Chapter 30: Synergy of Stats and Mechanics (Patreon)

Oryon gently pushed her down onto the bed.

Lunch sank into the soft mattress, her long blue hair spreading across the white sheets like a small ocean.

Since being with Oryon, Lunch's life had improved enormously.

Once thin, she'd filled out a little now.

But on her it wasn't bloating — if anything, the extra softness made her look fuller, more alluring.

She felt completely different to the touch now, too — his hand no longer brushed against bone so easily.

Back then, Oryon had genuinely worried she was malnourished.

Now, with a little more softness to her, Lunch's personality had grown bolder too.

Her blue-haired self had become bolder, and naturally, her blonde side had grown even wilder.

Sometimes Oryon genuinely worried she'd sleepwalk, grab a machine gun, and let loose a burst of fire just for the thrill of it.

After a round of intimacy, Lunch fell asleep with her head pillowed on Oryon's arm.

Her soft breathing — "hff, hff..." — mingled with the sea breeze as she slept, lending a touch of gentleness to the height of summer.

Outside the window, the sun sank fully beneath the sea, its last rays washing the bedroom in a hazy orange-red glow.

A sea breeze swept past, lifting a corner of the curtain before letting it fall slowly back.

Outside, waves crashed against the rocks, over and over, the rhythm quickening, until the tide finally receded and the sea's low moan fell silent.

"Grumble, grumble..."

Oryon's stomach growled with hunger.

Lunch opened her eyes and gazed at him lazily, a leg winding around his waist, her ankle brushing lightly against his back like a real-life snake woman.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah. It's already evening."

Oryon caught her delicate foot and cradled it in his palm, rubbing gently.

She glanced down at him, a little bashful. "Does it smell bad?"

Oryon gave her fragrant, soft little foot a gentle bite, as if it were a treat.

"This is a delicacy of mine — how could it possibly smell bad?"

Lunch pouted. "Even if you kiss my feet, I'm not moving. I'm exhausted. Can we just go eat out?"

Oryon nodded.

Lunch hugged him. "So what do you want to eat? Think it over."

"What I most want to eat is you!"

The words had barely left his lips before he sealed her cherry-red mouth with a kiss.

When their lips finally parted, she was gasping for breath, her glistening eyes full of triumphant amusement.

"You're so good to me. I feel like the happiest person in the world."

"Though, once Bulma's free, I should get her to help share the load — I really can't handle you alone..."

"Bulma's way too weak. I still like Lunch better..."

Lunch said, a little troubled, "Right? Bulma's clearly got natural talent — why is she so weak at it?"

"But you always give all your love to me, and I can't keep up."

"Maybe I should find you another girl?"

"Sure, if you're volunteering to find me one, I'll wait."

"But I'm quite picky. After having you and Bulma, my standards got spoiled — an ordinary girl won't catch my eye!"

Lunch pressed her lips into a smile and gave his nose a gentle pinch. "You, always saying just what I love to hear."

"Don't worry, I'll find you one soon. My eye for talent is plenty picky too..."

[Ding! Intimate interaction with Lunch — 1 day of cultivation progress gained.]

Oryon let out a breath.

Another day of cultivation progress, banked.

Staying intimate with the same woman was rare enough; keeping it up for half a year straight was even harder.

But Oryon had pulled it off.

To Lunch, these past six months felt like the happiest time of her life.

Oryon was simply too good to her — sometimes it made her anxious, as if she didn't deserve a life like this.

Lately, Oryon's Power Level had stalled around ten thousand, but he could still feel himself improving.

He had a theory: the daily cultivation time he'd been rewarded lately must be going toward combat experience instead.

Because he could feel it himself — his control over his strength and his handling of techniques had grown far more fluid.

Looking back now on his fights with Raditz and with Goku, he understood something new.

Back then, he'd won purely through brute numerical superiority, without a shred of skill.

Looking back, those had been nothing but glaring openings. Against a real master, he'd probably have ended up choking just like Vegeta did.

Now that his understanding of martial technique and combat had deepened, losing wouldn't come so easily anymore.

Oryon figured that a fighter who relied purely on numerical superiority would eventually get crushed by someone else's numbers in turn.

But only by advancing both raw power and technique together could he keep maneuvering against strong enemies, hunting for openings, and ultimately seize victory.

That was the true path of the martial way.

That guy Goku might look like a simpleton, but that was exactly the path he was walking.

Suddenly, the pressure cooker in the kitchen started beeping.

Lunch called out, "Oh, dinner's ready! I'll go dish it up..."

With no time to dress, Lunch dashed to the kitchen stark naked.

Outside, night deepened, stars scattering fine silver light across the sea.

A seagull landed on the windowsill, tilted its head to peek inside, then flapped its wings and vanished into the night.

Some time later, the two of them were full and satisfied.

They lay side by side on the bed, covered only by a thin sheet.

Lunch pressed her face against Oryon's chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually settle.

Her fingers traced idle circles on his abs, one after another, lazy as a sated cat.

"Oryon." She suddenly spoke up.

"Mm?"

"Bring me a feather. If I switch to my golden-haired form, I can go another round..."

Before she could finish, Oryon leaned down and kissed her.

When their lips parted, Oryon said, "Just get some rest. It'd break my heart to wear you out..."

Lunch, docile as a kitten, lay on her side watching him, then let her eyes drift shut.

Oryon wrapped an arm gently around her slender waist and patted her softly, again and again.

Lunch drifted into sweet dreams. Oryon could see her eyelashes flutter faintly, the corners of her mouth curling into a sweet smile now and then, and every so often a pouty, coquettish look crossing her face — utterly adorable.

Outside, the waves kept on rolling. The moon rose over the sea, spilling silver light across the whole little villa.

The moon set and the sun rose again; it wasn't until well past noon that Oryon finally opened his eyes.

He stretched out in a long, luxurious yawn and sighed, "Mm, what a good night's sleep..."

Lunch walked in wearing an apron.

"You're up. I overslept too — just wait a little longer and lunch will be ready."

Oryon sat on the edge of the bed and gently wrapped an arm around her rear.

"I'm not hungry at all. How about we skip eating at home today — let's go to West City to find Bulma, then eat at a restaurant..."

Lunch's expression brightened.

"Sure! Let me turn off the stove and change clothes, and we'll head over..."

A moment later, Lunch was piloting an aircraft, flying Oryon toward West City.

Oryon sipped a cold drink under the air conditioning, laughing. "In the middle of summer, flying by plane sure beats the alternative."

Lunch turned back and smiled. "Honestly, I still prefer it when you carry me flying yourself."

"Sometime when it's not so hot, take me flying again. I want a little thrill..."

"Sure thing!"