Demon Wolf Reincarnation ~A Perverted Licking Freak Licks the Other World All Over~
One day, in the great court of the heavens, a supreme god calls forth a defendant. The man's name is Shota—a colossal pervert whose greatest joy in life is licking people. 'You are seriously disgusting!' declares the god, sending Shota to another world as punishment. But it's no ordinary banishment. He is reincarnated as a 'Garm,' a gigantic demon wolf with a terrifying appearance.
The god's logic is simple: with such a scary look, humans will either flee or try to kill him on sight. No way he
Demon Wolf Reincarnation ~A Perverted Licking Freak Licks the Other World All Over~ - Everything solved with a lick! —The Saliva Revolution and a Humiliating Cure
A white light consumed everything.
Regulus Vahn's purification magic, "Baptism of the Aurora," unleashed with every ounce of his mana, illuminated the central plaza of the Nebrica Free City as if it were high noon. The torrent of light roared, shaking the air, exposing every last weed sprouting from the cracks in the cobblestones.
The fleeing crowd's feet stopped in their tracks.
"W-What is this light...?!"
"My eyes, I'm going blind...!"
The knights of the Clinaden Order, shielding their faces with their shields, felt a definite sense of finality in their hearts. This was their commander's finishing move. It was over. That filthy, saliva-drenched demon wolf would be obliterated this time for sure.
Regulus clenched his outstretched hands. His white gloves shimmered with rainbow hues, reflecting the purifying light. His gray eyes were wide open, as if in a fever.
"Vanish. Unclean one."
A single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. This was his full power. Literally a blow into which he had poured every last drop of his magical energy. Even the traces of saliva Perolil had scattered across this plaza would be purified down to the last molecule—
Or so it should have been.
The light slowly cleared.
As the crowd regained their vision, the sound of their collective gasp rippled through the plaza like a wave.
He was there.
The five-meter-tall jet-black giant wolf stood nonchalantly on all fours, as if nothing had happened. The remnants of the white light clung to his fluffy fur, sparkling like morning dew, but there wasn't a single burn. If anything, his fluffy coat seemed to shine more than usual.
"Pwaaah! That was a great bath! I'm warm right down to my core! Thanks, Regulus!"
The color drained from Regulus's face.
"I-Impossible... This can't be...!"
His right hand unconsciously moved to straighten the wrinkles on his left glove. But his fingers trembled, failing to do so.
Perolil's golden eyes blazed brightly.
The anger of being locked in a dungeon for a day. And the urge to lick the prey before him, an impulse that pierced his entire body. The moment those two merged, his giant frame unleashed the mobility inherent to an S-rank dangerous species.
BOOM!!
The sound of him kicking off the ground was like an explosion.
Perolil closed the distance to Regulus in an instant. A lightning-fast charge unbefitting his massive size. Before Regulus could even scream, his chest—or rather, his chest hair—was seized by the giant paw's massive pad—
"Gotcha!"
Thud.
Regulus was pinned to the ground.
Under the foreleg of the five-meter giant wolf, the 185-centimeter knight commander was pinned like a child. The squishy pink pad made his polished silver armor creak and groan.
Perolil's face was mere tens of centimeters from Regulus's. His golden eyes looked down at him with the innocent glee of a child eyeing its prey. A single strand of clear saliva dangled from the corner of his mouth.
"L-Let go... Let go of meeee!!"
For the first time, Regulus tasted true terror. He had no time to draw his sword. In fact, both his arms were pinned under the giant body, unable to move a single finger. The fact that he, a mysophobe, was being rubbed against the cobblestone street and bearing the full weight of a saliva-drenched beast—that fact shattered his dignity more than anything else.
"Alright, you've got some nerve locking me up! Your skin is super rough. Poor thing. I'm gonna make it thoroughly smooth for you!"
Perolil slowly brought his face closer, as if savoring the moment.
"Stop, please stop...!"
Sluuuurp...
The giant tongue licked from Regulus's chin to his forehead in one go. A floral fragrance filled the plaza air. The saliva was surprisingly warm, and thickly viscous.
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
Regulus's scream echoed through the plaza. But Perolil didn't stop. This time, he meticulously, painstakingly continued licking his cheek with his giant tongue, as if painting over a canvas. He licked the bridge of his nose, his temples, between his eyebrows, and then back down to his chin.
It was persistent, like an assembly line, yet somehow moved with the precision of a craftsman.
About thirty seconds.
To Regulus, it felt like an eternity.
The surrounding crowd initially screamed at this unbelievable sight. But then—someone chuckled.
"What is that... The knight commander is getting... done..."
"But, somehow... it just looks like a doggy licking a face?"
The fear gradually turned to bewilderment, and eventually into a strange murmur. A mysophobic man pinned to the ground, having his face licked all over by a giant fluffy wolf. The sheer surrealism of the situation transformed terror into absurdity.
"Alright! Perfect! Smooth as can be!"
As Perolil released his foreleg with satisfaction, Regulus scrambled to his feet.
His face was flushed.
And not just from humiliation.
"Ah..."
His fingertips, unconsciously touching his own cheek, slipped smoothly. The skin that had been rough and desert-like from years of field battles and harsh training—was impossibly smooth. Even from a distance, it was clear that his entire face had gained a luster and firmness.
Regulus was speechless.
The subordinates of the Clinaden Order also exchanged glances. Their skin, too, having been licked or splashed with saliva during the earlier battle, was clearly smoother. One of them fearfully removed his helmet.
"My pimples... are gone."
"M-My body feels lighter... My usual stiff shoulders are gone."
A strange silence fell over the plaza.
Everyone stood frozen, unable to process the reality before them. A blank space of time, neither terror nor joy.
That silence was broken by the sound of elegant applause.
Clap, clap, clap.
"Wonderful. Now, it should be clear for all to see."
Stepping forward before the crowd, her glossy, short reddish-purple hair swaying, was Felicia Miele. Her amber eyes quietly held the light of intellect and desire. Her crimson dress was spotless, and her mere presence commanded the surrounding atmosphere.
Behind her, two attendants carried thick bundles of documents.
"Everyone, let us calmly organize what has just occurred here."
Felicia looked around the plaza like the lead actress on a stage.
"First, the facts. The skin of the Clinaden Order knights has clearly become healthier. The change in Commander Regulus's own face is evident even from afar. And—this."
At the snap of her fingers, her attendants unfurled the bundles of parchment. These were testimonial documents from people who had been "victimized" by Perolil over the past month. The Miele Trading Company had been secretly collecting them.
"These are the medical records of everyone who filed a damage report. Astonishingly, all of them have become healthier. Those whose chronic headaches vanished. Those whose joint pain subsided. Those whose eyesight recovered. Those whose skin diseases were completely cured. As far as reported, zero side effects. The effects last approximately three days. In what way is this a 'vermin'?"
The crowd buzzed.
"Sophistry! That is filth itself—"
"Oh my, Commander Regulus."
Felicia cut off Regulus's words. A perfect business smile graced her lips.
"You just touched your own face, didn't you? What has become of your rough skin? Please, be honest and tell everyone here."
"...Th-That is..."
Regulus couldn't retort.
"This is a walking medical revolution."
Felicia declared to the crowd.
"The Miele Trading Company officially holds the rights to research and utilize the effects of the 'Grace of Holy Licking' contained in the saliva of this Garum specimen—Perolil. This has already been filed with the Merchant Council of the Nebrica Free City. In other words, there is no longer any legal basis anywhere to officially label him a 'vermin'."
It was a perfect about-face.
The woman who had been dismissed as "trivial" by Perolil the night before had executed a completely different plan in just half a day. By securing the legal rights first and declaring it in a public forum, she had created a fait accompli that no one could oppose.
Applause began to erupt from the crowd here and there.
"Yeah! This wolf isn't a bad guy!"
"I got licked earlier, but my blemishes are fading...!"
The atmosphere was no longer one where Perolil could be called a vermin. Regulus could only stand there, rooted to the spot. His subordinates were also sheathing their swords. Their will to fight had completely vanished.
Regulus turned his back.
He had lost. In everything.
"...We're pulling out."
His voice, filled with as much bravado as he could muster, was hoarse. He turned his back to his subordinates and began walking towards the plaza exit. His gait lacked even a shred of the confidence and discipline he had arrived with.
—It was then.
He noticed that the sleeve of his left arm was rolled up. It must have torn when Perolil pinned him down.
Regulus stared at his left arm as if seeing it for the first time.
It was there.
The skin disease of unclean origin that he had long suffered from, the same illness as his sister. The hard, rough skin he had hidden with gloves, never showing anyone—had vanished as if it were a lie. There was only smooth, healthy skin.
He stopped moving.
For a few seconds.
He stared intently at that arm. He fearfully touched it with his fingertips. It was warm. It didn't hurt. It wasn't rough.
His gray eyes wavered slightly.
Within them swirled a torrent of complex emotions: hatred, a gratitude that couldn't quite become gratitude, regret, and the thought that if it could be healed this way, maybe he should have brought his sister. A muddy stream of feelings.
But in the end, he said nothing.
Regulus Vahn, his mouth set in a firm line, turned his back and walked away. It was clear to anyone watching his retreating figure that he could no longer condemn Perolil as "evil" from the bottom of his heart.
The Clinaden Order withdrew from the plaza without a sound.
In the plaza after the commotion had ended, Miriru sat slumped on the cobblestones.
Her hood was thrown back, her long silver hair spreading across the ground as if exhausted. Her emerald green eyes stared vacantly at the darkening sky.
(What is with today...)
She reflected on what she had done today.
Spending the time in the dungeon practicing remote control of saliva. Using all her magic at the execution platform to melt the restraints and disrupt the execution. Mingling with the crowd to escape, running around the plaza with Perolil.
(I... my body moved on its own for Perolil's sake.)
"Since when... did I start thinking of such a being as my partner...?"
She held her head and hung it low. An elf who valued cleanliness above all else, the partner of a perverted demon wolf? No one in the Selvahn Tree Duchy would believe it, no matter who she told.
"Hey, Miriru! We escaped thanks to you! You're the best!"
The giant body lumbered over. His fluffy tail wagged happily.
"As a reward, I'll lick you all over now too!"
"Absolutely not!!!"
Miriru kicked off the ground, stood up, and delivered a full-force kick to Perolil's snout.
Thwack.
"Ouch."
Perolil pressed his nose with his foreleg, but didn't seem to be in much pain. Miriru's face was slightly flushed—for reasons not solely due to anger.
(...But, my gratitude was conveyed, just a little.)
Though she didn't want to admit it. It was his best attempt at a "thank you."
Miriru looked away.
"If you do that again, I'll kick that nose even harder."
"Hehe, scary! Well then, I'll have to think of an even better reward next time!"
"Fundamentally re-evaluate your concept of a reward!"
The air between them lightened, just a little.
Perolil declared loudly to the twilight sky.
"Alright! I want to lick even more different races! Next is beastmen, or dwarves! I'm gonna conquer every species!"
And then, he lightly lifted Miriru, who was still sitting, by the scruff of her neck with his foreleg. Not roughly, but with th
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