Chapter 57: The Best Day Ever (Is a Lie)

Sorry for missing the schedule, everyone! My WiFi completely cut out and didn't come back until 8 last night. Since it was so late, I decided to hold off and post today instead. Thanks for sticking with me!

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The morning arrived not with a shout, but with a hushed, frozen serenity. Outside the window, a pale, ghostly white snow began to drift slowly from a leaden sky, coating the city in a layer of crystalline silence.

Inside the room, Ethan let out a long, guttural groan. He felt an oppressive chill clinging to his skin, yet there was a strange, contradicting warmth pressing against his chest. He felt heavy—not with the agonizing muscle cramps of the previous day, but with something soft, supple, and decidedly human.

Still half-lost in the fog of sleep, he rubbed his eyes with both hands, trying to clear the blur. As he stretched, he noticed a peculiar lightness in his limbs. The agonizing, bone-deep soreness of the previous day had vanished. He didn't want to think about yesterday—the chaos, the pain—and frankly, he couldn't. The end of the day had been a blur of static and darkness, his consciousness slipping away before he could process the aftermath.

As his vision cleared, he realized exactly why he felt so warm.

Lindis was draped across him, her sleep-heavy form molding perfectly to his own. Ethan was clad in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, while Lindis was in a state of dress that could only be described as "precariously minimal." She wore a set of pink lace lingerie that looked more like a suggestion than actual clothing. The bra strap had succumbed to the laws of gravity and sleep, slipping down to reveal the creamy, soft curve of her breast, pressing mere millimeters from his face.

Ethan’s eyes widened. For a moment, he looked like a man who had seen the face of a goddess and feared for his soul. He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second, his hands instinctively clasping together in a frantic, silent prayer to whatever deities presided over the lustful and the damned.

Drip.

A single, hot bead of blood escaped his nostril.

"BOO!"

"OH, FUCK!" Ethan gasped, nearly leaping out of his own skin as a holographic window snapped open inches from his nose.

The System’s text didn't just appear; it practically danced with malicious glee.

[ Analysis: Target is currently experiencing a critical failure in ocular discipline. ]

[ Observation: It seems the 'Hero' is incapable of glancing at anything other than gigantic breasts. Is this a new S-Rank skill? 'Hyper-Focus on Softness'? 10/10 for commitment. ]

"Shut up!" Ethan hissed, his voice a panicked whisper. He tried to shift his gaze, but he was trapped in a gravitational pull of pink lace. "I'm not—I can't help it! Her boobs are literally staring at my eyes! It's an aggressive visual assault!"

[System Note: Aggressive visual assault? Please. You're practically drooling. I can see the gears turning in that tiny E-Rank brain of yours. 'Oh, look at the curvature! Oh, the softness!' You're a disaster.]

Just as he spoke, Lindis let out a soft, sleepy grunt. She shifted, her body sliding closer, her chest pressing firmly against his side as she murmured something incoherent in her sleep.

Ethan’s head slammed back against the pillow, his entire body stiffening like a board. He stopped breathing entirely, terrified that even a single exhale would trigger a total meltdown.

[ALERT: Hormonal spike detected!] the System chimed, sounding far too amused for a piece of software. [Current arousal levels have surged from a modest 46% to a staggering 89% in 0.4 seconds. Someone call a doctor—or perhaps a priest—because this man is about to combust from sheer horniness!]

"Shhh!" Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, his face burning a shade of red that rivaled Lindis's lingerie. "Stop narrating my hormones!"

It took several agonizing minutes of careful, millimeter-by-millimeter maneuvering, but Ethan finally managed to extricate himself from the bed. With a shaky hand and a heart hammering against his ribs, he gently pulled the blanket up, covering Lindis from her chin to her toes to safeguard both his sanity and her modesty.

He practically bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Leaning over the sink, Ethan stared hard into the mirror. He looked exhausted, flushed, and utterly bewildered. He tried to focus on his reflection, to regain some semblance of dignity, but as he glanced downward, he realized that his gaze wasn't the only thing that was currently "hard."

He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror and let out a long, defeated sigh.

Ethan spent several minutes in the bathroom, leaning against the sink and staring intensely into the mirror. He began a series of mental exercises, reminding himself of what a selfless, virtuous man he was—a true pillar of morality. He tried to envision a future where he was a respected, disciplined warrior, using the image of his own nobility to combat the stubborn, physical reality of his "hardened will." Eventually, through a combination of sheer willpower and a few very cold splashes of water to the face, the crisis subsided.

He finally emerged from the bathroom, properly dressed for the day. He had opted for black pants and a bright yellow t-shirt that screamed "Best Day Ever!" in bold, cheerful letters—a stark contrast to the internal turmoil he had just endured.

As he stepped into the small living area, a loud, prolonged yawn echoed through the apartment.

Mia appeared from her room, looking like she had just lost a fight with a whirlwind. Her hair was a chaotic nest of tangles, and she was swimming in oversized, fuzzy pajamas that made her look even smaller than usual. She blinked slowly, her eyes half-closed as she processed the sight of her brother.

"Oh... you're finally awake," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and a hint of a nasal drone.

"Yeah, a few minutes ago," Ethan replied, crossing his arms and trying to look casual, though his mind was still flashing back to a certain pink lace ensemble.

"Good," Mia replied, shuffling forward toward the kitchen with the grace of a zombie. "Since Lindis had to practically carry your dead weight back here on her back."

Ethan froze. He pivoted toward her, his expression shifting from casual to sheer panic. "Wait, back up. Hold the phone. I need a full, detailed, step-by-step explanation. How and why, in the name of all that is holy, was Lindis—Lindis—inside our cramped, shoebox of an apartment? And more importantly, why did she decide that my room was the optimal place to crash instead of yours?"

Mia stopped in her tracks, blinking at him with a vacant, sleepy expression. She didn't answer immediately; instead, she let out another small yawn and rubbed one eye.

"Wait... I need to brush my teeth and wash my face first, Oppa," she murmured, already drifting back toward the bathroom. "Brain... not working yet."

Ethan stood there, alone in the middle of the room, staring after her. He looked down at his "Best Day Ever!" shirt and felt a sudden, overwhelming sense that the shirt was lying to him.

The kitchen was filled with the comforting, rhythmic sounds of a morning routine. Ethan moved with practiced efficiency, the sizzle of thick-cut bacon filling the air with a salty aroma that competed with the rich, nutty scent of coffee. He didn't brew the bitter, charcoal-like kind; instead, he opted for a creamy, smooth blend that felt more like a hug in a mug. He plated steaming mounds of fluffy white rice and perfectly circular sunny-side-up eggs, the yolks shimmering like golden mirrors.

By the time he set the plates on the small table, the room had coalesced. Mia was now properly dressed, her sleepy haze replaced by a quiet appetite. Beside her sat Lindis, wearing the same clothes from the previous day, looking remarkably refreshed and entirely unfazed by the events of the night.

Ethan didn't sit down immediately. Instead, he stood at the head of the table, pointing a spoon at Lindis with the intensity of a prosecutor in a high-stakes trial.

"Alright, let's go over this one more time for the record," Ethan began, his voice a mix of disbelief and desperation. "You—the legendary Lindis—carried me back here. And instead of heading home with your sister Kaela and her husband Zane, you decided to spend the night in my shoebox of a room because you wanted to... what? Fulfill a promise to give me a massage?"

Lindis didn't look up immediately. She was preoccupied with a piece of egg, munching on it with an innocent, focused intensity. She swallowed with a loud, audible gulp and nodded simply.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice airy and devoid of any ulterior motive. "It went quite well, actually. Since you were unconscious, you didn't squirm at all."

Ethan’s spoon froze mid-air. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "Wait. Just to be absolutely clear... you didn't, by any chance, massage my... my ass cheeks, right?"

Lindis blinked, her expression blank and honest. "Eh? I did. They were very tense."

Ethan’s soul nearly left his body. He felt a phantom pressure on his glutes, and his mind screamed in an internal cacophony of horror. Oh my god! She touched them! She actually grabbed my cheeks! My pristine, untouched cheeks!!

Suddenly, the System window flashed a brilliant, sarcastic gold in front of his eyes.

[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: The Peach Plucker!]

[Description: Your glutes have been professionally evaluated by a Ranker. Congratulations on having 'firm' assets!]

"Are you kidding me?!" Ethan hissed at the empty air. "Who gives an achievement for that? Delete it! Delete it right now!"

He slumped slightly, rubbing his temples. "Well... that was incredibly embarrassing, Lindis."

Lindis tilted her head, looking genuinely confused by his distress. "Why is it embarrassing? It was just the two of us."

"That is exactly why it's embarrassing!" Ethan exclaimed, his gestures becoming wild. "You didn't just massage me; you basically had a 4K, high-definition tour of my gluteus maximus! Do you have any idea how invasive that is for a guy's dignity?"

Lindis shrugged, completely oblivious to the concept of modesty or social boundaries. "It's okay. It felt like kneading dough."

I am NOT okay with it! Ethan screamed internally.

"Though," Lindis continued, her voice drifting as she remembered, "I did fall asleep right after. It was so incredibly hot in that room, so I felt I needed to take off my—"

Ethan’s hand shot out like a viper, slamming firmly over Lindis’s mouth. His eyes went wide, darting frantically toward the corner of the room where Mia was sitting, quietly sipping a glass of milk.

"Shhh!" Ethan signaled violently with his other hand, his face pale. "Not another word! Not one more syllable! We are keeping this conversation in the 'top secret' category for the sake of my remaining sanity!"