At this mont, Hancock was completely smitten.
From her perspective, Vir was practically a saint. He didn't scorn her past as a Celestial Dragon slave. He wasn't swayed by her breathtaking beauty. And he was always protecting her in his own way, helping her through everything.
How could she not fall for him?
How could she not want to be with him?
Right now, as Hancock gazed at Vir, all she felt was overwhelming shyness. Here they were, on this bed, with so many people just outside. To others, didn't it look like she already belonged to him?
'This is moving too fast~ This empress... This empress still wants to experience romance properly...'
"V-Vir..." she stamred, her voice soft and hesitant. "Can we... slow down a bit? Isn't this too fast? I-I'm not quite used to this..."
Her delicate, flustered tone was so tender it could lt anyone. Too shy to even et Vir's eyes, she tilted her head slightly, glancing to the side. That dainty, vulnerable deanor—who could resist it?
Vir, anwhile, was utterly dumbfounded.
What just happened?
What the hell was going on here?
What heinous cri had he committed now?
Slow down? Too fast? Not used to it?
WTF!?
Sure, he knew she was probably spiraling into so romantic fantasy in her head again. If it was Hancock, her imagination was running at full sail. But saying it like that? Her choice of words was a disaster!
One wrong move, and he'd be facing a "justice"! Rayleigh would have him audited on the spot. Was this the power of an overimaginative mind? Her brain was a whirlwind of self-made drama!
Vir's worries weren't unfounded. Outside, Rayleigh and the others had caught Hancock's faint but suggestive words. Everyone froze, faces stiffening, before slowly turning to Rayleigh.
Is this what you ant by "completely confident"?!
Do you hear the kind of scandalous things being said?
What kind of "treatnt" could make soone speak in such a bashful tone? That didn't sound like healing at all!
"Old man..." Marco said, brow furrowed. "Care to explain this?"
At this point, the duo's discussion was the only thing keeping the group from losing it. Marco hadn't entirely lost faith in Vir—his admiration for the guy was still fresh. He wasn't ready to jump to conclusions just yet.
Rayleigh, on the other hand? He was already sweating bullets after hearing Hancock's words. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead. Despite the panic screaming in his chest, he forced a calm facade.
"No worries, everyone, no worries." Rayleigh said, voice steady as he could manage. "This must an Hancock recognized Vir. That's all! He hasn't stopped the treatnt, so everything's fine."
Hearing this, Marco was the first to snap.
"Yeah! Obviously she recognized him! But the problem is—the way she called his na just now, that tone—does that sound normal to you?!"
"And 'hasn't stopped the treatnt'? No kidding! Who'd stop with that going on? Would you stop? You'd keep going till the ship sank!"
Marco's razor-sharp words hit like a Sea King's tail. Rayleigh was sweating buckets now, drenched like he'd been caught in a storm.
'Oh no. This isn't actually going south, is it?'
'This Old man is starting to panic here!'
'Was that kid really a beast? Was that "antidote" even legit? Why else would Hancock sound like that? It was completely out of character for her!'
"Rayleigh-san" Marco pressed, like a war correspondent on the front lines. "I'd love to hear your take on 'slow down,' 'too fast,' and 'not used to it.'"
He even conjured a microphone-shaped fla with his Phoenix powers, shoving it right under Rayleigh's chin with dramatic flair.
After a mont of composing himself, Rayleigh wiped his brow and once again feigned calm.
"Well, that's... easy to explain."
"You all know how Vir's treatnts are. Extrely rough! So it's only natural Hancock would feel a little... unaccustod. Yes, unaccustod."
Hearing this, even Marco couldn't help but want applaud.
'Bravo!'
'Well said!'
'Spoken like a true survivor.'
'You've clearly been on the receiving end of Vir's treatnt before.'
'Most old-tirs would be cursing out reckless youngsters by now, but you? '
'You're out here covering for him!'
'You didn't just let him near your daughter, you practically gift-wrapped her for him!'
'Amazing. Standing ovation, please!'
Their exchange made Robin frown as well.
But the mont she recalled Vir's usual behavior, her worries quickly faded.
Worried about Vir doing sothing improper inside?
You might as well worry about the world exploding today...
anwhile, back inside...
Vir's eyes lit up as he heard the system notification chi in his mind.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host! You've earned 30,000 negative points!]
Thirty thousand!
Though a small amount...
This was just the beginning!
The treatnt hadn't even started yet!
Just Rayleigh and Marco's voices reaching Hancock's ears had already netted him 30,000 points.
If this kept up, once the real treatnt began, wouldn't the points skyrocket?
But Vir knew he had to play it safe.
Anything he said, she might instantly misinterpret.
Every extra sentence was a potential disaster.
He had to keep the situation exactly as it was.
No need to shoot for a higher payout and risk blowing it all up.
The problem was, he could never predict what Hancock was thinking.
So better to play it safe.
Still, he had to explain the treatnt process to Hancock.
Leaning down slightly to keep his voice low (he couldn't let the others overhear and ruin the plan), he whispered.
But the mont he leaned in, Hancock's brain short-circuited.
Her head practically stead, her eyes turning into dazed, adorable orbs.
Her breathing quickened to a frantic pace.
'What's he doing?'
'Is he... is he going to kiss ?'
'After I just told him to slow down, he's speeding up instead?'
'Is he afraid I'll run away? As if I, the Pirate Empress, would ever run!'
'No, wait—what do I do? He's getting closer! Should I close my eyes?'
Without thinking, Hancock squeezed her eyes shut, her lashes trembling like Rayleigh's grandma with a bad case of Parkinson's.
Vir: ...Huh?
What the—?!
Outside, Marco's voice cut through again. "Rayleigh-san, her breathing's getting louder. What's your excuse now?"
He shoved the fla-mic back in Rayleigh's face, expression deadpan.
Rayleigh had nothing left to say.
All he could do was wipe his sweat with a handkerchief like his life depended on it.
At this mont... a new Sweat King was crowned.
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