Chapter 1792 – The not-so-Small Tournament 13 – Harpy, Shortstack, Fairy
Not a bad strategy, admittedly, as it forced powers above and below to take them into the calculus. Most politicians were happy with an average degree of attention and would follow the examples set by more ambitious people up the hierarchy.
All of that was in the Hudson Barrier. Here, John had an adorably upset shortstack circling a table and a pair of winged women on top of him. Nightingale was always ready to cuddle. That Momo joined was a rare treat. The fairy sat with her head on his shoulder, both of them reading on their devices, while Nightingale hugged them with her wings and watched a podcast on the tablet standing on the coffee table. It was the whole package of cozy.
“Is it just me or is watching Delicia losing her marbles adding to the relaxation factor?” Momo asked.
“No, I am 100% with you,” John said.
“It draws a contrast between us and anger,” Nightingale added.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Delicia screamed and bunched up her short hair. “I DON’T GET IT, I DON’T GET IT, I DON’T GET IT AND I HATE IT! WHY! WHY DO YOU CATCH ON FIRE YOU STUPID COMPOUND?! YOU SHOULD BE STABLE! THE ONLY LOSE PARTICLE HERE IS RIGHT THEE-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrre…. Am the big stupid.”
“Yes,” Nightingale agreed first, then asked, “Why?”
“Urgh, the loose particle collapses into the rest of the stable compound and turns it into…” Delicia grabbed a piece of paper to run the alchemical calculus. “Garadin’s Tears… no that still doesn’t make sense, that should make it a liquid if anything… oh, but we have Red Fulgurite in excess that reacts to the… oh… oh… Ooooooooohhhh… urgh…”
“Bad news?” John asked.
“The line of research I have been following for the last two months is apparently useless – unless I want my mutagens to also deliver electric shocks and cause anyone over 10% body fat to spontaneously catch on fire.”
“So practically everyone,” John pointed out. He doubted that even he was under 10% body fat. That was a level of lean that was unhealthy for most people. Maybe, just maybe, he had been that lean when he had been the beanstalk that had hung out in his room all day, because his genetics were weird like that. Since he now had muscles that worked best with some fatty tissues around them, Gamer’s Body would have given him the optimal degree for fitness.
As a man, he at least had a chance to get under 10%. For women that number was only achievable by walking up to death’s door.
“Back to the brewing stand,” Delicia sighed and left the model behind.
“Right now?” The question had the bratty maid stop and turn to John.
“What, does Master need me to stay, hmm?” She was right back to her cheeky self, raising a hand in front of her face to deliberately fail at hiding her grin. “Can’t live without a maid in the room? Don’t worry, she may be the inferior housekeeper, but Momo is right there!”
“Inferio- I clean way more than you do!” the fairy maid shot back.
“Awww, listen to her taking pride in that!” Delicia turned the tease to another direction without missing a beat. “Too bad you can’t cook or do the laundry though.”
“I can, I just never get assigned to it!”
“So you’re doubting Aclysia’s skills at assigning work now, hmmmmm?”
“Ugh…” Momo recoiled in defeat. “I have perfectly adequate skills in both fields!”
“Psh, adequate isn’t good enough and you know it.”
Momo opened her mouth in retort, then suddenly let out a flat laugh. “Heh… why do I even try to let me tease you? Your primary utility is slathering John in soap.”
“Which is ironic, since you’re built like a washboard,” Delicia joked.
“Flat is justice and we all know I got it where it counts in this harem.” Momo gave her own butt a squeeze. “All you got is attitude and a genius understanding in a field that’s third rate in usefulness.”
“Awww, listen to this one, she thinks she can deride alchemy.” Delicia lifted her nose a little higher. “Want me to stop creating those fancy papers your office has been using?”
“Want me to stop buying one of the few reasons you can justify your abhorrent funding? Seriously, how many labs can one shortstack blow up in a month? I think your record is three?”
“I can blow up as many labs as you hold speeches, stutter fairy.”
The back and forth of sassy and bratty jabs came to an abrupt end when the Harem Comms opened in front of Momo. “Speaking of Aclysia assigning us to things,” she announced and got up. “I just got a new task… or an old task… ah, whatever, I need to do something for the household.” She smirked at Delicia. “Guess ya gotta stay now.”
“I guess so,” Delicia agreed.
“When did you introduce the rule that there must always be a maid around me?” John wondered.
“It’s not a hard rule.” Momo stopped in the doorframe. “Itsbecauseweloveyoubyeeeeeeeeeee!” The slurred words were immediately followed by the door closing behind her, leaving the trio to themselves again.
‘Wonder what Aclysia wants her to do,’ John thought, then got up himself. “Guess what I want to do now?”
Nightingale guessed the answer first, “Go to the bath.”
“Yu-p.” John let the p pop for extra emphasis. “Cleaning maid, you are obligated to come along.”
“Oh no, the horror,” Delicia declared dramatically. “My pure body will be used for a purpose most defiling. There’s no way this monkey of a man will be able to keep his hands off me!” She smirked at him. “Right? Riiiiight?” Arms under her boobs, she pushed them up and pulled his eyes into their orbit. The twin globes may as well have been planets with how much attraction they created.
“What do I have maids for if not to fondle them all over?” John asked.
The trio moved from the living room to the bath. Like all his baths, it was practically a spa in its extensive luxury. A specially crafted tub served as his place of dwelling. Water pooled in it only to a shallow level, but cycled quickly, making it optimal for the kind of service he received in it. It was also broad enough that Nightingale could cuddle up next to him without issue, while Delicia rubbed her body all over his. Alchemical processes within the Natural Spirit created liquid soap that soon covered her curves.
“Alright… Semi-finals tomorrow,” he thought out loud. “Any bets you want to place?”
“It is obvious that the finale will be Hypercrush versus Justinian;” Nightingale answered. “The drug-addict will defeat Anna. Their power difference is too much. Justinian versus Ankleshanker I expect to end the same way.”
“Latebloomers will be lateblooming,” Delicia agreed.
“Sure looks that way… You should go with Hailey when she goes to talk to the Splatterknight by the way,” John changed the topic to something more interesting. “His Innate Ability is self-augmentation. Maybe you can pick up some biomancy secrets by studying him?”
“Mmmmhmaybe.” Delicia’s voice was tinged by arousal. It could not be said that having the shortstack clean him with her body was a selfish endeavour. The bratty maid enjoyed it a whole lot and she didn’t hide it either. Her hard, sensitive nipples glided over his half-submerged chest, causing her to gasp every time they bumped over his muscles. “Enough about me and my alchemy stuff. Gale, what are you up to?”
“Networking, as per usual,” the harpy answered. “Do you want details?”
“Spill the tea, feather-arms.”
“The ladies Luna and Sol have agreed to attend my next tea party. I endeavour to use this as an opportunity to connect the monarchists and republicans in the Parliament. By listening to the tales of the goddesses, the monarchists should see the drawbacks and the republicans the advantages of an imperial system. It will serve to ground both sides.”
“I don’t know if that is going to work out as you want it to,” John cautioned. “Sol is definitely pro-monarchy and I hazard a guess that Luna is, at the very least, not pro-republic.”
“My hopes for the talk are just that: hopes. I have no goal to achieve. To manipulate the conversation would be unjust.” Nightingale rubbed her naked thigh against his left leg. “Whatever will be the outcome of those talks, I will accept as long as they are genuine. Are you dissatisfied with that, my patriarch?”
“I’m afraid those two may further propagandize people to the monarchist side,” John confessed.
Displeased, Nightingale clacked her teeth right next to his ear. The aggressive sound had John tilt his head away. “I allow no propaganda in my gatherings,” she reminded him in a stern tone. “Genuine – talks, that is what I seek. If they persuade with their arguments then that is proper.”
“Can’t argue with that,” John surrendered on the point. “I’ll be interested to hear what comes out of it, whatever it is.”
“And I’ll be happy to tell you, my patriarch,” Nightingale cooed.
And the night ran its course.