The Show Must Go On 447 min read

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Translator: Aby

Editor: Azeria

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Tears

Trigger warnings: rape, pedophilia, sexual violence, gore, slavery

His childhood was a time when he would do anything to survive.
He was a child from the slums born to a prostitute and an unknown father.
His inherent albinism gave Malacia snow-white skin, hair like silk, and sorrowful scarlet eyes.

It was equivalent to a curse.

By the time he was old enough to understand the world, he had already laid with countless partners.
Dirty men who would shove their penis into him, thrust their hips and roar as they cum.
Malacia, used continuously like a sex doll, didn’t even understand what was happening to him.

When Malacia was five, his mother sold him in exchange for a bag full of gold coins, and he never saw her again.
The place Malacia was sold to was a certain countryside noble’s manor. Night after night, at the secret pleasure club held in the basement, Malacia was taught to act according to the members’ wishes and learned to please his partners by feigning pleasure. The men who were addicted to Malacia’s alluring body, gradually started to fight over the right to own him.
After several years of that life, one night a man came to visit the cage where Malacia slept.

This man was a doctor and he, even amongst the members of the pleasure club, was especially fixated on Malacia.

“Ah, my beloved Malacia… Before you mature into an adult. Before you’re defiled by some lowly woman… I shall grant you eternal boyhood.”

The man whispered in a trance, a well-maintained scalpel in one hand.
He held Malacia down, and sliced his scalpel across Malacia’s prepubescent genitals that had not even ejaculated for the first time.
Malacia’s scream echoed throughout the mansion, and though the insane nobleman was captured quickly, the injuries to Malacia’s body were severe. He was carried to the hospital in a rush, but his genitals were almost entirely severed. With the amount of blood that was lost, the doctors ruled that saving his life would be impossible.

However, ironically.
This near-death situation awakened the dormant healing ability within Malacia.

Having witnessed his ability to heal himself, even while unconscious, the doctors decided not to return Malacia to the rotten nobles. Instead, they arranged to have him sent to the Shrine’s orphanage.

There, the growing Malacia insatiably threw himself into studying. The financial aid sent to the church however wasn’t enough, the children often went hungry and the hand-me-downs they wore were in tatters. The number of children, after turning fifteen, who threw themselves into slavery or turned to prostitution was a much larger number than those who managed to find jobs.

Malacia, who grew increasingly more beautiful as he aged, quickly attracted the attention of the nobles that visited the Shrine. When requested to exchange sexual favors for financial assistance to the orphanage, Malacia unhesitantly offered himself up.

His supple abdomen, well-proportioned androgynous face, and when stripped naked his perverse genderless-looking, pale limbs were revealed.
Beneath the body of the aroused nobles, Malacia never forgot to feign his pleasure, spreading his legs and moaning seductively.

“…Nn.”

That was why he didn’t know.
Not once had anyone requested his “heart” over his body.
He didn’t know what giving his heart meant.

“Lutora…?”

Drop by drop.
Warm droplets dripped onto Malacia’s face, who was on his back.

He was to show the children about to be sold into sexual slavery, the pleasure of being held by men, to ease their fear. Malacia’s job was to instill that by sleeping with the slaves prepared by Demetesca. Demetesca himself, as well as the muscular slaves, were all originally orphans from the Shrine’s orphanage. Consequently, they surely had their own opinions on Malacia, who rose to the position of Head Priest under Anderheim’s protection.
However, that had nothing to do with Malacia.
All he had to do was accept the men inside him and satisfy them.

Deliberately coming to save Malacia, who held such thoughts, was Lutora, bursting into the tent.

The Knight Captain’s son.
A nobleman of high status.
Born and raised completely different from him, a young master blessed in every way.

He had planned to seduce and play with Lutora, who had been temporarily entrusted to the Shrine, while ensnaring him in their scheme.
As he purposely approached Lutora with vulnerable mannerisms, the young man, innocent despite his physique, was quickly led around by Malacia’s actions.

Although he had been looking forward to Lutora revealing his true self one day.
Although he had thought to witness for himself how this man would pant above him.
Not once had Lutora tried to violate Malacia’s body.
Sleeping together on the same bed, the warmth of the hand that held him close through the sheets, endeavored to tell Malacia “something” he had never experienced.

His instincts told him it was dreadful.
His heart feared it, not wanting to know.

If he was seen pleasuring men, surely Lutora would leave his side.
That was why, when Demetesca approached him beforehand about “work” after spectating the circus, Malacia accepted without pause.
According to plan, Lutora learned that Malalcia was still having sex with men, even now that he was Head Priest.

Now, all he had to do was distance himself.
While entrusting his body to the men who wanted to ravish him. In order to chase away the petrified Lutora, the words he should have said were.

“Don’t watch… any more than this.”

An emotion he himself did not understand.
Was woven through his wavering voice, shaking like leaves in the wind.

“…u, ku. Hic…”

A sob Lutora couldn’t control escaped his throat, as tears fell.

He kicked the slaves about to have sex with Malacia off the bed.
Lutora, who proclaimed to Demetesca that he would be the example, and have sex with Malacia in front of the youths.
He pinned Malacia under his legs, and ripped off the Dalmatic Malacia was wearing.

Then, he saw.

Robbed of reproductive function, engraved with a large scar, Malacia’s groin that was only a gentle bulge.
A soft body that was used only to satisfy other men’s sexual urges.

“…You don’t have to push yourself. Lutora.”

Malacia softly whispered to the speechless Lutora, who had frozen above him.
This “processed” body strongly aroused wicked emotions in men, but depending on the person, the opposite would also happen.
As Malacia looked up, large teardrops rolled off Lutora’s face and fell on top of his cheeks.

“Lutora…?”
“…Why…”
“…?”
“Why didn’t I…!”

The Lutora who deeply loved Malacia.
Simply for survival’s sake, the daily routine imposed upon Malacia. The days he had to continue being exposed to obscene lust. He deeply felt it in his heart.

“Why…didn’t I…earlier…Why didn’t I meet you earlier…!”

At Lutora’s inconceivable wail.
Malacia was at a loss for words.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, Malacia. I’m sorry…Please forgive me.”
“Lutora…”
“I’ll treasure you. I’ll never let you go. I won’t let other men touch you ever again.”

Just why did Lutora have to apologize?
Why was he seeking forgiveness?
The confused Malacia couldn’t understand.

“Lutora, it’s not your fault.”
“You’re wrong… You’re wrong, Malacia. It’s my fault. It’s my fault for not meeting you earlier.”
“…What are you saying? That’s not possibly your–”
“It’s fine… It’s okay to let it be my fault. Malacia.”

He gripped Malacia’s hand that had reached out to touch Lutora’s face.
On those fingers, those fingertips.
He attentively dropped kisses on them, one by one.

“Hey, blame me… Say that I have to take responsibility, Malacia.”
“Lutora…?”
“And I will…”

With tears drying on his face, Lutora smiled at Malacia.
He removed his clothes, his armor, and tossed them aside.
The white magic stone that had been in his jacket’s breast pocket, rolled out from the gap between the fabric, releasing a small light.

“…For life. I’ll be yours, Malacia.”

For the first time, he placed his lips over the wide-eyed Malacia’s lips.
Lutora then slowly pushed his beloved’s body onto the bed.


Hasr: Next chapter, our lil’ puppy graduates to a wolf!

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