Free Isekai Reproduction Life with an Endangered Demi-Human Onee-san in the Forest of Certain Death ~My Mental Stat Is Pathetically Weak, But After Transferring, I’ll Live for Myself This Time~ - Chapter 105: What Are You Doing?

Chapter 105: What Are You Doing?

“Alright, that’s it for the lecture!”

Razu-san’s loud voice jolts the adventurers dozing off, kokkuri-kokkuri. They started out glued to his stories, but more and more nodded off as it went on.

I found it too engaging to sleep. No shade, but they’re probably not used to lectures. No mandatory education in this world, right? My Japanese cram-school and pointless-meeting endurance made this a breeze.

“Now for what you’ve been waiting for—combat training! We’ll head to the training grounds before dungeon dives to check your skills!”

The adventurers perk up. Guess they prefer moving their bodies.

Time to call Yankee Bestelta. Yankee… squatting over me, glaring, Yankee piston… muscular purple thighs peeking from a miniskirt sailor outfit… Just imagining it’s enough to awaken me.

“Oi, Kei! How was the lecture?”

Razu-san stops me for feedback.

“It was fun. Really helpful.”

Basic response.

What else can I say? It was clear, useful, and his stories were great.

“Glad to hear it. Was worried with all the sleepers.”

He scratches his head, embarrassed. Cute old guy. Bet he’s got tons of friends.

“Young adventurers are hot-blooded. Probably itching to move.”

“Yeah, figures. Wanted them to get the importance of knowledge, but oh well. I’ll drill it into their bodies!”

He grins wickedly. The sleepers are in for it.

“By the way, where’s that stunning lady?”

“Oh… sorry, she’s the physical type too. I’ll fill her in later.”

“Right. She looks crazy strong. Might have her spar as an example during training, so tell her to be ready.”

What?! Sparring in public? Punishment? A serious spar with Bestelta? I’d need multiple lives!

“My pathetic sparring’s not show-worthy…”

“No way! I saw you and her crush the Tsurins. Most newbies here have zero combat experience, let alone life-or-death fights. I want them to get some practice. Next session’s all about sparring. You guys take it easy on them. Then you and the lady do a mock battle. Counting on you!”

“W-Wait, seriously?”

“Obviously! You’re already beyond J-rank talent. Better show your strength early. Those kids next to you were picking a fight, right? You brushed them off, but that won’t do. Adventurers prove themselves with strength. Hiding it gets you hated here. And drop that overly polite talk—it gives me chills.”

He’s serious. He’s right, though. Getting underestimated sucks, especially for Bestelta. Only I get to lick her. Pero-pero.

“Got it. I’ll do it. But while I’m fine, she’s not great at holding back.”

Demi-humans and humans have different views on life and death, so I’m worried.

“That’s perfect. Adventurers don’t get to choose what happens or how they die.”

Sure, but Bestelta wouldn’t go that far unless it’s dire…

“Alright, it’s on you. Show them what strength looks like. Clash a bit and go with the flow.”

That sounds like rigging the fight!

Ugh, it’s settled. “Strength” is embarrassing. Around demi-humans, human-level strength contests feel silly. They’re like Super Saiyans… no, Super Subhumans?

At the guild’s training grounds…

“Uraa!”

The cute-faced boy from the lecture charges, swinging a wooden practice sword. The same kid from next to me.

“Stop it.”

Hyoi. I trip him with my foot. So slow. Musculus would’ve mocked him five times.

He slides face-first, zuzzaa, and pounds the ground, “Damn it!”

“You mocking me?! Fight for real!”

“Not interested.”

Always wanted to say that. No one knows the reference here, so I can go wild.

“Aaagh!” Cute-Face charges again, frustrated. I wait till the last second, letting him think he’ll hit, then trip him again.

After ten repeats, he learns, stopping his reckless charges.

“I’ll crush you!”

He grits his teeth, giri, gripping the sword. That’s some spirit. Gotta take notes.

“Take this!”

“Oh?”

He feints a charge, kicking up sand for a blind. Mixing it up, huh?

“Gotcha!”

Still just charging. No change.

“Subhuman Kick!”

“Guboah!”

With Renkan-ko sharpening my senses, I can read this blindfolded.

I counter with a front kick, timed perfectly. Key is kicking casually, with a strong vibe.

Do! Go!

My laid-back kick sinks into his stomach. A beat later…

“Hyu!”

“Oh.”

Hyurururu…

Uh-oh. He’s flying. His body’s bent in a V mid-air.

Dongaragasshaan!

After a long flight, he crashes into the training ground’s wall. Not moving.

“Turk!”

The girl adventurer rushes to the boy I launched. That’s his name, right?

“Nice distance! Someone patch him up.”

Razu-san sounds like he’s at a baseball game. So chill. I did it, but… is he okay?

“…Ugh, guh.”

“Turk! Thank goodness…”

The girl confirms he’s conscious, relieved.

“Kei, nice kick. No killing intent, totally relaxed.”

Bestelta claps, pachi-pachi, praising me. Was it that good?

“Thanks. How’re you doing?”

“Me? Bored to death. Rather be picking Kos-Tea.”

Bestelta yawns, fuwaa, flicks her hair, and thumbs behind her. Her casual moves are so cool—like a supermodel mixed with a beast king’s regal vibe.

I stare, then look where she’s pointing.

“So strong…”

“What hit us…?”

“My legs…!”

A pile of bodies. Not dead, but groaning young adventurers sprawl out.

“Pathetic doesn’t cover it. They call this adventuring? An insult to adventure.”

Bestelta fumes, puri-puri. Wanna knead that puri-puri butt.

“They’re beginners, cut them some slack.”

“You were strong as a beginner, Kei.”

Was I? My first fight… Flame Bear was just a greeting, so Dai Orcs? Was I that good?

…Oh, maybe I was strong in breeding battles with demi-humans. Just enduring, though.

As I muse, the freckled girl snaps at me.

“You! That was too much! Turk’s hurt!”

“Pamela, stop it.”

Freckles flushes, yelling. The chubby beastman fumbles to mediate.

“Guh… my ribs…”

Turk groans. Did I kick that hard? Feeling bad now.

Razu-san just shrugs, “Handle it.” This guy…

Guess I’ll fix it.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to go that hard.”

“No way! You’re jealous of Turk’s potential, you coward!”

Freckles spits, yelling. Cute, so it’s fine. Reward shower?

“No jealousy, just a misunderstanding. Here, let me help.”

“Don’t need it! Peh!”

I try to help Turk, but she spits on my hand. Lotion?

“Don’t touch him!”

“Pamela, that’s too much.”

Chubby, don’t stop her. Let her keep going—it’s fine. Could I sell this spit?

“What are you doing?”

A purple shadow rises silently behind Freckles.