Chapter 690: They Are All My Wings! Misaka Mikoto Flees in Dismay!
"Who am I?"
"Where am I?"
"What... exactly am I doing right now?"
Misaka Mikoto sat slumped against the wall in the corridor, her legs drawn up to her chest, hugging her knees. Her eyes were blank, staring at the intricate wooden grain of the floorboards, but seeing nothing.
She had no idea why she was still sitting here.
Logic dictated that she should have run away hours ago. Her brain, usually sharp enough to calculate firing trajectories in microseconds, had short-circuited.
Just beyond the thin sliding door behind her back, something utterly despicable was happening.
Something shameless. Something loud.
And she was sitting by the door, listening to the whole thing like some kind of pervert!
Thump. Thump.
Her heart was pounding so hard she feared it might synchronize with the rhythmic sounds coming from inside.
"It's been... hours," she whispered, her voice trembling. "How do they possess that kind of stamina? Are all cultivators monsters?"
Her body felt feverish. A flush had spread from her neck all the way to the tips of her ears. Static electricity crackled uncontrollably around her bangs, snapping with soft zzt sounds.
She tried to think about math. She tried to think about Gekota.
But the voices...
Specifically, the voice of Tushan Yaya. That small, bratty fox girl had suddenly... changed. One moment she was a child, and the next, a mature, sultry woman's voice was crying out in a mix of joy and plea.
"This is insane. This is absolutely insane."
Creak!
Suddenly, the rhythmic commotion inside ceased. The silence that followed was even more deafening than the noise.
Before Mikoto could scramble to her feet, the sliding door was pulled open without warning.
A gust of warm, scent-laden air rushed out from the room. It smelled of heavy musk, sweet perfume, and something inexplicably electric—the scent of high-density spirit energy.
Ren stood in the doorway.
He was wearing a loose bathrobe, hastily tied. His hair was slightly damp and messy, sticking to his forehead. His chest was exposed, revealing faint scratches that were rapidly healing.
He looked down at the girl huddled on the floor, blinking lazily.
"Why are you still—here?" Ren asked, his voice raspy and deep.
"!!!"
That single sentence was the spark that ignited the powder keg.
Misaka Mikoto scrambled up, her face instantly turning the color of a ripe tomato. Sparks of blue electricity exploded from her hairpins.
"How dare you ask me that, you... you animal!"
She spun around, intending to yell at him, to lecture him on morality and decency. But as she turned, her gaze betrayed her.
Through the gap between Ren's arm and the doorframe, she saw the interior of the room.
It was a battlefield.
Bedding was strewn everywhere. But what caught her eye was the stark, undeniable whiteness of bare skin. Tangled limbs, fox ears twitching in exhaustion, and tails—fluffy, massive fox tails—draped over curves that glistened with sweat.
She saw it. Again.
"Ah... Ahhh... Ahhhhhh!!!"
The scream died in her throat, coming out as a strangled squeak.
Mikoto covered her eyes, but the afterimage was burned into her retinas.
Ren shrugged indifferently, leaning against the doorframe with the casual arrogance of a king surveying his domain. "Is there a need to be so surprised? It's just the natural order of things."
"Huh?!"
Mikoto peeked through her fingers, her gaze shifting from shock to pure disgust. She looked at him as if he were absolute trash.
"How could you do that to them?! Three sisters! At the same time! Are you insane?!"
Ren tilted his head. "How, you ask? Well, technically, it requires excellent breath control and—"
"I'm not asking for the technical details!" Mikoto stomped her foot, the floorboards groaning under the impact of a minor electromagnetic pulse. "I mean morally! Ethically!"
"Oh, that." Ren yawned, stretching his arms. The movement caused his robe to slip slightly, revealing more toned muscle. "They fell in love with me. I merely reciprocated their love with equal intensity. Did I do anything wrong?"
"But love... love can only be for one person!" Mikoto retorted loudly, her worldview clashing violently with the reality in front of her. "You can't just... divide it! Don't you feel guilty treating them like a collection? It's shameless!"
In her world, in her academy, romance was a pure, singular thing. It wasn't... this.
Ren looked at her with amusement. He had long passed the stage where he needed to validate his existence to others. He was an Administrator, a traveler of worlds, a being who transcended common sense.
He stepped closer to her, his shadow looming over her petite frame.
"Biribiri," he said softly. "Everything you say is right, according to your world's laws."
"But here? They are all willing."
Ren smiled, a smile that was both gentle and terrifyingly greedy. "I have hundreds of girlfriends across the multiverse. I don't subtract love; I multiply it. I can satisfy them all, protect them all, and cherish them all."
He spread his arms wide.
"They are all my wings."
"Hundreds..."
Hearing this exaggerated number, Misaka Mikoto's brain completely shut down.
Hundreds?
Did he just quote a mecha anime line unironically?
And the worst part was, looking into his eyes, she knew he wasn't lying.
"Especially the word 'willing'," Ren added, glancing back into the room.
Mikoto followed his gaze despite herself.
Inside, Tushan Honghong, the imposing Demon Emperor, was curled up like a kitten. Tushan Rongrong had a satisfied smile on her sleeping face. And Tushan Yaya... the one who had been shouting the loudest... was clutching Ren's discarded shirt as if it were a treasure.
Even Yaya, after growing up in a burst of spiritual power, had taken a big gulp of wine from her infinite gourd and shouted, 'Don't leave me alone! It's not fair! I want Ren-gege too!'
And then she had rushed in like a cannonball, regardless of the consequences.
In this situation, Misaka Mikoto found that her moral high ground had crumbled beneath her feet.
She had no right to criticize if the 'victims' were accomplices.
Realizing that she had absolutely nothing to say, and feeling like a clown for standing guard outside a harem scene, Mikoto felt tears of frustration pricking her eyes.
She lowered her head, hiding her burning face.
"I... I'm going back!" she mumbled in a muffled voice.
"I'm done with this! I'm done with you!"
Zap!
Choosing to end their journey together abruptly, she tapped into the Chat Group's teleportation function. With a flash of blue light and a crackle of electricity, she instantly vanished from Ren's sight, fleeing back to Academy City.
"Heh heh, how young."
This fleeing appearance made Ren shake his head and smile wryly. She was still a middle schooler at heart, unable to process the complexities of adult greed.
"She'll understand eventually."
He turned back to the room. The air was thick and heavy, a testament to the dual-cultivation session that had just occurred.
He glanced at the three sleeping figures on the massive bed. A mysterious, tender smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"You all rest well," he whispered. "The tribulation is over. Your world is safe."
"It's almost time. I have other matters to attend to. I'm going back too."
With a soft hum of energy, Ren stepped into the void, disappearing from the Tushan Fox Domain.
Silence returned to the room.
But not for long.
On the bed, Tushan Yaya's blue-purple fox ears twitched.
Slowly, carefully, she opened one eye.
She hadn't been sleeping at all.
How could she sleep? Her body felt like it had been dismantled and put back together. She simply couldn't withstand Ren's monstrous strength towards the end and had chosen to strategically feign unconsciousness to survive.
If it didn't stop, she felt she would really break into a thousand pieces.
"He... he's gone?"
Yaya let out a long breath of relief, her chest heaving.
"Eh?"
After fully opening her eyes and trying to sit up, Yaya froze. A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with her ice magic.
She recoiled significantly, pulling the silk sheet up to her neck.
Because directly in front of her, two pairs of eyes were staring at her.
Tushan Honghong, with her majestic golden hair spread out on the pillow, was watching her calmly.
Tushan Rongrong, with her narrowed, fox-like green eyes, was smiling. But that smile... it was the smile of a predator.
"Sister... Rongrong..." Yaya stammered.
The atmosphere was tense.
For no other reason than the fact that Yaya was currently in her adult form.
Gone was the petite, flat-chested child. In her place was a stunningly curvaceous woman, a cold beauty whose figure rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, her sisters. Her curves were exaggerated, perfectly fitting the 'Cool Onee-san' archetype.
"How did she do it?" Rongrong murmured, her eyes scanning Yaya's figure critically.
Slap!
"Kyaa!"
Rongrong reached out and indignantly slapped Yaya's perky, exposed buttocks. The sound was crisp in the quiet room.
"Yaya, that's too much," Rongrong said, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Stealing a march on us like that."
Even Honghong nodded, sitting up slowly, the sheet slipping to reveal her shoulders. "It really is too much, Yaya. Rongrong and I came first. We were handling the situation. Why did you force your growth and snatch the food?"
This Yaya had completely snatched the food without regard for her life—or the queue!
They were enjoying themselves, finding their rhythm with Ren, and suddenly Yaya had burst in, drunk on power and wine, pushed them aside, and demanded to be eaten.
"And you were so... enthusiastic," Rongrong teased, poking Yaya's side. "I've never heard you make sounds like that before."
"Uh..."
Yaya immediately broke out in a cold sweat. Her face, usually cold and aloof, burned with a crimson blush.
She clearly realized how out of line she had been. Her memories of the last few hours were a blur of pleasure and recklessness.
Her gaze frantically searched for an excuse. It landed on the shattered remains of her clothes scattered on the floor, and the iconic Infinite Wine Jug lying on its side.
A thought flashed through her mind.
"I... I just drank too much!" Yaya stammered, pointing at the gourd. "Yes! That's it! I was under the influence of alcohol! I didn't know what I was doing!"
"You drank too much?"
Honghong and Rongrong exchanged glances.
They both saw a million doubts in each other's eyes.
They would believe anyone else who said they were drunk and made a mistake.
But Yaya? This girl was the Wine Immortal. She practically lived with that gourd in her mouth. Her tolerance was infinite. For her to be "drunk" enough to lose control was impossible.
"She's lying," Rongrong's eyes seemed to say.
"Definitely lying," Honghong's eyes agreed.
But looking at their little sister, who was now hiding under the covers in shame, the two older foxes softened.
What was done was done.
And truthfully... sharing Ren with Yaya felt more natural than sharing him with an outsider. The connection between the three sisters had deepened through the dual cultivation. Their spiritual energies were now intrinsically linked with Ren's.
Honghong sighed, a soft, indulgent sound. "Forget it. We were already sisters bound by blood."
She reached out and pulled Yaya into a hug, sandwiching her between herself and Rongrong.
"In the future, we'll just be even closer sisters."
Indeed, closer.
They were already honest enough to see each other completely, inside and out.
Especially with Ren as the center, the 'fluid' exchanges of energy and affection were more than enough to bind them together for eternity.
Rongrong blushed slightly thinking about it, but she snuggled closer. "Next time, though, wait for your turn, Yaya."
Yaya, buried in her sister's ample chest, showed a rare sign of shyness.
"Mmm..." she squeaked.
[Location: Main World - Ren's Villa]
The morning sun filtered through heavy velvet curtains, casting a dim, golden light across the room.
"Hmm..."
On the massive king-sized bed, a figure stirred under the duvet.
Kobayashi groaned. She felt like a truck had run over her head, backed up, and ran over it again.
Slowly, painfully, she sat up. Her messy red hair was sticking up in a dozen different directions, and her eyes were the quintessential 'dead fish' eyes of a salaryman with a hangover.
"Hiss!"
She clutched her forehead. "I drank too much again yesterday... Makoto really doesn't know when to stop pouring..."
Kobayashi was used to this kind of life. Work, drink, sleep, repeat.
But the dizzying sensation in her head from the hangover felt different today. It wasn't just alcohol; it felt like her brain was vibrating.
She rubbed her eyes and instinctively patted the bed, looking for her alarm clock.
Her hand brushed against the sheets.
Kobayashi froze.
The texture was wrong!
This wasn't her cheap, scratchy polyester blend. This was silk. High-thread-count, expensive, cloud-like silk.
She didn't remember her home's blankets being this soft, silky, and comfortable.
At this moment, some fragmented images flashed through her mind like a broken film reel.
A dark mountain road.
A giant, bleeding beast.
A Dragon?
And a man... stepping out of the air?
"Maybe it was a dream," she muttered, trying to rationalize. "Yeah, definitely a dream. Dragons don't exist."
But... where was she now?
She finally opened her eyes fully and looked around. The surrounding environment left Kobayashi bewildered.
This wasn't her cramped little apartment.
It was a luxurious, spacious room with tasteful decor. The furniture looked expensive. The air smelled clean, not like stale beer and instant noodles.
"This definitely isn't my home!"
"You're awake."
A male voice spoke from right beside her.
"Wah! A ghost!"
Kobayashi yelped, scrambling backward until her back hit the headboard.
"Don't make such a fuss," the voice said calmly. "Weren't you very brave when you walked right up to a dying dragon yesterday? Where did that courage go?"
"Huh?"
Kobayashi blinked, her heart racing. She stared at the man sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was handsome, young, and looking at her with a calm amusement.
"Yesterday... a dragon!"
Wasn't that a dream she had?
How did this person in front of her know the content of her dream?
Ren saw her looking uncertain and panicked, so he introduced himself. "Ren. You can call me that. I'm the owner of this house."
He poured a glass of water from a carafe on the nightstand and handed it to her.
"You're currently experiencing a blackout," Ren explained efficiently. "So, to put it simply: last night you got drunk, missed your train, wandered up a mountain road, and encountered an injured dragon from another dimension."
Kobayashi took the glass mechanically, her brain struggling to keep up.
"Then," Ren continued, "I arrived, dealt with the dragon's problem, and, since you were passed out on the ground, I brought the drunk you home."
"Yes, this is my home."
"Ah..."
Kobayashi's mouth gradually widened.
Because the information Ren simply laid out completely overlapped with the fragments in her mind.
The green scales. The massive eye. The sword sticking out of the dragon's back.
That wasn't a dream?
Kobayashi quickly reached down and pinched her arm. Hard.
"It... it really was a dream," she muttered.
Because it didn't hurt at all. She felt the pressure, but no pain.
"See? No pain. I'm still sleeping."
Ren merely chuckled, shaking his head. "That's not because you're dreaming. That's because of the gift."
"Gift?"
"The Holy Sword that injured that giant dragon," Ren said casually, as if talking about the weather. "It was a divine construct. Instead of throwing it away, I casually fused it into your body to stabilize you."
"So, your body now possesses the power and constitution of the Holy Sword. A simple pinch won't register as pain anymore."
He reached out and pointed a finger at her chest.
"Look."
Kobayashi looked down.
She felt something gush out from deep within her heart—a warm, majestic sensation.
Points of golden light surged from her chest, swirling and dancing in the air. They coalesced rapidly, forming the spectral shape of a magnificent, golden Holy Sword hovering in front of her.
The room was bathed in a holy radiance.
"Holy Sword..."
Kobayashi instinctively murmured, her eyes wide with shock. As the light touched her, her mind was suddenly filled with information—ancient techniques, the sword's history, and its power.
It wasn't a dream.
She, a regular office lady, had become the vessel of a Holy Sword.
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