Cassius genuinely felt like dying at that moment.

Not from the acid that had melted half his back into sizzling ruin, but from sheer, unbearable shame.

He finally understood, truly, painfully understood, what it must feel like to stand in front of himself.

Usually, he was the one who was impossible to reason with, the one who derailed conversations, shamelessly turned every serious moment into absurdity, and left others red in the face while he smiled with unshakable confidence.

But now the tables had turned, and he was the victim.

The girl before him didn’t obey the flow of the conversation, didn’t give him the reactions he wanted, didn’t play into his rhythm at all.

Instead, she trampled all over his script, turned his gallant heroics into the shallow whims of a pervert, and left him, him, looking like a pathetic fool.

And realizing this, a very real ache bloomed in his chest. His lips trembled, his eyes threatened moisture, and he turned his face away as though hiding tears.

If Aisha, Julie, Skadi, or anyone who knew him, saw him now, they would have collapsed on the spot. None of them would ever have believed Cassius, of all people, could look so thoroughly defeated.

Even the lamia girl herself paused, staring at him with wide eyes. His expression was so tragic, so pitiful, she thought she had broken him completely.

She misunderstood his misery, of course, and believed he was weeping not from humiliation. But from regret, regret at never having his final wish fulfilled—regret at never pressing his face into the softness of her chest.

Her gaze drifted downward, to the generous swell beneath her sweater. She tilted her head, patting them lightly, her lips pursed.

They were plump, heavy, and soft, like round watermelons stuck to her chest. She gave them a shake, watching the way they bounced, and thought to herself that yes, they really were magnificent.

Men stared at them constantly, she knew. She had seen the way their eyes lingered, the way they whispered to each other when she passed. They were loved, admired, worshipped in their own way.

Still…were they really so mesmerizing that this ridiculous man before her was about to cry just because he couldn’t touch them?

Pride and embarrassment battled within her. She felt flustered that her chest could wield such power, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny a certain smug satisfaction.

‘So my boobs are worth dying for, are they? Hmph.’

But then she glanced at Cassius again, at the way his shoulders sagged, at the way he looked so utterly hollowed out.

This was the man who had smiled even as acid ate away at his body, the man who had stood between her and certain death without hesitation.

And yet here he was, broken not by acid or monsters, but by her rejection. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

‘He gave his life for me. And here I am…unwilling to give him even a moment of happiness in return. Just one little thing, just one minute, and I couldn’t do it. Am I really that cruel?’

Finally unable to bear it, she leaned closer, her tail curling anxiously around them both. Her voice softened, gentle and almost soothing.

“Hey, you…did you really want to see them that badly? So badly that you’d…look like you’re about to cry right now?”

Hearing her tone, Cassius turned his head toward her. The concern in her eyes struck him, and for a moment his chest warmed.

Not all hope was lost. He had a chance yet.

He gave a small, pitiful nod. “Yes…I really did.” He admitted, his voice low, weak. “The moment I saw them, so soft, so round, I knew I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in them.”

“I’ll admit it, I’m a pervert, a womanizer through and through…But those were my genuine feelings. Seeing you about to be dissolved, knowing such beautiful breasts might be lost forever…it broke my heart.”

“…That’s why I did it. That’s why I threw myself forward like a fool.”

Her chest tightened at his shameless but honest words.

But she tried to reason with him, flustered.

“B-But…they might be big, but they’re useless! Just dead weight! I don’t understand why you find them so attractive. It’s really not such a big deal.”

Cassius shook his head, giving her a weak smile.

“You don’t understand. You can’t understand. Only a man like me could know this kind of wish. But it’s fine…it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll die, regrets and all. I’m sorry I even brought it up.”

He turned his face away again, as though surrendering to death itself.

Seeing this, her heart clenched. She wanted to save herself for love, for the man who would truly win her heart.

But looking at him now, this foolish, self-proclaimed womanizer who had acted out of nothing but a single, honest desire, she couldn’t help but see a strange kind of purity in his shamelessness.

His feelings, perverted as they were, were also raw and sincere.

And so, just as Cassius was about to curse his fate, thinking his plan had failed, her voice broke through his despair.

“If…if I show you my chest…will you really die without regrets? Will you really ascend to the heavens without any worry at all?”

Cassius’s eyes lit up like fireworks. His head stood straighter despite the acid burns, nodding so hard it nearly looked like his head would fall off.

“Yes! Yes, absolutely! That’s all I want! My last wish, to see them, to bury my face in them, then I can die a happy man!”

And seeing how desperate he was, she knew she had no choice, so she sighed, her cheeks burning, her hands clutching her sweater.

“F-Fine. If you really want it…then fine. I would normally never do this. I was keeping myself for my future husband. After this, I won’t be able to marry anyone. I’ll have to stay single for the rest of my life because my purity will be gone.”

“…So, you’d better be grateful, idiot. I’m doing a huge sacrifice here!” She glared at him, her blush deepening.

“Most definitely, most definitely.” Cassius obediently nodded, his face shining with hope. “I’ll go to the heavens and tell the gods there’s an angel in the mortal world, and they must take care of you.”

Her lips curved into a nervous, reluctant smile at his ridiculous sincerity. Then, as he had asked, slowly, she gripped the hem of her sweater and began to tug it upward, hesitant, trembling—before suddenly squeaking in fluster and yanking it back down again.

“No, no, not like this.” She muttered under her breath, cheeks on fire.

Instead, she took a shaky breath, then tugged the sweater downward. The fabric stretched, slipping lower and lower until her breasts spilled forward, restrained only by the straining bra that struggled to contain them.

And there they were, huge, blue, heavy, enchanting, their soft curves pressing against the tight fabric, threatening to burst free at any second. Her chest heaved with each nervous breath, making them bounce slightly, spilling over the brim of the bra.

Cassius stared, transfixed, drinking in the sight of breasts so large and heavy that they looked as if they could rewrite the laws of reason itself, the kind of sight that would make kings abdicate thrones, monks abandon vows, and heroes cast aside glory for the privilege of simply pressing their faces into them.

It was blinding beauty, decadent, shameless, and almost holy in its profanity. He thought, half-serious, that heaven had opened just for him…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep