Show Me Your Stats!-Chapter 83

"My goodness, Lady Ayra. Why do you look so worn down? You're not sick, are you?"

"Really? I slept fine though..."

Ayra rubbed her pale cheeks—and promptly got a nosebleed. The air was dry from fatigue, and her nose had become prone to bleeding. Casually, she pulled a damp cloth from her subspace and wiped the blood, but Jinas's face was full of concern.

"Are you overworking yourself?"

"Overworking... huh."

Of course I’m overworked. Ayra murmured to herself, recalling the night from two days ago.

That night, the mountain goat meat had just been the appetizer for Janus. All through the meal, he stared at Ayra, licking his lips shamelessly, and later devoured her just as thoroughly in bed. He licked and sucked at her whole body like he couldn’t even distinguish between lust and hunger, cornering her from the very beginning.

Honestly, it would’ve been easier if Janus were the kind of guy who just satisfied his own urges. But no—unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), this dragon was excessively attentive when it came to his lover. Ayra had been wrung dry until not a single drop of libido remained. And even two days later, she still hadn’t recovered.

He’d tried to crawl away, begged, been dragged back, and eventually clung to Janus himself—over and over again that night. Just thinking about it made him shudder. Jinas, who had been carefully watching the dark circles under Ayra’s eyes, clicked his tongue softly.

"This won't do. Let me take care of this."

He grabbed a whole stack of documents off Ayra’s desk. Jinas also had shadows under his eyes, but Ayra was too drained to argue. She only made a token effort to protest before letting it go. As he gently laid aside the documents that needed Ayra's seal, Jinas glanced around.

"...I think I hear someone screaming?"

"Oh—right. I forgot."

Ayra snapped her fingers, and the tightly shut window swung open. Moments later, a man floated into view, suspended by ropes, sniffling and sobbing.

Jinas paled. "My lady! What have you done to Lord Graffni?"

"I didn’t do anything. He did. Got drunk and mistook official documents for scrap paper—used them as firewood."

At Jinas's request, Graffni remained hanging for five more minutes. When Ayra finally untied him, she casually flicked her hand as if shooing a fly—and issued a terrifying warning.

"If you ever damage official documents while drunk again, I’ll hang you upside down from the mountaintop. Understood?"

"Y-yes! My lady! I swear it won’t happen again!"

Graffni didn’t dare look her in the eye and bowed repeatedly before stumbling out of the study, pale as a ghost. He didn’t even shut the door properly—there was a loud thump as he tripped and fell on his way out. Jinas sighed deeply.

"Lord Graffni likely didn’t mean any harm. He’s incompetent, but not malicious..."

"I know. If he’d done it on purpose, I wouldn’t have let him off with just a little air time."

Rubbing her temples from the headache, Ayra stood. It was time for breakfast. Once a week, she dined with her retainers to discuss territory matters—and today was the day.

But when she arrived at the dining hall, Graffni was absent. Instead, a young man who looked exactly like him sat at the table, shoulders hunched. In a tiny, nervous voice, Graffni’s son said that his father was unwell and couldn’t attend. Ayra was certain he’d just run off in fear. She didn’t say anything to the boy—just frowned once and left it at that. What a delightful way to start the morning.

During breakfast, they discussed the upcoming quarry operation. Then Ayra handed Bloom a document. It was a list she’d compiled over the past two days while touring the territory—names and locations of individuals with high HP and Physical Attack stats.

"Sir Bloom, we’ll be expanding the troops. Start recruiting from this list. I’ll provide a supplemental list in a few days."

"Yes, my lady!"

Plagued by chronic manpower shortages, Bloom looked almost emotional. When Ayra handed him the document, Jinas shot him a look full of obvious envy. Sorry, Sir Jinas. Just hold on a little longer. I’ll budget for more administrative staff next month...

And then, one week later, Ayra lay collapsed on Janus’s bed, utterly drained, thinking:

‘I should’ve unlocked Intelligence instead of Physical Attack and focused on hiring clerks first.’

Normally, HP recovered to full after sleeping. Lately, though, each night she slept, her max HP dropped slightly. It was because she was burning more energy from overwork than she could replenish through rest. And it was all because of those bald heads.

When the stress finally overflowed, Ayra groaned and thrashed, yanking at the pillow. Janus gently ran his fingers through her tousled hair and said:

"Want me to go kill all the bald guys for you?"

"No..."

Her voice was muffled under the pillow. Janus's voice turned temptingly cruel and sweet.

"I’ll slice them up without a sound. They’ll disappear—no bodies, no trace."

She almost gave in.

But Ayra forced out an even softer "No"—so faint even she could barely hear it. Of course, Janus would’ve heard it just fine. With a deflated "Okay," he lost interest and pulled her gently into his arms. She was a little resentful... but his warmth was soothing.

Unlike Ayra, who was running herself ragged, the overpowered freeloader dragon had been going around back alleys and slums shaving suspicious people bald. The aftermath was massive.

At first, the bald victims hid in shame. But over time, they began banding together, treating their baldness like a badge of honor. They formed groups and started causing trouble. Some soldiers had even gotten injured trying to suppress them. If Ayra hadn’t hired more troops, the situation would've spiraled even further out of control.

But Janus hadn’t just caused Ayra problems—he'd sparked chaos throughout the territory. The townsfolk openly avoided and antagonized the bald ones, whispering that they had been punished by Lord Morunka. Innocent men who’d naturally had thinning hair suddenly found themselves suffering backlash. They anxiously took to wearing hats out of fear.

Even the temple took a hit—several priests and clerics who’d been hanging out with delinquents and ended up shaved by association were excommunicated. That morning, when the so-called "Bald Skin Patch" incident came to light and a wave of expulsions swept through the clergy, Ayra received a notification:

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability has dropped significantly!]

...It was kind of satisfying.

‘Looks like the temple’s lost its grip on those thugs now.’

Lost in thought, Ayra didn’t notice Janus gently gathering her silver hair and combing through it with his fingers.

"Isn’t your lord kind of... incompetent?"

"What?!"

What do you know?! I’ve been busting my ass to hold this place together! If not for me, the whole estate would’ve collapsed by now!

Flaring up, Ayra shot upright—but then held back her anger and instead pressed her head against Janus’s chest... before ramming it into his sternum with a loud thump. The dragon with 9,999,999 HP didn’t even pretend to flinch, which made it all the more annoying.

"...I’m not incompetent."

Her voice was so small—but Janus heard it anyway. Sure enough, a notification popped up.

[Janus Rehzedet’s Favorability has decreased by 1.]

Yeah, go ahead and lower it. Knock it all the way down to -100. Crush me when the scores combine. And if I’m going to die anyway, I might as well run some experiments before I go.

Cracking under stress and exhaustion, Ayra suddenly lifted her head and declared ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) boldly:

"Give me a few strands of your hair."

No matter how much she searched Janus’s bed or floor, she never found any loose hairs. Apparently, dragon hair follicles were very secure. But now that she’d confirmed he didn’t actually kill his exes—just sent them far away—she decided to act boldly.

Janus chuckled softly and reached for his own head. A moment later, two strands of red hair were plucked free between his fingers. Dragon hair! Ayra quickly pulled out a small envelope from her subspace, reaching out—but Janus’s hand darted back. She watched with a devastated look as the strands danced just out of reach.

He seemed to ponder for a moment before twirling the lustrous red hairs in front of her and asking,

"Say... didn’t you mention the lord of Solar wasn’t originally from here?"

"Huh? Y-yeah..."

Ayra broke into a cold sweat. What’s with the sudden interest? He’d never cared before. Why ask now? Warily, she leaned back.

"Then where did they come from?"

She didn’t want to answer. But those hairs were waving temptingly right in front of her, and it would be weird if she, working at the castle, didn’t know the lord’s origins. So she fumbled a vague reply.

"Um... somewhere far away... maybe east or west... somewhere with mountains... or plains... I think."

Basically, everything except the southern coastline. The hair finally landed in her palm. She scrambled to stuff it into the envelope and stash it in her robes before he could snatch it back.

"You said before the lord was young and good-looking. What exactly do they look like?"

"...Why are you suddenly asking that?"

Ayra eyed him suspiciously. She’d gotten the hair—time to make her exit. But just as she started to pull away, Janus suddenly held out a hand.

The sly dragon brought his fingers close to her face and said:

"Don’t you think it’s about time I trimmed my nails?"