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

Many people cross the streets of the Holy City.

The city was usually in driving during the hours of shifting from morning to noon, in the refreshing sun.

In the meantime, from the group of spires of the temple in the centre, the bells are rang many times.

It is the temple of the god of commerce.

Now on the inside of it, there was a ritual of closure.

(... sleepy)

That word stands for everything I am.

Last night was my last night, so I strained too much.

(Pony Girl Derby worked)

Reminds me of last night.

Pony Girl Derby is a race that crosses a woman who stands out on a horse and competes fiercely for blame goals.

The strong thing about this race is the woman's outfit.

I'm wearing a hook, but all I see is a nose hook. Some women are blinkers, but can I say something that completely blocks their sight, blinkers? Very doubtful.

And naturally, the tail is properly followed.

"... are you going to beat me with this?"

I have no experience playing with this hand, I ask the horse owner horribly.

Still to say youth, he grinned refreshingly as he saw the whip in my hand.

"Yes, please do it thoughtfully. My wife would love that."

Wife, upset to hear the word. I accidentally dived into my voice and asked again.

"Are you sure you want someone as red as me to whip your wife?"

"You're a stranger, that's okay.... Well, to be honest, a little older would have been nice."

The young horse owner doesn't change his smile.

I don't understand the older part, I lean my neck.

"Think about it. A middle-aged man who doesn't know what to do with his wife."

You'll be excited, the voice of the horse owner's youth, who so says, is feverish and his eyes shine with passion.

To me lagging behind, the young horseman, who took a step forward, pointed at his wife and overlapped words.

"Look, my wife's happy to hear what she's saying now,"

A blinker, or a woman in a completely blind state. The body is clearly more red than it was earlier.

Two tails rocked up and down, as if to affirm the horseman's words.

"... sure, sounds delightful"

I'll take a look at the floor.

Shizukuishi began to drip from one root, with potpouts and marks on the carpet.

(Cultural diversity)

I encountered a situation that exceeded the ceiling of sensitivity, and the words came to my mind.

The protection and development of diverse cultural arts is well designed, this world.

Adults as well as children, both men and women, are exposed to a wide range of cultures throughout their bodies. I just realized that earlier in the peripheral area.

(I guess this nostalgic culture has fostered a wide variety of values)

Don't deny it because you don't understand.

For me, this world of "living, visiting" is built on tolerance that respects each other. I feel that strongly.

(It is very important to reach out to different cultures and deepen mutual understanding on your journey)

Um, nodding, humming the whip, humming.

The horse who hears the sound, for a moment, can tremble in fright.

(And it's hard to say I understand this culture)

Think about the increase in the amount of Shizuku that drips down while checking with your eyes.

Typically, racing riders are served by regular customers with proven track records. At first sight, people like me just play on experience courses.

But there were people in the audience who knew I was a divine match player, and they were going to run away in the process.

(lighthearted, shouldn't)

Change your mind.

We must do everything we can to respect and deepen our understanding of different cultures. So determined, cross over to the horseman's wife and get to the position.

And the race began.

Ponygirl Derby doesn't actually run. The only thing that runs is the inside of the flesh and the mind.

Goal also means that the mind finishes and the body responds to the mind.

But this race doesn't mean it should be sooner. One is not the winner, and ranking is in order of two, three, and one.

Everyone but me was going to have a good time.

But I will betray my surrounding expectations and win.

"Most athletes are too nice to be late."

Horse owners rejoice, but wonder. But for me with the Devil's Eye, finishing in second place wasn't as difficult as the horseman thought.

Sure, there's confusion.

It's a world where pain and humiliation feel good and I don't understand. But I literally ghosted my mind and relied on the color temperature of the pony girl to run it off.

When this happens, the other riders get serious.

Exactly. Regular riders. Although I won the prize, I haven't won since World War I.

Why, while I have the Devil's Eye, I can no longer win. That's my mental weakness.

(Exactly right in front of your husband, I can't call you 'female pig')

The other riders fly angular bubbles and curse horseback riding violently.

The horse responds to the whip of the word and accelerates explosively at the last push. Plus, I've been screwed over and over.

I know it works, but I couldn't get that far.

By the way, if you start winning, you'll get an audience to bet on me.

If the bet starts, naturally, the wild will also fly.

Fueled and hot by the nasty wild, I ended up serving as a rider until my final run.

(I didn't know I could be put on such an incitement, but I was immature)

I shake my head trying to clear my consciousness.

(But I didn't expect to even get an award)

Having done well as a rookie, I will shine in the crown of the Daily Rookie Award.

And the prize for this rookie prize is another crook.

It was a prize for a woman like a rough horse who had the right to teach and give in.

The flavor of Pony Girl Play seems to be here.

(Sure, it wasn't bad)

Because of the progress in understanding different cultures, I was able to feel the joy of satisfying my desire to dominate.

At the same time, however, qi strength is on the verge of limit, hedgehog.

Thanks to you, I was dead on the bed until just now.

Whether he knocked or called, he couldn't do it at all.

An old man with a strong side eventually dragged him out of the futon, he said. I'm sorry.

(... yet, not enough sleep)

And the current state.

Bite the yawn to death. To the extent of the dark coffee I drank to get up and out, nothing.

"Look, the ritual begins."

Elbow poked by guild length.

Soon after the awards ceremony, lightning on the stage, stands alone.

The venue has been heavily reprogrammed and there are no more rounded stages fought by Mr. Cool and his team yesterday.

All there is is is a large rectangular stage, provided in the front.

It is surrounded by a semi-circular staircase. Close to making a concert hall.

(Looks good)

My healing magic is healing my injuries.

The blood color is good and I feel like I'm getting angry. I'm not sleepless like me.

(This can be expected)

With that in mind, the surroundings creep and the mighty old man raises his voice, whoops.

Looks like a pure girl took the stage.

Dark-colored, wavy middle short.

Purity like a country girl has the suction of a Buglow painted girl.

(I don't know who it is, but you do)

Blonde, white-skinned, crystal-clear girl is good, but this is also good.

I admired the depth of my taste in the guy I chose.

And finally, before God, the ritual begins to scatter the purity of the girl.

Lightning was a gentleman.

I don't do anything like jump a girl from a distance and see a series of punches in a steep spot.

Carefully use your hands and mouth, and your moustache well, getting the girl ready.

And somewhat moist, he began to sink himself carefully.

(Is there a way to use this?)

I'm impressed.

Lightning had turned the lightning sword from poking to vibrating.

Fleure trembling in small pieces gently pushes open the untouched wall to the left and right.

(If any, it hurts)

The voice of a comforting girl tickles my ears, as it corroborates my predictions.

(Hmm?)

But as soon as he starts coming in, Lightning pulls his hips.

The ribbon wrapped around the roots was then re-tied in the position it had just entered.

(What are you gonna do?

Lightning then vibrates Fleure back and forth inside the girl.

But never try to step deeper than a ribbon.

(I see)

No matter how slightly vibrated Fleure is, the girl's core remains stiff.

I guess I'm not going to force it, and I'm going to take the time.

A shallow round trip to the ribbon slowly loosens the girl up.

And not for a short time.

Even I, now in the audience, can see the fire coming through to the girl's core and softening. Plenty of gravy, too.

Lightning nodded, putting the ribbon back to its roots.

(Finally)

I'm nervous for some reason.

The same seems to be true of the surroundings, where the sound of throat ringing reaches the ears.

Lightning made the same move as before without letting the girl get herself up, but this time at once, she pierced Fleure to the roots.

"Huh!"

A girl's voice rips the air out.

But it doesn't sound like pain or distress.

My voice is trembling at the sudden joy I have been given in a position I have never tasted before.

And in the overflowing gravy, a testament of purity was given, mixed.

At that moment, the venue boils at once.

"Congratulations!"

"Oh my goodness!

Everyone speaks out their blessings.

I don't know what it is, but there's a lot of tension around. Maybe this is the power of culture.

I get up, too, and scream the words of celebration.

"Lightning! Lightning!

The names of the brave are called together.

Aren't you used to lightning, it looks like it stinks.

But in his eyes, tears seep in.

(Chuckles)

The back of my nose becomes a tung.

I'm crying because I'm impressed by the atmosphere around me.

"Lightning! Lightning!

The name-calling chorus lasted until Lightning unleashed it in the girl. The girl was able to offer her purity to God.