[Two Pack Strawberry Cream Daifuku]

[Active Skill: Collective Harem Outrage]: When Liam takes damage, Midnight’s high-pitched ["Master Was Hurt!"] scream from the shadows inflicts a 100% Reality Snip. The boss freezes in pure, cringey existential shame at the raw secondhand embarrassment. Instantly, the strawberry link clones Liam’s next swing with the exact volumetric weight of Midnight’s bouncy D-cup matrix, dealing 2,000% True Physics Damage that flattens the boss into the floorboards and permanently shatters their ability to make eye contact.

[Congratulations on finishing on the side by midnight. You have earned a new recipe.]

[For Full-Volume Internal Finish: Stuffed Vanilla Custard Bun.]

[Biological Seed Artillery]: For 24 hours after Liam completes a full-volume finish inside Midnight, her tiny dragon beast form gains a long-range projectile attack called [Sticky Custard Cannon]. She can spit high-velocity globes of hot, white vanilla sealant that permanently glue enemy bosses to the terrain.

His mouth twitched. Then again. Then his chest shook with a low, rumbling laugh he tried and failed to suppress. He dragged a hand over his face, the albino white of his hair falling across his knuckles. Stuffed Vanilla Custard Bun. The game was trolling him. The game was absolutely, unequivocally trolling him.

The carriage driver’s eyes widened as Liam casually recounted his new recipes to Midnight, his white tail flicking with each ingredient he listed.

"Rose Petal Mochi," Liam said, completely ignoring the chaos around him. "Two Pack Strawberry Cream Daifuku. That one is strong , really good for bosses, and one more Stuffed Vanilla Custard Bun. That speaks for itself."

Midnight chuffed happily from his shoulder, her small form vibrating with contentment. She didn’t seem to care about the recipes, just the sound of his voice, as a dragon, she just saw Liam as one of her treasures that was now her pride and joy.

"That’s... nice," Elizabeth muttered, pressed against his side in the cramped carriage. Her pink ears twitched nervously as she tried to maintain her balance as the carriage lurched forward.

Liam glanced down at Midnight. "You should probably get dressed before we reach the city. The townspeople might stare."

Midnight just blinked at him, clearly having no intention of moving from her comfortable perch.

The carriage driver, a weathered zebra with grey-streaked fur, watched them through the rear-view mirror, his expression a perfect blend of confusion and resignation. His eyes darted between Liam’s oblivious demeanour and the various women crowding around him.

"Kids these days," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he guided the lizards onto the main road.

The carriage was an awkward collection of bodies and personalities. Berry sat across from Liam, her tiger ears perked up attentively, orange eyes fixed on him despite her attempts to appear casual. Noir, her silent shadow, observed everything with calculating eyes.

Rogue sat rigidly in the corner, Mirra practically draped across him like a human blanket. One of her legs had found its way over his lap, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest armour. Rogue’s face remained stoic, but his ears had gone completely flat against his head, the equivalent of a deer caught in headlights.

The fridge sat quietly in the opposite corner.

"Could you maybe..." Elizabeth started, her voice strained as the carriage hit a bump, causing her to grip Liam’s arm tighter. "Scoot over a bit?"

Liam nodded and shifted, which only resulted in Elizabeth being pressed even more firmly against him. Her face flushed pink to match her hair.

"I meant the other way," she hissed, but made no actual move to create distance.

The carriage hit another bump, and Mirra used it as an excuse to slide further onto Rogue’s lap. His eyes widened slightly—the first real crack in his composed facade.

"Mirra," he said quietly. "This isn’t necessary."

"Isn’t it, though?" she purred, the words curling at their edges like smoke from a low fire. Her tail wound around his wrist in a slow, deliberate spiral, the tip settling against his pulse point with what could only be described as intent. "I’m just getting comfortable."

Midnight stretched on Liam’s shoulder, completely unconcerned with the tension filling the carriage. She yawned, displaying tiny fangs, before settling back down with a contented sigh.

"We should reach the outer gates in about twenty minutes," the driver called back, his voice carrying the particular resignation of a man who had accepted that he would never fully understand the world but had decided to keep driving through it regardless. "Try not to... whatever it is you’re doing back there."

Midnight stirred on Liam’s shoulder, arching her back in a lazy, self-satisfied stretch that threatened to knock his hood off. She blinked sleepily at the city ahead, then gave a small, approving chirp and curled up tighter, unconcerned by the looming fortifications and the armed personnel. She trusted Liam, and the simple, absolute faith of her tiny dragon brain radiated out into the group, dulling the edge of the unknown.

Liam checked his system HUD. He had maybe 20 notifications on his live-streaming feed ’Man, I haven’t streamed much recently, not since that raid. It should probably start streaming when we get there.’

[TOOL TIP]:

Status: Carriage Occupancy: Critical

The "Nice" Elizabeth Gridlock: Elizabeth, attempting to demand spatial relocation while actively cementing her entire body against Liam’s flank, has introduced a [Flushed warrior Paradox] to the vehicle. The system notes her pink ears are currently acting as an involuntary compass pointing directly toward his chest.

The Zebra Driver’s Sanity Drain: The weathered zebra conductor, utilising his rear-view mirror to process a hulking albino chef casually listing off high-tier [Sticky Custard Cannon] statistics to an unclad, shoulder-dwelling dragon, has permanently lowered his retirement age. His request to "stop doing whatever it is you’re doing" was automatically logged by the system as an unheeded plea.

The Rogue Structural Freeze: Rogue transforming into a literal, immovable block of granite while Mirra treats his thigh armour as high-end lounge real estate has locked in the [Deer in Headlights] penalty.

The Stream-Ready Custard Audit: Liam is preparing to reactivate his live-streaming feed, while his inventory contains multiple recipes spawned entirely by deep-tissue tent friction, which is an illegal broadcast hazard. The system warns that if his audience witnesses Midnight executing the [Collective Harem Outrage] chest-slap on a city guard, the server will be taken offline for administrative review.