The massive disruption caused by the sudden appearance of the Eight Thunder Gods made it impossible to continue the exhibition match between the Sixth and Seventh Units. With several personnel injured, the event was officially called off.
The final result was declared a draw, as each unit had secured one victory in the preceding bouts.
Even though Naoki had anticipated this chaotic scenario, he couldn't hide a flicker of disappointment at missing the chance to test the protagonist's strength firsthand. A nagging curiosity lingered in the back of his mind—just how strong was the man dubbed "the protagonist"? Unfortunately, the answer would have to wait for another time.
After Kyouka and Tenka finished a brief discussion regarding the report to the Anti-Demon Corps high command, the Sixth Unit finally decided to return to their own headquarters via a portal opened by Tenka.
Upon arriving at the Sixth Unit base, Sahara immediately stretched her limp body. She raised both arms high, a movement that inadvertently accentuated the swell of her breasts against her tight uniform. The fabric looked almost too small for her frame, and Naoki quickly averted his eyes—not out of bashfulness, but because he knew Yachiho would lodge an immediate protest if he were caught staring.
"Hwaaa... today was a total drain, mentally and physically." Sahara complained, letting out a wide yawn that made her eyes water. "I just want a hot bath and then to sleep as soon as possible. My skin feels so sticky."
Yachiho chimed in, tossing her twin-tails with a sour expression. Her usually confident face looked a bit crumpled, like a piece of paper that had been balled up and smoothed back out.
"What a disaster of a day. Getting beaten by my own little sister is a total blow to my dignity as the elder." She bit her lower lip for a moment before adding fire in her eyes, "Just watch, starting tomorrow, I'm training ten times harder!"
As Naoki prepared to sink into the plush sofa of the main hall—his body nearly surrendering to the comfort of the foam—Tenka suddenly snatched his hand and pulled him back up with surprising strength, despite the gentleness of her touch.
"Wait a second, Naoki-kun." Tenka said with a sweet smile, her eyes dancing with the mischievous glint that only appeared when she was planning something fun. "Since everyone is sweaty and dirty after today's events, I have a proposal. How about we all take a bath together?"
A momentary silence blanketed the room. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather the silence of everyone processing the implications of the offer.
Yachiho straightened her back, assuming her usual confident posture. However, a faint flush crept up her cheeks—though she'd take it to her grave if anyone pointed it out. "I don't mind. It's just a bath, nothing to be ashamed of."
After all, in her mind, she and Naoki had already engaged in much more intimate acts for the sake of their "pregnancy objective," so a shared bath was hardly a milestone. Or at least, that's what she kept repeating in her head to convince herself she wasn't nervous.
However, Yachiho then glanced at Sahara with a look of doubt. It wasn't jealousy—she would never admit to that—but rather a sense of concern for a fellow woman. She knew how naive Sahara could be about these things.
"But I don't think that's a good idea for you, Sahara. It seems a bit inappropriate for a man and a woman who aren't close to bathe in the same room."
Surprisingly, Sahara met the concern with total nonchalance. She waved her hand dismissively, her movements heavy with the onset of sleep.
"Oh, I don't mind bathing with Naoki-san at all."
"I've already realized you're in a relationship with him too, Yachiho. And seeing as the Chief isn't angry at all, that means this isn't some dirty affair, right? I just don't want to feel left out by myself."
There was a tickling honesty in Sahara's statement. To her, the world was much simpler than others imagined. If everyone here was already comfortable with one another, why complicate something as simple as a bath?
Hearing how generous Sahara was, Naoki could only marvel internally. He glanced at the blonde girl, who looked half-asleep yet showed zero signs of hesitation. Her drowsy eyes gave off the impression that she was more worried about losing sleep than being naked in front of a man.
(Even in an ecchi anime scenario, it's rare to find women who willingly agree to bathe with a man without excessive drama. I have to say, the women in this world are remarkably open-minded,) Naoki thought.
Tenka suddenly clapped her hands once, the sound breaking Naoki's reverie. A playful smile adorned her beautiful face. There was a certain satisfaction in her eyes—like a cat that had successfully convinced its friends to play along with its whims.
"Well, since the girls have agreed, what do you think, Naoki-kun?" she asked, tilting her head playfully. Her long black hair swayed softly with the movement. "Do you mind bathing with the three of us? Just a reminder, a woman's bath takes much longer than a man's~ You'll have to be prepared to soak with us for quite a while."
Naoki shrugged casually, looking at the three beautiful women in front of him one by one: Sahara, who looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up; Yachiho, trying to look composed while the tips of her ears turned red; and Tenka, smiling with an enigmatic, total confidence.
"As a man, how could I possibly refuse when the beautiful ladies in front of me have already given the green light?"
"I'm not some cowardly anime protagonist who's going to run away in fear or faint just because of a situation like this. If you don't mind, then I have no reason to decline."
Tenka chuckled at his answer, the sound ringing like a small bell in the morning. "Ufufu, that's a classic Naoki-kun response. Not a hypocrite and always ready for a challenge. That's exactly what I like about you."
Yachiho could only let out a soft huff, folding her arms under her chest while giving him a snide look. Yet, anyone observant enough would see that her pouting lips were twitching into a slight curve—not out of anger, but because she felt Naoki's answer was exactly right. "Hmph. Stop watching so much anime, Naoki. Just so you know, the otaku stereotype in society isn't exactly flattering."
Despite her sharp tongue, she showed no sign of wanting to cancel the plan. Instead, she took the lead toward the corridor leading to the bath area, as if to prove she was the most prepared among them.
Meanwhile, Sahara seemed to have already tuned out the bickering. She stood with slumped shoulders, her eyes heavy and half-closed. If Tenka hadn't placed a hand on her back to guide her gently, she probably would have tripped over something on the way.
And so, without further debate, the group—three beautiful women and one man—stepped together toward the Sixth Unit's bathing area. Their footsteps echoed in the silent corridor, punctuated by the hiss of automatic doors sliding open before them.
◆━⊰✿✧✿⊱━◆
The atmosphere in the changing room suddenly felt much tighter as the four of them began preparing to wash up. A space usually occupied by only one or two people now had to accommodate all four, and the warmth of their bodies began to fill the previously cool air.
Without a shred of awkwardness, the three women began to shed their Anti-Demon Corps uniforms one by one. Their movements were synchronized yet reflected their individual personalities—Yachiho with the precision of a noblewoman accustomed to proper dress, Sahara with the sluggishness of someone nearly asleep, and Tenka with the fluid grace of a confident leader.
Naoki stood there, trying to remain calm and maintain his dignity as a man who was "used to this," even though the scene before him was the kind of fan service he usually only saw in 2D animation.
Yachiho was the first to remove her uniform top. Beneath the stiff fabric, she wore a striking magenta-purple bra. The design was intricate, with ruffle accents along the top and pale white edges that emphasized its contours. Its bold, low-cut design felt both elegant and provocative, a perfect match for her self-assured personality as an Azuma. Almost unconsciously, she puffed out her chest slightly—a gesture clearly intended for Naoki.
Beside her, Sahara removed her clothes with lazy motions, almost as if she were shedding a blanket on a cold morning. She wore a minimalist white bra, devoid of excessive decoration—something practical and comfortable, mirroring her approach to most things in life. The soft yellow trim around the edges provided a bright, fresh touch, contrasting with her smooth but slightly pale skin. She yawned again mid-process, causing her movements to stall briefly before resuming at her usual sluggish pace.
Finally, Tenka was the boldest. She discarded her uniform top with the slowest movements of the three. She revealed a matching black lace bra set with a mesh inner lining. The bra featured firm underwires and full cups covered in intricate floral lace, highlighting her mature silhouette in a dark, alluring way. Catching Naoki's eye for a split second, she gave him a small, knowing smile.
At this point, the three were still wearing their bottoms. Sahara and Tenka wore mid-thigh shorts reminiscent of bloomers, while Yachiho remained loyal to her long skirt that draped past her knees.
In the middle of undressing, Yachiho suddenly stopped. Her sharp eyes narrowed, staring straight at Sahara's chest, which looked incredibly full in her white bra. Her gaze wasn't just a look—it was an evaluation.
"Sahara... did they grow again? What exactly have you been eating lately for them to get that big? Are you eating papaya every day?"
"Nothing special, Yachiho-san... they just grow naturally." Sahara stretching her neck left and right. The movement caused her entire upper body to shift in a way that only drew more attention to what Yachiho was fixated on.
"Maybe because I sleep too much, all the nutrients just go there." She added with a serious tone that made it hard to tell if she was joking or truly believed her own theory.
Yachiho huffed, feeling that answer was entirely unfair to the beauty standards she fought for through grueling physical training and a strict diet.
Meanwhile, Tenka just chuckled at the interaction between her subordinates, her soft voice warming the previously tense air of the changing room. She then shot Naoki a mischievous wink, as if asking if he was enjoying this "opening act." Her brow arched slightly, signaling that this was only the beginning.
If the previous display was the appetizer, the main course began as the three girls, without a hint of hesitation, started to remove their undergarments.
One by one, bras and panties were placed into the provided wicker baskets. The sound of fabric falling was crisp in the silence, punctuated by a breath Naoki didn't realize he had let out.
Now, before him, the beauty of the female form was laid bare in its purest state under the bright lights of the dressing room.
The sight in front of Naoki was a paradise for men—or at least, what most men would call paradise. Yet Naoki, with all the experiences he had gathered since arriving in this world, tried to keep a clear head, even as his focus began to split between admiration and the effort to remain polite.
With a posture that seemed lazy yet fertile, Sahara possessed the largest and fullest breasts of the three. Their shape had a slight, natural weight to them—a characteristic that provided a unique beauty that firmer silhouettes lacked. That natural weight was evident as she moved—even a simple shift of her legs created a soft, mesmerizing bounce with every step. She seemed entirely oblivious to, or perhaps unbothered by, the effect she was having.
Next was Tenka, who possessed a mature and perfectly proportional figure. Her breasts were firm with an athletic yet undeniably feminine curve. Not a single part of her was excessive or lacking; everything seemed to have been perfectly measured by nature. Her graceful movements reflected her strength as a Chief, yet they also held a softness she rarely displayed in public. She stood tall, making no effort to hide anything, as if her body were a work of art meant to be admired.
Finally, there was Yachiho. Though she was the most petite of them, her form was incredibly symmetrical and elegant. Her smaller chest gave off an air of slender, high-class nobility—consistent with her status as a daughter of a prominent house. However, as she realized Naoki's gaze had briefly landed on her, she shifted her stance slightly—a small movement that could have meant "don't look too long" or perhaps exactly the opposite.
What was most captivating—and Naoki couldn't deny noticing—was their rosy peaks. Areolas varied in size: Sahara with a wider, more dominant area that gave an impression of fertility; Tenka with a moderate size perfectly proportional to her shape; and Yachiho with small, dainty areolas. Yet they all shared one thing—a fresh, pink hue like a newly blooming bud, contrasting against their flawless, porcelain-white skin.
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