"Punishment over."
"Next, we wait for the show to begin."
Heimdall thought for a moment, then picked up Kirukiru Amou and placed her on the bed.
Time.
For someone who is unconscious, it has no concept.
When Kirukiru Amou's consciousness surfaced from that chaotic darkness again,
there was no splitting headache like a hangover.
Nor was there the extreme weakness following overexertion.
On the contrary.
The world had changed.
This was the first sensation Kirukiru Amou felt after opening her eyes.
The chandelier on the ceiling, every facet of every crystal on it, was as clear as if it were right before her eyes.
Outside in the distance,
she could even hear the faint sound of an unknown bird's wings cutting through the air as it flew past.
Her body...
so light.
The original heavy feeling, as if she had been filled with lead, had vanished.
In its place,
was an unprecedented sense of fullness.
It was as if she had switched to a new body.
"Awake?"
Kirukiru Amou paused, then turned her head.
What met her eyes was a pair of legs.
A pair of long legs, crossed and resting very comfortably on the coffee table.
Her gaze shifted upward.
Heimdall was sitting on the sofa in front of her, holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, and a book in the other, reading with great interest.
Morning light spilled onto his profile.
He looked sacred and inviolable.
If one ignored the teasing look in his eyes as he gazed at Kirukiru Amou.
"Did you sleep well?"
Heimdall closed the book.
According to the standard script,
a young girl,
waking up in the early morning,
with her clothes in disarray, seen by a member of the opposite sex.
The normal reaction would undoubtedly be to scream.
Or to blush.
At the very least, she would subconsciously look for something to cover herself first.
Even for a monster that worships strength,
when it comes to this most primal tension between men and women, there should be some biological instinctive reaction.
"..."
However,
Kirukiru Amou looked down at her upper body.
As if she were not looking at her own body, but a piece of pork.
Then,
she raised her head.
Those pitch-black eyes met Heimdall's gaze directly.
No shyness.
No panic.
What was there,
was only confusion.
Then,
she made a gesture that almost made Heimdall spit out his coffee.
She reached out directly and grabbed at that snow-white area, as if checking some parts.
"God."
"My body..."
"It's changed."
"Is this what Lv.2 feels like?"
Kirukiru Amou didn't care about her own body at all.
She stepped over the coffee table and rushed in front of Heimdall.
She placed both hands on the armrests of the sofa, trapping Heimdall in between.
Looking down from above.
That exquisite face was almost touching the tip of Heimdall's nose.
"Did you still do it?"
Kirukiru Amou stared into Heimdall's eyes, her fingers gently rubbing the back of his hand.
"While I was unconscious..."
"You took the liberty of turning my body..."
"Into the shape you wanted."
The way she said that.
It was incredibly ambiguous.
If Hestia were to suddenly push the door open right now, even if Heimdall jumped into the sewers of Orario, he wouldn't be able to clear his name.
But Kirukiru Amou clearly didn't think there was anything wrong with what she said.
She even made that contact tighter.
"If it's a god."
"Even if you took my bones apart and reassembled them, I wouldn't have any objections."
"No."
"If anything..."
Kirukiru Amou licked her slightly chapped lips.
The light in her eyes was frighteningly bright.
-------------------------
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