"Um… maybe… probably because the toxins in my body haven't been fully expelled yet. Yeah, that's probably it."
The female fighter scratched her cheek awkwardly with a finger, clearly lying through her teeth.
See, for someone to become a street fighter, it's not just about being tough, picking fights, banging the boss's wife, or collecting protection fees. Any street fighter with ambition always practices one thing—
Poison arts.
Yep. Poison arts.
Some of them take small doses of toxins over long periods until they become immune to most poisons. Their whole body becomes toxic—literally walking bioweapons.
Others focus on spreading poison—using explosives or all sorts of delivery methods. She was one of the latter.
Always either soaking in venom or on the hunt for deadly substances, her body had long surpassed ordinary poison in terms of lethality.
Which was also why most doctors had no idea how to treat them.
Because their bodies could already shrug off most conventional medicine.
Heck, they rarely got sick, and even that was thanks to the poison in their system.
But once they did get sick? That was it. Game over.
Because it meant their body could no longer suppress the internal toxins—and they'd literally poison themselves to death.
But all that had nothing to do with Ryuji.
"...I feel like I totally got scammed here."
He grumbled, completely deflated.
He'd spent all this time, wasted energy, spent money—only to end up with a woman whose body was practically made of poison. Completely unusable. He'd have been better off doing nothing.
Just sticking a finger in had made his nail twist. If he dared shove his dick in there, forget about pulling it back out—it wouldn't be a dick anymore.
"How about I give you some of my homemade poison as compensation?" she offered, scratching her cheek again in awkward apology.
"...Forget it. What's done is done." He sighed in defeat. "Just help me find a few good-looking girls I can pay for some fun. Ideally the kind with a tragic past, broken families—call it your way of repaying your debt to me for saving your life."
"Hmm… that might be hard," she said, scratching her head again.
Because seriously—there weren't any.
"Any attractive girls who're poor usually go straight to the brothels. Or they end up like me—on the streets, full of poison. And the ones who don't have those skills? You can't get them even with money. So… why not just go to a brothel?"
She looked at him, genuinely confused.
"Because I don't want to catch anything. That's why I was hoping to find someone with a clean bill of health, like you guys. Y'know—at least people with strong bodies usually don't have diseases…"
Ryuji shrugged.
"But you? You don't just not give me a disease—you might kill me outright."
He was just trying to get her back to Lux quickly, but that didn't mean he wanted to die in the process!
If she hadn't still been a virgin, he wouldn't have even considered it. In this kind of world, brothels were just public STD exhibitions.
"I see…" the female fighter muttered, scratching her head again.
"In that case… if you've got enough money, you could try sponsoring one of the pro wrestlers."
She said it with a face full of disdain.
"Those flashy performers who care more about drama than real combat still gotta eat, right? Their training gear isn't cheap either. Every year, there's always news of some female wrestler ending up as someone's mistress or sugar baby. They're easy to approach, too. Just say you want to learn judo or whatever, and you can get close fast. Find a hot one with a nice body, flash some cash, and boom—private, up-close combat training. Let her see your personality and wealth over time, and you'll be in her bed before long."
She pointed vaguely down the street.
"But honestly? I don't get what's so appealing about all that fancy tricks. 'Rules'? 'Honor'? Pfft. In real combat, there's no such thing. The only rule is stay alive. Those performers'll never know what true martial arts even mean."
She practically radiated contempt at that point.
Ryuji suddenly asked, "Do they make more money than you?"
The female fighter fell silent. Her expression darkened as she looked at him.
"...Yeah. You got a problem with that?!"
She growled, then reached down to pick up the tiny scrap of cloth she'd removed earlier, refastening it over her hips—covering up what was actually a pretty cute little garden down there. Then she jumped off the bed.
"Which means I really can't repay you. Come find me again when you've built up a tolerance to my poison. Until then, I've got debts to collect!"
She made for the exit without looking back.
But his eyes were glued to the way her swaying breasts bounced with every step—especially the way her outfit framed them, with the fabric cut specifically to expose her chest. They looked like perfectly gift-wrapped melons.
He thought for a moment, then reached out and pressed a hand to her shoulder.
"Your skin… isn't poisonous, right?"
"...Huh?"
The female fighter blinked, confused, then curled her lips into a grin.
"I know exactly what you're thinking," she said. "But too bad—once I start sweating, my body secretes toxins. You sure you wanna use these?"
She grabbed her own breasts without shame, squeezing them tightly and giving them a little shake right in front of him.
Ryuji, with his vast and deeply cursed experience, could instantly tell—this was a top-tier, professional-level breast-flaunting technique!
"...You're a virgin with zero experience. How the hell are you so damn good at this?"
He blurted it out. But the female fighter just stayed perfectly calm, completely unfazed.
"When I was a kid, my next-door neighbor was a hooker," she said casually. "She taught me this stuff. Said if I ever couldn't afford to eat, I could use it to trade for food. That way I wouldn't have to dig through dumpsters. Oh—wait…"
Her eyes suddenly lit up.
"I just remembered—maybe I can repay you after all!"
She turned serious for once, her gaze locking onto him.
"But first—just to confirm—you really are loaded, right?"
Ryuji glanced at his inventory. Still tens of thousands of steel ingots left. With the crafting system from 7 Days to Die, he could turn out a ton of valuable goods. Like katanas, for example.
Those should fetch a decent price in this world.
"Yeah, you could say I'm rich. I'm planning to open a weapons shop, actually."
He wasn't lying. He already had a location picked out—right next to Kiri's enhancer. A specialty katana store.
"Perfect!" she grinned. "I know this judo girl who's been tight on money lately. If you're not opposed to short-haired types, I could introduce you!"
Short hair. Practices judo.
Ryuji felt a very bad feeling creeping up his spine.
And then she confirmed his worst fears.
"She's young, yeah—but she's already earned the title of Eye of the Storm! If you invest in her now, it'll be a huge win!"
—I freaking knew it!
~~~~~~~~
Bonus chapter target: 300 PS.