Dwarf: "You'll do anything?"
Eiron, with a heavy sigh, as if the world were crushing his testicles:
"Umm… fine. Anything—as long as it doesn't involve slaying a legendary dragon atop a snowy mountain like some teenager's fantasy novel. I'm flexible, but I'm not stupid, okay?"
The dwarf made a sound like someone scraping a rusty nail across his metal hip, then said, retreating into his dark corner:
"I want… semen."
Eiron blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then gave a fool's grin and said:
"Sorry… did you say… semen? Like… the juice of life? The noble swimmers? The fruit of the testicle?"
The dwarf nodded, one eye glowing with ancient sarcasm:
"Semen of a man… afflicted with eternal impotence."
A pause that might've belonged to a drama film—if Eiron hadn't muttered slowly like someone had been slapped with a rubber rod:
"…Oh. Oh shit. Oh teenage Satan… I get it now."
The dwarf let out a cracked laugh:
"Hah, I'm starting to believe you really aren't from this world. Locals here take fewer seconds to understand what semen is."
"Semen of a sterile man.
His member only rises in stories.
A rare thing.
More precious than nymphs' gold.
With it… I might be able to reopen the seal of Gilos."
Eiron placed his hands on his hips, shook his head in disgust, and said:
"Damn it, I always suspected dwarves were perverts… That's why I liked elves more—slimmer bodies, less harassment, and their knives are cleaner!"
Then raised a shaky finger:
"Also… hold on… what do you mean 'I'll get the sword'? As in… you don't have it now?!"
The dwarf exploded, his bow slamming into the wall, lips trembling like he'd bitten his tongue:
"Look who's talking about perversion!!
You fake priest, testicle-worshipper, ghoul-masturbator!
You're asking for the Black Gilos, and you dare judge others?!"
Eiron raised his hands again, as if calming an enraged testicle:
"Wait! Wait! I don't even know what this sword is! The system told me the name and I just… clicked 'accept' like any normal dumbass in an isekai!"
The dwarf froze.
He blinked.
Then slowly stepped forward, his single eye drilling into Eiron's soul:
"…You don't know Gilos?
And yet you want it so badly?"
Eiron shook his head:
"I don't know it. Don't even know if it's a sword, a spell, or the name of an enchanted sex lubricant!"
The dwarf closed his eyes like a man remembering a woman who cheated on him with a rusty blade.
He exhaled from the depth of his metal chest and said with a tone like a burning sheet of tin:
"Oh, the shame of metals…"
Then spat. A thick, sticky glob that hit the ground and bounced as if refusing to stay where it landed.
He moved closer, his large nose almost touching Eiron's face, and spat again—this time with intent.
"Bring me the semen of a man who's lost his virility."
His voice sounded like iron insulting someone.
"Or go explode with your testicles like your insane system demands."
Eiron bit his lip.
The taste of blood felt more dignified than anything he'd swallowed since entering this world.
Then he muttered:
"…Semen of a sterile man? Damn… this is harder than convincing a ghoul to wear a bra."
"So?" the dwarf said, repositioning himself behind a table stained with oil and sweat.
"Do you agree?"
Eiron sighed—the groan of a man who's lost his dignity, then his pants, then found himself signing a slavery contract with a dwarf demanding his sperm.
"Sure… it's not like I have weekend plans other than finding a guy who lost his manhood and convincing him to ejaculate into a glass bottle."
Ding!
A transparent panel popped up in front of his face, glowing like a new kind of shame:
[Side Quest Discovered: "Sterile Semen"]
Collect viable semen from a man who has lost all virility
Time Limit: 7 days
Penalty: Permanent testicle rupture
Eiron muttered as he stared at the notification:
"Great… missions are timed now?"
Maybe this one was vital to his progress. One of those missions the system calls "critical advancement" or "the sticky phase."
But he didn't get a chance to think—
Thfff!
A wooden arrow zipped past his head, piercing the transparent panel and vanishing into the darkness like a forgotten threat.
"Out! I want to sleep!"
The dwarf roared as if his testicles were roaring with him, and began reloading his bow.
The sky was black.
The moon withering, trembling behind clouds like a testicle full of regret.
The air damp—smelling like two thighs fighting on a wet bed.
Eiron walked toward Garon's house, scratching his head, cursing the system, the world, and everything tied to the word "semen."
"No matter how hard I try to keep up with this system, I just end up kneeling more. What's its damn problem?"
The backyard seemed empty. Trees asleep. The ground wet.
Eiron lifted himself up, grabbed the window's edge… trying to climb in unnoticed.
But he heard a voice.
"What are you doing out this late?"
He froze.
A feminine voice. Calm. Sharp. Like a smiling razor blade.
He turned slowly.
It was Celia.
Standing in the shadows, wearing a nearly transparent nightgown that revealed more than it concealed.
The fabric light, her pink nipples beneath like two question marks screaming: "Do you dare?"
Eiron swallowed.
His hair stood on end, and something between his legs began to remember its purpose.
"Shit…"
He raised his hand, pretending innocence:
"I was… performing a ritual of abstinence.
Midnight is the best time to purge desire… isn't it?"
Celia didn't move.
Her eyes didn't show anger or sadness.
Just… disgust.
Quiet, measured disgust.
Like she was looking at filth not worth shouting over.
She said simply:
"I know."
But her tone didn't say "I know."
It said: I know you're a filthy bastard trying to climb in to watch or cum on my bedsheets.
Eiron felt his skin burn—not from lust, but from prepackaged shame.
"God… the plan was to get closer to her.
But now? My dick ruined everything.
Before it even got anywhere."
Then—wait a second.
She's here.
Alone.
And he has the system.
Eiron swallowed.
A step back made sense.
A step forward? Perfumed suicide.
But he stepped forward.
Slowly.
The same distance it takes for Scent of Seduction to seep from his skin… into her living cells.
[Scent of Seduction – Level 1: Active]
No immediate reaction.
But her gaze… grew heavier.
As if her whole body was remembering that something warm and rude stood before it.
He whispered, soft as a confession:
"I know you think I'm disgusting… or disturbed. But… what I did wasn't out of lust."
She looked at him.
Caution in her eyes—but no retreat.
He stepped closer.
Two steps this time.
He was now in her full radius.
[Distance: 0.9m – Interaction Probability: +11%]
He touched her arm.
Lightly. Just a simple thumb press on her wrist.
[Touch of Temptation – Level 1: Active]
"I just… needed someone. It wasn't masturbation… it was a cry for help. In a dirty way, yes—but a real one."
Her eyes blinked slowly.
Her lips parted, but she said nothing.
He moved closer.
His breath inches from her ear.
Whispered—his voice dripping gentle lust wrapped in sadness:
"Just like you're here now… alone, at midnight… in a nightgown that hides nothing."
[Whisper of Temptation – Level 1: Activated. Cooldown: 5 minutes]
She didn't move.
Her breathing changed. Deeper.
Her arm didn't pull away from his touch.
In fact… she relaxed slightly. Just for a moment.
He smiled—sadly, wickedly:
"We're not okay, are we?
Me—a lunatic with testicles.
And you… needing someone to remind you that you still exist."
Her eyes widened, then shut quickly—like she was chasing out a thought.
But she didn't chase him out.
His hand slid from her wrist to her elbow.
Slowly. No pressure. Just presence.
He was smelling her hair.
Feeling her breath warm on his neck.
Same moment.
Same body.
Same slow drift toward a mistake.
Then—
Her palm pushed his chest. One solid shove. No violence. Just decision.
She said, in a steady voice, trembling at the edges:
"It's okay."
Electric silence.
"Just don't do it again."
And she turned.
Slowly.
Left behind the scent, the shame, and the heat of untouched skin.
Eiron stood frozen, as if his soul had forgotten how to return to his body.
Then—
Ding!
[Warning: Skill level insufficient to trigger full response from target.]
[System recommends leveling up or changing tactic.]
[Total Interaction Rating: 26%. Outcome: Polite Rejection – Partially Affected.]
Eiron read the message, face a statue between shock and disgrace.
"Partially affected? Is that progress? Or a hint that my junk now has a silent fanbase?"
He kicked a stone without enthusiasm.
Looked at the sky, muttering to himself:
"If only the skill was stronger… just 5% more… maybe she would've…"
But he didn't finish.
Then—another ding.
[30 Special Points deducted.]
[Remaining: 280]
Eiron froze.
"What?!"
He opened the interface quickly, eyes darting between numbers like stray bullets.
"Thirty?! Thirty points… for a touch, a whisper, and a warm breath?!"
He remembered.
That stupid clause he once read and ignored:
"Every seduction skill costs 10 points per use."
Unlike combat skills.
Unlike the Testicle Kick of Doom™.
Those cost nothing.
But lust?
Lust has a price.
"Damn you, system… I didn't even get a kiss… and I lost more points than a knight in a war zone!"
He closed the interface sharply—like slapping his own face.
Sat on the garden wall, exhaling like his heart was leaking the steam of burnt dignity.
"Looks like leveling up isn't optional anymore… it's survival."
He remembered something else.
The store.
That greyed-out button at the bottom of the system menu—still locked.
[Locked – Unlocks at Level 10]
Underneath: A faint line, barely readable:
"Access to upgrade tools and skill enhancements… requires maturity."
"Maturity? What do you want me to do—masturbate with wisdom? Choose targets based on philosophical ethics?"
He stood.
Resolved.
"Alright… next step? Points.
Level.
Upgrade.
And if I have to lick a dwarf's finger to get them… so be it."
He glanced toward the window Celia had disappeared behind.
Smiled.
"Next time… it won't be 'It's okay'... it'll be 'Keep going.'"
Then froze.
"Garon… has eternal impotence."
He laughed, wickedly, as if he'd just seen a treasure map on a woman's back:
"Sterile semen…
Celia…
Two birds, one stone.
Two quests.
One warm bed."