Suzuki is Cute Even In A Savage World

…Suddenly, a pleasant aroma wafted through the nostrils of Duma, who has no sensory receptors of smell. It was a fondly remembered, nostalgic, warm aroma of corn cereal soup. Elmer was sitting at the dining table, nibbling on a piece of bread.

And in front of Duma's eyes was the same cereal soup and bread.

(W-What an idiot! Dolls, c-can't even eat.)

After Elmer had finished his meal, he approached Duma.

"Duma looks so cute today too."

(So u-unpleasant! As if a d-doll's face could fickle change so easily!)

However, there was the possibility that the doll might deteriorate and become old. In fact, Duma's skin was not the same white wax surface as it was then, but rather a series of patchwork surfaces.

While thinking about this, Duma suddenly realized that Elmer was stroking her head.

(S-Stop! This idiot!)

She was seized by a queasy feeling in her chest and got upset. While having no way of knowing how Duma was feeling, Elmer smiled at her and said.

"Duma. You are my chef d'oeuvre."

(AHH… A…)

She wondered why. Her chest was burning. Her body was burning. When she looked at Elmer, she felt as if something was welling up from inside her chest.

(Ah–…)

Suddenly, Elmer raised his voice hysterically. He knocked the plate of corn soup with his arm and dropped it.

"Gashan!"

The sound of pottery shattering into pieces when it fell on the floor could be heard. At that moment, the scenery changed once again.

"Please stop!! This doll is my CHEF D'OEUVRE!!" fгeewebnovёl.com

The same words that she had just heard came into Duma's ears.

(A-A continuation of that scene…)

A complete reversal from the peaceful dining scene she had just witnessed. Duma caught a second glimpse of the robbery assault scene once again.

In front of Elmer, who was tied to a chair with a rope, the robber tore off Duma's dress and laughed at the sight of the doll's body.

"What are you calling your CHEF D'OEUVRE! You gotta make her look perfectly womanly even under her clothes, man. She has no— tits—!"

"Hihihi. This isn't going to help you quench your thirst at night, is it?"

"Stop… Please stop…!"

Elmer was crying. Elmer was sobbing pitifully as if his daughter was being disgraced in front of him by those ruffians. Elmer's sobbing seemed to have ignited the thieves' sadistic tendencies.

"Let's swap out the arms and legs!"

"Let's rip it to pieces!"

"P-Please!! Please don't destroy it, anything but this doll!! The soul of my dead lover still remains in Duma!!"

"Are you, stupid? What are you saying about a MERE doll?"

A man with slanted eyes twisted the joint of Duma's right arm. With a "gokiri" dull sound, Duma's right arm came off.

(Th-This son of a bitch…!)

Within Duma, an unparalleled rage rose, but contrary to her intentions, her body did not even twitch.

"Next, let's go for its left leg."

"Stop…! I'm begging you…! Please stop…!"

Elmer cried out in tears. The bald leader of the thieves looked disgusted, saying, "Don't be— dicks—," but he didn't seem particularly interested in stopping them.

Elmer swung his body while still being tied up. Elmer struggled so violently that the chair toppled over, and his face kissed the floor while weeping. Seeing this, the robbers laughed even harder.

"S-Someone… help… someone…"

"Hyahaha! 'God, help—' was it!"

"Hey, Boss. You, you wanna be a priest in the future, right? Won't you listen to him?"

"No, like I said. You guys, instead of doing something like that, go look for anything worth something."

However—

"Help… Lord Hartline…!"

When he heard Elmer say something that could neither be a prayer nor a murmur, his eyebrows rose, and he glared at the fallen man.

"…HEY. You scum, what did you just say?"

The robbers, who had been joking around until then, suddenly became all tense at once due to the leader's change of attitude.

"You scum, you said Hartline, didn't you? You said it, right? Motherducker."

The leader slowly walked up to the fallen Elmer. The robbers shrugged their shoulders.

"Ah-ha. He snapped."

"In front of our boss, you can't say that name."

The previously tame leader had changed, and with bloodshot eyes, he kicked Elmer in the stomach.

"Hartline, the champion!? Are you a fucking moron, scum!? There's no f-ing— way, he would BE— here, scum."

Elmer was kicked again and again. The heavy sound of the foot reaching his internal organs continued unceasingly.

(S-Stop…! Elmer… D-Don't kick him…!)

It was strange. Before she noticed, Duma felt that every kick that landed on Elmer felt the same way as she herself was being kicked.

(S-Stop… Stop…! Stop it… Stop it…)

Before long, inside of Duma's head. A voice repeated, becoming high-pitched and childish.