Volume 3 - CH 7

Well then. Now that school is over, it’s time for me to go and gather information elsewhere.

Normally I would have gone back to the hotel and changed back into my male form, but it was already late.

So I grabbed a cigarette in my sailor’s uniform and headed outside the city walls.

○●

What exactly are the walls of this land made of?

The best way to find out is to examine the composition of the walls, from the oldest to the newest, in this order.

First of all, a castle town was not built because there was a town.

It was because the castle was there that the town was built around it.

In many cases, castles were originally fortifications built on a single front.

People gathered around the military base of the castle and a town was built around it.

In return for taxes from the people, the lord of the castle would surround them with walls to protect them from outside enemies.

The population then grows, and the city expands beyond the walls of the castle.

Of course, the people who live outside the walls will demand to be surrounded by walls. So walls are built again.

And so the process repeats itself.

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Andersen’s castle town is no exception to this rule, with the walls built in layers from the inside out around the castle.

Over the past week, I have been checking the composition of the old walls, starting with the inner walls of the town.

First, the innermost wall.

It seems to have been built a long time ago (probably about a hundred years ago), and only a few of it remains.

As it was a wooden structure with iron fittings, it was almost completely decayed by moss and rust, and its function was limited to that of a historic building.

In fact, the wall one step outside is a little more solid.

It was made of stone, cut to the same size, and joined together with steel.

It was twice as high as the first.

It was about the height of three grown men.

The next step was to look for traces of the soil that had been used to fill it in.

Obviously, the larger the outer wall, the larger the area it encloses, and so the proportionately larger the wall. If y ou a re ab le to re ad th is mess ag e, you are r eadi ng from an unau thor ized aggr egate si te. Re ad at my Word Pres s at stab bing wi th a syr inge. ho me. blo g to sup port me and my tra nsla tions.

The walls were made to withstand heavy blows by inserting soft padding outside the hard material.

But as time goes on, so does the technology of construction, so the budgets for these fortresses increase in proportion.

Yesterday I was wandering around, and in the second most recent wall, I saw a magnificent piece of steel and concrete that reached up to the heavens.

Finally, the outermost, newest wall is about to be redefined again today.

As usual, I used the ReadAppraisal spell to examine its composition.

ReadAppraisal can be used in this way as well as to read product records and history.

However, the Read spell was not activated today, and the appraisal did not happen.

But I don’t think it was a skill problem or that I’m not a good wizard. Right, it’s probably… that.

Perhaps these newer walls are designed to be anti-magic.

Unlike the old walls, the newer ones are designed to be anti-magic since Demons and Humans started using magic in their time.

However, it is already known that magic ore, the source of magic power, is essential to the anti-magic specifications.

If magic ore is needed to use magic, magic ore is also necessary to prevent magic.

And it is no small feat to cover such a large castle wall with magic ore.

Therefore, the next wall to be built will require an even greater amount of magic ore.

“Excuse me, miss.”

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While I was in deep thought, an Andersen policeman tapped me on the shoulder.

Oh no.

He must have caught me using Read Spell.

With my martial arts skills, I couldn’t possibly stand up to a police officer.

“W-what is it?”

“That uniform is from the Andersen Girls’ Academy, right? So what are you doing here, smoking?”

I had forgotten that I was still dressed as a woman.

“Oh no, it’s not like that. I’m not actually a schoolgirl.”

“How can I believe such a blatant lie?”

“It’s true. See?”

I presented my passport, not my Andersen Girls’ School ID.

“Mmmm, so you’re a guy. Sigh. I am worried about the increasing number of people with strange hobbies these days. It’s not that we forbid any fetish, but do it in moderation.”

With that, the policeman left, but something about the way he said it broke my heart.

On my way home, I stopped by the black market and found another suspicious-looking shop.

It had a purple sign that said “Adult Toy Store”.

“Come to think of it, my senior… no, it was a customer of hers, wasn’t it?”

So I entered the store.

The shop is rather cluttered, with fluorescent-colored toys and restraints lined up.

The restraints must be for “that” kind of play.

But it’s exactly what I expected.

“Oh, a young lady?”

A grinning shopkeeper addressed me.

“Are you interested in these toys? Uhyuhyuhyuhyu. How about this one? Are you interested?” This cha pter transl ati on is ma de pos sib le by sta bb ing wi th a syr inge tran slatio ns. Ch eck on ly up -to -date trans lati ons on my Wo rdp ress si te.

“I’m a guy.”

“Oh. Take your time.”

That was a quick change.

But while the shop has a nice ambiance, the selection of goods is poor.

And some of them are so bad that you’ll think twice before buying them.

So bad, in fact, that the ones in my cart are a hundred times better.

We’re on our way home, but at that moment, the thought crosses my mind,

“Hmmm, this is a bit exquisite.”

I heard a voice that reminded me of my distant childhood.

It was that of my senior.

“I see. How about this, then?”

You, you grinning shopkeeper.

Could you not talk so casually to my senior?

I mean, what are you doing, Senior?

Oh, I see.

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That customer’s birthday is coming up.

That’s why you plucked up the courage to enter this vulgar shop, isn’t it?

Yes, I’m sure that’s right.

But here I found myself in a much bigger and more deadly problem.

My senior and the shopkeeper were chatting in the corridor leading to the entrance and exit of the shop.

In normal circumstances, I would have walked past them and headed on my way home, but now I look like a perverted transvestite.

I hate it.

I don’t want my senior to see me dressed as a woman.

Because if she finds out, I’m sure she’ll call me ‘cross-dresser’ the next time I come home.

It’s too much.

So, with no other choice, I stood before the adult toy display to hide from my senior and my first love.