After plunging the girls' school into the depths of terror, I thought I could finally return to my usual decadent life… but I couldn't.
A carriage.
In this day and age, I'm traveling in a carriage, swaying back and forth.
It's because I'm joining an expedition.
In the same carriage with me are my favorite curly-haired girl and Abigail.
This carriage is a special vehicle for Butchers. The driver is a Rusher, a specialized soldier who handles Butchers.
Apparently, this expedition was planned in advance. Despite my rampage at the girls' school, I wasn't thrown into solitary confinement. Instead, I was immediately loaded into this carriage and sent off.
I'm used to accompanying these kinds of expeditions. Usually, it's either participating in attacks on human strongholds or escorting supplies and personnel.
This time, it's an attack mission. And since there are women along, it's likely to be a long journey.
Initially, the women chosen were the curly-haired girl and a long-haired black-haired girl I recently broke. When going outside, women who've lost their sanity are less likely to flee and easier to control.
But this was a golden opportunity. Despite feeling guilty, I unleashed all sorts of threatening behavior on the black-haired girl, who had become completely unresponsive unless I inserted myself into her.
Finally, the black-haired girl was replaced, and luckily, Abigail was brought in. It was fortunate I got her in one try without causing too much of a scene.
This is how Abigail ended up outside the facility.
According to her, it's been months since she's been out. For a while, she seemed at a loss for words.
So, if I just help her escape, is that the end of it? No, it's not that simple. Her neck is fitted with a choker-type escape prevention device.
It's similar to the control device on my temple. If the alien holding the control terminal wills it, or if she doesn't return to the alien base within the set period, it'll blow up.
Abigail probably still doesn't understand why she was brought outside. She's just here to satisfy my sexual desires and continue breeding, so there's no need to explain why she's outdoors. But she seems to have been threatened about the device on her neck, as she keeps glancing at the choker nervously.
How do the aliens make them obey? I'll ask about that during this expedition.
As expected, Abigail is sharp.
She steals glances at the surroundings, the streets, the route leading outside, and the gate guards. Even after going outside, she keeps observing the roads and forests.
Though it's just a simple robe, seeing Abigail in clothes feels fresh. Since the first day, I'd only seen her naked. The soft skin hidden by the fabric and her slender limbs peeking out look strangely alluring. Frankly, it's erotic. Abigail is more erotic when she's dressed.
Being in a different place and enjoying these small changes in a girl makes this expedition feel like an exciting trip for me.
Plus, at the destination, I can let loose and rampage as much as I want. Even I need to release the Butcher's violent tendencies lurking inside me occasionally, or it's bad for my health. Especially now, after the girls' school incident, I've got a lot pent up. I'm looking forward to it. In a way, it's a reward for the grueling work at the girls' school.
By the way, I'm not worried about dying.
From past experience, killing me would require something like a simultaneous barrage of high-explosive shells with Time-on-Target precision, pinpoint naval gunfire, or concentrated bombing from aircraft or cruise missiles. Even in a tank encounter, I could handle it.
And knowing the human side's military capabilities, there's no way such firepower will appear in this small-scale battle. Humans would only deploy their full force during the defense of Fort, the linchpin of humanity's survival.
What worries me is Abigail. Even in a small battle, there's a chance of stray bullets hitting her. That's what I need to be careful about during this expedition.
I explained all this to her while tapping my knee.
"Nigel, no, neck, fly, battle, start, outside, don't go."
"…Understood. I'll obey."
Abigail nodded slightly.
As long as she stays in the carriage, she should be safe.
This carriage, by the way, is a special model for transporting Butchers. It's a box-shaped vehicle pulled by a lead carriage where the Rusher, the monitor, sits. Imagine a trailer home being towed. However, there are few windows, it's dimly lit, and the interior is still stark.
Carriages seem fragile, but thanks to magic or something, they're impervious to small arms fire. They prioritize defense, so if a Butcher goes berserk, the entire box can be sealed off.
And unless the road is extremely rough, there's almost no shaking or vibration—it's a dream vehicle. Alien technology is truly mysterious.
Plus, if the windows are closed, it's completely soundproof. If the sound of a Butcher having sex leaked out 24/7, the accompanying soldiers would complain.
For regular Butchers, the plaything women are kept in a separate carriage and thrown in as needed, but since I'm a model prisoner, the woman is always thrown in with me. My past obedience as a livestock paid off here.
So, while we're moving, the inside of the carriage is a free space. We can avoid the aliens' eyes.
That's why Abigail can even talk to me like this. It's the reason I wanted to bring her out at all costs.
Normally, being inside the carriage is boring, so I'd just be having sex with the woman from morning till night, but this time, I'm holding back.
Honestly, every time I catch a glimpse of Abigail's soft cleavage from the neckline of her dress, I want to pounce on her. But I'm holding back. Even though she smells good, I'm holding back.
And so, our calm conversation continued.
Understanding the situation, including my explanation that the round trip would take at least ten days, she finally seemed relieved, and her tense expression gradually softened.
"—And then, the culprit was—"
From there, she started talking about a mystery novel from half a century ago that she's been enjoying lately.
"—If someone wore clothes like this nowadays, they'd be laughed at—"
Next, she mentioned looking at an equally old fashion magazine, which she found hilariously outdated and funny—a pretty trivial topic.
Why does she keep derailing the conversation like this? Does she understand the situation…?
…Well, she's a woman. I get it.
Resigned, I started sharing my recent updates to satisfy her conversational desires.
Abigail's face stiffened or relaxed as she listened intently to my stories.
She seemed particularly interested in my part-time job at the Minotaur manager's butcher shop (payment is only grass). She listened intently, her eyes sparkling, as I shared various anecdotes.
A Butcher doing a normal job is like a wrestling heel working at a trendy café—it's shocking from a human perspective. I didn't mention the ground meat story, though.
As Abigail grew more interested in my private life as a Butcher, she kept asking for more stories.
About the fox girl. About defending the fox girl's home.
Surprisingly, she casually told me that the attackers were likely the Tango Team, a human special forces unit that had been infiltrating the city for quite some time.
Earthspins don't leak secrets, but maybe she played that card to gain my trust. She said she didn't know why the fox girls were targeted.
"Girls' school…?"
When the conversation turned to my recent duties at the girls' school, Abigail's eyebrows furrowed in concern. When I mentioned almost dying from holding back too much, she finally giggled softly.
"Hehe… huhuhu…"
It was the first time I'd seen her laugh. Her smile was strangely dazzling.
When I told her about taking a dragon's breath at close range, Abigail gasped. As an intelligence agent, she knew the destructive power of a dragon's breath.
"I'm amazed you're still alive…"
Dragons are a real threat to humanity. It was my first time experiencing it as a Butcher, and it was intense. Still, I felt like I could take a few more hits. Abigail was stunned hearing that.
"Hehe… Even Gévaudan has it tough, huh… huhu…"
However, when I mentioned being paraded naked in front of the entire school and then streaking home, she laughed again with a troubled expression.
Well, if it reduced her stress, that's good.
When I told her about exchanging names with Ferris—how I was mistakenly called "Jivodan"—Abigail chuckled softly and poked my knee.
"Healing magic is a very rare talent, you know."
I see… So that's why Ferris was targeted by Tango. That night, the perverted fox woman was just a distraction—the real target was Ferris. But there are other aliens who use healing magic too. Why specifically Ferris? Hmm…
Abigail, being a liaison officer, didn't know much about the aliens' inner workings, so she had no information about Ferris.
As her mood finally settled, we moved on to the issue of the control device.
I decided to tell her that the device is a self-destruct mechanism. Without that information, the conversation wouldn't progress, and since my death would also end her future, she wouldn't easily try to kill me.
I often see the control terminals, but there are many things about this device that don't add up. For example, when I'm outside, there's sometimes no alien with a terminal nearby. How do they plan to handle me if I go berserk?
Or sometimes, even without an alien with a terminal nearby, commands are sent.
My guess is that there's some kind of radio tower somewhere, remotely controlling it.
If that's the case, to remove this self-destruct shackle, I'd have to seize the terminal and immediately destroy the radio tower. And I'd have to destroy all such hidden devices to be truly free. That's incredibly difficult.
So, as an alternative escape plan, I considered removing the device from my temple. Honestly, removing my head device would be more convenient. That way, no matter what happens, my brain won't be blown to bits.
Of course, I have no idea if it's even possible or how to do it.
So, Abigail, I want you to help me figure out how to remove this device. And I'd like you to plan the details of our escape.
That's what I'm asking of you. I'll handle anything that requires strength, so feel free to rely on that in your plan.
"Understood."
Abigail nodded.
After I explained my thoughts to her, she paused for a moment before speaking.
"Gévaudan…"
She started to say something but stopped.
For a while, her auburn eyes stared intently at me, and then she resumed.
"—How long have you been there?"
She didn't ask if I was once human.
Abigail probably already knows I was human. After all, I'm too familiar with human knowledge to be a beast locked up in that prison. Plus, the fact that I can understand language gives it away.
I'm fine with her knowing that much.
My basic stance is amnesia. A simple yet powerful excuse. If cornered, I'll just insist I don't remember. I'll leave my backstory to her imagination. In reality, I've lost quite a bit of my memory in fragments.
My amnesia is a bit unusual—mainly, I've lost memories related to people. When I try to recall someone, their figure and name become shadowy. Even my own appearance is vague.
It's as if someone is trying to sever my connections with people—
Once I'm free from that prison, I plan to take revenge on Fort. I'll keep that to myself. I don't want Abigail to be on guard.
I'm just a pitiful beast, dreaming of freedom while trapped. That's my character.
Since my consciousness became clear, it's been about two or three years. I don't remember anything before that. That's all I'll tell her.
"I see…"
Abigail looked down and nodded.
Does she sense I'm hiding something?
As I leaned in to look at her face, her gaze was fixed on my crotch. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.
Without me noticing, my little friend had pushed up my apron, looking sturdy.
Come on, it's not my fault. In this tight space, you're giving off such a nice scent. Plus, the curly-haired girl is sitting on the other side, leaning on me. It's just a physiological reaction.
"—I can hold back—"
I told her that, and Abigail looked up at me shyly.
"—Just a little… okay?"