One Terrifying Second

Think! Think!

His hand brushed the Lovestruck Elixir in his pocket. The vial's pink liquid glowed.

+5 Strength for 10 minutes. But… uncontrollable giggling?

No choice.

He chugged the potion.

[Lucas's Strength +5]

[Side Effect: Giggle Fever – 10:00]

The hatchling lunged.

"H-hey!" Lucas snorted, the tetacle grazed his side.

[Lucas's Health: 70 → 63]

Instead of hissing of pain, a giggle bubbled up from Lucas' mouth. 

"You're uglier th-than my high school math teacher!" He cracked the whip, laughing hysterically.

THWACK!

[Enemy Health: 30 → 18]

The hatchling recoiled, confused by his laughter. Lucas swung the plank again, giggling like a maniac.

WHAM!

[Critical Hit!]

[Enemy Health: 18 → 5]

"D-dance with me!" Lucas wheezed, tears streaming. He kicked the flintlock pistol up, catching it mid-air.

BANG!

[Ammo: 4 → 3]

The bullet pierced the hatchling's main eye.

[Enemy Health: 5 → 0]

The creature collapsed into a puddle of sludge. Lucas doubled over, clutching his sides.

Giggle… wheeze… giggle.

[+35 XP to All Party Member!]

[Loot Dropped: Steel Scrap x10, Monster Ink x2]

He stumbled to the loot, still hiccuping.

"Stupid… haha… Octopus… "

Lucas dumped the steel into the inventory.

[Steel: 27.1 → 37.1/200]

The giggling subsided as the potion wore off. He slumped against the mast, wincing at his bruised ribs. Blood soaked his shirt where the tentacle had struck.

Thud. Clang.

A muffled crash echoed from above deck. 

Aria kicked off the blankets, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. The corset's laces had loosened in her sleep. She tugged it up, but the fabric stubbornly slid back down. Ugh.

"Lucas?"

No answer.

Aria bolted upstairs.

A dead kraken hatchling oozed nearby, its six eyes deflated like sad balloons. Pink tentacle slime coated every surface. Lucas sat cross-legged in a puddle of black goo, shirt torn and bloody, laughing like he'd just won the lottery. 

"What the hell happened?!"

Lucas wheezed, clutching his ribs. "Squid… I won… Hahaha!" His Health bar flickered in her vision:

[Lucas' Health: 63/100]

[Status Effects: Bruised Ribs (Mild Pain), Giggle Fever (01:32 remaining), Bleeding (-1 HP per minute) ]

She marched over, corset creaking with every step. 

"You're bleeding! Why didn't you wake me?!"

"I… heehee… tried!" Lucas snorted.

Aria grabbed his collar, hauling him upright. The motion made her corset dig into her ribs, pushing her chest dangerously close to his face. 

Lucas's giggles died mid-snort.

His face hovered dangerously close to Aria's chest. The torn edges of her corset strained with every breath, the damp fabric clinging to her skin. Her cleavage heaved just inches from his nose.

"Ugh—" Lucas wheezed, his laughter dying as pain shot through his ribs. Blood trickled down his side, staining the deck.

Aria ignored his noise, her hands already ripping the shredded remains of his shirt. The fabric peeled away, revealing a nasty gash across his ribs. Black tentacle slime oozed from the wound.

"Hold still," she ordered, kneeling over him. The short skirt of her Navigator outfit rode up dangerously as she moved, exposing the tops of her thigh-high boots and a sliver of pale skin.

Lucas's eyes flickered downward—a mistake. The angle gave him a direct view down her corset. The sheer fabric did nothing to hide the soft curves beneath. His face burned hotter than the bleeding wound.

Aria didn't notice. She yanked her repaired tank top over her head in one fluid motion, leaving her in just the corset and skirt.

Lucas's breath hitched. The corset's laces groaned as she leaned forward, pressing against him to assess the injury. Her breasts threatened to spill over the top, the damp fabric clinging tighter with every movement.

"You idiot," she muttered, tearing her tank top into bandage strips. The motion made her corset dig deeper into her waist, accentuating every curve.

"I'm… not—"

"Liar."

Aria's hands shook as she examined Lucas's bleeding ribs, his blood stained her fingers crimson. 

Her mind raced—We don't have medical supplies. The infirmary's just unlocked but empty. What's even in this stupid ship?!

Lucas grimaced. "J-just… tie it tight," 

"Shut up," Aria snapped, though her tone lacked its usual bite. Her corset dug into her ribs as she leaned over him. Every movement made the fabric slip lower, but she didn't care. The bleeding wouldn't stop.

Her mind flashed, until she thought of—

Really? Would she go that far? For him?

She hated herself for realizing she had no other choice. 

"Stay here," she ordered, standing abruptly. The skirt of her Navigator outfit rode up her thighs as she moved, but she didn't bother adjusting it.

"Where… are you—?" Lucas started, but she was already stomping downstairs.

Below deck, Aria yanked open a cracked chest, rummaging through junk until her fingers brushed soft, worn cotton. She pulled out the shrunken tank top—the neckline stretched from her earlier attempts to wear it.

This thing barely covers anything, she thought, holding it up. The fabric was still faintly warm from being pressed against her skin days ago. Her cheeks burned. Using this on Lucas? Letting him feel fabric that had hugged her curves, soaked in her sweat…

But it's the only clean cloth we've got.

Gritting her teeth, she marched back upstairs.

Lucas lay slumped against the mast, his breathing shallow. His eyes fluttered open as Aria knelt beside him, the tiny tank top clutched in her hands.

"Wh…what's that?" he croaked.

"Shut up," she said again, refusing to meet his gaze. The corset's laces creaked as she tore the tank top into strips, her breasts straining against the sheer fabric with every forceful rip.

Lucas's eyes widened. 

The shredded garment in her hands was unmistakable—the same tank top she'd fought in days ago, the one that had clung to her curves before the system ruined it. He'd seen it soaked with seawater, torn by tentacles, now… repurposed.

"Is that… your…?"

"I said shut up." Aria's cheeks flamed. She pressed a strip of fabric to his wound, her fingers brushing his bare stomach. The material was still faintly warm, carrying a trace of her scent.

Lucas stiffened. The fabric against his skin felt intimate, wrong and right all at once. This wasn't just cloth—it had hugged her body, absorbed her warmth. Now it was pressed to his bleeding side, sticky with his blood but still unmistakably hers.

Aria avoided his stare, her focus on the wound. Every time she leaned closer, the corset's neckline dipped, offering glimpses of soft cleavage. Lucas forced his eyes shut, but the scent of her—mixed with the metallic tang of blood—filled his senses.

"Hold this," she ordered, guiding his hand to the bandage. 

The ship chose that moment to lurch.

Aria lost her balance, crashing chest-first into Lucas. His nose buried itself in her cleavage, the corset's damp fabric smothering his face.

The world went soft. Warm. Lucas's face pressed into Aria's chest, the damp fabric of her corset smothering his nose and mouth. Her skin burned hotter than a fever, her heartbeat pounding so loud it drowned out the creaking ship. Every nerve in his body froze.

She smelled like sweat and something so temptingly floral.

For one terrifying, electric second, neither moved. Aria's hands gripped his shoulders, her knees straddling his hips. Lucas's hands hovered awkwardly in the air, too scared to touch her. His breath hitched, hot against her cleavage.

Then chaos erupted.

Aria shoved off him like he was on fire, scrambling backward until her back hit the mast. Her face burned crimson, her chest heaving. The corset's laces had loosened further, barely containing her. She crossed her arms tightly, glaring daggers.

"Y-you—!" Her voice cracked. "D-don't even think about it!"

Lucas sat up too fast, pain lancing through his ribs. "I didn't—the ship moved! It was an accident!" His own face felt like a furnace. He wiped his nose, half expecting blood. No luck—just humiliation.

"Shut up!" Aria snarled at the empty air.

Lucas stared at her forehead. The memory of that split second replayed on loop: the crushing softness, the heat, the way her breath had hitched when their bodies collided. He dug his nails into his palms. Stop. Thinking. About. It.

Aria stood abruptly, her boots clomping against the slime-coated deck. "Go to sleep. Now."

"Your, uh—" Lucas gestured vaguely at her corset.

She glanced down. The top lace had come undone, revealing a dangerous amount of cleavage. With a growl, she retired it so tightly the fabric groaned. "Move. Now."