An inexplicable sensuality.

“Hyakki’s physical condition…” Mori felt conflicted. “It’s too abnormal.”

Alice, dressed as a nurse, pushed the tool cart away to clear the space. After quietly discussing some medical issues, Mori shrugged when no one responded. “Oh well, this is the only way Hyakki could survive. An ordinary person would have died long ago. He’s essentially a form of abnormal life.”

Mori looked at the perfect patient who didn’t even need anesthesia. “Even though he has eyes and a nose now, it’s a shame he still can’t see or smell. But at least he can be considered ‘human’ now.”

Dazai asked in confusion, “Doesn’t he need to have his wounds bandaged?”

Mori tossed a roll of medical bandages to Dazai. “You do it yourself. Actually, it’s not necessary. His healing ability is very strong, and he won’t get fungal infections. The stitches can be removed in a few days.”

Dazai expertly bandaged Hyakki’s wounds, even if it offered only a slight benefit.

Hyakki, lying on the operating table, tried to move but was held down by Dazai’s hand on his shoulder.

“Stay still.”

The puppet had regained its vitality.

Dazai pushed the surgical cart and took the elevator back to their room. Hyakki, touching the features on his face, was curious like a child who had never encountered a new toy. But when he realized he couldn’t sleep next to Dororo that night, he immediately understood the severe consequences of the spinal replacement!

“Dororo!”

Hyakki, lying on the surgical cart, stretched his hand towards the adjacent bed, his voice filled with despair.

“How can you turn a mere meter’s distance into a scene of life and death?” Dazai leaned against the headboard, watching the immobile Hyakki with great amusement.

“Screaming won’t help,” Dazai lazily remarked, keeping some distance between them. “You can’t touch.”

Hyakki stretched out his hand with all his might, but his prosthetic limb couldn’t extend further.

[Whimper.]

Seeing that Hyakki was genuinely about to get upset, Dazai reluctantly reached out to hold his hand, only to be gripped tightly by Hyakki, who used his strength to drag Dazai closer.

Dazai, finding it hard to escape Hyakki’s grasp, stared at his face for three seconds.

The sense of danger around him increased.

Hyakki: [I need Dororo to sleep!]

Dazai, under Hyakki’s relentless persistence, couldn’t find any other way to deal with him. This guy wasn’t afraid of pain, tickles, threats, or losing face… What was he afraid of?!

—Hyakki feared losing “her.”

The more a situation involved emotions related to Dororo, the more shy he would get.

After some thought, Dazai guided Hyakki’s hand to his own face, then down to his chest, successfully getting a confused and then dazed Hyakki, whose face suddenly turned red.

“Hehe.”

[Dororo…?!!!]

Hyakki touched what he thought was his beloved’s chest, without tactile sensation, only perceiving flatness.

Just before he could get embarrassingly flustered, Hyakki resolutely did not move his hand.

[Even if it’s an A-cup, it’s fine.]

This reaction slightly surprised Dazai. Looking at the clawed hand on his chest, he murmured, “So in your heart, she’s not just a girlfriend anymore but a… wife?”

He raised his voice at the end.

Unbeknownst to him, the one who had taken the most advantage of him wasn’t Mori but Hyakki!

That night, in retaliation, Dazai removed both of Hyakki’s hands, using his prosthetics as a pillow. He ignored the tearful, pitiful black-haired boy’s complaints: [Dororo is ignoring me again.]

Hyakki buried his face in the pillow, thinking like a man about whether Dororo was feeling shy.

And…

He secretly thought: [Kusuo dream is the best.]

The omnipotent psychic, with god-like power, had solved his problem, bringing him gifts from his adoptive father, Jukai, from another time and space.

This world… has the most good people.

In the peaceful city of S,

Kusuo, having finished eating the freshest melon at home, perfectly boosted Hyakki’s goodwill. He contentedly changed into his pajamas, ready to rest. His mother accidentally saw the pants he had torn during the day.

Kurumi, not sparing her youngest son, held up the pants in confusion: “Kusuo was really bitten by a dog. What kind of dog is this strong? Do you need to get a rabies shot?”

Kusuo grabbed his pants, which instantly reverted to their brand-new state.

[No.]

He absolutely had not been bitten by a dog.

Here was the proof.