I Got a Cheat and Moved to Another World, so I Want to Live as I Like

That evening, I was walking in the pleasure zone.

The fact that I kept admiring female students at the Pilot's School made me feel better.

(I wonder where)

Walk fluffy.

Recently, certain circumstances made it difficult for me to enter a luxury whorehouse.

But the king's capital is wide.

There must still be a store open to me.

(If most of it gets cold, we'll be able to go again, won't we?

Such expectations are only a little too.

By the way, this world has a great understanding of the existence of a whorehouse.

It is widely recognized as an extremely powerful tourist resource.

In the original world, for example, it is comparable to the Louvre Museum, the British Museum or the Palazzo Versailles.

In fact, with the historic famous whorehouse district, that city seems to be the only one that can function as a tourist city.

And I recently learned that the kingdom's capital seems to be quite a tourist city.

(Before me, the ocean should still be wide open)

With that in mind, I stepped through alleys everywhere.

And one of the whorehouses caught my eye.

"All-you-can-eat"

That's what it says on the sign.

The building itself is ancient, from the point of view of its construction, but definitely an inferior whorehouse.

But the wording of the sign, along with the doubts, sparked interest in my mind.

(Usually there is a time limit, but there should be no limit on the number of bullets. Yet what the hell does all-you-can-eat mean?

If you don't know, you can ask.

I knocked on the door quickly.

(Hmm?)

Sudden discomfort.

Without a lobby, no chicks. Just a reception in a room that's not even big and a door in the back.

The old man at the reception, he says, "Welcome," and bows his head.

"Excuse me, this is my first time, what kind of store is this?

In my words, the old man, with his quiet business smile, begins to explain.

"The restaurant in front of us is an all-you-can-eat restaurant"

So I don't know that.

Seeing how I was, the old man kept explaining.

"Behind this, there are dozens of women. In time, you can eat all you want."

That said, point to the door.

One thing I can't understand right now.

It might be quicker to experience it than to overlap the questions.

With that in mind, the back door opened slightly and the red-faced old man came out.

"Dear treat"

The red-faced old man called the old man at the reception.

The old man at the reception is polite and courteous because he's serving customers to me.

(What's that?

I was feeling uncomfortable.

To the red-faced old man, not. The door and the space behind it.

The door looks heavier than the door I went through when I walked into the store.

Packing applied around doors and frames would be a sign that soundproofing measures are in place.

And while the door was open, a familiar male and female battle sounded leaking from behind the door.

(Seems very different from before)

I think so and laugh niggly.

Beyond this door, it looks like a battlefield right now.

I am concerned about the battlefield in pleasure streets. Just what I want.

"Okay, please."

I'll give you my guild card to pay.

The old man at the reception says exciting things as he does his accounting.

"We have several customers, so please give priority to the early ones and do not continue to be exclusive."

I'm a man with a lot of experience in this world, too.

Even if I don't know what I'm waiting for, I'm going to know the extent of my manners.

I nod to the old man at the receptionist, not knowing what it means.

And I pushed open the heavy door in the back, leaping my mind into the unknown.

"Oh!"

My voice leaks unexpectedly.

It was the landscape at the end of the century that was spreading across the door.

In the large space, there stands veneer plates with painted colors and wallpapers, making them appear on the background and on the exterior walls of the building.

It seems to be reproducing the entire city of Wang Du.

Cheap construction, but the effort is pretty good. This is the capital of the king, and the will comes through.

The difference from the fact is that there are mats everywhere.

(Is this your taste?)

I look around.

By the way, I said the end of the century, not because it's ruin. The set of tools recreates the present king's capital, not the ruins.

So what is it, the end of the century?

Atmosphere.

Because this space is filled with screams and whispers of women and excited calls of men.

Clearly, women in private clothes are walking around the set of stages imitating Wang Du.

And the men who gave themselves up to the beast are attacking the women in private clothes, depending on their allowances.

Across the Wang capital, they are captured, horseback ridden, or covered, in unilateral combat.

This, black, drooling, beastly atmosphere made me think of the word, the end of the century.

(Exactly, all you can eat)

Know that there is no lie or falsehood in the signs about the men's appearance.

And I think.

(Brilliant)

I commend the idea and the courage with which it was carried out.

Even if you come up with it, it's not quite what you can actually do.

(A junior whorehouse is not the same as a luxury whorehouse store that attracts customers by name value)

A luxury store with high-quality women, sidelines on chicks and slopes. Reminds me of that sight.

(If you don't keep putting out your own flavor, maybe the customer will leave soon)

Once again, I admire the creativity of this store.

The fact that the women who go there are never the most beautiful women in the world, and the wide range of age groups adds to the sense of everyday life.

(Though this everyday feeling probably wasn't meant to be.)

The reality of junior stores that have to dominate those who could not work in luxury or intermediate stores, or who are getting older.

I guess that brought this sense of everyday life, in a secondary way.

I was intrigued and decided to take a stroll around Wang Du at the end of the century.

Everywhere, women are being hitched.

I walk through them.

Some hitchers are genuine if they do it, while others have too many problems with women's acting skills.

Just look at that, it's pretty funny.

But it's time for me to join the war.

(Let it be that one)

In front of me, a woman is walking.

It's a long-skirt woman.

Left and right swinging hips, not bad.

I'm gonna follow her around.

A woman walks away without showing such a gesture, knowing I exist.

Undoubtedly, he knows what he's doing.

"Hyah!"

I'm gonna hit you from behind.

I haven't even seen my face. I don't even know how old I am.

I just decided to look behind me and attacked him from behind.

My ten fingers cuddling from the rear just happen to make her ready OK.

"Ugh!

Put it up and break in from behind.

The line is a ride. This kind of thing is better enjoyed on board.

After some fun, she peaked, so I pull back.

I learned from my experience with the light patrol teacher. Too much is not good, he said.

(Well, what do we do next)

I'm still halfway there. I want a replacement.

When I looked up, I saw someone relatively close to me.

A woman in her late twenties, full of mobs.

Decide to replace it.

"Hyah!"

I run to her, half-naked.

Mr. Mobko combines his hands in front of him, screaming "kah" or something.

Very deliberate. For the sake of manhood, I want you to learn a little more acting.

"Hiya ahhhh!"

On the verge of my reaching Mr. Mobble, another voice, not mine, echoes.

And the focus of Mr. Mobble's eyes, which was tailored to me, goes off into the air.

(What happened?

Look around.

I don't know.

View Mr. Mobb.

... ok.

The shadow stretching out of Mobko's foot, which showed Mobko that something was attached from behind.

(Grandpa...)

That was my little grandpa.

Grandpa, who now distorted his face with excitement like a starving monkey while leaving behind a shadow that seemed warm everyday, was poking his desire from behind.

Mobble child, who rapidly loses his highlight from his eyes, bends his knee to the floor.

Grandpa waves his hips at will.

(The old man at the reception said it was an early priority)

I've decided to give up Mr. Mobble.

But my desire to take my place doesn't heal.

Then a woman caught my eye.

She looks like a jersey woman.

He has mops and buckets in his hand and cleans battlefield tracks.

If you looked around, there were several women in similar jerseys, all cleaned.

(Well, a clean environment is a must to feel comfortable)

By the way, I blame the old man at the reception.

Don't target cleaning women, I didn't say. Definitely.

"Hyah!"

I jump on the cleaning lady.

Women surprise, resist, but are pointless.

There aren't many women who can fight me up to this level.

When she was ready, she broke in from the front.

Why did you choose the cleaning lady?

That's because she looked a little like the bereavement widow I took care of on my way from Landburn to Awok.

Moderately old, flirtatious, and slightly darker that look.

Umbilical Tanda reacted.

And she, too, must have had something to feel while doing this job. When it hit me, I was quite ready.

As I was cleaning, I got hitched one after the other, and I guess I got a little flustered by some grown-up women.

I remember the mourning widow who taught me the basics of how to treat women, while enjoying the soft taste of the cleaner plenty.

Give the cleaning lady a multi-eyed chip as an apology for interrupting her work.

By the way, Grandpa, who was attacking Mr. Mobble earlier, was finishing things with the roar of the beast before I interrupted the cleaning lady.

And as I look around me, I storm the woman who was closest to me, whispering oddly, and start waving back again.

(What's so fast, and what's so stunning)

Terrible breeding power.

Maybe that grandpa is drawing goblin blood.

While doing that, I resumed my walk.

(ends here)

Even if it's a large space, it's endless.

I was standing in front of a real wall, not a set.

(Hmm?)

Faint, there are signs of people.

Maybe he's playing something interesting again.

I glanced at the signs so they wouldn't notice me.

(WHAT)

Disappointed.

I thought something funny was going on, but it was just a woman skipping.

A relatively young child is crushing time with a book in one hand in the shadows. I found it.

(Perhaps the system here is a fixed salary + chip. Just for a fixed salary, I guess some kids are coming)

Going out with women is also part of the background and performance.

If they don't do it, they won't earn it. Maybe women won't get together.

Some fixed wages are effective as a measure.

When I was thinking about it, suddenly, I felt strange.

Skipping in the shadows, young, hairy girl.

If you're doing this, it'll be good for the store that's setting up and executing an interesting plan, and it'll be good for her.

Hey, let's educate him.

(Hyah!)

I don't have a voice, I'm going to hit you from behind.

With that recoil, Savory stuck his head into a pile of cushions.

Savory, buried in the mountain where he was hiding, tries to get up, but won't let him. In the same position, start cooking.

Where the book distracts me, I get attacked from behind, and while I don't turn around, I get ready to break in.

Savory is in the middle of a mess right now.

The other guy, who doesn't even know his face, suddenly breaks in. Savory must be experiencing strangely realistic fears.

(Oh?)

While I was cooking, I noticed something.

(Savory is not properly developed)

Yes, it is.

The circuit Circuit, which feels joy, was not properly built.

Now it wouldn't be fun to be at work. I also know you want to kill time.

(Leading backwards is also the role of the advanced)

I think of Teaching Light Patrol Sensei, and I renew my thoughts, whether I am or not.

Quickly, we embarked on the development of Savory.

A few dozen minutes later, the final finish was carried out and the development of the savory was completed.

The concept of development is Grandpa Goblin.

Grandpa Goblin, quick.

Divine speed.

I want that Goblin Grandpa of Divine Speed to be able to enjoy it too. That was the performance I asked for.

Initially, development was difficult to navigate.

I can't handle anything other than Grandpa Goblin simply because I've increased my sensitivity.

If you're too sharp, it's a soul crisis if you keep going. I'm going to need some holiday compensation.

(Any opponent, a fun and workable savory)

I want you to be a savory with a wide defensive range.

My thoughts, the extra help of my gaze from the top, brought me to heaven.

(Not sensitive. You should get your hands on it by setting the conditions)

Immediately, unfold a sequence diagram in your mind.

From there, development progressed at once.

Force the Death March on the Savory and finish it last.

Check the operation. No problem.

And here, a new savory was born.

(Satisfied)

I'm Nico to the finish.

There are only two conditions I set for Savory.

The first never finishes unless poured in.

The second, if poured, is forced to finish.

That's all.

I cautioned that even though I sensibly crossed the limit, I couldn't finish it because it wasn't infused,

It's called preventing dry conditions.

If we don't take firm measures on this, it will break.

Therefore, unless poured, certain or more irritations were decided to be cut.

Instead, if poured, he made sure to finish instantly with extremely great joy.

I'm sure Savory will be able to taste the feeling of the landscape melting like a candy maker.

Savory is currently in the process of shutting down and restarting.

The reborn savory should be here when he rises again.

"To your future, Kota."

I buried her in the cushion and hid herself, slowly walking away so she wouldn't get turned off during the reboot.