Circe actually wanted to go into the city to check things out, what the hell?
The pink plague didn't distinguish friend from foe.
Although Circe herself was a sorceress and wouldn't be rendered helpless in the same way as the Greek heroes, even the careful could be struck down by carelessness.
If he ruined Circe over something this ridiculous, Alaric decided he would regret it for the rest of his life.
"Um… maybe we shouldn't," Alaric, with a guilty conscience, tried to dissuade her. "Let's just wait a bit longer. They'll come back when they come back."
"But I can't stand it anymore!" Circe snapped irritably. "We've already been here six days. They're wasting our time."
Suddenly she looked at Alaric suspiciously. "You don't happen to know something, do you? Otherwise why won't you let me go check?"
This little girl was pretty sharp.
There was no way Alaric was going to admit anything now.
"How would I know?" Alaric put on a baffled expression.
"I just think it's better to let things take their course. They're adults and should be able to handle themselves… But if you really want to go, fine, go ahead, I won't stop you."
At worst I'll tail you secretly, I'm not afraid of anything happening.
Seeing Alaric consent, Circe's suspicion didn't entirely vanish, but her expression eased and she turned to Atalanta.
"How about it, Ta-miao, wanna come with me?"
"Don't call me Ta-miao," Atalanta frowned at the nickname but still nodded. "Fine, let's go together."
That answer struck Alaric as particularly odd.
When did these two become so friendly? Circe actually invited Atalanta, and Atalanta agreed.
The past few days they'd been bickering like cat and hawk, utterly incompatible, yet now they were suddenly on good terms.
Was it one of those "bantering friends" relationships men had?
Alaric couldn't make sense of it, but he used the Ultimate Invisibility Spell to hide himself and follow the two of them into the city of Lemnos.
Then they saw the pink scene with their own eyes.
"W-what the, ! These men," Circe blurted at one glance, suddenly covering her face and blushing as she turned away.
"H-how could they, right out on the street, with so many people, it's too much!"
Atalanta snorted and turned away sharply as well.
The pink aura suffused the city.
Noticing the few uninfected people, men surrounded by women on the street struggled loose from four or five women clinging to them, stood up, and ran toward Circe and Atalanta.
Under the influence of the plague, their priority was the uninfected opposite sex.
But in the next moment they were swamped by more women, and the crisis evaporated as if it had never been.
Only when Circe and Atalanta stormed angrily out of the city did Alaric finally exhale.
Luckily the city's gender ratio wasn't balanced, otherwise the two of them might not have escaped so easily.
Back aboard the Argo, Alaric had already returned ahead of them and pretended he'd never left. When the pair came back he put on a curious face and asked,
"So? Did you see what the city was like?"
"Don't even mention it," Circe said, indignant.
"Those women must've been bewitched by those filthy men. Out on the street… just… ugh, it was disgusting. Why do we have to work with such disgusting people?"
"Heh," Alaric smiled wryly. "After losing their husbands for so long, I guess the women here are desperate. One day, Circe, you'll understand."
"I don't want to understand them," Circe spat, full of contempt for the women of this city. She suddenly turned to Alaric; her expression shifted.
"Old man, you're not secretly jealous of those poor bastards, are you?"
"No way," Alaric waved his hands. "You don't know how high my standards are. With someone at your teacher's level around, who'd want to go into that city?"
"True enough," Circe agreed and nodded, then suddenly grew flirtatious. "In that case, want me to reward you?"
"No, no," Alaric waved her off. "I don't want your teacher complaining about me."
"Come on, come on. After seeing them just now I'm a little curious," Circe said, sliding her body up against Alaric's.
But the moment their skin touched, Circe cried out like a startled kitten.
"Ugh… how… how is this possible."
With that kittenish exclamation, Circe's body went soft and she leaned completely against Alaric.
Alaric thought she was teasing him as usual and tried to push her away, but when he did he realized Circe wasn't herself.
Her body was as soft as cotton; at the slightest touch she let out a tiny moan.
What was going on?
Turning to look at the girl, Alaric noticed her once-pale skin had flushed an intimate pink, and her irised eyes stared at him as if about to overflow.
He could even feel her subtly rubbing the parts where their bodies touched, and with each faint moan she seemed to relish it.
Alaric touched her face, it wasn't very hot, but Circe, enjoying the caress, started nuzzling his hand.
Looking further, the area between her legs was already damp.
Could it be… the pink plague?
Thinking that, Alaric glanced at Atalanta.
Ta-miao now resembled a heat-struck she-cat, purring faintly and flopping onto him.
So that was it.
Alaric's head ached. He'd assumed the plague required special actions to transmit, but how had these two become like this simply from a trip to the outskirts of the city?
On reflection, he'd underestimated Aphrodite's power.
Fortunately, because they hadn't been directly infected by the full pink plague, Circe and Atalanta hadn't gone completely mad like the people in the city.
But looking at them now, it was close.
Inevitably, simple rubbing no longer satisfied the two little she-cats.
They began to crave further contact with Alaric.
At this point, Alaric, no paragon of virtue himself, didn't bother resisting.
If you're going to do it, do it properly: let the three of them take their relationship a step further.
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