"Hermes, please for the rest of your life!
Yeah, say it.
....

　Inside the usual brothel, Ortia's room.
　We were alone, and after Ortizia served me there and then, she cut me off as usual.

　So I told her to talk to me anyway, but Oltia's eyes widened and she was kind of surprised.

'What's the matter,'
"Hermes?
Yeah?
Please for life!

　Again, Ortiz clasps his hands together and bows his head.

'Yeah, so tell me?'
....

　Ortiz is surprised again and doesn't say the all-important "lifetime request".

'What's going on, really?'
What's wrong with you, little Hermes?　I don't do the usual grizzling--aahhhhhh!
If you say so much, I'll give you the grill. You're right.
You've got more RPMs than you've ever had in your life, Hermes.

　RPMs.

　When I've finished groping around and fulfilled my promise, I let go of my hand and ask again.

'So, what's the request of a lifetime this time?'
'Pfft. There's something funny about this lifetime of requests--Itah-tah-tah-tah!
Don't feel sorry for me.

　I gave him a muzzles that had a higher feel-good rotation rate than before.
　The second set of grizzling was over, and I urged him to get down to business this time.

''You know, isn't it June now?''
Yeah.
June is the month of the bride, right?
...why?

　I nod my head, "I don't know if there is such a thing.

'You don't know, Hermes-chan?'

　I had an auditory hallucination that was like, "Oops!
　With that kind of flirtation, Ortiz explains.

It's a tradition that was spread long ago by the only man who was loved by our original founder, the Great Sage Ortiz-sama. It is said that if you marry in June, the bride will be absolutely happy.
Hmm, does that mean that the farmer who said he'd better get married now because he's done with farming in the springtime, or does it mean that he's taking it into consideration?
....

　Ortiz was startled again and looked at me with wide eyes.

'You're amazing, Hermes,'
Huh?
'Yeah, I know. When I think back to my childhood, it's definitely easier to get married at this time of year, and everyone was at this time.
"Hmm.

　Ortizia rarely talks about her past on her own.
　The story now, and she was probably born on a farm - that was the most in-depth past information I knew about her, despite our long association.

'So, that's part of it, and we're talking about working in our bride's clothes for the whole month of June.
As a bride do you wear a wedding dress?
Yeah. Lots of guys secretly like to do it like that.
...I see.

　Men are stupid, aren't they?　But I decided to swallow it.
　Instead.

"But is that okay?
What?
A prostitute is supposed to be a hired gun or something, and then go on to become a regular wife, right?　Isn't a bride's figure something you want to save until then?
....

　Ortiz, who is also pompously exclaiming again.
　There's a lot of this kind of thing, today.

'What's up?'
No.....

　With a small shake of her head, Ortia hugged me.

'Oltia?'
It's that way.
Yeah?
I'm just glad to have someone who understands me, even if it's just for a minute.
...Ortizia.
So....

　With a snap, she pulls away from me and returns to her usual bright smile.

'A job is a job, you have to dress like that and make sure the guests who come in have a good time.
Well yes.

　I felt like I was being reminded of Ortia's professionalism again.
　She is a prostitute, and she doesn't get paid for her deeds other than being a prostitute.

　Sometimes I think she's too stubborn, but that stubbornness - in other words, her persistence - is her charm.
　Then I felt compelled to help her.

'So how does that bridal figure connect to a lifetime of requests?
'Yes!　Since you're here, are you feeling more pure or holy?　And I want to get it out.
"Mmm-hmm.
"So, I'm going to get you a dress made of St. Cirin's yarn - Hermes, please for life!　Go get me some of St. Cirin's threads.
Okay.

　I responded immediately.
　When I accepted the contract unexpectedly easily (...), Ortiz looks at me with a surprised look on her face.

　I don't even have to think about why she's surprised.

I'll get it right away.

　I ran out of the whorehouse, leaving Oltia behind.

　　　　　☆

　The thread of St. Cirin seems to be a thread that is spat out by a special silkworm living in Mount Caen.

　I heard about the place and headed there immediately.
　We trudged from the city of Pindos for a day and a night in half a day, and then climbed up the mountain where there was only a beast trail.

''Mmm,''

　I didn't need to ask anyone to tell me where it (,) was.
　When we came to about halfway up the mountainside, there was a surprising amount of clean air in the air.

　And it was spreading in a way that made it obvious that it was originating from a certain point.

　I made my way to the source.
　The air was gradually becoming purer and purer, and it was beginning to seem like a sanctuary.

　It(,) was there.

　In the middle of an open meadow, there was a white bug, one size larger than a human.

　The bug kept spitting its thread to a point.
　Normally silkworms produce thread that wraps itself around them and uses them as a chrysalis to provide a protective barrier for hatching, but it didn't wrap itself around them, it just spat out - and spat away - at a single point.

　I don't know what he's throwing up for, but I know that's what he's after.

　Now, how should I get it?

　I stared at Silkworm and St. Cirin's thread, observing it intently.

　It was a close call.

　How fragile it felt.
　If I tried to force it away, the thread would break - no.

　I could see that it was so fragile that it might even collapse(...).

　You can't force it, I know that.
　Then what should I do - and I was thinking about it.

".........

　The silkworm looked at me.
　It was an insect, but it was eye to eye.

　They have surprisingly deep eyes.
　It makes me feel as if I'm staring at a human being.

'Have you come to rob me?'
No, it's not.
No pressure?
No.
Okay, then.

　Is it an auditory hallucination or just a conjecture?

　In the present moment, it felt like he had exchanged such an exchange with Silkworm.

　Silkworm continued to spit the thread.
　I sat there and held still.

　I don't know why, but I knew I had to wait.

　The sun was setting and the moon was rising.
　The moon darkens and the sun rises.

　Silkworm spat all night long.

　Strange, I thought. I thought to myself, "What the hell?

　She had been vomiting all night, but the volume of the thread hadn't increased at all.

　It felt as if she was staring at the circular sign of a barbershop.
　It was going up and up and up, but it wasn't actually moving.
　That's the same feeling.

　Shortly after, Silkworm stopped spitting the thread.
　And without even looking at me, she just walked away.

　I was left with me, and the thread Silkworm spat out.

　I moved closer and took the thread fearfully in my hand.

'Strong.'

　I couldn't help but think of those words as coming out of my mouth.
　The thread was strong and strong, without any of the fragility I had felt yesterday when I saw it.

　As far as the purity is concerned, it had a holy air about it, so much so that I knew it was a favorite for the bride's wedding dress.

　I returned to Pindos with the thread I had obtained without doing anything.

　　　　　☆

　The lobby of the whorehouse.
　The prostitutes, including Ortiz, were staring in amazement at the thread I had brought back.

'What's wrong, isn't this what you're looking for?
No, it's about...

　Oltia was fidgeting for some reason.

'Heh, Hermes-chan. Wasn't it hard for you to get this?''
No, no.

　It's no big deal for Ortiz.
　And I didn't really do anything.

　I just went out there and brought it back.

　Maybe I didn't force the issue, because I used good judgment, but it was no big deal.

'Well, I'll leave it at that. Good luck.

　I said, and left the whorehouse.
　I'm looking forward to seeing Ortiz's bride, so let's come and visit her during the period.

　　　　　☆

　The lobby of the whorehouse after Hermes left.

　The prostitutes swarmed over the threads of St. Cirin's and touched them.
　With a click, sparks flew.

How can you get such high quality, such high purity St. Silin thread?
My lord, you're not so bad after all.
It's still so cool and I'm so jealous of you, Oltia!

　The quality of the thread and the prostitutes who complain about the coolness of Hermes.

　Unusually, Hermes was only serious about her motivation.
　Unbeknownst to her, she had raised her stock enormously.