Gacha Addict in a Matriarchal World

“Ellie! Good morning….”

“Oh, oh! Did you sleep well? It’s a good morning. The weather is nice. Yeah.”

Ellie’s usually well-groomed fur and hair were a mess, and her dark circles were so prominent that they seemed like makeup. Her eyes were unfocused and dazed, as she babbled incoherently.

Anyone could tell she hadn’t slept properly. She looked like she was facing an endless dawn rather than a new morning alone.

“…Did you stay up all night?”

“No?!”

Ellie jumped and denied it when I merely asked. Seeing that, I was certain.

“Did you stay up all night thinking about what you saw yesterday and…you know?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?! If you say such things in the morning…heuh! What am I supposed to do!”

A woman who feels something even from a slightly naughty remark. Isn’t she the best! …There was a time when I thought that.

Seeing it in person, it’s a bit unsettling. If it had been like that on the bed at night, it would have been great, but now it’s the early morning hallway.

“Ah.”

Only then did I realize. The fact that I was a sensible person who could distinguish between time and place…!

At the same time, I felt a slight moment of clarity.

Becoming a sensible human being is almost the same as losing one’s identity as a writer.

You know, there are a few famous stories about writers.

Creation is a series of pains, so if you keep inflicting pain, you can write.

Writers need to have a certain degree of mental illness, so all writers are lunatics.

Though it’s an extreme leap in logic, cautiously…very cautiously, it’s not entirely something I can’t agree with to some extent.

In that sense, I’ve been too content these days.

Even if I’m full, it doesn’t matter, but seeing the panties still asleep in the subspace or the current Ellie makes me feel a sense of crisis…

It’s funny, but I was afraid that I might become a normal human being.

Would I start seeing this world I created as an ordinary world rather than a work touched by my hands?

I was terrified of not being amazed by the detailed realization of monsters, not giggling at adventurers’ dirty jokes, and not being moved by abilities beyond the human realm.

Although various hardships follow, the Pan Continent is nothing short of the best gift for me.

But, to get tired of that gift.

“…This won’t do.”

“Huh? Jonah? Why all of a sudden…?”

Ellie, who was mumbling to herself, started to feel uneasy, but it probably wasn’t anything important.

If you’ve made up your mind, there’s no need to hesitate.

“Ellie. I’ll be stepping out for a bit.”

“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant!”

I patted Ellie’s trembling shoulder.

“If you overdo it, your bones will ache, so take it easy. See you later.”

I gave a thumbs up one last time, and Ellie sat down with a dazed expression. Leaving her behind, I dashed down the stairs.

In a world without computers, there are things you need to write.

The first thing I checked after leaving the Fairy and Silver Coin was my wallet.

“Three silver coins.”

Due to yesterday’s gacha, this was all the money I had left.

No, I can’t call this “all” I have. My sense of money might be getting warped because of the gacha, but 3 silver coins is still a significant amount.

If saved wisely, it would be enough to live on for a week. At least it would be sufficient to buy paper and a pen.

At an appropriate general store, I bought a pen, ink, and a bundle of cheap paper, then returned to the Fairy and Silver Coin.

For some reason, Ellie was wallowing in misery, drinking heavily since morning, but it wasn’t the first time her pathetic behavior belied her abilities.

I waved my hand casually and shut myself in my room.

“Hiss… So, what should I write now?”

I had thought about writing again. Although I was working as an adventurer, I always considered my main profession to be a writer.

Because of that, I could love this world, and perhaps that’s why the Goddess of Love called me here.

However, as soon as I held the pen properly, my mind went blank.

“Thinking about a world where gender roles are reversed, there’s so little I can write…”

My foundation is erotic fiction. And thanks to the Goddess of Love, in this world, erotic fiction is a major genre.

Well-written erotic fiction is bought for a hefty sum by the Temple, so that says it all.

I secretly read a few in Ellie’s room, and there were certainly a lot of interesting ones.

The problem was that they were all male-reversed versions, which had some scenes that were a bit tough for me.

“A young man who becomes the new warden, being corrupted by wicked female prisoners, is quite the story.”

It was a moment when I seriously doubted Ellie’s taste.

Well, if you look at the big picture, sexual corruption has always been a popular theme throughout history. The detailed parts were just a bit…

The problem is that this is said to be the average taste in Pangrave.

If I keep writing the way I always have, it will become a niche story catering to a minority, branded as femdom…no, maledom.

If that’s the kind of story I want to write, there’s no helping it, but when I’m in a state of ‘I want to write but what should I write now?’ like now, I should avoid it.

I am not writing a diary, I am writing something for others to read.

So, after blankly contemplating until the ink on the pen was half-dried.

“Ah!”

It suddenly came to mind. Where I last thought about wanting to write.

Hobgoblin Village. The two surviving male and female adventurers.

A woman who, despite dragging her childhood friend and lover into adventuring, abandoned him to save herself when their lives were in danger.

A foolish man who, by sheer luck, got rescued and believes his lover risked her life to save him as promised.

As she looked at the man who had to live his whole life crippled because his ankle tendons were cut while being imprisoned, what did the woman think?

What does it feel like to face a sin that no one else knows?

In fact, I have no interest in that pain and guilt or compassion.

What matters to me are the regret, devastation, and obsession that will bloom in a distorted relationship.

It’s not that I don’t feel any aversion to consuming someone’s misfortune as a plaything…but isn’t it a life I saved in the first place? I think this much is acceptable.

“Alright. Let’s go with this.”

I soaked the dry pen with plenty of ink and scrawled the first sentence that came to mind on the paper.

Scratch, scratch.

-Stand up. That’s the only thing a cripple like you can do.

I had a feeling it would be a masterpiece.

She was screwed.

Ellie gulped down the high-end liquor she was supposed to sell to customers, looking around the noisy store.

And after pondering for about three seconds with her half-alcohol-fried brain cells, she reaffirmed.

She was screwed.

“Surely, it’s all been found out?”

In a world where any form of sexuality is recognized as long as it’s consensual and not illegal.

But that’s merely out of respect for preferences.

‘Wow! You’re excited by the sight of the man you like rolling around with another woman? What a sophisticated taste you have! If you don’t mind, could I sleep with your husband next time?’

It doesn’t mean people actually say such things.

‘Surely, Jonah must feel the same way!’

Ellie realized this starkly, but she couldn’t honestly say it and ran outside as if fleeing! It’s certain that’s why she’s been holed up in her room for more than half a day without stepping out…!

…Jonah had consistently mentioned that he would flirt with other women, and thus, Ellie had completely forgotten the fact that he would rather like Ellie, who had awakened to the NTR fetish.

The reason is simple. The forever single, experience-less, outcast Ellie has a slight inferiority complex about her hymen.

Although she has no experience, a complicated psychology of not wanting to be looked down upon continually fuels bad imaginations.

For a moment, she trembles at the thought that she might be labeled as a complete NTR-loving masturbation addict.

What Ellie ultimately chose was a straightforward approach.

“Please, pretend it never happened…!”

A truly Ellie-like idea. Resolute, Ellie downed her drink in one gulp and focused on her work in a slightly tipsy state.

Even if he skips lunch, he’ll come for dinner. After all, isn’t he a boy who eats a lot during his growth spurt?

’Shall I make pasta with a ton of basil sauce today? Or should I fry all kinds of meat and serve it with a sweet and sour sauce?

Either way, it’s something Jonah usually likes, so we can definitely start the conversation in a relaxed atmosphere.’

Having thought that far, Ellie set aside some ingredients in advance and waited for Jonah.

An hour passed, then two hours, and so it went until the shop closed late at night.

Ellie waited endlessly, but Jonah did not come down.

“Oh, no…”

Ellie, engulfed in anxiety and unease, reached a conclusion she normally couldn’t even think of.

“If it’s come to this… I’ll break in.”

Of course, she couldn’t do it sober, so she downed a bottle of strong liquor in one shot.

Thus, the hero, empowered by the courage called alcohol, headed to Jonah’s room.

Creak-

The door opened effortlessly, rendering the meticulously prepared master key useless. It was never locked in the first place.

Ellie, feeling a bit deflated, staggered into the room.

On the desk lay Jonah, fast asleep, hugging a bundle of papers.

“Is this…a diary?”

Simple curiosity. She looked at the papers with a light heart. The moment she read the black text on them, Ellie sobered up instantly.

“……”

No wonder, since the content on the paper somehow resembled the story of Ellie and Jonah.

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