The big guy led the way, holding the unsheathed sword like it was an extension of his arm. The elf kept his cloak pulled forward, eyes glowing with that hateful green light. The bald man, meanwhile, rubbed his crude tattoos like they were genuine power amulets.
Three against one.
Min-Jae's mind didn't give in to panic. On the contrary. It worked like a living spreadsheet, opening rows and columns to organize data.
[Status: Analyze Target].
The interface opened before him in translucent windows, the edges glowing a cold blue.
[Status]
[Name: Durgan]
[Class: Warrior (Class D)]
[Race: Human]
[HP: 400 / 400]
[Strength: 20]
[Agility: 12]
[Vitality: 18]
[Skills:]
• Brutal Charge (Cooldown: 30s)
• Relentless Defense (Cooldown: 45s)
• Intimidating Roar (Cooldown: 60s)
Eren didn't lift his head. He didn't need to. The data slotted into memory like puzzle pieces he already knew.
Brute strength. Low intelligence. High cooldowns. Frenzy is an offensive buff but lowers defense. Brutal Charge has recovery lag. Roar is area, but predictable.
[Status]
[Name: Faeron]
[Class: Hunter (Class C)]
[Race: Half-Elf]
[HP: 320 / 320]
[Strength: 12]
[Agility: 22]
[Vitality: 14]
[Skills:]
• Predator's Focus (Cooldown: 20s)
• Enchanted Shot (Cooldown: 40s)
• Quick Trap (Cooldown: 35s)
Faeron is the real threat. Superior agility. Quick Trap forces immobilization. Predator's Focus is advanced vision but drains mana. Enchanted Shot requires minimal casting.
[Status]
[Name: Toruk]
[Class: Barbarian (Class D)]
[Race: Human]
[HP: 380 / 380]
[Strength: 22]
[Agility: 10]
[Vitality: 20]
[Skills:]
• Frenzy (Cooldown: 60s)
• Bonecrusher (Cooldown: 45s)
• Demoralizing Roar (Cooldown: 50s)
If one of them uses a skill, just retreat. Cooldowns leave them vulnerable afterward. But…
He lowered his gaze to himself.
[Status]
[Name: Eren Vale]
[Class: Beast Tamer (Class E)]
[HP: 132 / 132]
[Strength: 7]
[Agility: 8]
[Vitality: 9]
[Intelligence: 11]
[Skills: None]
[Bound Monster: None]
No skills. No contract. Basic stats. Direct combat impossible.
The slime cowered behind him, trembling, utterly useless without a contract.
Even with a bond, it's just a basic-level slime. No useful attack.
The big guy stepped forward, sinking into the mud with a heavy squelch.
"What're you waiting for? Say something, you piece-of-shit Tamer!"
Eren didn't answer.
Provocation. Trying to force an emotional reaction.
"Shaking with fear, huh?" the big guy bellowed with laughter. "No little guards now, no druid. No point crying! It's just you... and us!"
Eren raised an eyebrow, his voice low and cold.
"The correct phrase would be 'you and we.'"
"Huh?!" The big guy looked confused.
Eren sighed with cruel patience.
"Your speech is too colloquial. I'm just correcting it so you don't embarrass yourselves in the formal confession afterward."
The bald man's mouth dropped open.
"Confession?"
"When you're arrested."
The elf ground his teeth, rage pulsing in the veins of his neck.
"Son of a bitch."
And he was the first to move.
The world turned into a green blur as Faeron activated Predator's Focus, his eyes narrowing into cruel slits. Min-Jae noted the glow, the greenish light.
20-second cooldown. Enhanced vision. But high mana cost. Duration: 10 seconds.
He stepped sideways, dodging the shot. But the big guy came roaring in, swinging the sword.
Eren didn't have time to dodge completely. The improvised blade scraped along his side.
The pain was real. Hot.
He gasped, grinding his teeth, but his brain didn't stop.
Brutal Charge activated. 30s cooldown. Vulnerable after failure.
He threw himself backward, hitting his back against a wet tree. The slime beside him vibrated in panic.
Faeron spat, preparing another arrow.
Quick Trap being set up.
Eren took a step forward, forcing Faeron to back off.
Minimal space reduces chance of casting.
The bald one came running from behind, raising an improvised club.
Eren twisted sideways, but the blow landed on his shoulder. The crack was clear.
Pain radiated like fire.
He fell to his knees.
Frenzy not yet activated. Cooldown available. They're holding back.
The slime tried to slither forward to cover him. A trembling, pathetic mass.
Eren gritted his teeth, forcing his body to turn.
Vision blurred with sweat and blood.
Minimal options. Throw rock. Refuse direct combat. Force cooldowns. Retreat. Their ambush designed for melee.
Another kick came from the big guy. This time to the stomach.
Air blasted from his lungs like a forced sigh.
He fell onto his side, feeling the cold mud on his face.
Don't pass out. Keep analyzing.
The voices echoed, muffled.
"Hold him!"
"Don't let him run!"
"I'm gonna split this fucker in half!"
Eren coughed blood. His ribs protested.
Low vitality. No damage absorption. No defensive skills.
He rolled his eyes, focusing on the slime. The creature quivered, bubbling, doing nothing.
No contract. No command possible. Completely passive. He thought fast. If I had a bond, it could absorb some of the damage. Act as a living shield. Planning failure.
Another kick to the kidney. The pain was blinding. He let out a low groan. But he didn't stop thinking.
Active cooldowns: Brutal Charge and Predator's Focus. Estimated time for next coordinated offensive: 15 to 20 seconds.
The big guy laughed.
"Are you gonna cry, little Tamer?"
Eren spat blood and mud.
"No time."
"Huh?!"
Eren rolled to the side, dodging another kick.
High aggression. Low coordination. Poor communication. Tactical flaws.
He sat up on the ground, breathing hard. Mud clung to his torn tunic, his hair dripping dirty water. His hands trembled, but his eyes were locked in.
Analyze weaknesses. Exploit cooldowns. Force mistakes.
He lifted his gaze to them, blood dripping from his lip. The slime clung to his side, vibrating weakly.
Minimal utility. But distracting.
Eren took a deep breath.
Plan needed. Immediate.
Their voices echoed like down a tunnel.
"Let's finish him."
"Knock his teeth out!"
"Don't let him get up!"
A boot slammed into his chest, smashing him into the muddy ground. A low, uncomfortable crack echoed in his already battered ribs, and Eren Vale let out a muffled sound, like air escaping from a busted bellows.
The big guy grinned down at him, dirty teeth glistening with spit.
"Get up, you piece-of-shit Tamer. Get up so I can knock you down again."
Another kick, this time to the side of his hip, made Eren's vision shake. Black spots danced at the edges of his eyes. The world spun in nauseating circles, and the taste of blood filled his mouth—metallic, acidic, unmistakable.
[Status].
He forced the interface to open, even as sweat ran down his forehead.
[Status]
Name: Eren Vale
HP: 47 / 132
More than 60% loss. Critical condition.
Another blow struck his shoulder, pressing his collarbone into the ground. He clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt.
Reduced mobility. Slower response. Total vulnerability.
Above him, laughter. That half-elf with his hood now thrown back, pointed ears exposed, laughed like a drunken hyena.
"Look at him squirm! You guys see this? He looks like a worm!!
The bald one with his crappy tattoos stepped forward to deliver a more theatrical kick, aiming for the already-battered ribs.
"Gonna cry now, Tamer? Gonna call your little slimy buddy for help?"
Slime.
The thought cut through the pain for an instant.
[Status: Slime].
He forced the interface open in the corner, flickering slowly like a candle about to go out.
[Monster: Slime]
[HP: 80 / 80]
[Strength: 4]
[Agility: 3]
[Vitality: 5]
[Skills: None]
[Properties: Malleable Body, High Impact Resistance, Basic Digestion]
[Affinity: Low]
Useful properties.
Another kick, this time to his thigh, temporarily paralyzed his leg. He let out an ugly, guttural sound, saliva mixed with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
But his mind kept working.
Malleable body. Impact resistant. Low strength, but defensive utility.
Another stomp to the stomach. He almost vomited.
Consensual contract. I need acceptance. I need the ritual.
Their mocking voices felt more distant, as if he were sinking into dirty water. But he still heard them.
"Look at him drooling!"
"Disgusting."
"Stomp him more!"
The elf bent down, grabbing Eren's chin hard.
"Where's your pet? Not gonna save you?"
The big guy spat to the side and raised his leg for another kick, aiming with cruel precision at Eren's exposed ribs.
The boot came down hard, crushing his chest into the waterlogged mud and tearing a ragged, gasping groan from him. Pain exploded in hot waves, making the air unbreathable for an instant.
Vitality falling. Motor response impaired.
He tried to turn his face to avoid swallowing mud, but the weight of the boot pinned him down. The bald one was approaching from the side, laughing with teeth stained and filthy, gripping his club with grotesque anticipation in his eyes.
That was when he felt something cold, soft, and heavy spread across his back.
The slime.
With a wet, muffled sound, the amorphous body spread over him, molding itself like an improvised protective layer. It vibrated in spasms, trying to thicken to resist the blows, but it wasn't enough: the slime covered part of Eren's back and shoulders but couldn't seal everything.
The boots of his enemies sank into the translucent flesh, pushing it aside, squashing it with wet, squelching noises until they struck Eren's own flesh and bone beneath.
He grunted with every impact, his lungs burning for air.
But the slime didn't stop. It vibrated almost desperately, emitting wet hissing sounds, pseudopods stretching out to try and cover more of him. Every attempt failed, the mass simply redistributing with a weak plop when crushed.
Useless effort. Marginal defensive efficiency.
Another kick slammed into his hip.
Eren ground his teeth. Blood trickled from his mouth into the mud, mixing in a grotesque pattern. He wanted to move, but his muscles barely responded beyond small spasms.
Then he felt the slime squirm on top of him. As if it trembled in fear and begged at the same time. Eren blinked, gasping.
Contract. Access to abilities. Useful properties. Total submission. He inhaled mud and blood, coughing violently, his throat burning. Without a bond it's useless. Without a contract I die here.
Another kick, weaker this time—the big guy was getting tired of beating him.
"Is he dead already? Fuck, kid's hard to break."
The elf came closer, voice venomous.
"We want to hear him beg."
Need to get out. Need a contract.
Eren spat blood to the side.
Their boots buried into his flesh and the wet mud at the same time, every impact reverberating through his cracked ribs like the sound of old branches breaking.
Eren Vale kept his eyes half-closed, not from weakness—but to narrow the world to what he needed to see.
Analyzing: Three attackers. Irregular rhythm. Pattern: random, rage-driven.
Pain was a fixed datum. He catalogued it. Ignored the iron taste in his mouth. Another kick came high, aiming at the Tamer's ribs.
Right leg of the big guy. Wide movement. High center of gravity.
He tensed his already battered muscles and curled an inch more than before. The kick slipped at a wider angle than intended, losing force, splashing more mud than bone.
The bald one advanced right after, shouting insults with thick spit flying from his yellow teeth.
Improvised club. Short length. Force limit in lateral swing.
Eren twisted his hip as the club came down. It still hit his shoulder but slid off at a bad angle. Pain, yes—but less than it could have been.
Toruk, the bald one, didn't get it. He thought Eren was trying to crawl away.
He laughed.
"Ain't gonna work!"
Eren didn't answer. His brain throbbed with calculations engraved in pain:
Dagger on his belt. Dominant hand: right. Belt loose on the left side.
Another heavy kick from the big guy.
One reckless move. Balance compromised.
He didn't try to dodge. Instead, he held his breath, tensed his muscles, and let the blow toss him half a meter sideways—bringing him closer to the bald one.
Eren's elbow rammed into Toruk's thigh. The bald man prepared for a punch.
His arm lifted. Flank exposed.
Eren rotated his hip, ignoring the protest of cracked ribs. His mud-caked hand slipped to the side of the belt, fingers feeling quickly.
Dagger confirmed. Leather loop loose.
Toruk noticed only a second later.
"Hey!"
Eren already had his fingers wrapped around the hilt.
Another kick from the big guy—Eren saw the motion in the corner of his eye.
His leg flexed. High angle. Counter-move window.
He let himself go limp to the side, using the momentum to yank the dagger in a circular move. The blade scraped the leather with a harsh sound, tearing free with a sudden jerk.
The big guy's leg whooshed through where Eren's torso had been a second before, kicking only heavy air.
Toruk yelled: "Drop it!"
Eren ignored him. Still on the ground, he rotated his shoulder with sickening cracks, pointing the blade upward. His eyes locked in with absolute focus, cold as the bottom of a dry well.
Minimal distance. Free angle. The blade is mine.
He breathed. The dagger's tip gleamed with blood, trembling with his exhaustion spasms.
Mutual consent. Ritual. I need blood.
His vision blurred. His heart pounded against his ribs.
No hesitation. No more calculations.
With a raw, inhuman-sounding growl, he stabbed the blade into his own hand. Blood burst in a hot, thick gush, mixing with the mud that caked everything. The slime quivered almost frantically, emitting wet, eager noises.
Eren forced his voice out.
"Here."
The three enemies froze for an instant, their laughter dying.
Symbolic ritual. Shared blood. Mutual consent. Condition satisfied.
The slime didn't hesitate anymore. It lunged, wrapping around the bleeding hand with a wet, obscene sound. Pseudopods coiled around the wound, drinking in the blood greedily, trembling as if in spasms.
A weak, sinister glow lit the mud around them, lines of invisible runes forming in the air like living smoke.
The interface flashed cold and clinical in Eren's mind:
[Consensual Contract — Established.]
The blood shone with an unnatural light, invisible runes forming in the air while the slime vibrated with wet, muffled sounds.
The translucent mass shifted over Eren in a slow, almost lascivious motion, gaining clearly feminine contours—large, shining breasts with opaque nipples, a defined waist, wide hips, and thick thighs that dripped like living gelatin.
Completely nude and see-through, she panted above him, sliding over his blood-soaked chest, liquid hair draping over her shoulders while two huge, luminous eyes locked onto his with shy embarrassment—plump, wet lips parting in a submissive sigh.
"M-M-Master..."
The enemies stopped laughing. The big guy pointed with a trembling finger.
"What... the fuck... is that?"
Eren felt energy coursing through his body. The pain didn't vanish, but it dulled. His muscles felt less rigid, more elastic, as if the force of the impacts was being absorbed. He took a deep breath, cracking a bloody smile.
Now... it's different.
Eren Vale was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm while blood pulsed in his temples like a heavy drum.
He felt the cold mud clinging to his elbows and knees, mixed with dried blood and the sticky dampness of the environment. But even panting, his mind didn't stop.
He blinked, forcing the interface to appear despite his blurry vision. The blue windows flickered before him, slightly trembling as if the system itself was winded from the freshly-forged contract.
[Consensual Contract — Active]
[Participants:]
[Eren Vale]
[Slime (Transmuted)]
[Benefits (Eren):]
[+50% Consensual Attributes]
[Property: Malleable Body (Limited Stretch)]
[Property: Impact Resistance]
[Benefits (Slime):]
[+50% Consensual Attributes]
[Property: Humanoid Appearance (Human Base — Eren Vale)]
[Property: Advanced Digestion]
[Bond: Absolute Submission]
[Eren frowned, ignoring the throbbing pain in his injured shoulder.]
Human appearance... copied my base.
He turned his head to the side, even if he couldn't fully rise, and saw the creature—no longer an amorphous puddle—kneeling there, her chest pushed out into two gently quivering translucent globes with each embarrassed, heavy breath.
He sighed.
Copied my human traits. Contract specification failure. Should've written clearer visual rules...
The slime-girl blinked at him, still breathing heavily, her bust rising and falling in awkward embarrassment.
"M-Master... w-what do you want me to do?"
Eren rolled his eyes internally.
Absolute submission. Useful property.
He checked the second part of the contract:
Advanced Digestion.
Before, it had been Basic Digestion—just enough to eat trash. Now...
Potential for real damage. Improvised combat tool.
He flexed his fingers, trying to stand. His arm ached, but he noticed something strange. His muscles moved in an elastic, weird way. He rotated his wrist slowly and watched his skin yield more than it should, like stretched rubber.
Limited stretch. Not true long-range attack, but gives extended reach.
He forced his hand to close into a fist. The resistance was lower. The weight felt better distributed.
Property: Malleable Body. Impact Resistance active.
As he staggered upright, still unsteady, the big guy finally shook off his initial shock. He gritted his teeth and pointed his unsharpened sword.
"What the fuck is this, huh?! Tamer witchcraft?!"
Eren ignored him for a moment, turning instead to the slime-girl.
"Attack the target with lowest vitality."
"Y-Yes!"
She hesitated, but the submission was etched in the bond. Her bright eyes locked onto the bald, tattooed man, who immediately went pale.
"N-No!" he stammered, stumbling back.
The slime smiled shyly and advanced. Her body reshaped as she moved, legs turning into flexible gelatin columns that molded themselves to avoid sinking too much in the mud.
She grabbed him with surprising force. The bald man screamed, thrashing. But the gelatinous mass spread over his torso and arms. He screamed as his skin reddened, blooming like a severe sunburn.
"AAAAAHHHH! Get it off! Get it off me!"
The big guy and the elf recoiled in horror as they watched the man's clothes dissolve. Fabric shredded into limp fibers while his skin blistered.
"GET IT OFF!"
She continued, obedient but not fast enough to kill him outright. Advanced digestion wasn't pure acid; it was a slow corrosion, causing red welts and superficial burns.
Continuous damage. Potential for restraint. Low immediate lethality. More torture than true DPS.
The elf tried to lift his bow, but Eren turned to him, still panting. He bent down, picked up a rock, and closed his hand around it, feeling the extra weight.
Improvised weight. Concentrated mass.
He stepped forward twice and flexed his arm. He felt the joint yield and stretch, the elbow extending like rubber.
The elf's eyes widened, trying to draw the bowstring, but Eren let the punch fly.
The fist shot out like a spring, the rock crashing into the elf's jaw with a wet, dull crack. There was a snap. The bow fell first. Then the elf himself, limp as a puppet with cut strings.
[Enemy Status: Unconscious.]
The big guy swallowed hard.
"W-What the..."
Eren turned slowly, his arm shrinking back with a wet squelch. He bared his teeth in a filthy smile, blood dripping from split lips.
"Next?"
The big guy dropped the sword.
"Enough! That's enough! We surrender!" He raised his shaking hands.
"The correct phrase is we surrender."
The big guy's eyes went wide, hands trembling as he tried to lift the half-burned friend like a limp mud-soaked ragdoll. His voice rose in a pathetic, panicked squeal.
"Whatever! Fine! Sorry! We were wrong!" He choked as he looked at his friend screaming like a slaughtered pig, his skin covered in grotesque blisters and red welts. "Fuck, stop! You're gonna kill him!"
Eren narrowed his eyes, analyzing the scene with clinical coldness.
Killing would be simple. Decisive. It would avoid direct revenge.
His chest rose and fell slowly, each breath bringing the metallic taste of dried blood.
But leaving corpses here isn't the same as clearing logs. It creates trails. Witnesses. Rumors.
The cold mud seemed to want to drag him down, but he kept his posture straight, breathing slowly, eyes on the big man trembling in sheer terror.
Within the system, reputation affects future interactions. Buying. Selling. Quests. Discounts. Information.
The bald man screeched in pain, unable to form words. The slime-girl was over him like a living extension of Eren's will, following orders to the letter.
Explicit murder sinks reputation. Marks you. The cities remember. The NPCs spread it.
His memory recalled old game screens. Red markers blinking over names. Blocked quests. Tripled prices. Guards attacking on sight.
In the short term, eliminating them is the logical move. In the medium and long term, strategic loss.
Eren's cold eyes moved to the slime, who watched him with absolute submission, ready to continue.
My class is already trash. Any reputation point is an advantage. Even the smallest. Sparing lives here isn't morality. It's cost-benefit.
The mud around him was thick with clotted blood and scraps of torn fabric, darkened by dried blood still dripping from Eren's cuts in heavy, sticky strands.
The distant sunlight was just enough to sketch his outline like a monster standing tall — unmoving, a specter bathed in red.
He breathed slowly, each inhale sounding like the restrained growl of an animal too big to fit inside its own chest.
His arm dripped blood mixed with thick mud, the elbow swollen, purple bruises spreading like dead roots. His stance, however, was straight. Solid. Unbroken.
His messy hair covered part of his dirty face, a heavy fringe plunging one entire eye into shadow. Only one eye shone beneath it, a cold point of reflected light burning like a live ember.
He raised his hand, firm despite trembling with pain.
"Stop."
The slime immediately retreated from the bald man, who collapsed to his knees on the ground, gasping, his skin red like undercooked meat. He sobbed, his tattoos burned into twisted lines.
The big man dropped to help his friend up, still stammering apologies.
They were all shaking. The big man held the burned bald man like a limp puppet, while the elf panted quietly, knees trembling as if they might buckle. The sound of insects around them seemed to fade, cowed by the smell of blood and fear.
Eren didn't blink. His fixed stare was as sharp as the improvised blade he had driven into his own hand.
"We... we'll go, okay? Please."
He moved slowly, with the precision of something inevitable. Each step made the mud creak, his bent knees absorbing the impact like a stalking predator.
His arm hung at his side but still vibrated with contained energy, his fingers half-closed in a heavy fist.
When he stopped, he lifted his chin slightly. His breath sounded like wind whispering through ruins.
"Li-listen... please... don't kill us... t-take this... it's our loot... everything we got..." He held out the filthy sack, coins clinking with a muffled metallic sound, his eyes wide and pleading. "It's yours, okay? A-all yours... just... let us leave alive."
"Leave." Eren stared at them with razor-sharp eyes.
The big man swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing like a silent confession.
"Okay. Okay."
Eren didn't look away. That single visible eye glinted like a blood-soaked blade.
"And one more thing."
The trio froze. The burned man's ribs heaved too fast, like a panting dog. The big man turned carefully, holding his limp friend like a sack of rotten meat.
Eren tilted his face slowly, his filthy hair sliding aside to create even darker shadows that hid everything — except that single glowing eye, fixed and merciless. His voice came out low. Cold as metal forgotten in ice.
"Don't tell anyone about this."
The big man shook his head frantically, his neck cracking with the motion, eyes wide like a cornered animal.
"We won't! I swear!"
Eren inhaled slowly, a wet, dragging sound in the silence. Then he stepped forward — his arm cracked with a grotesque sound of rearranging joints, stretching like living rubber. The sound was wet, sickening.
His muscles stretched in unnatural ways, shadows writhing around the elongated form, creating the impression of something impossible, no longer purely human.
"Because if you do..." his voice rasped like a dull blade dragged across stone. "I'll know."
The big man shuddered, legs shaking like thin branches in the wind.
"Okay. Okay!"
Eren didn't answer. He just stood there, a bloodied figure with a single eye glowing under his matted hair, impervious to the cold, the pain, and the fear.
Together, they hoisted the unconscious elf, dragging him like a sack of potatoes as they stumbled along the muddy path back to town.
They left behind only deep grooves in the mud and the acrid scent of fear.
Eren watched them go with clinical care, eyes narrowed, tracking every unsteady step and every muffled groan from the defeated as they limped back toward the village, carrying their unconscious ally like a cursed burden. The tracks in the mud told the entire story: humiliation, fear, and defeat.
He drew a painful breath, feeling the cold air cut into his raw lungs like knives. His muscles screamed in protest, his ribs felt cracked in multiple places, and the dried blood formed an uncomfortable crust on his skin. Even the arm with the contract's elastic property throbbed with fatigue.
[Status].
The interface flickered, confirming what he already knew.
[HP: 47 / 132]
Critical state. Mobility impaired. Limited offensive capability. Slow natural recovery.
Eren lowered his gaze to the sack dumped in the mud. The leather was dirty, heavy with moisture and dried blood, but he picked it up with a calm, slow motion. The sound of coins clinking was muffled, heavy, full of promise.
He opened it with a dry snap, inspecting the contents with the same cold gaze he'd use to analyze a corpse.
The interface glowed in his vision with a pale, almost mocking tone.
[Items Obtained]
[37 Silver Coins (various mintings)]
[4 Worn Gold Coins]
[Iron Dagger (chipped blade)]
[Wooden Amulet (no magical properties)]
[Reinforced Leather Strap (used, semi-rotten)]
Eren let out a slow sigh.
Poor, but useful. Better than nothing.
He closed the sack again, the leather creaking in protest.
And it was in that moment of silent assessment that he sensed movement beside him.
The slime-girl — or rather, the translucent feminine form that now displayed almost human contours — was approaching with uncertain steps. Her hands were clasped in front of her, fingers twisting nervously, her generous bust rising and falling with a false liquid sigh, her gelatinous hair swaying in semi-liquid strands.
Her eyes — large, slightly glossy, almost pleading — met his with clear hesitation.
"M-m-master..." Her voice came out in a low, almost wet whisper, as if she were afraid to interrupt his thoughts.
Eren raised an eyebrow, turning his head toward her slowly, his gaze fixed, analytical, almost clinical. She shivered slightly.
"I... can I... can I... hug you?"
For a moment, Eren didn't answer. He simply stared at her, thoughts grinding like rusty but relentless gears.
Physical contact. Odd. Potentially ritualistic? Contract property?
He inhaled, chest aching.
"Why?" he asked, voice dry but not harsh.
She lowered her translucent gaze, her greenish cheeks darkening as if blushing with liquid shame.
"I want... to help."
He studied her for another second. Analyzed her posture — hunched, submissive, fingers writhing. The system link still glowed like a chain carved in runes: Consensual — Absolute Submission.
I see no immediate reason to refuse. Test of property. Unexplored variable.
He gave a slight nod.
"Okay."
The slime-girl seemed to light up with contained excitement. She let out a relieved sigh, stepping closer with careful movements to avoid splashing too much mud.
When her arms wrapped around him, Min-Jae immediately felt the contrast: cold and wet like a midnight lake, yet surprisingly soft. The contours of her breasts pressed against his chest, creating a strange cushioning sensation.
Viscous consistency. No skeletal structure. Flexible adaptation.
But it was the system that interested him most. He felt a subtle tingling spread across his skin — like a warm, wet current being injected into his veins.
[Alert: Vitality Transfer Initiated.]
On the interface, the numbers changed:
[HP: 73 / 132]
Approximate 20% recovery. Unilateral transfer. Basic efficiency.
The slime-girl sighed again, pressed against him, her face buried in his shoulder as if ashamed to be so close.
"D-did I help?" she murmured, barely audible.
"Yes. Good girl," Eren said, passing his hand over her head as if petting a dog. He could swear the slime's surface turned faintly red.
Property confirmed. Limited healing capacity via consensual transfer. Potential application in prolonged combat. More tests needed.
His eyes narrowed slightly as the cold wind licked his face, caked with mud and dried blood.
Utility acquired. Variable controlled.
And even there, almost buried in the mud, with his chest aching and clothes torn, Min-Jae closed his eyes for a moment, letting the slime-girl continue that strange, comforting hug, while his mind kept turning, always calculating the next move.
I need more information.