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This section contains plot details about the game.
She knew that the way she expressed her love towards men was different.
She loved to see men cry. Nothing stirred her like seeing their desperate, choked sobs. She couldn't fight her desire to make the people she loved suffer. Such was her nature.
Powerful men, men of authority were the ones she liked the best. It truly moved her to see the change between the normal, public faces of these men, and the way their faces looked twisted with agony.
She loved to ride the backs of men crawling on the ground, and lashed at their backsides with her whip. Their cries of pain made her shiver with pleasure. She wanted, needed, to completely dominate the men she liked.
She knew just what men disliked, and she knew just how to please them. She made sport of men's hearts through the judicious use of these carrots and sticks.
She'd trawl the taverns for men. They were always such an easy catch. All she had to do was show a little flesh, and most of the time, they'd come to her,
The rabbit ears that she put on as a mischievous little joke were a surprising success. with her looks and a cheeky wink, she'd attract dirty leers from all the lecherous layabouts.
These who associated with her would soon be trapped. She'd "educate" men with her honeyed words, and they'd soon be under her thumbs. She'd live off the money of several men at once, something of a charmed life. She was soon infamous as " the rabbit-eared witch".
One day, a nobleman approached the rabbit-eared woman. they rapidly became close.
She'd always been like that with the man in her past. And as soon as their relationship moved into territory approaching love, she'd show her true colors.
She started to abuse the man. It started with words. " You slow-witted oaf. You're no better than a turtle."
Yet somehow, the nobleman would just smile. "So the rumors were true, then." He was pleased - she was just the woman he was looking for.
The man came clean: he was tired of being a leader. Such was the burden of the nobility. He could never let anyone see his weakness, and if he let his stoic act slip even once, he;d be forced into the gutter.
Sometimes he just wanted to throw away his mask and reveal how pathetic he truly was. He must have wanted to feel what it was like to lay down his burden, even if it were for only a moment.
Sometimes he wanted to be the one taking orders. He could never rely on others, and wanted to feel what it was like, even if it were just pretend. He'd developed a pet theory: that by experiencing what it was like for the others, he'd be able to maintain his heart's balance.
The noblemen begged the rabbit-eared woman to punish him even more.
And so she did, in all kinds of ways. And he would always beg her for more.
Using the money she'd taken from him, she created a range of tools and props. The shell was the one that the nobleman loved the most. She'd make him wear a custom-made, weighty shell and have him crawl around on the floor, cackling at the sight of him struggling even to relieve himself.
She'd sit on his shell and hurl abuse at him. " Pathetic turtle. You're the dullest, slowest of them all." And how he would shiver with delight.
The weakness the man showed may have been hard to understand, but it was a truly human and delicate thing. the woman felt that she was the only one who could soothe his pain. The more that she thought this, the deeper her affection for him became. She truly loved him then.
When the man showed his weakness with his demands for abuse, she was all too willing grant his desire. She felt like his dependence on her would soothe her own pain, somehow.
She had a faint inkling of why she made men suffer. It was the reverse of the nobleman's desire, in fact. Women are weak creatures who simply cannot stand up to men, she thought. She felt like she knew this better than anyone - her own mother had suffered greatly through abuse from her father.
The things she saw as a child would not vanish from her memory with time. She was afraid that she would end up like her mother.
To wipe clean these bitter memories of her mother and father from her mind, she tried to dominate men. even if it were only pretend.
She racked her brains for ways to abuse him. at one point, she tried to avoid actively abusing him at all, and abandoned him instead. As she ignored him, a pained expression crossed his face. It was the finest face of his she'd seen. That seemed to be the most effective form of abuse.
Strangely, the more she trained and dominated the man, the more powerful he grew in his daily life. In the day, he would be a leader; at night, the woman would sit upon his back.
Perhaps that was how the man found balance. He continued to make his way up in the world, and as he did so, his demands of the woman increased in turn. He asked her to escalate her domination.
Yet the woman could not think of any more new ways to abuse him.
Still , this man who could only confide in his weakness to her was so unbearably charming that she could not refuse. The desire to grant his request bubbled deep within her mind.
As if summoned by this wish, a peculiar scene unfurled before her.
It was a white Chalice hanging in the very air before her, and it seemed to speak directly into her mind.
" I can grant you your desire. You need only pay the price."
Without hesitation, she spoke of her desire. She wanted the nobleman to feel utter despair - as proof of her domination over him.
The nobleman needed her desperately. It was clear and simple how to make him suffer the most. Who would not suffer at the loss of a loved one?
Yes, she had thought of the ultimate form of abandonment.
She died right before his very eyes, telling him with her final words that she had no attachment to the world, nor would she miss him.
The man witnessed the loss of his lover. He could not tear his eyes away. Never would he forget her. He was haunted by her memory until the day he died.
That was the curse with which she enthralled him. To make him suffer, she would appear before him as a phantom. Perhaps that was her greatest wish. She had gained complete control of him, including his life itself.
Yet that was not all. To prolong his suffering, eternally if she could, she transformed him into a real turtle, she had heard that turtles lived longer than men.
They say that to this day, the man can still hear the voice of the woman abusing him.
" Pathetic turtle. You're the dullest, slowest of them all."
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