Chapter 69: Ray Of Hope And The Salvation
Unfortunately, what was the point of being together if they couldn’t pluck the real fruit behind that thin layer of skin? A two-inch-long twig couldn’t even reach the peel, let alone the actual fruit. It was just a useless endeavor for those heavily pent-up MILFs. That was also the exact reason why the festivals were going to be held—for the sole purpose of getting those MILFs to interact with each other so they could gossip and share their experiences.
Too bad... Only bad news circulated through the entire village, as there was not a single married MILF who had managed to get her fruit plucked away.
Today might be fortunate, as the savior was finally in the village... which was why all the MILFs put so much effort into organizing the upcoming festival. And that was the sole reason why that grandma invested so much energy walking her old body around just to spread the good news.
A ray of hope and the salvation of those who were in desperate need...
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
The barking of a dog reverberated as it ran up, wiggling its tail at the new stranger. Even the dog recognized the savior, not to mention those MILFs.
The man turned his head, surprised to see a young, handsome man standing not too far away. A fresh-faced youth who had just ventured into the modest grape farm.
"Good morning, young man!" The man smiled as he looked at the new face in the village... He didn’t recognize the boy at all, as he was tall and exceptionally handsome.
"Good morning to you too, mister," Owen said sheepishly, as the man was still standing a bit far from him.
"Ohh! You must be the son of ’Cuckke,’ your mother’s husband, young man!" His voice was filled with enthusiasm and excitement.
’Cough... cough... Shit... That’s why I don’t want to call my father by his name, because it’s so bad.’ Owen coughed internally. Imagine the name of your so-called father being Cuckke...
It was like his fate to get cuckolded was already sealed!
As strange as it was... Most of the names of the pathetic, pitiful men here were incredibly weird.
Owen didn’t even want to think about the name of his Aunt Morenne’s husband, as it was just as bad... Not to mention the name of his Auntie Pamela’s husband! One thing was for sure—the creator of this game wanted him to completely forget their names.
Owen shook his head, pushing the thought out of his mind to avoid total brain rot. It was bad for his otherwise well-working mind.
"Haha, yes, mister, I am indeed the humble son of my father." Owen smiled as he looked at the man. He could already smell another husband who was bound to get his ass cuckolded in a matter of time.
The scent of a MILF definitely lingered on this grape farm... a good scent for a future victi— no, a MILF who needed saving from the hands of these pitiful men.
He really was a benevolent son and young man; the system was just a hater when it came to his way of saving people.
[Shameless host, I hope your cock splits in two by some pitiful hands. ]
I can’t hear anything at all; I can’t even read... Owen discarded the remarks of his tsundere system as his focus shifted back to the grape-farming, soon-to-be-cuckolded man.
"You don’t have to call me ’Mister,’ young man. I’m a close friend of your father, after all!" he spoke as he patted Owen’s shoulder.
Unfortunately, he had to crane his neck just to look at Owen’s face.
He was truly unfortunate, as his height was only 5’6"—so small compared to Owen’s well-built, lean body that reached a solid 6’0". Owen could only look down at the man with pitying eyes.
Not only was he short, but he was also small all around.
He must have been wearing a raincoat and holding an umbrella when the rain of luck happened... a truly pitiful man.
"Haha... okay, mister, then I will call you ’Uncle’ if it’s okay with you," Owen agreed, but his mind immediately started working overtime again.
’The relationship between this man and his father hadn’t been close at all when he played the game, yet now it was completely different. Snap out of it... You are the one acting now, so cement it into your mind that everything happening here is completely different. He still needed to fix his shitty habit of relying entirely on the game.’ It was just muscle memory, since he had only arrived here three days ago.
He had to warm up his mind every single time to remind himself that he was the main character now.
He had only just arrived, so it was to be expected, but repeating these reminders to himself was getting a bit boring and felt like a dumb routine.
"That’s good to hear, young man. How about you come and see my beautiful, modest farm?" The man offered, walking over and pushing the small swing of the wooden fence open.
He was overjoyed that his friend’s son had come to visit his small garden, and he wanted to show his goodwill to his nephew.
Unfortunately for him, Owen wasn’t there because he wanted to see his face; he was a hunter rat that smelled something delicious. A busty, ripe grapefruit.
"Unfortunately, my wife is not here at the moment; she’s preparing for the festival as we speak." The man plucked a whole cluster of perfectly ripened grapes and handed them to Owen.
Owen had already grabbed a basket since the man insisted it was fine. At least the man was good-hearted, even if he was small.
Even if you are small, a big heart can still do its work... probably. It was still a good aspect of being a man.
Do good, and maybe your luck might actually work out well.
"I heard that you came from the metropolis, young man... so how was life over there?" The man was unfortunate in that he didn’t have the luxury or the opportunity to travel outside just like Owen’s father to explore the wild and bustling streets.
Though, he didn’t regret it since he had a loving wife.
"Yes, Uncle, it’s not bad, but I definitely prefer the serenity of the village more." Owen didn’t want to bring up his actual, shitty past life.