Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 92: The System is a Pervert

A tension-filled silence stretched through the cavern. Ren held her breath, her heart pounding against her ribs as she waited for the oracle to speak. She had asked the ultimate question. She needed the ultimate answer.

An entire minute passed.

Ren was about to sigh in defeat, convinced the interface had ghosted her again, when the text finally appeared.

[System Response: With sex.]

Ren blinked.

’Excuse me?’

Ren’s face went blank. Then, it twisted into a scowl of pure indignation. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

’You... you absolute troll,’ Ren seethed internally. ’Is this your idea of a joke? Are you just a perverted algorithm programmed by a horny teenage boy?’

She let out a loud huff of air, blowing a strand of damp red hair out of her face.

’Forget I asked,’ Ren snapped at the blue screen. ’You are useless. Actually useless. I was stupid to think you would give me a real answer, you digital pervert.’

Just then, reality intruded in a very physical way.

Her left calf seized up in a cramp so painful she almost yelped. And, as if her body wanted to punish her for the stress, her bladder sent an urgent, undeniable notification: Capacity Reached. Evacuate Immediately.

"Great," Ren muttered. "Just great."

She tried to sit up.

She couldn’t.

Kael was still wrapped around her like an octopus. His heavy arm was clamped over her waist, his leg hooked over hers, and his face buried in her neck.

Ren wiggled. "Kael, move. I need to pee."

Kael didn’t move. He just grunted and squeezed tighter.

Ren wiggled harder, trying to shimmy backward.

The movement, unfortunately, had consequences. As her hips ground against him in her attempt to escape, she felt a distinct, hardening twitch against her lower back.

Ren froze. A strong sense of déjà vu washed over her.

’Oh my god, not again,’ she thought, staring at the cavern ceiling. ’Why is it always like this? Every time I try to escape, I wake the dragon.’

The bulge pressed insistently against her, stressing the poor loincloth to its absolute limit.

Ren released a long, suffering sigh. "At least he isn’t in his tiger form," she muttered. "That would be a nightmare."

She looked at her red puffer coat.

’Shed the coat,’ she decided.

With the flexibility of a contortionist, Ren unzipped the coat. She managed to slide her arms out, then slowly, agonizingly, wriggled her body out of the damp shell, leaving the coat stuffed in Kael’s arms like a decoy teddy bear.

Kael, sensing the bulk was still there, snuggled happily into the puffer coat, none the wiser.

Ren rolled away, free at last.

She scrambled up, limping on her cramped leg. She smoothed down the oversized robe she had borrowed from Syris, which she had been wearing underneath the coat. It was itchy and slightly damp, but it covered her modesty.

She practically sprinted (hobbled) toward a dense cluster of giant ferns a respectful distance away.

"Nature calls," she whispered, ducking behind the foliage.

She relieved herself with a sigh of pure ecstasy that rivaled any spiritual awakening.

"I cannot keep living like this," Ren noted to herself as she adjusted Syris’ robe. "That ’Construct a Latrine’ quest is moving to the top of the priority list as soon as Kael is cured."

She kicked some loose soil over her mess—cat style—and looked up to see a bright yellow frog perched on a leaf at eye level. It was staring at her with large, judgmental eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Ren snapped at the amphibian. "Don’t act like you don’t do it in the water. Nasty little guy."

The frog blinked and hopped away.

Ren sighed, lamenting the lack of a bathroom vanity. She walked over to the small pond in the center of the garden. The water was crystal clear.

"Hygiene time," she announced.

She accessed her inventory.

A bar of lavender-scented soap appeared in her hand.

She dipped her hands in the water and lathered the soap aggressively. It foamed up beautifully—thick, white, luxurious bubbles. She scrubbed her hands, then slapped the lather onto her face, enjoying the feeling of being clean. She rubbed it in circles, covering her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, until she looked like Santa Claus caught in a blizzard.

Just then, footsteps echoed on the stone path.

Syris walked into the garden.

The Snake King looked wrecked. He had spent the entire night preparing for their departure, and the lack of sleep was evident in the dark circles bruising the skin under his amethyst eyes.

He had gone to the Nest first, expecting to find Ren and the tiger. It was empty. He guessed the garden was the only other place she would find comfort.

"Ren?" Syris called out, his voice raspy with fatigue.

He scanned the area.

He saw Kael first. The Tiger King was awake, sitting upright on a pile of leaves, still clutching Ren’s red coat to his chest. His red eyes were glowing in the shadows, staring intently at something across the cavern.

Syris followed the tiger’s gaze.

He saw a figure kneeling by the pond. Her back was facing them, and her hands were busy scrubbing her face.

"Ren," Syris called out gently, stepping closer. "We must leave soon."

Ren heard him and turned around.

"Syris?" she asked, her eyes still squeezed shut under the mask of foam.

The sudden, unfamiliar sight of the white foam completely covering Ren’s face frightened Syris so much that he froze mid-step. It looked like a fungus. It looked like a disease. It looked like a cloud demon was eating her head.

"Eep!"

It was a high-pitched, very un-kingly squeak of pure terror.

Ren, hearing the noise, froze.

"Syris?" she asked blindly. "What’s wrong?"

"Your face!" Syris gasped, backing away and raising his hands, his sharp claws extending instinctively in defense. "Ren! The white rot! It consumes you! Do not panic, I will cut it off!"

"What?" Ren asked, confused.

Panic flared in her chest.

In her alarm, she did the one thing you are never supposed to do with soap.

She opened her eyes.

The thick, lavender-scented lather slid directly onto her corneas.

"AHHHH!" Ren shrieked, the burn instant and chemical.

"IT BURNS! IT BURNS!" she wailed, flailing her hands. "THE PAIN! MY EYES! MY BEAUTIFUL EYES!"

"Hold on, Ren! I will slay the white beast!" Syris yelled, stepping forward with his claws raised, thinking the foam was attacking her.

"NO!" Ren screamed, frantically scooping up water and splashing it onto her face with the desperation of a woman on fire. "IT’S SOAP! IT’S JUST SOAP! OH GOD, IT STINGS!"