Chapter 835: Your Gun May Be Impressive, But You’re Shooting Blanks

Everyone just…stared at Abigaille.

Mouths slightly open. Eyes wide. Even Evangeline, usually composed to the point of apathy, had a hand over her brow as if massaging away the sheer absurdity of what she’d just heard.

Abigaille blinked, looking around at the circle of stunned faces, her nerves starting to fray.

“W-What? Did I say something strange?”

Nina was the first to recover, rubbing the back of her neck with a crooked grin.

“Strange? I mean…kind of. You didn’t really need divine intervention for that, Abi. That’s, uh…usually something people just do on their own.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Camilla folded her arms, smirking. “You didn’t need to wish for it. Just drag him into the bedroom, and voilà, nature does the rest.”

Bella and Olivia nodded rapidly, both blushing but clearly agreeing.

But to their surprise, Abigaille groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“That’s exactly the problem!” She blurted, voice breaking in frustration. She grabbed her hair, shaking her head. “That’s why I asked for the wish in the first place!”

The chorus of laughter and teasing died instantly. Everyone turned toward her again, confusion flickering through the silence.

Abigaille drew a deep, unsteady breath and looked up, her expression full of embarrassment and fierce determination.

“I really didn’t want to bring this up right now.” She said, voice low. “It’s…kind of personal. And, well, it might embarrass Kafi a little. It’s not fair to him, and I hate talking about it.”

Kafka frowned, arms crossing. “Embarrass me? What are you even talking about, Mom?”

Her eyes darted to him and away again, her lips tightening. “I—please don’t make me say it, Kafi.”

He took a step forward, tone incredulous.

“Come on, Mom, I’m standing right here. What could possibly embarrass me that badly? Just say it. What’s this ‘matter’ you’re hinting at?”

Abigaille’s hands twisted together. “You’ll be mad.” She whispered.

Kafka gave a short scoff. “You know how unashamed I am of anything? There’s nothing in this world that can get under my skin like that. So go ahead, spit it out.”

Abigaille hesitated, eyes flicking between him and the floor. Every gaze in the room pinned her in place; she could feel her face burning. Then, in a tiny voice, she said,

“I think…maybe…Kafi might have a problem.”

“…A problem?” Nina echoed.

Camilla also leaned forward, curious. “Wait, what kind of problem are we talking about here?”

Abigaille fidgeted, cheeks glowing crimson.

“Um…you know…his body.”

That made everyone freeze again.

Kafka blinked slowly, utterly lost. “My—My what now?”

Abigail’s voice trembled. “You all know how…Kafi’s…gun is, right? Very strong. Powerful. Big.”

That drew a collective mixture of coughs, smothered laughs, and one audible pffft from Nina. Bella squeaked and covered her face with both hands.

Camilla’s grin was positively mischievous. “Oh, we know, darling.” She purred. “None of us could ever forget.”

Abigaille blushed even harder, her words tumbling faster as she finally said,

“B-But! The thing is—even though the gun itself is, um, strong…the bullets he shoots aren’t exactly…effective.”

There was a beat of pure silence before the meaning sank in and Kafka’s eyes immediately widened, disbelief crashing into outrage.

“What the, Mom?! What are you saying right now?!” His voice cracked with stunned indignation. “You’re telling me my—my shots are worthless? That my—what—the thing underneath doesn’t work at all?!”

Abigaille’s composure broke; she jumped to her feet, flustered beyond reason.

“I am, Kafi! That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Her words spilled out, fast and emotional. “I didn’t want to bring it up because I know how you’d react—but yes! Every time, every single time we’re together, you finish inside me—” She blushed furiously. “…and I always hoped that maybe, maybe that would be the moment, that I’d finally carry your child! It’s been my biggest dream, my biggest wish!”

“But every time…every time I wake up the next morning and there’s nothing. No sign. No life inside me…And it broke my heart, Kafi. It hurt.”

The room was deathly quiet again except for the soft mewling of a kitten by Olivia’s foot. Kafka stood rigid, all the color draining from his face.

“I thought maybe it was me.” Abigaille continued, voice trembling now, thick with emotion. “I thought maybe I was the one with the problem. That maybe I wasn’t good enough, or that I wasn’t made for it. I blamed myself for so long…”

“Abi…” Olivia whispered gently, her eyes glassy.

“But then I found out…” Abigaille swallowed hard, glancing around at the other women. “…from Camilla, and Nina, and the others. One by one. And it turns out…” She looked back at Kafka, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “…it’s not just me, Kafi.”

Camilla and Nina, who had both been chuckling moments earlier, fell silent, looking suddenly awkward.

“And that’s when I started thinking…” Abigaille whispered, voice trembling. “If it was just me, I could blame myself. But if all of us, every single one…” She looked around the room, eyes landing on Bella, on Olivia, both of whom now stared back with a bit of guilt and realization. “…if all of us went through it, then what else am I supposed to think?”

Her words hung heavy in the quiet that followed. Even the kittens and puppies seemed subdued now, curling quietly near their feet as if sensing the tension.

And hearing his mother deny his manhood, Kafka blinked several times, disbelief freezing his expression into something between a grimace and a smirk.

For a moment, he looked as if he were waiting for the punchline, for someone to snort, slap their thigh, and call it what it surely had to be: a joke.

But no one laughed.

“Alright. Hah. Very funny, Mom.” He forced out a short chuckle anyway, scanning the faces around him. “Good one. You almost had me there.”

But no one laughed.

He looked around again, waiting.

Nina? Camilla? Bella? Olivia? Surely one of them would join in, tell him what an absurd joke it was.

But the silence persisted. They weren’t smiling. They were looking at him, each pair of eyes suspicious, uncertain, like they were silently weighing Abigaille’s words.

“Hold up.” Kafka blinked, incredulous. “Hold on a damn second.” He raised both hands, his voice climbing in disbelief. “Why are you looking at me like that? You, you don’t actually believe that, do you? You know it’s a joke, right? You don’t seriously think my bullets don’t fire properly?!”

Still, no one spoke.

Abigaille bit her lip, eyes downcast. The other women shifted awkwardly.

And then Camilla, always the first to fill a silence, sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her usual confidence faltered, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

“Well…” She began carefully. ” I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but honestly, Abi’s got a point.”

Kafka’s jaw slackened. “…What?”

Camilla rubbed her arm, laughing nervously. “Look, I’m not saying you’re…you know, defective or anything. But the thing is, it’s kinda the same with me. Every single time we’ve done it…” She gestured vaguely. “…and it’s not like we’ve ever used protection or anything, and I’ve made sure it was during my, uh, fertile nights too…” Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she pressed on. “Still, nothing. Not even once. Not a hint.”

Kafka’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“And…” Camilla added weakly. “I might’ve thought about it once or twice myself. Wondered if maybe…” She trailed off, cringing under his stunned stare.

Before he could answer, Nina let out a low grunt, scratching her cheek. “Yeah, same here, actually.”

“Not you too.” Kafka whipped his head toward her.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Nina shrugged helplessly with flashed cheeks. “I’m just saying the facts. Every damn time, I’ve been drooping down there afterward—”

She gestured vaguely, earning a few snickers from the others

“…and I mean filled up, completely. But nothing’s come out of it. No little Kafka, no baby, nothing. I even thought maybe I was jinxed for a while.”

Kafka gaped at her, speechless. And then Bella, little Bella, lifted her hand shyly.

“It’s true.” She said in a small voice. “I got so worried that I even…um…bought some books. Did research online. Tried to see if there was any special diet or position that could help…” She fidgeted nervously. “But I couldn’t find anything. It just, doesn’t happen.”

Kafka stared at her blankly, his face twitching like a man in the middle of a bad dream.

Finally, all eyes turned to Olivia.

But the poor woman nearly jumped out of her seat.

“D-Don’t look at me!” She squeaked, holding her hands up defensively. “I-I just got here yesterday! I have no opinion! None whatsoever!”

Nina smiled at her reaction, but Kafka didn’t even blink. His face had gone pale, as if he’d just been accused of treason.

He looked around at them, all the women he’d loved, fought for, protected, and felt a hollow pit open in his chest. They were all staring at him like he was broken.

He then opened his mouth to explain as that seemed to be only way to save his dignity—but before he could speak—Vanitas suddenly stepped forward, fury flashing in her eyes.

“That’s enough!”

Vanitas swept forward, her gown whispering across the floor like a storm tide. Her eyes blazed with maternal fury as she placed herself squarely between Kafka and the others.

“What nonsense are you all speaking?!” She snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. “My son—my son, defective? Utterly impossible!”

The women blinked at her sudden ferocity, but she wasn’t done.

“No child of mine would ever be weak in such a manner!” She declared, crossing her arms. “He is a demigod, for heaven’s sake! His body surpasses even the highest of divine standards!”

“Mom…” Kafka groaned, pressing his face into his palm.

But Vanitas was on a roll.

“Not to mention, he is the Incarnation of Lust!” She proclaimed dramatically. “Even a single drop of his essence could impregnate millions! To say my son is infertile is blasphemy of the highest order!”

Her outburst that she said in a desperate manner to save her son’s honour left everyone speechless.

Kafka rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Mom, please don’t phrase it like that…”

But to his surprise, Evangeline gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Lady Vanitas is correct.”

Everyone turned to her in surprise.

“Kafka’s divine composition is not ordinary. His life force alone is potent enough to awaken fertility in barren lands, let alone in mortal bodies. By every measure of divinity—he is likely the most fertile being in existence.”

Nina blinked. “Wait—are you saying he’s, like…super fertile?”

“Precisely.” Evangeline said serenely. “To suggest otherwise is laughable.”

Now it was the women’s turn to look confused.

Abigaille blinked rapidly. “Then…if that’s true…” She trailed off, her expression twisting into alarm. “If Kafi’s not the problem…does that mean…”

“No way.” Camilla’s eyes went wide as realization dawned.

Nina froze mid-thought, color draining from her face. “Don’t tell me…”

“You mean…it’s us?!” Bella gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth.

The words hit like a thunderclap. All of their faces going pale.

The idea alone was horrifying.

Each of them had dreamed—secretly or not, of bearing Kafka’s child one day, of feeling life bloom inside them with his warmth.

So, to think they might be the problem was a nightmare none of them wanted to face…

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