"I'll admit. I'm surprised. You've utterly impressed me." Giving someone a compliment did not suit Sorano in the slightest. Which is probably why his attempt at doing so came across as condescending. All Miia had done was turn the stove on. Sorano's standards were so unbelievably low that he'd expected her to somehow manage to cause a fire just by turning a dial.

To be fair, his lack of expectations wasn't entirely her fault. Based on his own experience, the stove should have indeed spontaneously combusted when she flipped that switch. It would have done so had he been the one touching it.

Immediately following this, Sorano realized exactly where the bar was set. Miia lacked even the most basic of understandings regarding cooking. She didn't even know how to boil water.

Upon learning this, Sorano had to bite down on his tongue to avoid laughing. It was just too absurd.

Ironically, he too lacked the ability to boil water. Again, only because of his inability to use the stove. However, unlike Miia, he at least knew how to do it. Even if he himself wasn't able to in this scenario. Had it been a gas or wood stove he would have been fine.

I shouldn't be surprised. It's not like she would have ever gotten the chance to learn how to cook. Blast her species. They're literally a brood of vipers. If they're not actively copulating, they're avidly working towards doing so. All while having no interest in any other pleasures the world can offer. What kind of single-minded lifestyle is that?

Sorano sighed. He was already regretting his decision to help her. Not because of her being incapable of learning but because it took all of two seconds for him to realize he was far from her ideal teacher.

Not that Kurusu would have been any better. He certainly would have been more patient with her and, unlike Sorano, he would have lacked any preconceived notion of her abilities based on past experiences with her kind. Such an unbiased perspective would have been wonderful . . . had he not been partial to Miia.

Kurusu's rose-tinted view of Miia and her fellow monster girls made him too submissive.

Sorano's pessimistic outlook on life made him too heavy-handed.

A balance between the two was important but to reach such a thing would undoubtedly lead to conflict between Sorano and his host. If it happened during the last full-moon, it'll happen again.

A mediator would help. Someone with a vastly unique perspective on matters. Someone who was neutral on the girls. Someone like . . .

"Smith."

"Heh?!" Miia couldn't help but jump. Sorano had been completely silent for the past five or so minutes. She hadn't been expecting him to just blurt the coordinator's name out for seemingly no reason.

He noticed her shock and, being unable to really show embarrassment on account of both his pride and his muffled facial features, chose to instead simply apologize. "Ah. I didn't mean to startle you. I just stumbled across an idea of sorts."

I doubt Smith can cook either. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. Two amateurs working together to reach a common goal is commendable. And, unlike me, she can at least use the most basic of appliances. I'm sure she can spare some time to help. It's not like she does much to begin with.

"I plan on having the kid teach you. After you're done with my session of course."

The lamia's eyes lit up upon hearing that. As did her cheeks. For some inconceivable reason.

"Then I would like for our dear Agent Smith to spend some time with you."

"Huh?"

"Yes. I think some . . . what do they call it? 'Girl time'? Would do well for the both of you." It was so damn simple. Miia and the other girls lacked one important thing in their lives. Friends. While they could fill that role for each other to some degree, their annoying competition for Kurusu's heart made it impossible for them to connect in the same way they'd be able to with someone who was an outsider to the rivalry.

Finding a genuine friend would make them more well-rounded. Which would mean they'd be generally less incompetent.

As a plus, it might also lead them to spend more time away from the house.

Which meant Kurusu would have less of a chance of being injured/molested.

Which meant Sorano would have more time to slack off.

It was a perfect plan. One that could not fail.

Well, I suppose it could. I will have to rely considerably on Smith of all people and she's not exactly known for her reliability.

But enough of that. Sorano had bigger fish to fry. Not in the literal sense. He'd allow Kurusu or Smith to handle teaching her how to use a frying pan. She'd already scorched him once, and he didn't want to take any chance with hot oil.

No, what they would make now was relatively simple.

"We're going to boil rice."

"Rice?"

"Yes, rice. If I had planned this out better, we could have made a dish like biryani."

"What's 'biryani'?"

"Move to India and you can find out."

"Maybe I can convince Darling to go there for our honeymoon?!"

"Undermining the social cohesion of the Nipponese isn't enough? You want to drive the entirety of India insane with your inane rom-com antics too?" Come to think of it, if Bollywood's any indication, they might find her lunacy endearing.

"What do you mean by–"

Right before she could finish her question, and in doing so continue this droll conversation, the pot sitting on the stove moved.

It was only a small change in its positioning. Something that most people wouldn't have picked up.

Fortunately, neither Miia nor Sorano fits in the category of 'most people'. They weren't 'people', after all. Even with her mind clouded with thoughts of honeymoons and foreign cuisine she caught the pot inching its way ever so slightly away from the burner.

"You saw it as well." It wasn't a question. Even without her sudden descent into silence, the stiffening of the lamia's tail indicated she'd noticed the strange occurrence.

"It's not supposed to move, right?"

"No. Water typically lacks sentience and certainly shouldn't have an instinct of self-preservation. Whatever's gotten itself into that pot has both."

Sorano nodded at how the pot was now slowly scooting its way closer to the top of the stove's edge.

Both liminals stared in awe at the sight before them for a few tense seconds.

"I'll . . . I'll go get Darling! He'll know what to do!"

What a predictable and disappointing response.

"You do that." It was a flippant dismissal of her presence. The tone showing that Sorano couldn't care less about what Miia did.

Honestly it stung, even if Miia shouldn't have particularly cared about the cloaker's opinion of her.

But she could neither respond nor slither away to track down her 'Darling'. Because, right at that moment, the pot's lid launched into another stratosphere.

And with a casual, almost accepting, utterance of "mother of God" Sorano found himself becoming rather intimate with the cause of said pot's activity.

Far more intimate than anyone, besides a woefully depraved cretin or a man with a death wish, would willingly accept.

The battle for Sorano's life began soon after. It was an epic conflict, featuring key moments such as the aforementioned potentially dead man flailing around like a blind man as he tried to maneuver despite being burdened by the weight of the semi-translucent blob that had absorbed most of his upper body.

Miia contributed very little. Unless one considers screaming for help a contribution. Perhaps in some scenarios it could be but, considering the quality of 'help' that arrived, this wasn't such a case.

Cerea tried to 'save' the man by attempting to bludgeon the slime, at this point only she and Sorano had positively identified it, with her dull sword. Upon drawing said blade from its sheathe she realized something was very, very wrong.

Something obvious to anyone who had even the most basic of understanding of how an arming sword is supposed to work. Hell, anyone who knows how a hammer works would identify the problem. The metal bit, in this case that would be the blade, is supposed to be attached to the part you grab, also known as the hilt.

Someone was guilty of sabotage and Cerea had her suspicions of who the guilty party was . . . but her honor dictated that she was to save any who may be in danger. Even if the individual she was trying to help had wronged her, she was duty-bound to do all she could to assist.

As it turns out, there are more than a handful of ways in which she could have done this. Sorano was suffocating because a slime was trying to consume him. A mere glass of scalding hot water would have resolved the situation completely and forced the creature to let go. Or . . . if one had the resources, dry ice could have frozen it solid. If one was particularly crafty, they could have tried using a silica gel packet. The kind one finds in a shoebox.

Point is, there were many ways to help Sorano. And Cerea attempted none of them.

Instead, the centauress heeded the advice of an old proverb her kind passed around.

'When in doubt, perform a murder-stroke.'

Cerea proceeded to try and bludgeon his head in with the blade of her broken sword. Grabbing the weapon by its edges and using it as if it were a club by bringing it down with a force that would have easily rung the bell of a strongman game.

In an ironic twist, the slime saved Sorano's life while still slowly smothering him. Had its squishy form not bared the brunt of the strike he would have left this earthly realm. At the very least the blade would have been permanently lodged within his cranium. Maybe he could have salvaged it by marketing the new look as modern art. He might have become the next fashion trendsetter for all we know.

Such a fate would not come to be. Cerea's broken blade bounced off the slime's body with just as much force as she put into the swing, slipped free from her grasp, and found itself lodged within the ceiling above them like some topsy-turvy version of King Arthur's sword in the stone.

This was just Cerea's contribution to the rescue effort.

At this stage, Miia upgraded from 'shrieking like a banshee' to 'shaking Cerea violently as she babbled incoherently'. It was not much of an improvement but it was still an improvement.

Papi flew into the scene, literally, and crashed headfirst into the cabinet right above the stovetop. Historians would debate for generations whether this crash was a result of her ditziness or the injuries she'd sustained during the full-moon. Whatever the reasoning, her attempt at 'helping' never fully blossomed beyond that initial act.

What her short-lived flight did lead to was a series of unfortunate events that would both simultaneously save Sorano while also scarring him.

You see, several of her feathers came loose from that crash. And they just so happened to flutter down onto the stove below her.

This would have been fine in an isolated incident. These feathers would have burnt up within seconds and done little besides stink up the room with the pungent smell of burning keratin.

Unfortunately, this was not an isolated incident.

Kurusu charged down the hallway at this point. His delay was likely a product of Sorano shoving a bear's head onto his own. Said bear's head was still on Kurusu's and, as a result, he was blindly running into the kitchen to 'help' after hearing his fellow housemates' frantic cries.

While running, he was still feebly attempting to dislodge the bear's head off of him so he could see.

Had he failed, had that bear's head remained lodged in place, this story would have come to its end.

Sorano, flailing around like a headless chicken, would have drowned in a sea of goo.

Cerea would have never been able to fix her sword. The ceiling was just too far away and ladders weren't built for fat asses that weigh a ton.

Miia would have probably been completely fine. If anything, Sorano's untimely demise would have been a boon for her because she wouldn't have to contend with his cockblocking ways.

Papi would have remained retarded.

Smith would have . . . still been enjoying her bubble bath. She'd probably have been fired but even unemployment can't take away the small joys.

None of this came to pass for Kurusu stepped up to the plate and, undoubtedly using his main character powers, became the MVP of the First Slime War.

He removed the bear's head. In fact, he removed it too well.

It came off with a satisfying pop and sailed through the air in a trajectory very similar to the one Papi had just undertaken.

It smacked her right in the buttocks, dislodging her from the precarious position she'd found herself in, her head had gone right through the cabinet's door, and tumbled down into the same stove that was cooking Papi's feathers.

As it would turn out, bear fur is an excellent accelerant. Those feathers, which had already spread the fire beyond the stove's burners, touched tips with the grizzly's decapitated noggin and set the entire damn thing ablaze.

The head, still in motion, decided to then roll off the stovetop. Like some unholy tumbleweed birthed from hellfire, it continued its path across the kitchen floor before coming to a stop near the worst/best possible host for its scorching hot payload.

The one person in the room that was covered head to toe in fabric.

Very, very flammable fabric.

Before Sorano could cry, or attempt to, considering how the slime would have instantly absorbed any tears, at the loss of his bear he was almost torched in much the same way Joan of Arc was.

Emphasis on 'almost'.

Three things happened when his entire pants' leg caught on fire. First, the slime booked it, seemingly realizing that staying attached to a burning man wasn't conducive to its continued lifespan. Second, Kurusu screamed out Sorano's name in an overly dramatic fashion for seemingly no reason. And third, Miia realized she could actually help resolve this massive clusterfuck before the entire house burned down.

So, she used what her mama gave her, her tail, to smother the flame before it got out of control. In the process she suffered some burns, none of which were remotely severe, and slightly improved Sorano's opinion of her.

Testifying to this, his first words after regaining his breath were something along the lines of: "I'm no longer going to sue you over that spilled coffee."

Miia, having completely forgotten about the incident in question, ignored the remark completely and focused on what her Darling was doing. For he had made it into the kitchen right around when she grabbed ahold of Sorano's leg. Had Miia not stepped up to the plate he would have likely done something similar himself. With less satisfactory results.

Or, who knows, perhaps he would have done something smarter like use water. It's what he was currently doing to try and put out the rest of the kitchen.

And that's how the First Slime War came to a close.

The casualty report was surprisingly positive.

For starters, no one died. No one was permanently maimed. And no one was permanently traumatized. Sorano was traumatized temporarily, but that doesn't really matter.

Papi was dazed from the crash but luckily enough her descent from the cabinet didn't have her fall straight into the stove. She just barely missed experiencing the same fate Sorano dodged.

Miia's tail was singed a little. Her scales took the brunt of the damage so it could have been worse.

Kurusu got off completely unharmed. Definitely an unforeseen result.

Lastly Cerea. She's . . . currently gasping for air because the slime decided her face looked like a more comfortable perch than Sorano's.

And that's how the Second Slime War started immediately after the First.

Just like how the 'War to End All Wars' led directly into the Second World War.

It's funny how history repeats itself.

Two soft knocks on the door. That's all it took to ruin his moment. Two soft knocks on the door.

Honestly, Sorano would have preferred it if Kurusu had pounded on the bathroom door like a furious parent. That would have at least verified the necessity of the interruption.

"Sorano? Are you alright?"

The liminal in question was far from alright. He'd just emerged from the bathtub after fully submerging his head into the water for a good five minutes. It was a feeble and flawed attempt to flush out the mucus that clogged his airways. One that ended in a coughing fit of such magnitude that he'd legitimately believed himself to be expiring.

It passed though and with its passing Sorano realized he was no closer to improving his condition than he had been before trying to half-drown himself.

"I–" Just uttering a single vowel resulted in him hacking his lungs up.

"You don't sound good. Let me see if I can get something for that cough."

"N–" What had meant to come out as 'no need' instead devolved into the same horrid cough.

Accursed slime. Why did it have to go for me? My breathing wasn't that great to begin with and now I have to deal with this?

It just wasn't fair in Sorano's mind.

I should have let it stay on the centaur's head for a little longer. She's already recovered and I'm sitting in this dilapidated bathroom relying on a human youngling to assist me.

It should be mentioned that the bathroom was still in much the same sorry state it had been before. The door was still busted, a hole shaped from Sorano's outline still cut out from it, but there was a towel now covering the damage. Similarly, the demolished wall had a makeshift curtain over it. Courtesy of bedsheets the girls 'donated' that were stitched together.

The towel was all Kurusu but the stitched together 'curtain' had actually been done by Sorano. His experience with repairing his wrappings made him the best choice for the job and no one objected when he completed the task without first consulting them.

Well, Miia did. But that was mainly because she needed her blankets to keep up her body temperature. An issue that was resolved when Kurusu offered his own. An offer she readily accepted when she realized it'd let her constantly breathe her Darling's scent.

Two more soft knocks sounded off at the bathroom's door and, before he could even acknowledge the interruption, Sorano watched as it was gently opened a crack.

. . . Only for the entire thing to fall off its hinges and onto the floor.

Seems it was far less sturdy than initially suspected. We might need a whole new frame.

The individual that had caused this escalation in damage did not budge from their position in the hallway. No, instead they merely stared into the bathroom looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights. A fitting comparison if there ever was one for, just like a deer, this individual also had four hooves.

Sorano, realizing that he probably had to say something to snap Cerea out of her daze, promptly lowered his head, the only part of his body that was currently covered, down towards his tub's bathwater and greedily drank from it like a man who'd just completed a patrol through the Mojave.

This elicited a response from Sorano's new guest. Of course, a disgusted look wasn't his intended goal but it could still be considered an improvement.

What made it worse was that, even after his 'drink', Sorano still had to try and clear the congestion. Cue an awkward thirty or so second long period in which Cerea stared in horror at Sorano's seemingly disembodied head as it emanated all manner of guttural and gritty noises.

This only ended when he coughed up a glob of . . . something, increasing the intensity of Cerea's disgust in the process, and Sorano, completely unfazed by her unhidden revulsion towards him, nonchalantly ended the silence with, what else, a complaint.

"You were taking too long."

It was true, in a sense. The reason for Cerea's impromptu visit was readily apparent. After all, she was carrying a teacup. Had she simply given it to him, he wouldn't have needed to take such drastic measures to communicate. This, of course, was Sorano's perspective on the situation. It goes without saying that Cerea felt very differently about his logic.

"Are you just going to stand there and continue to stare? It's not like you can see anything and I'm not going to spontaneously become visible after being like this for as long as I can remember."

The unfiltered condescension in his words jumpstarted Cerea's brain, allowing her to finally step within the bathroom and subsequently on top of the broken door.

"I–"

"Where's the boy?" Sorano, instinctively sensing that she would say something stupid, did the linguistic equivalent of an execution. He completely derailed her train of thought and recentered the conversation around something he deemed more important.

"My Master is currently treating the injuries our party members sustained in battle."

"So, he sent you instead?"

"No. I volunteered to assist you while he tended to them."

Sorano could do nothing but focus his attention on the cup she was cradling in her hands. His entire mind focused on that one, single word. Volunteered?

"You should know that I've yet to discover a poison that can harm me. Anything you'd find underneath the kitchen sink would be ineffective."

"I beg thy pardon?"

"Point being, if neither Haber nor Mairanovsky could rid the world of me I doubt you can. In fact, I'd argue that your credentials are so lacking that you shouldn't even have the right to try."

"I . . . what?"

"However, beggars can't be choosers. In my current state, you could have filled that cup to the brim with turpentine and it wouldn't concern me. As long as it's liquid, it'll suffice."

"You . . . you believe that I would poison thee?" At first, Cerea's mind seemed to have been incapable of processing the accusation being levied her way. It was simply too ridiculous. Poison? Used on him? By her? How paranoid did someone have to be to believe their housemate would poison them? Yes, Sorano was far from the ideal housemate but even with his eccentricities and unruliness, Cerea couldn't believe anyone, let alone herself, would be capable of attempting murder against him.

"I broke your sword. It's only natural that you'd want revenge."

The revelation that he'd been the one to sabotage her trusty blade surprised Cerea. Well, perhaps it wasn't the revelation itself that shocked her, she had suspected Sorano did it but lacked definitive proof, but the fact that he was readily admitting his crime with no reservations.

That shock transformed into anger when metaphorical gears began to turn in her mind and she came to realize just how insulting the suggestion that she'd kill him over an inanimate object was. Even worse was the method he believed she'd use. Deftly vanquishing him in a fair duel was one thing. It'd still be an overreaction, but at least there'd be a degree of honor involved. There was no honor in an assassination. Poisoning someone would forever taint Cerea's soul. She could never hold her head high with such a sin staining her. It was a course of action her code diametrically opposed in every conceivable way.

"I did not come here with the intent to slay you. And, had I done so, I certainly would not utilize an unhanded trick such as–!"

"Ah yes, I forgot about your moral code. Apparently, Nessus did as well. As do the untold number of your kin who worship him as their principal exemplar."

The name caused Cerea to pause. Ah, yes. Nessus. The centaur who unwittingly orchestrated the death of Heracles. Heracles shot him with a bow after he attempted to rape his, Heracles', wife, Deianira. As he lay dying, Nessus lied to the woman and told her that his blood would ensure Heracles remain faithful to her. The blood, having been tainted by the hydra venom Heracles coated his arrows with, ultimately killed Heracles when his wife coated his shirt with it because she feared she would lose him to another woman.

Sorano knew that Nessus was one of the most popular exemplars in centaur society and that's exactly why he brought him up. Yes, exemplars. Centaurs were a very tribal species. And as such, they were not unified in worshipping a deity or deities. Some worshipped the figure Centaurus, the supposed father of the centaur race. Others adopted any number of human religions. Usually blending them with their own tribal beliefs in the process.

The only commonality between most, if not all, of the differing beliefs centaur tribes shared was their tendency to promote certain figures in their history and mythology to the status of 'exemplar'. This was true even for the monotheistic tribes that worshipped either solely Centaurus or accepted one of the three main Abrahamic faiths. To them, an 'exemplar' was akin to a saint in Catholicism. To the many polytheistic tribes, the many 'exemplars' would be elevated to the status of a deity.

Not all tribes shared all the same exemplars. For example, the folk hero Polkan was only considered an exemplar by Russian tribes. However, three exemplars were largely accepted by almost all centaur tribes. Chiron, Hylonome, and Nessus.

Chiron, for many obvious reasons, was typically considered to be THE exemplar to those that idealized him. Polytheistic tribes saw him as being their equivalent to Thor. Monotheistic tribes that worshipped solely Centaurus viewed Chiron in the same manner Catholics view Saint Peter. He was the epitome of what it meant to be a centaur for most tribes.

Emphasis on the 'most' part. The more barbaric tribes, typically considered being those located in northern France, Germany, and the Nordics saw Chiron in a lesser light. To them, he was less respected than Nessus. Chiron was famous for being the teacher to many of humanity's greatest heroes. Nessus was famous for slaying one of humanity's greatest heroes. A hero that was tutored by Chiron and supposedly caused his death. For a less 'civilized' tribe that followed the aphorism of 'might makes right', the superior centaur was obvious.

Some of them rewrote the history books and claimed Nessus defeated Heracles intentionally. The worst offenders completely removed mention of his attempted sexual assault against Heracles' wife and portrayed the incident as if Heracles had slain Nessus on a whim. They also typically tended to state Heracles intentionally murdered Chiron. Thus, Nessus killing Heracles served to avenge Chiron and himself.

The tribes, and certainly the individuals, that cared less about the morality of the issue fully accepted Nessus' actions. From the attempted assault to the underhanded poisoning. To them, how Heracles was killed did not matter. All that mattered is that Nessus won.

"I am not Nessus. For what reason do you utter his name?" Cerea had to bite her tongue to hold back her anger. At that moment she wished more than anything that she hadn't decided to approach him. Her plan had been simple. She had wished to thank him for saving her life and apologize for her reckless attempts at helping him. Yes, Sorano had 'saved' her. In a rather anticlimactic way at that.

The Second Slime War lasted roughly a minute. It took that long for Sorano to kick Kurusu's ass into gear and have him boil a saucepan full of water.

As previously stated, a rapid increase in temperature made it difficult for a slime to retain its form. By tossing scalding hot water onto the creature, Sorano turned it into a puddle. One that had been mopped up and squeezed into a Ziploc bag that was now sitting in the freezer.

But right now, the fate of that silly slime wasn't important. Cerea's current demeanor was.

Perplexing. Is she upset because I don't respect her heathen traditions? No, this is something else. She's distanced herself from him rather than attempt to defend his good name. She may not be a member of Nessus' cult but she should still wish to stand up for him in some way. I suppose that rules out her being a member of one of the more brutal clans. Or does it?

Everything about Cerea's body language indicated that she was insulted. She was reacting to what Sorano said in the same manner a Jewish person would probably react to being compared to Shylock. This was not exactly the response Sorano had expected and certainly not one that he could rationalize with what little information he had available.

So, he didn't try to. Instead of directly confronting her on behavior he considered odd, he chose to move on and file the information away for later.

"I brought him up for two purposes. First, I wished to remind you that I care not about what you profess to believe in. I care for how you act. Do not hide behind your code as if it were a shield. Your actions will always speak louder than mere words. Second, I wanted to gauge your reaction. Nessus is rarely the designated personal exemplar of a female but it does happen. Obviously, this is not the case with you. Is Hylonome yours then?"

Hylonome. The most popular exemplar amongst female centaurs. Otherwise known as centaurides or centauresses. She was the ideal centaur woman. Loyal to her mate until the very end. After her husband died in battle, she committed suicide by impaling herself with the same spear that killed him.

In Sorano's opinion, she was a stupid fool. But that wasn't surprising considering how Sorano himself had been a widower on two separate occasions. Yes, you heard that right. Somehow this grumpy pain in the ass had two 'successful' marriages. You could even argue all four were 'successful' because none of his wives had managed to accomplish murdering him.

"The Matron? She is not. I follow the Mentor's path."

Another shocking development. Though this one was welcomed by Sorano. The 'Mentor' was one of Chiron's many official titles. Considering her obsession with finding a romantic partner and her idealistic view of love, Sorano would have expected her to have followed Hylonome's cult. Chiron's was typically reserved for those seeking a leadership position.

I never would have pegged her as the type to strive for that sort of thing.

"How is it you know so much about my kin? I was unaware the Cultural Exchange had access to this information."

Sorano shifted in the tub. Reclining as he placed his unseen legs atop its edge and crossed his unseen arms behind his head. "They don't. Not yet, at least. Theology is important, of course, but from what I understand they've been focusing on understanding the simpler aspects of us monsters. Why move onto the metaphysical when you don't even fully understand the physical?" He sighed, shifting slightly to get in a more comfortable position and sloshing water around in the process. "You know, the tea's probably cold by now?"

Cerea jumped a little, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. Despite her anger towards him, she couldn't help but feel her cheeks heat up from embarrassment. "Ah, I apologize. If thy wish, I can have the Master prepare another pot?"

"As long as it is liquid, it shall suffice. Didst thee f'rget already?"

Cerea ignored his mocking and instead approached him to fork over the cup. The setting would've caused her to feel an untold amount of shame had he not been completely invisible from the head down. It was still scandalous for her to be with a nude male who was not her Master but not to such an extent that she'd find herself unable to remain calm as she got closer.

"Here. I pray it will be satisfactory to thy taste. And again, I assure you that you will not find even a single drop of poison in that cup."

"So, you used more than a drop? Why that right there is overkill for little old me."

"I thought you stated thou were immune to–?!"

"Don't get hysterical, woman. I'm fucking with you. Let me gulp this down and I'll tell you why I know anything about your pitiful little species. And after that, you can explain to me why you're here and not the kid."

Cerea offered the cup to him, vaguely holding it in front of the bathtub because she couldn't tell where his hands were. Sorano gently took it, trying his best not to jolt the cup and spill its contents.

The centauress could only watch in fascination as the cup floated towards his head. Then, in what could only be described as 'surreal', she watched as the gauze covering his head loosened ever so slightly to reveal what she could only assume to be his mouth. Being able to see straight through to the fabric covering the back of his head was as unsettling for her as it was for Miia. What was even more unsettling was his drinking.

Tea went in his mouth, or rather the hole in his head she assumed to be his mouth, and disappeared immediately. She'd half expected to see it float around in the air after being swallowed.

Once Sorano finished his tea, he burped and then proceeded to drop the cup down to the bathtub, scoop up some of its water, and chuck that down behind the tea.

To say it grossed Cerea out would be an understatement.

"Never could stand the aftertaste tea has." He burped once more, the noise sounding very similar to a bullfrog's croaking, and stared at Cerea expectantly. "You should probably sit. I'd hate to be held responsible for causing you any discomfort." The sarcasm lacing his words didn't go over her head but she humored him and kneeled the best she could.

"It might be best if I explained my presence here first."

Sorano mulled over the suggestion while cupping his hand in his chin, even though Cerea could not see it, before responding. "Agreed. Your explanation is likely much shorter than mine."

And, to his surprise, she immediately bowed. Bringing her head so low that her forehead touched against the bathroom's tile floor.

What in the blazes is she pulling here? Is this her idea of a joke?

"Please forgive me for my recklessness!"

Why is she shouting?!

"Despite the many concerns I have against you, you did not hesitate to place yourself in danger to rescue my life. For that, you have my eternal gratitude."

I placed myself in danger to save you? The only time I wasn't in danger was when you were, you fool!

"Had you not saved me my Master would have had to fend for himself against those vixens."

And now it's somehow tied to the kid?

"But your valiant act ensured this would not be the case. Your willingness to lend your aid, in spite of my failure at freeing you, speaks volumes of your character."

It was less of me saving you and more of me wishing to extract some payback against that disgusting pest. Plus, I didn't want to have to fill out paperwork explaining why I let you die. Smith would have tried to strangle me.

"I have numerous qualms with your disposition and manner of speech. However, in light of your actions today, I can say with certainty that you are not an evil person."

Am I supposed to be grateful for that? 'You're not a total bastard but you're still probably a bastard.' Gee. Thanks a lot.

Sorano could do nothing but squirm in place. Her impromptu speech had caused him to feel several layers of awkwardness. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't one of the strangest 'confessions' he'd heard in his life. It didn't make the top ten, but it was certainly odd.

What made it even worse was Cerea refusing to raise her head even after she'd stopped talking.

Am I supposed to tell her to get up or–?

Thankfully, he was spared from having to play along with the ridiculous scene too much. She chose that moment to lift her gaze back to his figure. Or rather, his 'floating' head. "Normally, my honor would dictate that I swear fealty to you until I repay this life debt." Cerea frowned ever so slightly. Sorano wouldn't have caught it had he been paying even the slightest less attention. "However, I am afraid I cannot do this. I have already sworn myself to my Master. In lieu of this, I humbly beg you to instead accept one favor."

It was at that point that Sorano regained enough of his wits to respond. "Seems like a hefty decrease in value. You go from owing me your life to only owing a single favor?"

"I did not mean to cause insult!"

That was a joke, you stupid git!

"If that is not acceptable then I would be willing to provide two–!"

"Make it three and you have a deal." The suddenness in which he said it surprised Cerea. Really, he'd responded as quickly as he did just to shut her up. But what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Three would be acceptable."

"Hmm . . . what can I use these favors on?"

"Anything. Though I would ask you not to request my virginity. I am saving it for the Master."

Sorano had many questions he wanted to ask. "Why do you assume I'd want your virginity to begin with?"

That elicited a blush. "I do not pretend to understand your–"

"Why do you assume 'the Master' wants your virginity?"

"Uh–? I uh . . . I . . . cannot say." She felt into complete silence, unable to formulate a logical response.

"Why do you assume I want anything to do with you?"

The former question was a punch to the brain. This question served as a blow to the stomach. It rendered Cerea speechless.

"And finally, why do you assume you can provide even one thing I'd desire let alone three?"

With that last question came an overwhelming atmosphere. Sorano had walked directly up to her and was glaring down at her something fierce. While still being completely naked, and see-through, from the head down.

He was pissed, to put it lightly. Something about her unfinished response to his first question set him off. The mere implication that he'd want a sexual favor from her was infuriating. The revelation that it was something she considered a potential option disturbed him. When she mentioned 'favors' he assumed it'd be something simple. Something like asking her to cover his chores for a few days. Clearly, he'd underestimated the power he'd been given over her.

"I don't want you to answer a single one of those questions because quite frankly I don't need to hear any more of your incoherent rambling. I'll give you three of my desires."

Cerea could only nod in response to the fury in his gaze.

"First, I broke your sword and it's still stuck in the ceiling. You're going to let me stand atop your rump so I can pull it out. That'll save me the trouble of finding a ladder."

He continued before she could even open her mouth.

"And don't bring up some bullshit about 'only my Master can mount me'. I don't want to mount you. I want to use you as a step stool. We clear?"

That sets boundaries. It also makes her feel like she's assisting in some way.

A nod was the response.

"Second, I want you to take that teacup back to the sink and wash it so the kid doesn't have to."

That'll save Kurusu some time. Which'll be important because I need him to help me call Smith. She needs to figure out how to handle the slime and I might as well broach the subject of her helping Miia now rather than putting it off.

Again, Cerea opened her mouth, this time not to speak but to express shock. 'That's it?' her eyes seemed to ask.

Sorano ignored her confusion and moved on. "Some bozo with a bleeding heart would use one of these to tell you to 'live your dreams' or 'improve yourself' or some other hogwash. Come to think of it, the kid probably would. But I'm not him and I'm certainly not a bleeding heart. My third request is simple, never again assume that I'm doing something out of selflessness. Everything I've ever done in my life was done to fulfill my self-interests. I'm here in this house right now because I have to be. Not because I want to be."

This girl . . . is too naïve. She's a foal that's barely seen the world. Let alone truly experienced it. To so willingly give in to the demands of a stranger is sheer insanity. Her misguided code be damned! She'll learn about the harsh realities of life whether she wants to or not. I'll give her a crash course on selfishness using myself as an example. Maybe then she'll realize how stupid it is to assume the best out of someone's intentions. Why, I might just save her from heart-breaking disappointment.

As a bonus, this might get her off the kid's back. Taking off the romantic's glasses she wears might let her see him for what he really is. A good guy, for sure, but not someone you should sacrifice your life to on a whim. There are very few, if any, individuals out there worthy of such loyalty at the relationship status she's in with him. Or with me for that matter. Everyone in this house is a stranger to one another. You shouldn't be making life-altering deals with a stranger. What would have happened to this idiot if she didn't meet Kurusu? What would have happened to her if she gave one 'favor' to anyone but he or I?

"That . . . thou make little sense."

"Tsk-tsk. I'm not done. I also want you to never again strike me. I have no need for children assaulting me. Your code may compel you to do it because you believe me to have slighted you, your kind, the kid, or any number of inane things but that doesn't matter to me. Never again lay a hand upon me. And never use that facsimile of a sword on me after we get it down. Got it?"

If she agrees to this, it's just one extra boon. She's got a hell of a swing for someone with arms as thin as pasta noodles.

"Is that not a fourth request?"

"I don't care what it is. You will abide by it or else I'll thaw out that slime and shove it down your windpipe. Got it?"

A final nod signaled the end to the insanity.

"Good. Now, I've had enough of you for today. I'll tell you the story of how I inadvertently kidnapped one of your witch doctors some other time. Tomorrow we'll get your sword. It should stay put for the rest of the night."

And with that, Sorano left the bathroom. Dripping water all over the place on his way out.

All Cerea could do was lift herself from her kneeling position as she thought about the one-sided conversation she'd just had. Her 'orders' had been relatively tame. Far less extreme than what she'd assumed the liminal male to be capable of. The 'worst' was the first one. But even then, it wasn't too bad. He didn't request to ride her as her Master did. No, he only wished to help her get her sword. Even though the way he described it made it sound less generous.

Wash a single piece of crockery? Assume the worst when dealing with him? Refrain from physically reprimanding him?

They were all simple requests. And that worried Cerea ever so slightly.

"I gave him the chance to ask for anything and that is all he came up with."

Cerea couldn't help but frown as she thought things through. "Despite his surliness, that man has more in common with Master than he would like to admit. No truly selfish individual would waste such an opportunity on things so trivial." She moved to the bathtub, picking up the teacup he'd left on its rim. "What a perplexing person. I cannot say he will be a danger to Master though. Why he might even be a blessing in disguise."

And from down the hall the voice of said 'blessing in disguise' rang out clear as day. "Hey, cowboy boot! Why in the hell did you take my gauze for your tail?! Couldn't you find any in the medicinal cabinet?! I didn't even get a chance to mend the sections that were burnt!"

"Ah, I was helping Papi and got kind of sidetracked with Darling and . . . are you naked?!"

"You bet your scaly ass I am! Now give me that damn gauze! It's custom made!"

A cacophony of Miia's shrieking, Sorano's screaming, Papi's distant laughter, and Kurusu's frantic pleas for them all to stop reached Cerea's sensitive ears.

"I might have spoken too soon."

AN: Long time no see, huh? I'm going to go off on a limb and assume most of you thought this story was dead. Considering it hasn't been updated with a new chapter (we're not counting that awful April Fool's prank I pulled) in more than a year I can't say I blame you. I'm 100% at fault here and I apologize to everyone for the ridiculous wait. This chapter went through a ton of revisions and you might notice that it seems 'different' compared to prior chapters. That's partially because of the aforementioned revisions it went through and partially because my intentions for this story shifted drastically over the course of this past year. In the future, you'll be seeing more worldbuilding and character development and I can only hope that it won't be to the detriment of the story's humor. I won't be using info dumps (like in this chapter) frequently but they will occasionally pop up. We're also going to be trekking slightly off the path canon took. You can probably already see that with how Suu's entrance was resolved. Don't worry, she's not going to get axed from the cast. I plan on doing a lot with her in chapters to come. Look forward to that.

I'm going to hold off on responding to reviews this time. Mainly because half of you wouldn't be able to respond back. Because of this site's rules regarding posting multiple reviews to a single chapter (under the same account) anyone who reviewed the April Fool's chapter (before it was deleted) probably won't be able to review this one. It sucks that that's the case but what can you do? If any of you'd like to ask specific questions regarding the last chapter feel free to PM me. Heck, feel free to PM me if you want to ask a question about this chapter, the story, it's status, or whatever. I'd be happy to answer anything (within reason lol) and it'd save me from inadvertently tossing out spoilers in my AN's XD.

Again, I'd like to thank all of you for bearing with me. I can't promise that the next chapter will come quickly but I can say it'll come sooner than this one did! I'd like to plug V-rcingetorix/ChuckTheElf and King Keith as thanks for helping me with this chapter (among other things). Check them out if you get a chance. V-rcingetorix's account 'ChuckTheElf' has been actively writing a few Monster Musume stories of his own that I can't praise enough. I'm sure you'll enjoy reading his stuff as much as I do.

Also, this is only for those of you that read my other story but 21st Century Schizoid Man is still alive and kicking. I'm working on its next update at the moment and should have it up before December (at the latest).

Thanks again, everyone! See you next chapter!