GUOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!”

My words only fired them up more.

They threw themselves back into the brawl with even greater ferocity.

“Doesn’t look like it’s working.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

The leader munched on some baked sweets while watching the fight.

She even offered me one, so I gratefully accepted and popped it into my mouth.

Oh—financier. Buttery and rich, surprisingly tasty. Probably leftover from the dessert they served at dinner.

“Y’know, fights between women over a man are usually meaningless. More often than not, the guy already knows who he’s going to choose before the fists even fly. So—have you decided yet?”

“Nope, nothing decided.”

“So… neither of them’s your type?”

“Not really. They’re both different types, but honestly? I like them both. They’re cute.”

Ursna’s like that buddy you instantly click with.

Her face has that sharp, handsome vibe, and under her bandana her silky blonde hair is smooth and gorgeous.

Her boobs? Perfectly shaped and beautiful—honestly a sight that makes you happy just looking.

Yeah, she gives off a “might-be-heavy” vibe emotionally, but if you think of it as proof of how deep her love runs, that’s actually kind of charming.

She’s smart, quick-witted, always ready with a snappy comeback—so talking with her is genuinely fun.

Even if she never became my lover, I’d definitely want her as a friend.

Irene’s the feisty little-animal type—like a beautiful kitten still in its growing phase.

She’s small in height, but her arms and legs are lean and athletic, a proper sporty girl.

Her red hair carries this fresh, citrusy scent.

Her chest may be on the smaller side now, but it’s clearly got potential.

And teasing her is the best—her reactions are so cute it’s addictive.

When I hug her from behind and pat her head, she struggles at first, flailing to get away.

But eventually her strength just melts, and she turns into this floppy, helpless bundle. Absolutely adorable.

Even the faint scent from her neck has this strangely calming effect on me.

Another bonus? Her values feel really close to what girls back in Japan would have.

In this insane chastity-reversal world, that makes her a precious little island of normality.

≪Explanation Time!

Correction: Irene doesn’t actually have “modern Japanese girl values.”

It’s just that her bratty, tsundere shota mannerisms look like normal girl behavior through Yuji’s biased lens!

Pile that on top of her BSS (But He was mine Before) fetish, plus the fact she got hugged like a stuffed animal while being called “cute” at the inn, and yeah… her shota heart is teetering on the edge of shattering into complicated little pieces!≫

“If I had to choose between them… well…”

I thought it over for a second, then opened my mouth.

“To be honest, I’d want to two-time them. Go on dates with both. And if possible, knock up both of them.”

“You slut! You’re the worst!!”

The leader and the others recoiled, their faces twisting in pure disgust at my words.

Ah. So I’m a slut.

I see… I see.

“But hold on—in this country’s culture, it’s normal for multiple women to share one man, right? Wouldn’t a lewd guy be welcomed with open arms?”

“Well, yeah, but… when a man suddenly blurts out, ‘I want to knock up multiple women!’ with raw, woman-level lust showing, it’s… kinda off-putting.”

“But isn’t knocking up multiple women just standard here for men?”

“Sure, the end result is like that, but… the control, or, uh… the lead in the relationship, y’know…”

Hmm.

Yeah, I don’t get it. This is complicated.

I thought this world was all-in on “bring on the harems!” but apparently, not quite.

≪Explanation Time!

It’s basically the same as if, in our world, some girl went, “I like both guys, so I’ll live with them both as common-law husbands, pop out babies every year without knowing whose is whose, and raise them together ♥.”

Even if most guys like slutty girls, once you cross into ultra–super-slut territory, it’s intimidating as hell!≫

…Wait. I think I get it now.

Back home, when a woman surrounded herself with a bunch of guys, we called that a reverse harem.

But here, where chastity is flipped, if a man surrounds himself with a bunch of women… that’s basically a reverse-reverse harem.

We’ve looped all the way around.

But since men in this world don’t have control in married life, it ends up looking like some abnormal arrangement.

So yeah—in this world, the normal harem is like what the Count has: one woman, many men.

Huh. Pretty deep stuff.

Even while I was lost in thought, Ursna and Irene’s catfight kept raging on.

Although honestly, calling it a catfight feels wrong—it was way too bloody to be anything but a deathmatch.

And I realized something.

Being fought over? …Not as great as you’d think.

If anything, I just wanted them to stop.

I like both of them, so watching them hurt each other sucked.

Instead of throwing punches, they could be sitting on either side of me, feeding me fruit, flirting, pampering me… that’d make me way happier.

Why can’t they just get along…? Damn it, world…!!

“You two, enough! This is the Count’s mansion! Who the hell brawls in somebody else’s house!?”

Finally, Deabolica stormed in, forcing the two apart.

Ursna and Irene, covered in scratches, glared daggers at each other, growling low in their throats like wild beasts.

Adorable, right? Those feral animals are my girlfriend candidates.

Still, I had to admire Deabolica.

Marching straight into that bloodbath and yanking them apart? Yeah, that’s peak Guildmaster energy.

Just as I was thinking that, she turned her sharp gaze on me.

“And you! Why didn’t you stop them!?”

“…Uh, because I’m just a fragile little man? There’s no way I could’ve done anything.”

“Tch… acting weak only when it’s convenient… lazy bastard.”

It seems Deabolica has this weird misunderstanding that I’m secretly strong.

Maybe it’s because I’ve healed a ton of people, or because some folks almost tried to raise me up as the figurehead of a coup.

She seems convinced I’m just hiding my true power behind a lazy façade.

But nope. I’m the real deal: the weakest adventurer alive.

UOOOOHHHH!! One hit from a taser would straight-up kill me!!

…Wait.

Oh crap. I could’ve just set both their magic to 1 and ended that fight instantly.

Guess new skills don’t always come to mind in the heat of the moment.

While I was kicking myself over that—

“Well, well… has the little show come to an end?”

Snap, snap.

The Count appeared, smacking her fan against her palm with sharp little cracks.

If she showed up at the same time as Deabolica, that probably meant they’d been in the middle of business negotiations just now.

Deabolica instantly shrank down, practically rubbing her hands together, plastering on a greasy smile while sweat beaded on her brow.

“Count, I beg your forgiveness. My companions have caused a scene… Adventurers are hot-blooded creatures, after all. Their reckless energy is also what makes them strong in battle. Please forgive them for dirtying your garden…”

“Very well. Even in my own house, knights and mercenaries brawl from time to time. Hot blood can be quite useful on the battlefield.”

“Your gracious understanding humbles me beyond words.”

Oh! So it’s one of those “Haha! Youthful energy, splendid! Wahahaha!” kind of outcomes.

Guess the Count actually had a pretty generous side to her.

Or so I thought—until her eyes shifted and locked directly on me.

Huh?

“Saint, would you join me for a drink? I was just talking numbers with Lady Deabolica a moment ago, and now my mind is too awake for sleep. Indulge me with stories of the East.”

“…”

I glanced over at Deabolica to gauge her reaction.

Her lips twisted, eyes narrowing into some unreadable expression.

Uh, excuse me? Which is it?

Don’t throw cryptic facial expressions at someone with zero empathy skills.

…Hmm. Maybe she was saying, “Do whatever you want.”

But really, it looked more like, “I’d love for you to refuse, but after Ursna and Irene just trashed the place fighting over you, you can’t possibly turn her down.”

Basically, the tortured face of someone forced to accept the lesser evil.

Well, if this counted as an apology for the chaos, then fine.

“…Understood. I’ll gladly join you.”

“Excellent! I have a special brandy saved for just such an occasion. Come with me.”

＝＝＝＝＝＝

＝＝＝＝

＝＝

The Count herself poured the amber liquid into a glass with a steady glug-glug, then handed it directly to me.

I half-expected a servant to be hovering around, but nope—it was just me and the Count in the reception room. A completely private, one-on-one drinking session.

Was I supposed to pour her one in return?

While I was still wondering, she casually filled her own glass.

Alright then—guess I’ll just follow her lead.

She held the glass cupped in her palm, letting the warmth of her hand gently heat the brandy.

I copied her movements, lifting my own glass the same way.

“To today’s fortunate meeting.”

The Count clinked her glass against mine, and I took a sip of the brandy.

Whoa. This was good.

I’d never had brandy before, but it hit about as hard as whiskey—fiery the instant it touched my tongue, like my whole mouth was set ablaze.

And yet, unlike whiskey, the aroma was richer. As it flowed up through my nose, the scent spread with a mix of warmth and that faint medicinal tang of alcohol.

“This is delicious.”

“Of course. It’s a first-class bottle, imported straight from Shalsmel. Even His Majesty the King drinks it. To call it anything less than excellent would be an insult to the throne, wouldn’t it?”

The Count chuckled, clearly in high spirits.

No trace of the harshness she’d shown earlier.

She must’ve really been weighed down by her illness before.

Looking at her again, I noticed her sharp, narrow eyes gave her a rather severe impression—but taken as a whole, she was definitely within the “gorgeous” category.

The kind of face that screamed, “I was totally called a villainess in my teenage years.”

Sure, years of illness had left her a bit worn, but now in her mid-thirties, she was at the peak of her womanhood.

It wouldn’t be surprising if she regained her full radiance soon.

Most importantly, she was smiling now—so the odds of me accidentally saying the wrong thing and getting my head lopped off seemed pretty low.

“I’d heard that upper-class dining is all about silence and restraint, but it seems when it comes to drinking, that rule doesn’t apply?”

“Well, meals, yes. But if even at a drinking table we were told to stay quiet, life would be unbearable. Since our country switched to the New Church, we no longer have to tithe to the old greedy one. But the strict sect of the New Church keeps barking orders—don’t celebrate, don’t drink, don’t eat fine meals, no harvest festivals. Bah! Humans are not golems. We can’t just sit around reading scripture and praying all day. …Hmm? Tell me, Saint—are you one of those strict ones?”

So yeah, the people here all technically believe in the same god, but a few decades ago they split from the old money-grubbing church and created the New Church.

The “strict sect” ended up becoming the mainstream, swinging hard in the opposite direction—rejecting indulgence and glorifying poverty.

Honestly? I wanted nothing to do with their faction wars.

“No, I do follow the New Church, but I don’t belong to any particular sect.”

“Hah! I thought so. You clearly enjoy your drink too much to be one of those uptight zealots. A waste on them, indeed.”

She laughed, pouring me another glass of brandy.

I rinsed my mouth with the water chaser, then gratefully sipped again. Mm… the aroma really was incredible.

“What about your homeland, Saint? Surely you have liquor there as well? No country could possibly be without it.”

“Indeed. Back home we drink sake.”

…Though whether my homeland was really called “Japan” in this world, I had no idea. Classic fantasy trope—the far eastern island nation that’s basically Japan. Odds were, it existed here too.

“When you take a simple fermented rice liquor and mix in ash, the ash absorbs the impurities and sinks to the bottom, leaving behind a clear, refined sake. It looks as pure and beautiful as water, and the taste is refreshing and delicious.”

“Oh…? Rice, you mean that vegetable they serve as a side with salad? To think something like that could make liquor—that’s remarkable. I’d love to try it someday. And tell me, how does it compare to this brandy?”

Oof, that’s a tough one…

Honestly, all alcohol has its own unique charm and flavor. But if I had to answer strictly by personal preference—

“I prefer drinks with a rich aroma, so… I’d choose this brandy.”

“Hahaha, you don’t need to flatter me. …No, you’re not the type who bothers with flattery anyway.”

Correct. Hello, that’s me—the mentally-busted isekai transplant who can’t even manage basic social niceties.

The Count swirled the amber liquid in her glass, her gaze drifting off into the distance.

“To think someone like you exists in this world… Are you truly not a messenger from the heavens?”

“Not at all. I’m just an ordinary man, no different from anyone else.”

…Well, aside from being imported from another world.

“Mm. Yes, I suppose so. If you were a true envoy of heaven, you wouldn’t save nobles—you’d wipe us out. For our blood itself is the crystallization of sin.”

Whoa, heavy much?

Sure, nobles do plenty of shady things, but still. This lady must really hate her own class.

Funny, though—didn’t she look down on commoners just as much a few hours ago?

I guess my confusion must’ve shown on my face.

The Count shook her head and let out a faint smile.

“Well, I suppose a Saint like you wouldn’t understand. Least of all as an Easterner.”

“…Right.”

“Tell me—this rumor that Easterners can’t use magic. Is it true?”

Uh… how should I know?

I tilted my head. After all, I wasn’t even from this world’s version of the East.

“Maybe some can? I’ve never seen it myself, though.”

Translation: I have no clue, but dressed up in fancier words.

My perfect dodge strategy.

The Count’s eyes, however, stayed fixed on my face.

“And what about you, Saint? Can you not use magic?”

“Ah—yeah… I can’t.”

No point lying here. Better to just nod along.

“…I see.”

The Count set her glass down on the table and rose slightly.

Then she sat back down—this time right next to me on the sofa.

Eh? Wait, what?

I tried sliding a little to the side, but she immediately shifted closer, closing the gap.

“Uh…?”

“Saint. A noblewoman’s duty is to become the hearth of the next generation. Governing her people, paying taxes to the crown, waging wars to expand territory—yes, those abilities are necessary. But in truth, none of that really matters. What truly matters is birthing children with stronger magic, raising them, and passing on the house. In the end, nobles exist for that purpose alone. We are slaves to the formless monster called ‘bloodline.’”

“…Right.”

She took my left hand and pressed it against her stomach.

It felt warmer there than on any woman I’d ever touched before.

“This womb… it’s like a beast living inside me, always raging. Bring me stronger seed. Give me richer semen. That’s what it whispers. Truly, noblewomen are nothing but hearths. My womb craves stronger offspring more than anything. Every time I give birth, it praises me—well done, now produce something even greater. And so I obeyed those whispers… I’ve been bearing children since I was fourteen.”

“…………”

The Count released my hand and this time began stroking my knee. Even through the thin fabric, the touch made me wince.

“I’ve already given birth to twenty children. But it still isn’t enough. The heat won’t end. Stronger children. Thicker bloodlines. How long must this go on? To be honest, I’m afraid. My husband alone couldn’t satisfy it. Even after taking concubines, it wasn’t enough. I reached for maids, gardeners, cooks—any man within reach—feeding the fire hotter and hotter. In the end, I even slept with traveling men, caught the pox, spread it to my own household… and still I couldn’t stop. So, Saint… I began to wonder.”

She leaned in close, her lips painted deep red brushing against my ear.

“If I bore the seed of a man with no magic at all, perhaps this inferno in my womb would finally burn out. So please, Saint… give me your seed. With your holy seed, put an end to this fire of lust inside me.”