After a thirty minute break, another ritual begins.
"Looks like you're here."
From next door, I heard the guild leader.
Looking on the stage, Mr. Cool, with his gold embroidered longcoat "Toga" in white, walks quietly.
Standing in front of Mr. Cool, the clergyman who says Mogomogo.
I give Mr. Cool's head on his knees, many times a scepter.
As God's deputy, I managed to hear those words cut off.
The "ritual of sprinkling Shota's first product with women's club winners" is about to begin.
"Hmm?"
From the venue, a modest but yellow voice rises. When I look at you, I wonder if you've become a teenager and the boy is in my eyes.
An old man with a strong side came to me with words.
"Like a girl, I can see you"
Blonde straight enough to hide her ears on fair skin, separating it from the middle.
I guess I feel neutral because of my neat face and how young I am.
No wonder they call me a girl.
"Sure, that's right"
A chorus of chopping breath arrives in my ear that snorts.
Shota's appearance and flashy atmosphere seemed to give the women in the venue a big sigh of relief.
Mr. Cool turns a blind eye.
(Wow)
I accidentally wrinkled between my eyebrows.
Mr. Cool's eyes are like a laughing demon. I've only seen a face like this on a trump joker.
(... looks happy, most importantly)
I change my mind and congratulate Mr. Cool, my Phantom, on his first meal (unicorn).
And in the quiet air, the ritual finally began.
Mr. Cool stands on his knees, aligning his shota with the height of his gaze.
And when he took Shota's hands, he went to his chest.
Shota is thoughtfully illuminated. Her face is bright red.
"Cute!
An aunt nearby makes a golden noise, intolerable.
By the way, Explosion Bottom Sister, she's not here.
He doesn't want to come near me because of yesterday's aftertaste or anything. Unfortunately, I'm sitting alone in a remote seat.
Shota started rubbing reluctantly.
The interest must be very, very sparkling.
Here Mr. Cool shows the depth of an adult woman's nostalgia and smiles calmly, doing nothing.
Thoughtfully contradict and react.
The way it is, it looks like a poor girl to blame for her skilled father. Shota or Mr. Cool, I'm not going to know which is the first one.
"A bit of an act, wouldn't it be easier to bruise?
An old man on the strong side says dissatisfied. The atmosphere of the venue is also close to it.
But I couldn't agree. I know about Mr. Cool, but that's why.
(Probably, I mean that one)
If the opponent becomes the first, Mr. Cool's sensitivity breaks through the ceiling in an instant and rises to the height where the eagle dances.
That reaction is not an act.
You're disappointed.
This isn't Mr. Cool, it's Shota.
Again, they're different when they're responsive.
They react violently, one hand at a time. As a man, I wouldn't be happier.
However, I still lack experience. Desire is out front.
The hand touching the chest becomes so abusive that it is appropriate to grasp the expression, and the act of rubbing changes to gripping.
"Absolutely hurts, that one"
Worrying squeaky, strong old man.
Shortly afterwards, Mr. Cool's voice sounds loud. The strong old man frowned feeling sorry for him.
(No, that's a voice of joy)
I get it.
It's not a groan from pain, like the strong old man imagined. Inside, it is packed with a moist sweetness, like a half-life dried persimmon.
If you're a normal woman, definitely a painful occasion. But Mr. Cool instantly converts the stimulus into pleasure.
Mr. Cool is special.
Shota, confused by Mr. Cool like that, blames him hard.
As much as I want to, it's rambling. I don't have the very idea of doing anything about it.
But that act, which should have obsessed me, suddenly stops.
On a good note, Shota was looking down with a groan.
"Ho."
The guild leader grins and squeals. The look belongs to the elderly, keeping an eye on the immature young.
Shota must have been overexcited, a flashing young man slamming a bump and a mat.
"... is this the end of it?"
I ask a strong old man.
Strong old man, too, doesn't seem to know. Come on, and twist your neck.
"If you don't let me in, I won't give you anything."
The guild chief taught me.
If you ask me, it sure is.
If I graduate with that, I'll be talking about what purity is.
"Exactly, you maintain your posture"
The old man on the strong side, he seems envious.
The groin of the first object, despite overflowing it, remains at a large elevation angle. Fine dust hasn't broken that attitude either.
I remember myself. Back then, I could afford three in a row, if not more. If there had been a raw beauty in front of her, there might not have been a limit.
Mr. Cool, too, just needs to lead the way from here, that's what I think.
Stop standing on your knees and put your ass down on the mat. Then open your legs towards the shota and take a welcoming position.
"Motivated."
I understand Mr. Cool's intentions and frown.
"You're motivated."
"Finally."
Strong old man, guild leader goes on as well.
At first glance, it sounds like you're saying the same thing, but mine isn't like the other two.
My motivation is to play tricks.
Mr. Cool, who had moved the shota between his legs, lifted his hips more than necessary, on the verge of contact.
"Become?"
An old man on the strong side leaks a surprise.
Because in the position where the tip of the first object touched, the chrysanthemums blossomed.
I shake my head all the time.
Mislead the first thing and eat it in the back. This is Mr. Cool's favorite play.
(But I didn't know you'd do it here)
Now we are in the middle of a ritual dedicated to God.
My greed prevails over my awe of God. Mr. Cool's business is far deeper than I thought.
It would only have been possible to win so far if there had been a boost by industry.
"No! No!
The strong old man shouts desperately. It's not just the old man, other gentlemen and ladies are a big chorus.
But the voice, unfortunately, does not reach Shota.
Because Mr. Cool was pinching Shota's head with both hands and blocking her ears.
(You expected that)
I read Mr. Cool's thoughts.
It wasn't a thought, it was a motivation from the beginning.
The first thing slowly breaks into the daisy flower.
Mr. Cool brings joy to the surface. I've lived for this, I'm just saying.
(In fact, I guess so)
Mr. Cool's purpose in life, it is no longer an exaggeration.
As I give up, I watch Mr. Cool eat his first meal (unicorn).
Shota reached her hopes lightly after a few forward and backward moves.
Mr. Cool is shivering with joy at the heat he feels inside.
The venue squeaks.
The priests gather on stage and begin discussions.
Mr. Cool sat down with a sobering look on his face, and Shota had a buttcake on her, and she was stunned.
"As a result of the consultation, the present act does not dedicate itself. That's what I decided."
One of the clerics tells him to the audience.
And I invited Mr. Cool.
(Behind you, can't you admit it)
The cleric is giving some attention to Mr. Cool standing in front of him.
I suppose you're saying that to lead it right.
Though Mr. Cool snorts strangely, I've noticed. The corner of his mouth is slightly curved up.
(You were aiming this far!
I'm stunned at Mr. Cool's outlook.
What a schemer.
I was expecting you to start all over again.
Now Mr. Cool must be thinking in his mind, delicious twice at a time, etc.
He's horrible, my friend.
I talk to myself, feeling cold in my spine.
But I was still sweet.
The world always goes above people's expectations.
What I didn't expect happened suddenly in front of me.
"~ ~!"
It appears as a sudden scream of Mr. Cool standing before the clergy.
(Damn, I missed it)
I was too distracted by Mr. Cool's ingenuity to look at Shota.
I want you to think about it and see, right in front of Shota, there's Mr. Cool's big ass in shape.
And Mr. Cool is in the middle of being coached by a cleric.
Completely defenseless. Every time I bow my head to a cleric, my shaky ass.
Shota can't resist that charm.
Shota is now being attacked by Mr. Cool and stabbed through the back. And give me a daisy ring.
That's right. With Shota's knowledge now, this is the only place to aim.
In an unexpected gift, Mr. Cool's knee melts at the same time as his heart.
And his body, pulled by gravity, collapsed forward.
A cleric who rushes to avoid sideways.
In front of that astonishing cleric, Shota grabs Mr. Cool's ass meat on all fours, rambling.
And I started dancing hard.
(Back in the back!
For the first step taken on its own will, it is too great.
Seeing Shota keep headbanging made me anxious.
I can't imagine Shota's future.
I guess I've reached it, Shota's trembling like a stiff, sticking around.
(... not yet, not over)
Shota's Sage Time is just a few seconds away.
The impulse of the fool dominates the body and immediately resumes the dance.
Shota in an excited state won't fit twice or three times.
"Is that not a good idea?
An old man on the strong side is pointing at Shota.
There it was, until earlier, not an unfamiliar pure angel.
The eyes are triangular, the corners of the mouth are suspended at a steep angle, and from the half-opened lips, the teeth that have eaten up with the saliva glance.
It was already a ghost face.
The ghost growls and shivers his body again.
And after a little while, he started waving again.
To too many anomalies, private language is flying aloud in the audience. It is no longer a ritual atmosphere.
(First time eating unicorn.) Didn't you create a monster in this world?
Shota is undergoing transformation into an organism that even makes her feel dangerous.
Mr. Cool, who caused it, knocked it down a long time ago. Not much of happiness, its heart seems to be flying to the pure earth.
I move my eyes toward the next guild leader as I lay a cold sweat on my forehead. The Alliance Commander remained silent from earlier.
……
The guild chief smiled calmly.
"What's going on?
I don't know why, I ask.
I remember when I was younger.
I was often stunned by the words, which contained sounds of nostalgia.
"... Really?"
I used to squeeze out the words.
Immediately after that, the situation moves.
Several clerics began to climb the stage.
I don't know how, but I guess I'm going to get things sorted out.
(Whoa?)
The priests strangled the ghosts with wings and pulled them out with strength.
The ghost keeps giving a scream that raw trees will be torn apart. I feel like I'm touching you if you're not connected, as if that's what you're suing me for.
Another group lifts Mr. Cool on his back from both sides, shuddering with his glaring eyes.
Ghosts and Mr. Cool, the two sets of clerics who held each one up, pull over to the center.
(Will this be forced to merge)
I feel intent.
The pair came from the front of each other and hit them both.
That's right, Cleric, it looks rough, and it's in a proper regular position.
Power returns to Mr. Cool's, unfocused eyes. And shortly afterwards, he growled wildly.
The same goes for ghosts. It gives you a fierce roar, like even a warcraft escapes.
"What?"
But I immediately divulge my doubts.
Because the priests hung the combined ghosts and men to peel them off.
Ghosts, like kittens taken away from them, also ravage the fierceness into the dew. Mr. Cool had his hips up and down, too.
(Whoa!
I was poked at the intention once again.
The priests bumped the two together again. Naturally, it merges.
Peel and bump again. It's an artificial piston movement. Meanwhile, ghosts and people keep screaming their throats all cracked too.
The sight is as if, yes, as if.
(Night bell)
The view reminded me of the events of the new year, along with nostalgia.
My heart is filled with kindness and serenity. I didn't think so, put my hands together for the two of us, hoping.
(Hope you continue to have fun)
And by the time the sweaty cleric approached the limit of his strength, the bell was over ringing and Shota offered purity to God.