That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

”Frey...”

Anrietta stared at Suzuki, letting out a soft sigh. ”Unless you can sprout wings and fly, she will always look down on you as a lesser being. Literally and figuratively.”

”Fair enough.”

Suzuki nodded, taking the geopolitical warning seriously. But privately, his mind immediately drifted to Frey, the infamous Harpy Demon Lord. He couldn’t help but wonder exactly how old she was.

She’s definitely not young.

Then again, how old was Anrietta?

Suzuki knew perfectly well that despite her flawless, youthful appearance and impossibly smooth skin, the elf sitting next to him was far from a teenager.

Manager, do you know exactly how old she is?

[Affirmative. Based on physiological markers and cross-referenced historical data, Anrietta is approximately—]

”What exactly are you thinking about with that look on your face?” Anrietta interrupted, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

”Nothing at all,” Suzuki replied smoothly, shaking his head. He decided to pivot his thoughts back to the Blumund Kingdom. He had several highly lucrative business ideas brewing, but to execute them, he needed to get back to his headquarters first.

”I’m going to turn in for the night. What are you going to do?” Suzuki asked, standing up.

”I’m going to rest, too.”

”...You’re planning to stay in here with me?”

”Is that a problem?” she challenged, tilting her head.

”I am a man, you know.”

Anrietta burst into a sultry, musical laugh. ”How cute~! You might be a man biologically, but you’re still just a harmless little boy in my eyes.” She reached out, playfully and roughly ruffling his perfectly styled hair before sauntering deeper into their shared luxury tent.

”...”

There were a great many things Suzuki wanted to say to that, but he swallowed his pride. He seriously wondered if his [Semantic Camouflage] was working too well. Did he really look that hopelessly naive and harmless?

In fairness, Suzuki’s physical body in this world was only twenty years old. Anrietta, despite her breathtakingly youthful allure, was roughly three hundred years old. To an Elf, three centuries was the prime of adulthood—the exact same age bracket as King Gazel and the top officials in Dwargon. That was likely why the Dwarven elites were so accommodating; no matter how terrifyingly competent he was, to them, Suzuki was basically a brilliant, overly ambitious toddler.

More frustratingly, he completely gave off the aura of a virgin.

Suzuki was definitely not a virgin. Yet, because he treated women with a gentle, calculated restraint—unlike the brutish mercenaries and playboy nobles of this era—they constantly misread his composure as innocence. Even when beautiful women practically threw themselves at him, he never lost his cool.

If he knew exactly what Anrietta was thinking, he would have sighed in exasperation. But he didn’t bother trying to correct the misunderstanding. He was already hiding his true identity as an Enlightened Sage; letting them mistakenly view him as a pure, harmless merchant was a highly effective tactical advantage. Even if it completely contradicted the wildly degenerate nights he had spent with Treyni and her sisters in the Jura Forest.

”Do you want to take a bath?” Suzuki asked, changing the subject.

If there was one glaring flaw in Rimuru’s newly established village, it was the absolute lack of a plumbing system. The only source of running water was a nearby river. And frankly, ”nearby” was a generous term; it was a decent trek, and the water was freezing cold at night. Plus, wandering around the Jura Forest after dark wasn’t exactly safe.

He knew Rimuru’s [Great Sage] could easily draft blueprints for modern plumbing, hot springs, and flushable toilets, but the actual physical labor fell on the Hobgoblins. Construction would take time.

It was a frustrating reality of this world. Magic was highly developed, but basic structural technology was completely stagnant.

If his lore knowledge served him right, this stagnation was entirely intentional. Every five hundred years, a catastrophic event known as the Great Tenma War occurred, where armies of angels descended from the heavens to completely annihilate any nation whose technology had grown too advanced.

It was the ultimate cosmic glass ceiling. The higher powers of this world were terrified that humanity, if left unchecked, would build a new Tower of Babel and challenge the heavens. So, they routinely bombed civilization back to the Stone Age to prevent humanity from destroying itself—or the gods.

Suzuki thought it was incredibly arrogant of the gods. A planet was a small, finite space. As populations expanded, any rational species had to progress. They needed to conquer the skies, the solar system, and eventually the universe just to survive. Stifling that drive was just bad for business.

But cosmic wars were a problem for another day. Right now, his immediate focus was on the devastatingly attractive Elf currently sharing his room.

”Hmm...” Anrietta stretched her arms above her head, her leather armor creaking softly against her chest. ”I feel sticky, and a bath sounds nice... but I’m honestly too lazy. We’ve traveled a long way. Skipping a bath for one night won’t kill you, you know.”

She laid down on the plush fur bed, rolling onto her stomach. Propping her chin on her hands, she shot him a teasing, wicked smirk.

”I never would have guessed a ’rough and tough’ merchant like you was such a spoiled little boy who throws a tantrum if he can’t bathe every day.”

In this medieval world, a daily hot bath was an absolute luxury reserved for high nobility.

”...Is it a crime to want basic hygiene?” Suzuki deadpanned.

If she was going to ruthlessly mock him, he decided to completely scrap his plan of inviting her into his magical, temperature-controlled Penthouse to use the jacuzzi. She could suffer in the humidity.

”Go on, then! Go freeze in the river. You’re smelly anyway!” Anrietta giggled, waving her hand dismissively to shoo him away.

”Oh, really? But...”

Instead of leaving, Suzuki smoothly closed the distance, leaning down dangerously close to her neck, inhaling deeply.

”...What do you think you’re doing?”

Although he hadn’t actually touched her, the sudden proximity of his broad chest and the intense way he breathed in her scent sent a sharp, electric jolt straight through her body. Her breath hitched, and a deep crimson flush instantly painted her cheeks. Fortunately for her pride, the dim lighting of the tent hid her flustered reaction.

”I’m just wondering why you don’t smell like sweat at all,” Suzuki whispered, his voice low and rich.

”I-It’s a maiden’s secret~!”

Anrietta quickly recovered, hugging the pillow tighter to her chest. She shifted her hips, deliberately showcasing her incredibly well-toned thighs, the plush curve of her buttocks, and the dip of her slender waist. She turned her head, flashing him an inviting, mischievous smile.

”...” Suzuki’s eyes tracked the movement perfectly.

”When you get back from shivering in the cold river, maybe I’ll tell you,” she teased.

”...”

What a tease, Suzuki thought, huffing a quiet laugh. He turned around, preparing to leave.

But before he took a single step—

SLAP!

A crisp, incredibly sharp smack echoed loudly inside the tent.

The perfectly round, bouncy flesh of Anrietta’s rear end trembled violently as Suzuki delivered a firm, open-handed slap right against her supple cheek.

”You—! You rude little brat!”

Anrietta yelped, her eyes flying wide in utter, paralyzed shock. She had never, in her three hundred years of life, expected someone to boldly smack her backside so brazenly!

”You said I was just a harmless little kid, right?” Suzuki smirked, looking at her over his shoulder. ”Isn’t it perfectly normal for a kid to be a little rude?”

”...”

Anrietta was completely struck speechless. She could only stare in wide-eyed disbelief as Suzuki casually strolled out of the tent. Even long after the tent flap fell shut, she found herself instinctively rubbing her stinging backside, her skin still burning hot from the heavy, masculine imprint of his palm against her flesh.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Suzuki followed the directions the Hobgoblins had given him and easily located the river.

Stripping off his tailored clothes, he waded directly into the fast-flowing water. The biting chill was an instant shock to the system, but to his Enlightened, hyper-optimized body, it felt incredibly refreshing.

”Man, this water is pristine...”

He wouldn’t dare drink it, though. He knew perfectly well that even without modern industrial pollution, medieval waterways were teeming with parasites, monster runoff, and bacteria. But for washing off the grime of travel, it was perfect.

As the cool water cascaded down his lean, heavily corded muscles, his heightened senses suddenly picked up a distinct rustle in the underbrush.

”Who’s there?”

Suzuki spun around, his piercing gaze locking instantly onto a thick patch of bushes on the riverbank.

A figure squeaked in absolute panic, tumbling out of the foliage and landing on her knees in the dirt.

”I-I-I am so sorry, Suzuki-sama!”

It was one of the newly evolved female Goblinas. She was clutching her thin, rustic tunic tightly against her heaving chest, her face flushed as red as a ripe tomato. Her large, doll-like eyes darted frantically away from his bare, dripping torso, though she clearly couldn’t help but sneak a peek at his thoroughly exposed physique.

”I-I didn’t know you were bathing here! So... um... so I just...” she stammered, her voice pitching high with intense embarrassment.

”You were peeking at me?”

”...”

The Goblina froze, completely unable to formulate a lie under his intense, unbothered stare.

Suzuki stood silently in the waist-deep water, crossing his arms as he stared at the heavily blushing, highly developed monster girl kneeling in the moonlight.

”Hmm....”