"Hey, hey, hey! Where are you looking?!"
Noticing Wayne's wandering gaze, Villy shook her raised fist and jabbed the pervert right in the gut.
Wayne grunted softly. Soft and feeble—she couldn't even put weight into a punch, yet she called herself a mage.
Keep going if you've got the guts; he promised not to hit back!
Villy said, "Senior Chris has been swamped lately—her mentor suddenly dumped a new assignment on her. Veronica is buried in her thesis and reports, so she asked me to deliver your gift."
"Don't you have a thesis and reports to rush?"
Wayne found that curious. He recalled that Villy and Veronica were roommates, and both were nearing graduation.
Could it be that this girl was an academic overachiever?
Then again, her gay act had been frighteningly convincing; she clearly had a knack for picking things up.
"Nope! I can just copy Veronica's report, and my name's co-authored on her paper. When the time comes, all I have to do is sign." Villy beamed, without a single shred of shame.
Wayne: "..."
Classic you. Right in line with my stereotype of big-busted girls.
Villy and Veronica's graduation thesis wasn't an ordinary college paper, but rather an inner academy theoretical evaluation of the students' magical studies, which allowed co-authorship. The practical assessment was even simpler: bust a pagan den and submit an operational report.
As Veronica's roommate and best friend, Villy had conveniently offloaded the heavy burden onto Veronica's shoulders under the guise of "trust."
As for Evanston Women's College's secular graduation thesis, how could a mage let mundane affairs tie them down? She had shamelessly convinced Veronica to flex her financial superpowers, and that paper was already taken care of too.
Seeing the girl brag without the slightest embarrassment, Wayne couldn't help shooting her an envious—no, contemptuous—glance.
Must be nice. He wanted a financial superhero to save him, too. He wanted to cling to Veronica's golden thighs, too.
"So, where's the gift?"
"At my place. Come with me—guaranteed satisfaction!"
"..."
Phrasing it like that really makes a guy's mind wander!
***
The gift Villy prepared was at her home—or more accurately, it was something Wayne had to choose for himself.
A carrier bird!
For a mage, carrier birds used for communication were indispensable. They were not only trusted companions, but could also be used to cast certain specialized spells.
The tradition of carrier birds had a long history, and even after the invention of the telephone, the practice endured.
In the taxi, Villy explained that the carrier bird was only part of the gift—a welcoming gesture from the three of them to congratulate him on obtaining mana and becoming an apprentice mage with a bright future.
The gift wasn't expensive, but it wasn't something money could simply buy on the open market. Many wild mages couldn't find a source even on their knees and had to spend years breeding their own.
Wayne, on the other hand, could pick from fully trained ones, find a bird attuned to him, and take it home once he filled out the paperwork.
Villy chattered away incessantly, rambling and drifting from topic to topic like stepping on watermelon rinds. Wayne had to listen for quite a while before piecing the facts together.
The carrier birds were bred by the Triple Goddess Alliance and gifted only to followers of the three goddesses. Veronica and the other two had signed a letter of guarantee on Wayne's behalf, allowing him to claim two carrier birds ahead of time.
One for the day and one for the night—a day-use model and a night-use model.
"Sounds like sanitary pads..." Wayne muttered under his breath.
Once the cab pulled over, he got out behind Villy and arrived on a bustling street.
The North District of the City of Londan, also known as North Londan, was not the Central District where the powerful and nobility congregated, but together with the West District, it housed Londan's middle class, several times wealthier and more prosperous than the East District where Wayne lived.
The streets in the North District were exceptionally wide; even the sidewalks could comfortably accommodate three cars driving side by side. Yet, like all streets in Londan, it suffered from a glaring lack of greenery.
As for urban greening, a green belt act had been passed a couple of years ago, but the urban layout was already firmly set, leaving no open ground to plant trees in the short term.
The taxi stopped in front of a gymnasium with a brutally straightforward name: Strength and Faith Fitness Center.
Wayne was surprised that gymnasiums already existed in this era, and even more surprised by Villy's bombshell: this gym was her home.
Villy pushed open the door and stepped inside. Wayne followed behind, only for a wave of scorching heat to hit him squarely in the face. His vision blurred, and tears nearly pricked his eyes.
*So hot. In the dead of winter, are they burning a boiler in here?*
Wayne rubbed his eyes. A spacious gym outfitted with various vintage machines materialized before him.
"Vintage" was only by Wayne's standards. For this era, the gym was fully equipped with every conceivable piece of professional equipment, unquestionably cutting-edge.
Horizontal bars, dumbbells, barbells, stair steppers, rowing machines, punching bags, bench press racks, a ring...
Next door was a women-only workout area, and further back, through glass doors, a swimming pool was visible.
A few refined-looking fitness enthusiasts were pumping iron in the equipment area, each attended by a hulking musclehead coach providing one-on-one guidance. The trainers were uniformly dressed in white uniforms—sleeveless tank tops and shorts. Their exposed muscular definition was so chiseled and angular that looking at them made one instinctively want to mind one's manners.
Average height: two meters. Everyone: bald.
Even if they had thick hair, none of it grew on their heads.
In the ring, two idle coaches were locked in a wrestling grapple, clad only in shorts. Muscle rubbed against muscle, sweat collided with sweat, radiating sheer, suffocating tension.
Before long, a bald man with a scarred face gained the upper hand. Utilizing superior ground technique, he pinned his opponent underneath and locked him into a chokehold, completely taking control of the match.
The thick muscles of his arm were hard as bedrock, coiling shut like a giant python. His trapped opponent's face flushed crimson, yet he stubbornly endured, refusing to tap out.
Around the ring, seven or eight other coaches and gym members spectated, cheering, shouting, or swearing profusely as they debated how they would counter the hold if they were in the ring.
Their voices were deafeningly loud—an outright racket—so much so that Wayne couldn't hear a peep from the two combatants, though his eyes let him vividly imagine the squelching slap and rub of flesh on flesh.
"I'm baaack~!" Villy cheered, waving toward the ring.
"Oh, it's Villy!"
"You're back!"
"Why so early today? No school?"
Coaches swarmed in from all directions. Overflowing with warmth, honesty, and kindness, they beamed dopily, flashing pearly white molars at everyone they met.
Quickly—astonishingly quickly—in practically the blink of an eye, the coaches formed an airtight ring around Villy.
Or more precisely, around Villy and Wayne.
A blast of ferocious body heat slammed into his face, carrying a pungent musk that was downright hostile to Wayne's hound-sharp sense of smell. And... whether it was his imagination or not, he felt as if this bunch of muscleheads harbored immense hostility toward him. Lurking behind those honest, dopey smiles were hideous mugs that looked like ravenous demons.
Wayne couldn't help shivering. This was no place to linger; grab the gift and get the hell out.
Villy didn't notice a thing. To her, everyone was just as warm and hospitable as always, and she was sure Wayne would love her family. She answered the coaches' questions one by one, quickly becoming so dizzy from the barrage that within a few spins, she was smoothly nudged right out of the encirclement.
"Wait, where did everyone go?"
"Wayne, come with me to... huh? Where's Wayne?"
Wayne was next door in the coaches' break room.
He had seen it with absolute clarity: these hulking behemoths had used hypocritical smiles to distract Villy, and the instant she was out of the way, they bared their vicious fangs at him. Shoving and crowding together, they had hoisted him into midair between pectorals and biceps, marching him straight into this "next door."
"Kid, you seem pretty tight with Villy!"
"When did you two meet? Come on, tell your uncles."
"Young man, what line of work are you in? How old are you? Have you graduated? Ever had the experience of getting beaten into a cripple by a mob?"
"Don't be scared—none of us are good people!"
"Jie-jie-jie—!" x N
(눈_눈)
Deadpan, Wayne finally understood why Villy's gay impression had been so spot-on, so vivid it hadn't felt like acting at all. Turns out it was a product of her living environment.
If he wasn't mistaken, every last one of these steaming muscleheads was a worshiper of the Goddess of the Sun.
So this was a stronghold of the Goddess of the Sun's followers. No, given their faces and general aura, calling it a "den" was far more fitting.
Close call. Thank goodness he had pledged allegiance early and prostrated himself beneath the Goddess of Moonlight's white, translucent, openwork lace nightgown.
"Out of the way, all of you! This is Villy's guest. What's with all this racket? What if you frighten him?!"
A pair of massive hands parted the crowd, radiating stifling heat as their owner stepped up to Wayne. Even among a crowd where two meters was the average height, his colossal physique towered above the rest. Just standing there, he cast an imposing shadow, resembling a giant next to the one-meter-eight Wayne.
"I'm Kean Dick, head coach here. Just call me Coach Dick. Young man, you must be Wayne?"
Coach Dick grinned, flashing blindingly white teeth.
A jagged scar ran from his forehead down to his chin like a centipede crawling across his face. When he smirked, the centipede squirmed.
It was the scarred bald man from the ring.
"Speak up! Our boss asked you a question!"
"Shut up! I said be polite to Villy's guest!"
Furious, Dick whirled around and threw a punch, not even bothering to check who had spoken, simply picking the nearest unlucky bastard and sending him flying.
*Crash!* The randomly selected victim was embedded straight into a metal locker.
Wayne: (눈‸눈)
What was this, a show of force?
Heh. Did they think he was born yesterday?
To be completely frank, he had only seen Villy as a buddy. But based on the stunt these uncles were pulling today, he was definitely going to make Villy cry her eyes out in the future!
"Pay them no mind, just a bit of fun. After all... this is the first time Villy has brought a boy home. Especially one as cute as you." Dick patted Wayne's shoulder, smiling with utter warmth and benevolence.
*Centipede wriggling vigorously.jpg*
Wayne: ∑(O_O;)
*Message received.* To be completely frank, he treated Villy like a bro. Rest assured, uncles: in the future, even if Villy took the initiative and did all the moving herself, he wouldn't move an inch!
"Have you guys seen Wayne?"
A knock sounded on the break room door, and Villy poked her head inside.
"Haven't seen him!" x N
"I'm here!"
Wayne shot his hand up, terrified that if he was a second too slow, that scatterbrained girl would close the door and walk off.
Pushing through the crowd, he hurried toward the doorway. But after just two steps, a thick, beefy arm clamped around his neck from behind.
Dick leaned in close against Wayne's head and smiled. "Villy, your friend is quite a character. Very funny guy. Everyone likes him a lot."
"That's great! I was worried you might bully him!"
"How could we?!"
"Not a chance!"
"Hahaha, we'd never bully anyone..."
"Exactly, exactly!"
Amid the chorus of hearty laughter, Dick leaned in and whispered a warning audible only to Wayne: "Watch yourself, kid. My eyes are on you at all times. You know what I mean!"
"Dick, what are you whispering over there?" Villy frowned, yanking Wayne behind her.
The little white bunny threw her arms out, protecting the big bad wolf.
"The coach said I'm a great guy. Since I'm your friend, he's offering me a free gym membership so I can work out here for free from now on," Wayne chimed in to smooth things over, seeing Dick's awkward expression.
"Really? Tell the truth!" Villy was somewhat skeptical.
She wasn't stupid—just not that sharp.
"Of course it's true." Dick seized the lifeline, nodding vigorously. He threw Wayne an appreciative glance and chuckled.
*Kid, you sure know how to read the room!*
Wayne nodded back. *Go ahead, laugh. Laugh while you still can, old man. Let me congratulate you a year in advance—you're about to move up a generation!*
Chapter 23