Old Vampire and a Holy Girl

75 stories. I don't want to talk to my family, but I want to talk to them.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Okay, so stop whispering."

The man had no choice but to transfer his gaze to his family.

I was painting.

Place the palette and brush and just slightly change the orientation of the body.

That's how I turned my gaze from the canvas to the Lord of my gaze.

It's a girl in classic maid clothes.

The girl with that dark hair who hid one eye would only look like a child, only ten years old or there, anyway.

So, if you ask me about that background, everyone will be left alone.

Hobbies are silent.

Stunts are silent.

I'm a little over 500 years old.

The current profession is Maid.

Previous professions used to do bats.

It is a human rattle at some point when his hands come out and his legs come out.

Blah, blah, blah. It's the only secret here that I didn't know her gender until I became a human rat.

- Family.

A being who was divided into blood by vampires and was to enslave them instead of being given strength and life expectancy.

That was the identity of the maid who looked like a silent young girl.

So.

"What's your business, 'it'?

The man asks.

The family had a bump.

Black, shiny, round bumps that would have about a kid's head.

My mouth is shut tightly with paper and hippos, and then there's Talisman or something, and finally, it's so yummy.

Something seems to be sealed.

"So, what happened to those bumps?

…………

The family nods.

And I lifted and unloaded my bumps, left and right.

Apparently, he's talking about bumps due to motion.

Say it with your mouth.

But - this family hates to talk, and what they don't like is to emit audio in the audible range of the other.

Probably because he's a former bat.

Men convince themselves that way...

I also feel like there's something cheating about keeping it completely human to the point, but not making it sound so good with "because it's a former bat".

"Tell him with your mouth."

…………

The family frowned and pointed their lips.

'I don't like it' is conveyed.

It was an eloquent twat.

"Ok, ok. Then write it down and tell it to me, because I have a notebook for an aesthetic on my bed pillow."

"None"

"If you want to slap me for nothing, explain it to me verbally."

……

The family pulled their mouths together cuddly.

She walked around and got a note and an empirical...

"The antiques store I always make deals with wants me to take this bump"

"You're masterful..."

It was a flowing letter.

Moderately disintegrating and even legible.

In a nutshell, it was art.

"I've been waiting for the day I get permission to write, and I've been practicing"

"... I'm sorry about that."

"I've waited 200 years"

"You...!? You were so eager to have a chance to talk to me...!?"

It was only recently that a man tried to treat his family as a single personality.

I can't believe it's a conversation. Even though it didn't even go up to a choice until then.

What a healthy effort.

I dreamed of the time when the struggle would look into the eyes of the day, and spent two hundred years in an unknown effort.

Men are kind of about to cry - tear glands loose because of their age or a little something.

"You...! You! Say that quickly!

"How can you say that?"

"No, you should say that there!? Don't hesitate!

"Boobs."

The family pointed to the entrance side at the same time as they showed the note.

There was a bump there that was left on the floor in an immediate natural motion when the family moved.

"He wants the antiques store to pick it up if he can."

"... hmm... well, that's unusual. I've sold a lot of things from here, but I've never brought them from there - that 'antique shop' is the guy you always use to redeem the contents of your treasure trove, right?

"Yes."

"... I can show it in the neck movement about 'yes' and 'no'. Well - Okay. I can't say anything about not knowing where the bumps came from. Let's talk directly to the antiques store... since when did I talk to a human other than the Virgin..."

My chest is pounding.

Breathing is getting painful, too.

I want to dress up for now, and I want to get my hair done, so I'll need time.

But...

"The antiques store left their bumps behind."

"... So what's the price for those bumps?

"It was free."

……

No matter what I thought, it felt like I was being pushed into trouble.

I still don't trust humans.

"Uh, what, any information or anything about that bump?

"You know, when you unseal it, monsters pop up."

"... Hmm"

"I didn't go after the escaped antiques store, wondering if the Lord would want it if the monster were to pop up"

"Right..."

Whatever you say.

Indeed, the presence that Ningen calls a 'monster' is likely to be a compatriot.

Vampires. Their families.

Dragon. Fairy.

All of them are fantastic species of 'what is not there' treatment in modern times.

But it does exist - it's actually one of the few, but it survives.

However, the fantasy species that once dusted Lumpy are now many in situations where life is usually irresistible.

Men define such beings as' compatriots' and, if they realize it, do things like protective activities.

I'm really not sure how this happened.

I feel like the beginning was the dog the customer brought in.

"Well, anyway, why don't you unseal it"

……

"Why write silence..."

"Sticky"

"... Fair enough. But it is not now that the seal is unsealed. So for once, come to the treasure trove."

"Eh."

"... if it's about a letter, say it with your mouth."

Why?

My family gives me a small neck with no expression.

Men breathe deeply.

"No, now I have to go to painting for an aesthetic test, and then I have to deal with dragons, and fairies come to talk to me about every recent thing, and I'm busy"

……

"So I'm going to unseal him if I have a hippo"

……

"Well, if you say so, I'm not too shy to unwrap the seal now..."

"Stay like this."

My family said it was clear.

From that voice, which was uttered in flesh without relying on the brush talk, I felt a strong willingness to 'stay like this'.

"Or, great, solder. It's better if it's soggy."

"Well, for the convenience of me not being able to go outside, it's all about your work..."

"You were a little..."

"... what's going on suddenly? Look far away."

"Shizuku, shizuku, go back, go back, go back."

"Oh well..."

……

The family nodded forcefully.

Having obtained the means of writing, I felt more weight in her remarks than ever before.

He liked the quiet castle.

The man thinks he's sorry because he's been busy lately.

"Well, that's why, come on."

"Goodbye, one of the bumps..."

The family left the room holding their bumps without expression and skipping.

The man dropped his back off.

"... it's unusual for him to be so clear about his intentions"

I wish I had let you write from the beginning.

And an hour later, I forgot about the bump beautifully.

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