"Mhm..."
Zeroy stood in the kitchen, looking at the sliced vegetables and neatly arranged plates, wondering to herself why Kuroka hadn't come back yet.
Then Patchouli's voice suddenly rang out before her.
"Speaking of which—"
"Ah... Patchi, what is it?"
Although it was sudden, Zeroy didn't show the slightest sign of panic, turning naturally toward the kitchen entrance where Patchouli was quietly watching her.
"You still haven't paid me yesterday's reward."
"Oh, right. Has Patchi decided what kind of reward you want?"
"A lap pillow."
"Hm?"
"Before Kuroka finishes preparing lunch, I'd like to rest a little. So, Zeroy, provide me with a lap pillow the same way I did for you last night."
"...A lap pillow, huh. Alright."
She still hesitated, even if just for a moment.
Patchouli silently took note of Zeroy's reaction.
...
Zeroy lightly sat down on the sofa, fingers brushing over her skirt, smoothing the soft fabric across her thighs like arranging a precious canvas, drawing out gentle curves.
"Alright, come here."
She invited softly, her tone carrying a trace of tenderness.
Patchouli said nothing, slowly laying her head down onto that warm lap-heaven.
Zeroy's thighs had just the right fullness—not the thin, hard type, not the extreme skinniness many girls chased after, but a soft, curving kind of fleshly beauty.
From afar, her legs looked slim and elegant, their near-perfect proportions outlining a pleasing silhouette.
The gentle curves flowed as naturally as water, exuding an alluring charm.
Only when she wore stockings did the faint press into her flesh quietly reveal this beautiful secret.
It was precisely this well-balanced plumpness that made her lap pillow into an ideal resting place—neither bony enough to jab, nor too soft to lack support, as if born for this purpose, perfectly comfortable.
Many people think lap pillows feel good largely because of psychology.
Between close ones—lovers, family—a lap pillow naturally carries an intimate, reassuring atmosphere.
Resting one's head close to the other's abdomen or thighs, hearing their breathing, feeling their warmth—this sense of closeness relaxes more than the physical comfort itself.
That psychological warmth is indeed part of why lap pillows feel so good.
However, that's not to say the physical comfort doesn't matter.
Aside from awkward positioning, whether a lap pillow is comfortable depends on the provider's fullness of flesh and, just as much, on their mental state.
If the one providing it feels nervous or exhausted, their muscles will tense, turning softness into stone.
So then, what was Patchouli's sensation at this moment?
Comfortable—simply very comfortable!
Even she, usually the calm and rational sorceress of knowledge, found herself entranced by the bliss of it.
Though it was her first time experiencing Zeroy's lap pillow, she understood such comfort required both the right physical balance and a relaxed mind.
And it wasn't only the pillow itself—Zeroy's demeanor and reactions now were all utterly natural.
"You always work so hard. Take a good rest now, alright?"
She spoke while gently stroking Patchouli's violet hair.
In any case, Patchouli couldn't detect even a trace of resistance or anything but kindness from Zeroy.
That left her a little lost.
Judging from Zeroy's earlier resistance, her reaction now shouldn't be like this.
Yet of course—
Though Zeroy resisted contact with Patchouli out of fear of exploiting their same-gender closeness, lap pillows didn't count.
A lap pillow clearly meant she herself was the one being taken advantage of; she was the one being touched.
So naturally, Zeroy showed no unusual reaction.
Rest away, as long as you want!
And so Patchouli, in her confusion, drifted off to sleep.
Despite not being tired at all, despite her main reason for asking being to test Zeroy's reaction and her second reason to seek closeness, the comfort overwhelmed her and she unintentionally dozed off.
When she awoke again, it was to Kuroka finishing lunch and Zeroy calling her up.
After the meal, Zeroy borrowed the [Azure Box of Revolution] and the [Ultimate Karmic Wheel] again and began new simulation experiments.
These simulations were not only steps toward the utopia Zeroy envisioned.
The more she pondered, the more social problems she tackled, the more she felt something within her was quietly changing.
She felt as if she were growing—not just in her understanding of utopia, but something else growing alongside it.
She couldn't quite put it into words, the feeling so vague that even she wondered if it was just an illusion.
Still, her intuition told her the simulations were crucial.
Important enough to even set aside pest purges for the time being.
Yet she couldn't keep them going endlessly.
Her body couldn't withstand the long-term strain of operating two Longinuses at full capacity, and her mind couldn't endure the drain of confronting endless problems.
It was a vast, profound undertaking.
Building a resource-equal society and shaping it into a utopia wasn't as simple as changing economic systems or creating a super AI to oversee everything. It touched politics, technology, culture, education, ethics, and more.
And that was under the premise that everyone in the simulation was a fictional being shaped by Zeroy, burdened with heavy templating.
They were creations, their minds lacking many [original influences].
Meaning, if she wanted to realize this utopia in reality, she would have to consider what education these people had received, what environments they lived in, and how to change their thoughts.
The constant thinking and problem-solving in the simulations risked overloading Zeroy's brain.
So she had to rest, to do other things to relax—like killing pests.
Still, her enthusiasm never dimmed. In less than two days, even after a hundred failures in the simulations, her passion didn't falter.
Because whenever she envisioned the scene of utopia fulfilled, Zeroy's fervor would never fade.
...
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