CHAPTER 25: CHAPTER 25- DECLARATION OF A DCKLESS FROG

The cloudless sky was bluer than any color Yuuta had ever seen back on Earth. The air was still, dry, almost pleasant in its emptiness. No fireballs, no arrows, no war cries, no ugly pig warriors chasing after him like he owed them money.

Just peace. Just footprints.

Long trails of heavy, overlapping pigman tracks carved into the dirt ahead of him like a road paved by failure. And Yuuta followed them with a spring in his step, his frog feet softly padding on the sunbaked ground as he hummed.

"Zankoku na tenshi no you ni~" he mumbled in a wobbly voice, his pitch shifting with every bounce in his walk. "Shonen yo, shinwa ni nare~!"

He added a few exaggerated hip sways and finger points, as if the canyon walls were his personal concert venue. Every now and then, he’d even twirl with his arms spread wide like some deranged frog ballerina on drugs.

If anyone had seen him, they wouldn’t think he was en route to commit mass amphibious homicide. He looked like a tourist in the mood to dance, humming anime openings from a past life he could barely touch anymore.

And yet... his thoughts wandered.

Somewhere in the middle of the third anime OP melody, Yuuta’s mind quietly drifted toward home. Not this blood-crusted, canyon-ridden meat grinder of a world, but home—the real one. Back on Earth. Back to his parents.

"...I hope they’re not crying too much," he muttered under his breath, his pace slowing. "Would suck if they got all depressed."

The mental image of his mom finding his body slumped over his VR chair while anime moaning noises played in the background made his webbed fingers twitch in embarrassment.

"Ah... my files..."

It hit him then. All those precious, poorly hidden "math note" folders. The ones tucked neatly into his PC and VR console under five layers of subfolders named things like ImportantWorkDoNotTouch.exe and TaxInfo2023.

"They probably already found the ’special’ anime vids..." he said with a painful exhale. "And the modded dating sim... And that one game with the ’custom slime girl expansion’..."

Yuuta stopped walking and stared blankly at the sky, letting the full weight of post-mortem humiliation settle in.

His mind flickered back to home—his parents. His mom’s cooking. His dad’s lame jokes. The quiet support they gave him even when he was wasting his life playing horny gacha games and pretending "math_notes.xlsx" was a real school project.

He could almost picture them now... sitting in front of his pc chair, realizing he wasn’t coming back.

A strange mix of guilt and longing churned in his gut. Not the kind that made him cry, no. Yuuta wasn’t built for tears.

Instead, it made him declare war on logic.

With no warning, Yuuta raised his chin, slapped one three-fingered hand over his squishy, dickless chest, and stood tall—well, as tall as a squat, unhinged frogman could.

"I, Shinozaki Yuuta, hereby swear—on the honor of my family name and the crusty porn folder they probably found on my PC—that I will carry the Shinozaki legacy to new, legendary heights!"

He pointed skyward like a crazed anime protagonist mid-power-up.

"I will fuck my way across the species barrier! Beastkin, elf, orc, cyclops—I don’t give a shit what you are! If you’re hot and have hips, you’re getting inducted into the Frog Queen harem!"

He took a dramatic breath and raised both arms now.

"And I’ll raise a thousand kids! A thousand beautiful, half-breed Shinozakis! I’ll be the best damn father this world has ever seen—and every single one of them will know it all started with a frog too stubborn to stay dead!"

It echoed down the canyon like the mating call of a lunatic.

And for the briefest moment, Yuuta didn’t feel weak or pathetic or lost. He felt right. As if screaming that vow into the wind could somehow make up for the fact that his parents might never know what happened to him... but if they could hear him now, they’d know he still remembered them.

Still honored them. In the weirdest fucking way possible.

Yuuta’s wide frog mouth was pulled into a smug, self-satisfied grin. His huge eyes closed in triumph. His flabby frog chest puffed out like he’d just won a war. There was wind, too. Probably just a breeze, but it caught his green skin in a way that made the scene feel heroic.

It was, without a doubt, the most absurd moment of misplaced pride ever committed by an amphibian.

What made it worse was the fact that Yuuta had zero intention of acknowledging the mountain of logic and reality that stood in opposition to this vow. For instance:

—He had no dick.

—He was an ugly frog.

—He was, by most standards, deeply punchable.

—And if he did have kids, they’d probably come out looking like half-melted plushies.

But no. Yuuta wasn’t the kind of guy to let trivialities like biology or common sense get in the way of a horny anime-fueled prophecy.

He began walking again, still following the trail of footprints, still humming, but now doing so with the self-righteous gait of a man who thought he’d just declared war on destiny.

"I’ll be the best dad in this world," he said, still strutting like a discount anime protagonist. "No kid of mine’s gonna go through the shit I did. They’ll all grow up safe, strong, and probably with way better faces."

Then, as if finally registering his own reflection in a puddle of stagnant water, Yuuta paused and stared at himself.

"...Man, I’m ugly."

The frog face staring back at him was unmistakably his own—bulging eyes, flattened nose, permanent smug expression that made even him want to slap it. He poked at his cheek, watching the gelatinous skin jiggle slightly.

"No wonder even the rocks look at me funnily."

He stepped away and kept walking.

But the weirdest thing?

Even though his logic was trash, and even though his anatomy was now more suited to catching flies than producing heirs... Yuuta believed it.

He believed, with the full strength of his dumb little frog heart, that he’d one day rebuild his legacy. That his name would live on—not just as a frog mage, not just as a conqueror of pigs—but as the perverted, soft-hearted idiot who swore to give his children a better world.

One milf at a time.

___________________________________

Yuuta continued his hike, still humming tuneless anime openings with the energy of someone who definitely wasn’t preparing for a massacre. With each lazy step, he followed the pigman footprints like some demented, dickless detective. The trail curved between the canyon walls, and the way ahead grew brighter with every step.

Finally, the narrow rock path ended.

The world opened up.

Yuuta blinked.

It was like stepping out of a cardboard box into a damn painting.

Massive trees stood tall beyond the canyon’s exit, rising like green towers into the sky. Their trunks were thick enough to house elevators, their canopies stretched wide like parasols woven by nature itself. They looked like mutant Christmas trees from a fantasy world, except without the decorations, carols, or awkward family dinners. At their base was a wide trail of compact yellow sand, sunbaked and smooth, with not a single blade of grass in sight.

From a distance, a humongous mountain loomed—massive and wide, an ancient monolith that towered above even the clouds.

"Fuck," Yuuta whispered, unable to help himself. "This view’s actually amazing."

Reluctantly, he took a deep breath.

For once, he wasn’t greeted by the stench of blood, smoke, or pig guts. It was the earthy scent of sun-warmed soil and old forest. Real, clean air. Not bad for a world that kept throwing shit-covered lemons at him.

He stood there for a moment, breathing it in like some sage old monk. Then, frog eyes narrowing, he scanned the vast forest ahead. The straight path amidst the trees stretched so far it vanished into the distant blur of green and gold.

Yuuta let out a sigh.

Of course the pigs had to live somewhere far. The type of far that made your legs sore just thinking about it. But he was determined.

"They’re gonna pay," he muttered. "Every last one of those pork-faced bitches. I’ll make ’em suffer a hundred-fold. Maybe two hundred if I’m in the mood."

With that ominous declaration, Yuuta began his descent.

The path sloped downward.

Slightly steep.

A little dusty.

And, unfortunately, not designed for bipedal frogs with three fucking toes and zero traction.

Yuuta marched forward with the swagger of a guy who had just leveled up twice, nuked a cliff, and vowed to bang every milf across every species this world had to offer. His frog chest puffed, chin high, like he was too good for gravity itself.

He slipped.

"Fuuuuck—"

He tripped forward, and gravity grinned like a bitch.

Yuuta went into full ragdoll mode, limbs flailing like a puppet cut from its strings. He tumbled down the slope, flipping over rocks, bouncing off ledges, and collecting dust like a neglected carpet.

"Fucking shitty legs! Shitty slope! Shitty world!"

The end of the slope wasn’t exactly a crash landing, but it wasn’t graceful either. He finally skidded to a stop with his back on the warm sand, staring up at the sky while small pebbles rolled off his body.

He lay there for a moment, processing the stupidity of what just happened.

Then came the self-loathing.

"Frog legs, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Hah! More like discount spaghetti with zero grip."

Sitting up with a grimace, Yuuta began patting himself down. Sand clung to his limbs. Tiny rocks were lodged between his fingers. His skin ached in that dull way that promised bruises later, but nothing too serious.

Thanks to that handy regeneration card, the soreness would fade soon.

"Good thing I’m built like a cockroach now," he muttered.

Yuuta brushed off the last stubborn clump of dirt from his thigh, spat to the side, and pushed himself upright.

"Right. Back to business."

He squinted forward. The yellow trail stretched into the forest like an invitation. The pig footprints were still there, leading deeper into whatever territory the pork brigade called home.

There was no going back.

Yuuta inhaled again, savoring the clean air one last time.

Then he adjusted his invisible collar, puffed up his green chest again, and resumed his march—this time a little more carefully, just in case gravity got any bright ideas.

Behind him, the canyon was quiet.

Ahead of him, war was coming.

And Yuuta Shinozaki, dickless frog bastard and self-declared Milf Conqueror, was ready to bring chaos into the heart of the pigman tribe.