Editing Hentai Ouji to Warawanai Neko:Volume 1 Chapter 1

If there is a swimsuit style popularity contest, what will be the most fitting for number 1?

Has anyone ever slightly pondered about this eternal dilemma of humanity? On a side note, I ponder over this every day.

There are humans with vulgar thoughts, thinking that the bikinis, filled with a sense of liberation, are ranked first. There are also people who think, hold on; those one-piece type swimsuits mixed with pure fantasy are the best of them all.

Actually, my burdens are more complicated than this.

I can’t forget about the third force—racing swimsuits.

To those who find that style boring and give sneering looks, I really hope that they check out the girls swimming club activity immediately. It will let them understand that racing swimsuits are magical outfits. However, let me say this first, it is not my responsibility if someone suddenly barges into the swimming pool, trying to understand the magic, yells to be let in, and end up having all sorts of obstacles in life.

Then, how can I observe the swimming club?

Very simple.

My high school field grounds are just right beside the outside pool. There was a reinforced metal and concrete wall that was set up cruelly, but on the 3rd day after entering high school, I discovered a small gap in the corner of the concrete wall. It looked to be a blind spot to the pool, and an oasis where I could see paradise in heaven.

Of course, peeping is a crime. There’s no way such a despicable crime is allowed.

But well, there’s something called irresistibility in this world!

I joined the track club, and we carry out our activities at one side of the track grounds. It was the club closest to the oasis, and after our training, we’ll rest at the rest, chat and laugh over there, and the occasional sightseeing couldn’t be helped. It really can’t be helped.

The perverted Irish author I respected, Oscar Wilde said even as he was headed to hell.

“I don’t regret for a single moment having lived for pleasure.” 

It’s just like what he said. I shouldn’t let go of any chance for the sake of this upcoming summer paradise.

But if I had miscalculated anything, it would be about the content of the activities of the track club.

Before my chance to turn back vanished, I should have done a check on this. Because these activities were for both boys and girls, I would be surrounded by sweaty girls in their gym uniforms, in this way the swimming club and track club would be easily got hold of by me. Now that I think back, that vision was just too empty. Ever since the start, the track club was a club that would make one sever ties with love.

In the summer of my first year, don't talk about swimsuits or anything of that sort, this world was just complete hell.

Everyday, I was tormented like a ragged cloth, and I could only disintegrate into a pile of mud and sleep till night had fallen once I had gotten home. I was so tired that I didn't have time to watch <Swimsuit Idol Show (only a few bits of it are revealing!)>, the late-night show which I had recorded, hence the episodes could only accumulate.

But as things have progressed, I already have no other route to take.

The "Steel King" controlled the entire track club.

Now that I've said that, there should be many who will have a doubtful or unsure expression. The Steel King? Is this person a relative of the Distortion King (TL Note: It's meant to be 歪曲王)? Or is this a confederate of Andrew Carnegie? Totally none of them. Please imagine a demon commander that is commonly portrayed in war movies. The level of the "Steel King's" scariness is probably enough to make those guys flee without their shoes on.

"What? What are you looking at? You want me to leave your face with burn scars, huh?"

In an arcade on a High Street, a juvenile delinquent who was causing a ruckus was unfortunate enough to encounter the "Steel King", and after being chastised harshly --

"Yes, this servant has realized his wrongdoing, and is willing to gift you with his life. This servant awaits your order, and will do everything according to your command, my King."

It's a very dramatic development. Things like this have happened so many times that I've lost count.

...No, I don't really care about Steel King. The topic I want to talk about is swimsuits; I want to talk to this world about swimsuits. With only swimsuits and water, I can live on.

To say it again, competitive swimsuits are really magical. Only after four seasons, up to the summer of my second year did I come up with this conclusion. At that time, I was finally used to the practice of the track club after hard work.

What's a pity is that, when I had come up with this conclusion, I had also encountered a crisis of my life.

That day, before preparing to run five kilometers, I started to do warm-ups to stretch my leg muscles for safety reasons. It’s just that my line of vision was exactly towards the gap in the concrete wall, and that gap coincidentally showed the spring scenery at the other side, the swimming pool. All of these were just coincidences; they are things that I cannot help.

At this time, below the sun that was entering the July stage; the breeze that blew on our faces was just too weak, as the sun conquered the southern sky. The entire field groups were baked, my head and toes were practically about to be cooked—a hellish extra-sunny day.

This kind of day really makes one feel like staying in an oasis for a longer time.

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