The King of Tokyo Freeloaders [148]

In her previous life, Benika had died a virgin—one of the regrets she carried with her to the end.

In the first half of her life, the kidnapping incident during her school years left her with crippling social anxiety, afraid of human contact. In the second half, blindness and disfigurement meant no one wanted her, and her pride wouldn’t let her settle for some half‑hearted marriage.

In the end, she died at thirty‑nine, becoming an even more hardcore arch‑witch than Kuroba Akira—the wizard‑in‑training.

Her girlish heart had long since been burned to ash by time. Reality had scraped the “romance” out of “love,” leaving only love reduced to raw desire—something that had become part of who “Onee‑san” Benika was.

As the saying goes: women at thirty are like wolves, at forty like tigers, and at fifty they can suck the dust right off the ground…

Now that she’d returned to youth, back to the age of bloom and beauty, she’d honestly been starving for it for a long time.

Even before this, she’d felt some attraction toward Akira, which was why she’d been willing to give him a few small perks—but she couldn’t make it too obvious. She’d framed it as an older sister looking after a younger boy.

Part of that was because she could tell Shiginomiya Shion liked Akira, and it wasn’t right to touch prey someone else already had their eye on. And part of it was because she’d always believed the true owner of this body was the original Tashiro Benika—she couldn’t just decide on her own to casually give away this body’s first time.

But now that it was clear the other her had fallen for Akira, she had no intention of “holding back” anymore.

Of course, she couldn’t go too far—but… if it was just a “taste test,” that should be fine, right?

Akira had no idea that the woman on his back had turned into a hungry female beast. He simply carried her over near the main sanctuary and set her down, since he still needed to help her put her shoes back on.

“Put your shoes on first, Benika‑san.”

“Mm. Thanks, Akira.”

“Huh? Did you switch?”

“Yeah. Maybe she cried herself out—she fell asleep.”

That wasn’t true at all. The real Benika was inside, watching the other her perform.

She was embarrassed and curious—she wanted to see how the other her would get close to Akira‑senpai… so she could learn a thing or two. Maybe she could use it later.

“I see. Then let her rest.”

Akira held out the pair of red high heels.

“Here, Benika‑san. I brought your heels too.”

Onee‑san Benika shot him a teasing look, clearly amused.

“Why are you carrying my heels around? What, you really want to see your Onee-san’s feet in high heels that badly? Don’t tell me you’re a high‑heel fetishist. Hmm?”

“I’m not…”

In his head, Akira corrected himself: I’m a foot guy, not a shoe guy.

“I just remembered they were important to you, so I brought them. I was planning to play the sentiment card.”

Like: “Don’t you want to wear these heels again?! Your high heels are crying! If you die, you’ll never get to wear such pretty heels again!”—that kind of over‑the‑top line.

Too bad he never got the chance to use it.

“By the way, these heels don’t really fit you, do they? Did you buy the wrong size?”

“No. They’re actually a ‘meeting gift’ the other me bought for me. The size is based on my shoe size from my previous life, so they’re a little big… Back then I was blind, you know, so I couldn’t wear shoes that made it hard to move. I could only wear ordinary ones.”

“Ah… I see…”

For a blind person, walking in high heels was dangerous.

From a tiny detail like this, you could see just how restricted her life had been.

“But still, it’s better to wear shoes that actually fit, especially heels—”

Click.

Before Akira could finish, there was a sharp cracking sound.

Onee‑san Benika had put the shoe on. The moment she stood up, the heel snapped, and she pitched forward.

Akira rushed to catch her, but couldn’t support her weight—she dragged him down with her.

His back slammed into the hard ground in an intimate collision, his ass screaming in pain, while the front of him met something impossibly soft—a chest‑first tackle straight into his face.

But Akira wasn’t in the mood to enjoy the bouncy, plush impact. He broke into a cold sweat and hurriedly explained,

“Uh… sorry, Benika‑san. I might’ve messed up… I think I broke your shoe…”

He figured it was probably because earlier, when he’d rushed in to stop her from hanging herself, he’d thrown the shoes aside and damaged them.

The shoe had been damaged earlier—but only enough to wobble, not snap clean off.

Onee‑san Benika had deliberately stomped and broken the heel, manufacturing the accident so she could throw her whole body into his arms.

Inside, the real Benika gasped in admiration. She’s so good at grabbing an opening… Other me!

At the same time, the shared physical sensation flooded back into her, and the innocent, late‑blooming maiden was hit with a full‑body shock.

The last time she’d hugged Akira, she’d been drunk and remembered nothing. Now she was painfully sober, pressed against him under that overwhelming pressure, and honestly felt like she might pass out.

Onee‑san Benika scoffed inwardly. Hmph. And you’re already losing it? Watch what your Onee-san does next.

It was her first time doing this for real too, but at the very least, her “theory” was far richer than the other her’s.

Then Onee‑san Benika put on an exaggerated, melodramatic act and wailed,

“Aww~ This is my favorite pair of heels… and it was a gift from the other me… Wahh, my shoes…”

As she did, she hugged him even tighter, her hands roaming restlessly over his neck and shoulders.

Whether she was genuinely upset or not, breaking someone else’s things still made Akira feel guilty, so he hurriedly said,

“Uh, Benika‑san, I’ll compensate you… I don’t have money right now, but once my novel gets published I should. I’ll buy you a new pair… so could you please get up for now?”

“No. I want you to compensate me right now.”

“But I don’t have money…”

“Then you can… compensate me with your body?”

“…Benika‑san? Tashiro‑san? Benika? Are you joking?”

“Hehe… Akira, you know? I died a virgin.”

“Uh… me too…”

“Oh? You’re a virgin too? I thought you’d be an experienced old hand for sure.”

“How do I look like an old hand…”

Shion was gorgeous and already into him, and back at the family restaurant that guy Ryouta had said Akira was in an all‑girls Literature Club and close with the class rep.

From the outside, it looked like he was fully enjoying a rose‑tinted youth‑flavored second life, so Onee‑san Benika had always assumed he’d lost his “first time” ages ago.

Finding out Akira was a virgin in both lives left her with a single thought.

A golden opportunity—a gift from the heavens.

How could she hold back now? Why would she even need to?

She swallowed hard, gulping down the saliva pooling under her tongue, then threw a decisive proposal toward the other her in her heart.

Hey… should we eat him right now?

If you just nod, I’ll start stripping him.

—

T/N: jaw on the floor

This is a fan translation of 东京软饭王 by 夜幕下的鬼 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!