7. Nero is a bad writer
The garden had shed its winter coat and was now filled with the earthy scent of damp soil dressed up with the fresh fragrances of decorated flowers. The sun lit up the stage for the lively birds chirping on the branches and the humming of tireless bees dancing between the flowers seeking honey.
However, the bustling of guests mingling and dining in the garden drowned all that beauty of nature. Young men and women were rushing, serving cocktails, or attending tables to serve the guests.
Nero was one among them.
Between the chatter of gossiping aunties and the boasting of old timers, the young men were tirelessly throwing out their sharpened flirting skills and best jokes, like buzzing bees on a mission to taste the sweetest honey.
If the mission was successful, they could taste the reward during the dance in the evening.
Nero quickly scanned through the place.
The groom and bride attended to the guests with a flattering smile that seemed molded into their faces while hiding their exhaustion. They had taken a brief respite to dine and Nero himself had attended them, ensuring everything was okay. They would only get a moment to free themselves and relax after the necklace exchange. Until then they have to keep up the facade.
The initial hustle and bustle in the dining area were slowly coming down, as most guests returned to work. The next hectic episode will only start in the evening so the bees could focus slightly on wooing for honey.
Since he had no interest in doing that, he checked to see who was going for whom so he could enjoy the drama later. He noticed a lot of guys trying to bite more than they chew while women selectively signaled their interest. He had even spotted the brat Jacob trying his shot for a girl older than his age.
He didn’t notice any change in Jacob. Nero concluded he must have put off reading the book later since there is a wedding today.
Now then, I need to slip off from here. He didn’t know whether the gossip these days was not juicy enough since Granny had seemed to be leaving events like these now more, often claiming she was tired. He didn’t hate parties like these if they were not draining him that much. But Nero knew everyone would nag and force him to find a partner later to dance, even if he showed disinterest.
As Nero stood there, pondering how to exit, it took him a couple of seconds to register Mrs. Sharron making her way over to him.
She was wearing a sleeveless, conservative, and darker black gown. The fabric clung to her hourglass figure, fully displaying her mesmerizing thin waist while her plumb chest pushed against her clothes to the limits. She leisurely walked near to him like a cozy neighbor from next door. Nero tried to speak, but before he could utter a word, she spoke first.
“We need to talk. Meet me at my home in an hour.”
Her voice was eerily even, devoid of the warmth of a casual greeting. Nero’s stupefied gaze met hers. It might appear that Mrs. Sharron was merrily greeting him with a smile from a distance, but only he could see it never reaching her eyes.
If looks could kill, he would have been dead already.
“Why are you making that face? Jacob has confessed everything. He had shown me the tutor’s reward he earned for showing progress. I never expected you to be like this, Nero.”
“Mrs. Sharron, let me..”
“Enough. I don’t want to hear what you have to say here. This is a joyous occasion, and I don’t wish to make a fuss about your eccentricities. Let’s take this back to my home.” Her glare, akin to Medusa’s, left him petrified to the spot.
“Don’t forget, meet me in one hour,” her voice faded as she exited.
All men, old or young, stopped what they had been doing to glance one last time at the siren leaving the wedding.
Sharron’s black gown from behind pulled together at her narrow waistline, perfectly outlining her hourglass figure and filling her round supple bottom. It was a sight to see her from behind with a braided ponytail and those juicy flesh swaying against one another inside her black gown as she walked lazily. Everyman felt the blood rush through them when they focused on this mature woman, seemingly carefully sculpted by the god’s hands.
Except for Nero.
His mind was in overdrive from what had just happened.
How did she find out so early? Did the brat snitch on me? No. That’s not likely.
Did she grab it from Jacob when he started reading the book, or did she discover it when checking through his stuff? Ah, these are not important. The only thing that matters is Mrs. Sharron didn’t seem flattered by what I did.
But why? Didn’t my powers suggest her hidden longing for this, and I had a good odd against her? Are my bloodline powers all bogus then? No, maybe I interrupted them wrongly. Mrs. Sharron might have liked these sorts of things, but not with me. Or maybe my power revealed my chances against her, but my approach has tipped her off. I need to have a better grasp of my abilities from now on.
Even when things had gone off the rail, Nero was glad he presented the manga as a second-hand book rather than his creation. This meant this was not some serious offense. It was normal for a guy his age to do these things, right? And instead of causing a scene, Mrs. Sharron wants to handle things privately between us. Maybe she wants to leave everything behind with a lengthy lecture and warning.
Now all I need is to bite the bullet and lower my head.
“Oye, Big bro Nero, why are you spacing out? We need help over here. Damn, people seem to come in with rented stomachs.”
Nero’s musings were broken, and he pulled himself back to work before slipping off toward Mrs. Sharron’s home at the designated time.
As Nero walked to Mrs. Sharron’s house, his heart thundered against his chest. He was aware things weren’t that big of a deal, and he could navigate his way out if he could effectively convey his thoughts to her.
But that ‘if’ was the problem.
Nero’s most glaring weakness was his crippling communication skills. It was like he skipped the lesson to make a normal human interaction.
When confronted with complex problems, He often comes through them by attentively observing, analyzing, or tenaciously tackling them head-on. Convincing others, acknowledging their perspective while actively listening to their concerns, and finding solutions was not his typical way of operating. He preferred solitude, as he rarely desired to be part of a team unless he could assert his authority as the decision-maker at the top to control all elements.
This personality was also behind the charm demon powers, which centered on persuading others to do their bidding using charisma, which didn’t mesh well with him.
Granny shattered his turtle shell, helping him understand that his antisocial attitude was causing more harm than good. Since then, he put a lot of effort into appearing as amicable as possible and has come leaps and bounds in opening himself to others.
The question was whether those efforts would be enough to free him out of the sticky situation.
Phew… come on, loosen up. I just have to appear apologetic and promise not to repeat this.
The notion of understanding something and then adjusting one’s behavior accordingly were two different actions.
While Nero knew things were not that bad, the fact he had to come clean and stand in front of someone disgracefully did nothing to calm his nerves.
Despite feeling antsy, Nero eventually made his way to Sharron’s house.
As he walked past her white fence, Nero was greeted with the sweet, heady scent of blooming flowers, each exuding its unique fragrance. The vibrant hues of the blossoms were a feast for the eyes, from the fiery reds and oranges of the zinnias to the soft pinks of the roses. Normally, he would have taken a moment to appreciate Mrs. Sharron’s meticulously nurtured garden, but today he barely spared it a glance, his distracted mind was focused on whatever awaited him.
He stood in front of her half-open door before calling out to her.
“Mrs. Sharron…”
“Come inside”
As Nero unfastened his footwear, Sharron reached her doorstep. She hadn’t changed her black gown but undid her braided ponytail.
She opened her door wide, creating a welcoming entrance for him, and as soon as he stepped inside, she tightly closed it shut.
As the sound of Sharron bolting the door resounded in the hall, Nero looked at her with confusion.
“Go sit over there. Let me get you something to drink”
“Ah,.. There is no need for that. I just finished lunch from there right now.”
“A glass of water, then?”
Feeling it would be awkward to reject her twice, Nero nodded his head and sat in their dining chair.
Sharron brought a glass of water from the kitchen and handed it over to him while she sat in a chair nearby. They were close enough now that he could smell the flowery fragrance wafting over her.
He reached for it with one hand, gulped down the entire glass of water, and put it down on the table all in a single motion. He avoided looking at her face by staring straight ahead at the wall.
“Eh, are you flustered?”
“N-nothing like that”
“Fufu, I wonder how everyone would react if they knew the village’s fearsome hunter was acting like this. So… How has it been? We haven’t talked like this for some time, right? Are you studying well these days?”
“Mrs. Sharron, can you tell me why you asked me to be here?” Nero sensed he was being toyed with. He mustered every bit of courage and imbued seriousness into his voice so they could get on with the matter at hand.
“Oh that,” she lightly clapped her hands as if she just remembered before going into her room.
When she came back, her hands were holding onto a book, which she promptly placed on the table in front of Nero. She lightly tapped it twice while her eyes locked on his face as she sat near him again.
This time, Sharron was close enough that her naked shoulders were touching him, sharing her body heat. It would have been enough for any man to feel his ego shoot through the roof, watching this vixen fawning at them.
Unfortunately, our boy, Nero’s courage he had mustered up, was sinking faster than the Titanic.
“Hey~, Mind talking about this?”
When she directly confronted him with the book, he forgot all the dialogues practiced in his rehearsal and made up scenarios. He just sat there like a doll that ran out of its battery, unable to answer her queries.
“Ara, it seems like you forgot about it already. That’s troublesome. But don’t worry, alright. I will help you jog your memory.”
Seeing him pretending not to know and failing to respond, Sharron decided to help him.
She took the book in her hands, randomly opening a page. She gave a few exaggerated coughs as if to clear her throat before beginning to read it aloud.
“Stacy strutted confidently into the hall, hoping his eyes were all on her. Immediately she bends down, acting as if to clean the floor. But in reality, she was showing off her bubbly butt and child-bearing hips in an attempt to get his attention. None of those were enough, though. So Stacy, knowing she hadn’t excited her target of the night, flipped her skirt fully over her back. Now she was confident he would give it to her. Why you ask? Because she was not wearing her panties.” Sharron paused her reading for a few seconds to let out a few ahems, as if trying to deepen her voice like a man before continuing. “He looked down at his whore acting like a puppy, begging for his attention. He didn’t want to give it to her yet, but his eyes stared at her love canal gushing like a waterfall. Smirking, he realized the bitch was corrupted beyond saving and now was his to play around with. So he pulled down his pants, whipping out his Magnus opus dingus.”
“M-Mrs. Sharron… please..”
“Eh, come on, don’t be like that. We haven’t yet been to the best part. Don’t you want to see what his Magnus opus dingus could do? How about the part about her waterfall? Honestly, it looks to me like she is peeing.” Sharron asked. Seated in a nearby chair, she held the book with drawings beneath her chin, her eyebrows arching up as she faced him.
She checked his face for any reaction. Seeing him persist in staring at the wall, unwilling to face her, Sharron continued her voiceover.
“Stacy urgently turned around!!, her sultry eyes wildly landing on the source of her desire. Suddenly her uterus cringed, an evolutionary recognition of an Alpha by a woman’s body”
That was the final straw. Nero turned around to face her, his eyes pleading with her to stop this torture. Never in his life did he wish to have awakened teleportation powers. He wished he could rip through the space and escape this place at once.