My Gender Bend Harem: Starting from Chainsaw Man

Kobeni's emotions were already stretched like a taut wire, and after such intense emotional highs and lows, she finally snapped. Her moist tongue reached out—truly attempting to lick the toilet lid.

Renji Kuroda rushed forward, pulling her away just in time. He tried to calm her with gentle words, but Kobeni was entirely unresponsive, her mind seemingly detached. Left with no choice, Renji carefully measured his strength and delivered a swift chop to her neck, knocking her unconscious.

He gently wiped the saliva and grime from Kobeni's face and thighs with tissues, then carried her with great care to the bed. Covering her with a soft quilt, he sat beside her, gazing at her peaceful sleeping face.

Lightly rubbing the redness around her eyes, he smiled faintly.

"Let's play like that again sometime… if we ever get the chance. But for now, get some rest. Sweet dreams."

He unplugged the dance machine, stepped out of the room, and quietly closed the door behind him.

By this point, Renji had earned more than enough system points. The current total was approaching the threshold for a breakthrough—though each emotional spike now brought only minor additions.

He decided that once Kobeni woke up, it would finally be time to lead everyone out of this place.

Back in the hallway, Renji rejoined Denji on patrol. They chatted idly, pausing here and there as they passed by room after room.

Suddenly, Denji broke the silence. "Hey… Renji, are we really stuck in here for good?"

Renji flipped through a stack of manga he'd gathered earlier, eyes glancing casually at the pages. "Hm? Why would you think that? Don't worry—we'll definitely make it out."

"Oh… I see…"

Denji hesitated. She figured Renji was just saying that to keep her, Kobeni, and Arai from mentally breaking down.

A moment passed. Denji seemed to think of something else—her cheeks flushed a soft pink. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again, unable to say what she wanted to.

Eventually, Aki and Himeno approached from the other corridor. Aki told them it was time to switch shifts, and he and Himeno would take over the next patrol.

Renji nodded, returning to the room with Denji.

Inside, Power was sprawled lazily across the bed, resting her cheek in one palm. When Renji walked in, she brightened instantly.

"Hey! Human! I've been so bored I almost died, so I started thinking—if I won the Nobel Prize, wouldn't those indecisive humans worship me?!"

She gestured wildly as she spoke.

"And I figured out how to win it too! I'll become Prime Minister and eliminate the consumption tax entirely!"

Renji chuckled as he dropped onto the bed. "Mhm, mhm, sounds great. Then the Nobel's all yours. Anyway, go entertain yourself—I'm reading."

Power pouted at his disinterested tone, clearly dissatisfied.

This strange hotel was as vast as a skyscraper, and everything inside—from its floors to the beds—was top-quality. The bedding was so comfortable that before long, Renji drifted off, his manga slipping from his fingers to the floor.

He didn't know how much time passed before someone gently shook him awake. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he sat up and saw that only Denji was in the room.

She stood with her hands behind her back, her face flushed and uncertain.

"What's up?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "Is Kobeni awake? And… why's your face red?"

Denji didn't answer. Instead, she raised one trembling hand, her fingers flexing in the air like a silent signal.

Renji blinked, confused—until Denji glanced around, then cleared her throat and blurted,

"Cough… since we're stuck in here… maybe we should do that thing you promised me before?"

Only then did Renji understand what she meant.

"Oh… uh-huh. Here?"

Denji shook her head, flustered. "Let's… let's go somewhere more private. Like… the public restroom?"

Renji followed her down the hallway to the farthest restroom stall. Denji walked to the innermost one, opened the door, then stepped aside, waiting.

He stepped in and sat down on the closed toilet seat.

Denji entered as well, shut the door, and locked it. Then she turned around to face him—her face as red as a ripe cherry.

[Ding~ Detected Denji's nervous emotion, system rewards 2 points.]

"Take… take it off," she whispered. "I… I want to touch your chest."

Her voice trembled, thick with anticipation and something else—yearning, perhaps, or buried affection.

"Alright."

Renji slowly removed his jacket, unknotted his tie, and draped it over the stall's metal divider. He unbuttoned his shirt one by one, the fabric falling away to reveal bronzed skin and sharply defined musculature.

Though not overly bulky, his frame was far beyond average—chiseled, yet lean and functional.

"This… this is…"

Denji stuttered, her words falling apart. She stared at his chest in awe, her hands trembling as she reached out, the scent of male hormones overwhelming her senses, pulling her deeper into a haze of longing she couldn't quite name.

Denji's breathing grew heavier—what began as gentle exhales became short, sharp gasps. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and a deep flush had spread across her cheeks. Her heart pounded with such force it seemed to shake her entire frame.

Renji Kuroda didn't rush her. He remained still, calm, quietly watching Denji in her state of turmoil—patient, attentive, offering no pressure.

Seconds passed like an eternity.

At last, Denji could no longer endure the storm of anticipation swirling within her. She swallowed hard, the sound unusually loud in the silent stall.

With shaky breath and hands full of hesitant courage, she reached out and rested her fingers against him.

"This… this is the difference…"

Her voice was soft, full of reverence and wonder. She gently explored his chest, fingertips gliding with awe. Slowly, she looked up—eyes searching Renji's expression, as if waiting for a reaction.

He gave none.

So she lowered her head again and continued. A few moments passed before she lifted her gaze once more, her eyes wide with expectation.

[Ding~ Detected Denji's expectant emotion, system rewards 10 points.]

Renji understood what she wanted.

In this world—this all-female world—the idea of a male being the initiator was foreign. Denji had no concept of traditional dynamics from Renji's world. Here, she believed she was the one taking the lead… and he, the passive recipient.

To her, Renji's lack of reaction could only mean rejection or indifference.

So, he adapted.

Drawing from memories of the modern world—from the countless dramatizations and emotional performances he'd absorbed—Renji began to mimic the subtle signs of enjoyment. He softened his expression, relaxed his shoulders, and let his voice rise in a natural, reactive cadence. Bit by bit, a blush bloomed on his cheeks, lending authenticity to the scene.

Denji's eyes lit up with delight. Her touches grew more confident, more focused. Her hands explored with increasing pressure and curiosity, intoxicated by this new experience.

It went on for about five minutes.

Eventually, Renji gently placed his hand on hers to stop her.

Partly because his voice was growing hoarse from feigned gasps—but also because Denji's affectionate exploration had turned into firm squeezing, even occasional pinching. It was getting uncomfortable.

Denji hesitated but slowly withdrew her hands, staring at them as if they still held warmth, her face unreadable—somewhere between satisfaction and longing.

Renji stood, quietly buttoning his shirt and straightening his tie. Just as he was about to say something, a faint rustle broke the silence—like someone stepping on discarded toilet paper.

Then—a flurry of hurried footsteps.

Someone had been watching.

Renji's eyes narrowed. He burst out of the stall and bolted for the door.

At the restroom's entrance, he spotted a figure—just a blur—darting into the hallway.

He gave chase without hesitation, heart racing.

But when he turned the corner and stepped into the hallway…

Nothing.

The corridor was silent, empty.

Whoever had been there was already gone.