Floating in the autumn sky, high clouds. The sun rising further up into it pours a soft light from directly above.
The pilots' school's regular practical exams ended the morning section, and now they had lunch in thoughtful places, from the audience to the athletes.
"That's amazing. Everyone's looking at us."
Whispering from next door to me, a thin young man with a grass-fed line.
This is outside the grand auditorium. It is one of the table sets, placed on the lawn.
Running her gaze around subtly, the gentlemen and ladies sitting in the other seats were discussing something that cared about this one.
"Well, we have all the protagonists."
With my face back, I take a look around the table.
Beginning with the instructional light patrol teacher sitting next to the left, Mr. Cool, not the queen, followed by a junior with black hair tits.
Semifinals starting this afternoon. The four are the contestants.
"If you ask me, right?"
Nodding on my right, grass-fed mechanic. And beyond that, she is a red-haired three-knit Sobacus girl who lost to her junior and stayed in her best eight.
(It's just a conspicuous group, someone might come and call)
I thought so and often looked at how things were going, but the only thing I could point at was my gaze.
Put your face back on the table and convince Teacher Light to look aside.
(That's the brilliance of the finest whorehouse. Too dazzling, I guess I'm distracted)
In particular, Mr. Cool is not as soft as Teaching Light Patrol Sensei.
A face that is neat enough to feel cold and a dynamite body that goes with it, although it does not extend to an exploded bottom sister.
There is also a small number of mouths, and its presence is as flowers blooming on the cliffs of the alpine mountains.
(Nice to see, but you're scared to step in any further)
Mr. Cool puts it in front like a western-style version of the Matsukado lunch box, stabs it with a fork in the compartment, and transports it to his mouth. I exhale small as I look at the moving jaw line on its side.
The hanging of voices would be about next to Queenized Plain Son.
"Yummy?"
"Yeah, great"
Meanwhile, this one is a herbivore mechanic and three redheads knitting. While I was sinking into my thoughts, we started feeding each other.
I bought her lunch at the street, and it's not special. But while holding both cheeks, the herbivore mechanic states, 'It's so good, it's the first time I've been born,' etc.
(After all, is cooking affectionate)
You look happy, I'm happy to watch.
If you move your gaze next to it, a small, shoulder-width junior was talking to the plain boy.
I was worried they would get used to the place, but they were worried.
(I wonder what the topic is)
I was a little concerned, so I'll get my ears up.
"... did you make this yourself?
This is what brunette big junior said.
He peeks into the contents of Plain Son's basket with a rugged look and compares it to his sandwich set.
"Yeah, that's right. But I made it for my brother."
I'm a plain kid who answers when asked, but for some reason my voice seems small and embarrassed. Even though I doubt it for a moment, it iced when I saw what was taken out of the basket.
(Brilliant)
Plain child sandwiches were processed into animal shapes on colorful tops and were very handy.
And I guess the reason she blushed was because she felt too childish for herself.
"Oh my God, this is so cute!
With the voice of a redhead stick woman flying from the side, everyone's attention is focused on animal sandwiches. It makes me feel more impressed everywhere.
"I didn't let you taste it.... spicy as it looks"
After reaching out without waiting for a reply and throwing it in his mouth, he knits three redheads complaining face to face. Is this freedom only if it is between older young women?
By the way, the reason Black Tits junior's expression was so rude is not because 'I lost with my cooking arm'.
(This world. At least the King's Capital doesn't have a culture of respect for 'handicrafts')
The whole family, eating out in the street in the morning is normal.
For this reason, the kitchen only has the extent to which hair has grown in the sink in every house. This place is all good, except for Plain Son.
(I envy that one. I know)
Hard language for everyone, black tights junior. But there are a lot of little things that belong to cute animals.
(One, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one,
In front of the mirror in the playroom of the whorehouse. Reminds me of a handbag that was sticking out from a grown-up design handbag placed there.
There were stretching round dogs and cats embroidered narrowly.
Then I'll make it a meal.
While looking at the plain child in the questioning attack, open the basket you had placed on the lawn and put the contents on the retrieval table.
Naturally, it belongs to a stall, but it's only a little expensive and subtly different.
"Chief, could this be"
Mr. Cool asks, I nod. Thinly slice the elongated bread and pinch the vegetables, eggs, or meat in one dish. So-called 'panino' or something called 'milan sandwich'.
The difference between them in general would be that they reduce the fat content. Evidence is not stained with wrapper paper or oil.
"Delicious and healthy. I've been doing it south of Pleasure Street lately, it belongs to my grandfather's stall."
Me purposefully returning it out loud so the people around me can hear it.
"The landmark was placed on the stall, I wonder if the sign 'When I turned the banana skin up to half, it was the cucumber that showed up from inside'. Pretty obvious, I think you'll find out soon enough."
I'll give you something nice, but for that matter it's expensive, and my grandfather's stall didn't come downtown.
I really like it, so I want to avoid getting folded up.
(May our customers get a little more)
It promotes every opportunity with its desire.
From what Mr. Cool has reacted to, I guess it's as rumoured as it sounds.
"Well, a glass of vegetables. Sounds like a good balance."
Teaching light patrol teacher also showed interest, so another push.
"Whatever you say, because your body is capital. We need to spend a lot of money on food."
Initially, Grandpa said he intended to sell it to his student counterparts. 'I want the young people to grow up well'.
But unfortunately, the students don't have money, they eat big food, and they don't have health concerns.
In terms of results, they didn't look forward to it.
(If it's for my body, it loosens my purse string. We have to sue those people)
Now, on my advice, I'm changing targets to men and women who work in whorehouses.
By the way, I'm the one promoting the ladies. The brothers who work in the women's whorehouse are put in charge by a comrade, a tanned boy.
"Try it"
I imitated a herbivore mechanic and told the teaching light patrol teacher, "Ahem." He put a little light in my mouth, and then he 'ahem' my lunch to me.
"It's great. I've never tasted so good."
I would say the same thing to an earlier herbivore. Again, from the hands of a beautiful woman, the flavor seems to vary from one stage to another.
"Well, thank you", "No, it's true," etc. all flirting a little bit, Mr. Cool called me.
"May I have a treat, too?"
Naturally, I admit, 'ahem' to her, too. And then again, black tights junior, it goes on with plain kids.
The herbivore opened his mouth, so he took the mustard and pushed it against his nose.
"It's terrible, Mr. Tauro"
Complaining herbivore mechanic and daughter-in-law taking out handkerchiefs and spoiling them. Us putting two of those other worlds aside and having a blast talking about Grandpa's stall.
My stomach swelled there too, so I decided to behave as a dessert fruit to everyone.
(I thought it would be a lot, but this number would be just fine)
Reminds me of the five-year-old larvae of a magpie butterfly as I reach for the basket beneath my feet.
"Everybody's Probably"
I was picking it in the morning because of the cancer, and I was advised to pick up Ibo's legs and take more.
As a producer, you want a lot of people to taste it.
"If you like."
That's what I said and arranged at the table, shining like a ruby, but also super large grains of rice like Micah in Wenzhou.
In addition to its shape, it is a beautiful shape that everyone can think of.
(It is a fruit made by the Spirit Beast, born from the manure of "The Wise Man of the Forest". Taste it.)
Of course, properly washed.
A sigh of surprise and admiration leaks from those who surround the table.
"Could it be a gift from the vice chief?"
To Mr. Cool's inquiry, I nod.
"And also from the general. I want to reward my lovely men for their hard work."
The Choice of the Horse is General Dangolow. Deputy Imoske was a watermelon reckoner, but it was heavy, so I dismissed it.
"Thank you"
Teaching light patrol teacher pinched by me and Mr. Cool and listening to meaningless conversations. But she doesn't seem to care.
He thinks I'm the host of the "Death Squad".
"I went in Jayanne's holding room, acting instruction for Mr. Cool"
Probably because they saw this.
A night raid landing that allowed Mr. Cool to go several times to rob people of the first thing to sleep.
"Sneak into the bedroom of a stranger, swing his hips across the top without letting him sleep until morning"
The best way to succeed in this is to make them think 'it's a dream'. The pre-practice was in Jaanne's holding room, but the instructor, Professor Light Patrol, came in along the way.
"Well, that sounds fun."
Mr. Cool wears clothes like stage costumes and has a series of unusual lines. Teaching that figure, Professor Light Patrol was surprised at first.
But he misunderstood me in a good direction, as he continued to look. In the last, he even began to applaud me.
"There are plenty of them, don't hesitate to eat them"
The beauty of the rice noodles surrounds the table, which was just a view. I prompted it again, and it was in my mouth from the tip.
"Sometimes it's a treat, but Mr. Tauro's fruit is something else, isn't it?"
Me, said the grass-fed mechanic, smiling and nodding as I twisted to half at once. Teaching Professor Light is rounding his eyes and pressing his cheek with one hand, and Mr. Cool is adding even more sharpness to his eyesight.
But I hadn't noticed. While eating the rice cake, Teacher Kazuo and the others are keenly observing you.
(Red butterfly shaped mask. If you take that off, it looks like you're going back to your previous girlfriend)
This is the whining of Teaching Light Patrol Sensei's heart. While my heart is melted by the scent of a jade coming out of my nose, my consciousness doesn't let go of Plain Son.
(Again, she's "Casabel's Storm". In terms of power at the whorehouse, it would be at least the same as me)
If you are the number one in the shadow of Jaanne, your opponent is the sign queen of Casabel.
The collision between the two is a serious battle between the three culminating families.
(It was worth coming to the pilots' school. Such a nice opponent, I can't give it away to anyone else)
Teaching light patrol teacher to narrow his eyes and loosen his cheeks.
"It's only by fighting the strong that people can grow"
Teaching that I believe. Professor Light's hobby is to polish himself. I can't get my chest to squeal in a match that's usually not going to happen.
What worries me is that I will be defeated before I fight her.
(One more reason why you can't beat me)
He shifted his eyes to his colleagues without changing his calm grin.
Meanwhile, Mr. Cool, with his eyes turned, is also thinking about Plain Son.
Too little information.
I am aware of the gaze from Teaching Light Patrol Sensei, but I don't care. Because I know exactly what she likes when she wants to fight strong enemies.
Teaching Light Patrol Sensei now would be the same as a beast whose prey is no longer being plundered.
(Not at all, same as always)
Slightly shrugging shoulders, Mr. Cool. She overlays her coworker's smile with the intimidating face of a carnivore.
When you exhale small, you return your consciousness to plain child again.
(Does that mean you were holding your breath until your regular practice exam started?)
Advanced classes eligible to compete. It was a total no-mark because I was stopping at that lower limit.
I don't know anything about it. On the contrary, I would be well researched about myself.
(They did it. Brilliant)
Mr. Cool flying a white flag in his heart. The defeat of the intelligence battle had to be acknowledged.
But the truth is, Plain Son isn't trying to hide it or anything. If I hadn't listened to the Niyanya Laughter brothers in the washroom, I would have lost them all in the qualifying round without being transformed.
But I think, "If I were you," so Mr. Cool reads.
(I won't disturb you, so just fight in the semifinals. And I was wondering if you could expose the bottom of the target to me)
Looking at Teaching Light Patrol Sensei, who cheeks happily, Mr. Cool thinks. The combination, by the way, has not yet been announced.
Unlike her colleagues, she seeks only the result of 'victory'. I want to make it easier and win because my gaze looks to the finals.
Teaching Patrol, who was gazed at, tilted his neck, knowing or not, and had a smile like a spring flower.
(This is delicious)
And this is, brunette, big junior.
Eating the fruit of the first Spirit Beast Mark of my life, I am devastated.
(Not too sweet, not too sour, and not too blue odor)
Look at the biting surface and take a deep sigh.
Black tights junior doesn't know that Plain Son is the Queen of Casabel. But it won't matter much.
There was a strong enemy named Jaanne's pair from the beginning, so he didn't think about it except turning his full power to the opponent in front of him.
(What, what texture and taste. If this is a snack, what have you eaten so far?)
The girl who finishes eating and exhales deeply into the remnants. Fly there, the voice of the mentor she calls' The Teacher's Hall '.
"Want another one?
"I'll have it!
She was a junior who instantly stretched her spine and responded.