Reality and Fantasy
“What’s a ‘period’? Is it a food?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it, either.”
“I think it has something to do with women. Suco, do you know what it is?”
“Um, well. It happens a lot with female humans and some types of monkeys. Apparently, it’s a condition specific to females where blood comes out of their lower abdomen.”
The Band of Gluttons are huddled up, whispering like older boys in elementary school.
Come to think of it, I heard once that creatures apart from humans and certain animals don’t experience menstruation, and even the ones that do have only very minor issues. They must not be very familiar with the topic.
“Sheesh, Lammis, don’t be so reckless. Your periods get bad, don’t they? Ahh, your underwear and cloth are covered in blood. If you don’t change this cloth out with a clean one, it could make you really sick.”
“Okay…”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Having children is something only women can do. Treat yourself better.”
I can’t see what it is they’re doing, but based on their voices, it sounds like Hulemy has gotten the whole thing under control. Just listening to their conversation makes me restless, like I’m doing something bad.
Men aren’t good with this sort of thing. I can’t exactly speak on the issue. In terms of what I can do to help… I can give them clean towels, and then— Oh, you know what? There is something I can do.
From my features list, I choose Manually Operated Sanitation Vending Machine and change my form.
My body becomes sheer white, as though to evoke an image of cleanliness, and it slims down quite a bit, too. As the term manually operated would imply, this vending machine doesn’t need electricity. Instead, you put in the coins, then crank a lever to get the products out.
There are two main products this vending machine sells: sanitary napkins and masks. I think there are versions that sell tissue packets, too.
If you’re a woman, you’ve probably seen them near the bathrooms in department stores, stations, schools, and the like. I don’t think many men have had the chance to see one.
Then, you may ask, why can I, a vending machine who is restricted to only stocking products I’ve bought before, provide these? …W-well, it’s nothing to feel guilty about.
One of my relatives was in the cleaning business, and I just have some experience working part-time for them during my school days. I recall a distant memory—having to clean the women’s bathroom and seeing this vending machine for the first time, then buying its contents out of pure interest without even knowing what was inside. Anyway, that’s not important right now.
“Oh. Boxxo, what’s up? You got thinner—and whiter. If you transformed now, it must mean something. I’ll put in a coin.”
Whenever it comes to Lammis and Hulemy, it’s easy to get my point across. Seriously, thank you.
Hulemy pulls the lever, removes the product, and then looks at it closely for a bit. She tilts her head, not seeming to really get it.
“Huh, this is strange. I don’t think I need this clear bag. This cloth feels strange to the touch… Wait, is it paper?”
She pokes and prods it as she studies it, then appears to understand from the situation what I want her to do. Finally, after seeming to fail a few times, she manages to use it properly.
“This thing’s amazing. The absorption is incredible. With this, we won’t have to worry even on days when it’s super-heavy.”
Hulemy soaks up water from a bottle with her newly purchased sanitary napkins in admiration.
Menstruation is such a true-to-life problem. Fantasy stories often feature a lot of female adventurers, but it seems like they have struggles of their own to deal with behind the scenes.
I would never have understood it if I hadn’t been reborn in another world.
“I guess I’ll get some water from Boxxo to wash your bloodstained pants and underwear.”
“Oh, I can wash them for you.”
“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. At the end of the day, Lammis is technically a girl. I’ll do it.”
“You didn’t need to add ‘technically’…”
From my vantage point next to the cart, I see Mishuel, completely unfazed, attempt to ask Hulemy to give him the dirty underwear and pants. I can’t decide if I should be impressed about that or critical. You’d think a man would be a little resistant to the idea.
I’ve heard bloodstains are tough to get out, so I add a new feature.
This is something I’ve been considering for a while. I change into a coin-operated, fully automatic washer dryer. It’s the kind of washing machine with a door, like in laundromats.
I’ve been concerned about the unhygienic lives of hunters, who only pack maybe one change of clothes, since any more would be too much of a hindrance. I figured they’d be happy if they had a chance to wash their clothes during monster-slaying quests and other missions.
For now, I pop open my round door, trying to motion to throw the laundry inside. Nobody enjoys the idea of hand-washing underwear with blood on them, after all.
Actually, now that I’m thinking about it calmly, isn’t this situation a little risky? They’ll be putting women’s clothing in me to be washed… Uh, well, I’m a machine, so I don’t feel guilty about it, and I’m not a pervert, so everything’s fine. Definitely fine.
“This is a strange-looking form,” says Lammis. “I wonder what it is.”
“Is Boxxo telling us to put the dirty clothes inside?”
“Welcome.”
“Right, then, I’m actually gonna put ’em in, okay?”
“Huh? You’re going to put my underwear in Boxxo?”
I hear Lammis’s confused voice, but— Look, I’m a machine, so you don’t have to worry.
This will be a test run, so I’ll give it to you for free. There’s an automatic detergent injector, so after they throw in the clothes, all we have to do is wait. It’s possible to adjust the settings to determine how to wash them and the length of time, too, but I’ll take care of all those controls.
Mishuel, who looks like he’s enjoying watching the clothes being washed, sidles right up to the glass to peer inside. The Band of Gluttons, watching him, grow curious, and eventually they all end up watching the washing machine spin round and round as well. What is going on here?
With this washing machine’s specs, it should take thirty to forty minutes to finish. However, I’ve increased my speed, so it finishes in about ten. Increasing my speed was the right move. I can only change forms for two hours, which means I wouldn’t be able to use this more than once unless I shortened the time.
When the sound plays to signal that it’s finished, the Band of Gluttons jump back and cry out with a “Vaaaaaa!” of surprise. Their roaring is another thing I’ve gotten used to.
After I open the door, Hulemy hesitantly sticks a hand inside, pulls out the freshly washed pants and underwear, and holds them aloft. They flap in the wind blowing across the wasteland.
Hulemy, you shouldn’t hold up underwear so casually like that. Everyone can see. Lammis is embarrassed—I can hear her making noise from the cart.
“This is amazing! They’re perfectly white!”
Mishuel yells out excitedly when he sees the washed clothes. He grabs my washing machine body, then shakes it violently. Uh, he’s more enthralled by all this than I expected him to be.
“Let’s wash our other dirty clothes, too! I’ll put everything in but my armor. Everyone else, please give me whatever you need washed!”
Without any time for me to stop him, Mishuel takes dirty laundry out of his backpack and starts throwing it inside the washing machine. Even Hulemy undresses inside the cart, then pokes her face out—she’s in a single piece of underwear at the moment—and throws the rest of her clothes into the washer.
She has only a blanket covering her, but still, she doesn’t seem conscious of the fact that Mishuel is a member of the opposite sex.
The Band of Gluttons have their jackets peeled off by Mishuel and are left standing there in just their shoes in dazed confusion. They can’t keep up with the situation.
“The process of cleaning the dirt off is just great, isn’t it? Tidying your room works the same way, but isn’t seeing clothes get clean the best feeling? The maid at my house almost never lets me do it, so I’m having a lot of fun now.”
Ah, so that’s why he was watching the inside of the washing machine with his eyes sparkling like that. I’m happy he’s happy. His remark reveals the fact that he has at least one maid in his house, which means he’s high enough on the social ladder to employ them, right?
Still, even though only the tightly wound Mishuel is present, how are the young girls faring with their healthy bodies stripped down to their underwear and exposed? Lammis is half-naked right now, isn’t she? It looks like she feels too crappy to notice it, though.
Mishuel has taken up a position where he can’t see inside the cart, but I can see them quite well.
This is a good opportunity, so why don’t I observe them in their underwear? If it clues me in to their fashion sense, I might be able to use that to expand my selection of products in the future. Underwear is a product, too, and I’ll probably end up selling it to Shirley at some point. That’s my only goal here—no ulterior motive in particular. No ulterior motives whatsoever. Not a scrap.
Well, I said “observe,” but unlike modern Japan, the underwear here doesn’t come in elaborate designs, either.
On top, what she’s wearing isn’t a brassiere but rather a blue cloth wrap.
For such a small frame, Lammis’s two fiendishly giant breasts are no match for gravity, and they’re being crushed against her chest. They’re always being compressed by her leather armor, so they’ve never given such an intense impression until now. But with her not wearing much anymore, they pack one heck of a punch. She’s lying on her back, but you can still tell at a glance that they’re extraordinarily large.
“Lammis, did your breasts get bigger again?”
“Did…did they? I don’t really know.”
After staring hard at the weakened Lammis’s chest, Hulemy’s gaze moves to her own before she gives a short, defeated sigh.
She only has a black cloth wrapped around her chest, and it’s close to perfectly flat. Her shapely lower half is sufficiently thick, but it looks like her chest is more concerning for her as a woman.
Personally, big or small—it’s not a problem for me. But male instincts do tend to dictate that your eyes are drawn to the big-breasted women first. I guess it’s natural women would care about it.
In this situation, a man should be excited and happy—but I’m a vending machine, so what do you want me to do? Or rather, a washing machine at the moment. There would be problems if I had too much libido in this form, so complaining about it would be a strange proposition.
After the washing and drying is done, everyone puts on their freshly cleaned clothes, satisfied at the faint scent of detergent as well as how they’re warm to the touch.
“Why don’t we take the day to rest?” suggests Mishuel.
“Good plan,” agrees Hulemy. “It’s only a little past noon, but a day off once in a while is fine, right?”
It looks like they decided not to move for the rest of the day out of consideration for Lammis’s health. The Band of Gluttons proceed to lie on the ground and bask in the sun.
Mishuel’s appetite for washing hasn’t seemed to disappear yet, and he wonders if he could remove the covering from the cart and wash that. Hulemy seems to be reading a book, peering over at the sleeping Lammis every once in a while to make sure she’s fine.
Okay then, what should I do? For now, I’ll go back to my usual vending machine form. Oh, and now Mishuel is making a clearly disappointed face.
Right—now that I have a surplus of points, I could also test out what kind of effects status changes will have.
My vending machine stats are durability, toughness, strength, speed, dexterity, and magic.
I don’t need to verify at this point what durability and toughness do. Speed makes all my functions go faster, so I could increase that more in the future.
The problem is what’s left over: strength, dexterity, and magic. Magic, at least, won’t increase even if I spend points, so I rule that out.
Which brings me to strength. What would “strength” be for a vending machine? At the moment, I don’t have any vending machine forms that require physical power. If I learn how to sprout arms and legs and move under my own power, then the stat might be essential, but I don’t think there’s any use for it right now.
That leaves dexterity…which I don’t really understand. Will it make me able to do more precise things? Right now, I can’t find any features that would require precision, so I don’t feel any need to increase that, either.
Both need ten thousand points to increase by ten, so it would be a waste to dump them into stats I don’t know how to use.
In the end, all I do is think about it. The rest of the day goes by without me increasing any of my stats.
