Yeoman lost count of how many dryads he had slept with. He didn’t even know any of their names. Tanaeci had brought him back to her community, as she called it, and dozens of dryads had surrounded him, entranced by his smell. Before Yeoman could even introduce himself, the dryads had already taken action as if they had agreed on it beforehand. They bound him with vines grown through magic and had their way with him. Even now, Yeoman was still tied up inside a shelter constructed of vines and leaves. Thankfully, they left him with an open ceiling, so sunlight could still flow in. There was no chance of him starving to death.

Right now, it was nighttime, the only time Yeoman got to himself. His restraints were like manacles, tied around his arms and legs, attached to a tree. They were long enough for him to walk around and practice his katas. Yeoman didn’t really mind the restraints; he could escape at any time: either by ripping his arms and legs off and reattaching them or by teleporting away with his ring. The only problem was he had no idea how to obtain dryad soul water while he was tied up. Then again, it didn’t seem like any of the dryads had been pollinated seeing as Tanaeci paid him a visit more than once.

It was only the third day, so Yeoman wasn’t expecting much. Humans took a while to show signs of pregnancy. Plants would probably be the same. Yeoman wasn’t sure. He might’ve had some background in biology, but plants weren’t his specialty. A sigh escaped from Yeoman’s mouth as he took a seat and stared up at the unfamiliar stars in the sky. Honestly, he was confused. Before the alien abduction, he was an ordinary man. He wasn’t exceptional; sure, he was a bit lucky to be born into a good family, but he wasn’t a billionaire’s son. He wasn’t a musical prodigy. He had no talent for sports. If things continued as is, he’d grow up, die, and leave nothing behind as a legacy. Perhaps eighty years after his death, no one would remember he even existed.

Now, however…, things were different. In this weird little dimension the aliens had created, Yeoman wasn’t ordinary. Judging by the polls on the internet, he was part of the tiny few who had cleared all the missions, claimed all the points. The first time was largely due to luck. Granted, the second time was also largely due to luck as well. However, what if he were to clear all the missions once again? There were already signs of it happening. His party was advancing well without him. He was close to obtaining the water from the Fountain of Youth. The only difficult missions left involved stealing a dragon egg and obtaining Fruits of Knowledge. Sure, he was lucky to have been mistaken for one of Grimmoldesser’s creations because he was a zombie with crow wings, but could that really be called luck? When did the results of one’s actions become a consequence of their hard work rather than as a result of their luck?

Yeoman had worked hard to become an engineer. He toughed it out through mathematics and physics courses, studying his ass off every night, spending hours trying to solve homework problems using methods in the textbook that the professors happened to forget to teach. He went to all the professors’ office hours, went to all the tutoring sessions, and studied to the point of neglecting his health. Clearly, it was his efforts that brought him to where he was today. However, someone might point out the fact he was lucky to be born into a good family that supported him. They helped him pay for college, cared for his wellbeing, and even bought him his first car. Those people would say the only reason Yeoman became an engineer with a well-paying job was because he was lucky while disregarding the hard work and effort he put in. Perhaps those people were right. If he was born into a family that didn’t care about him and neglected him as a child, he might not have been as successful. Perhaps those people were wrong, and Yeoman would’ve gotten to where he was either way. Or perhaps … it just didn’t matter.

Yeoman had perfectly cleared two stages, claiming all the points inside of them—even obtaining the points from the Proofs of Murder. If the polls on the internet could be trusted, less than ten thousandths of the total population had done the same. Granted, that was still seven hundred thousand people, but it didn’t change the fact Yeoman was on the far-right end of the bell curve. Whether or not his position was due to luck didn’t matter. He was there now, and he intended on staying there.

“You look troubled,” a feminine voice said.

Yeoman turned his head. Tanaeci walked into the shelter, her figure illuminated by the moonlight. She let out a yawn and took a seat beside Yeoman. She placed her hand on his chest and drew a circle with her finger. “What are you thinking about?”

“What happens next,” Yeoman said and sat up. “Once this is all over.”

“Do you regret it?” Tanaeci asked. “If we hadn’t had sex, you would still have a long life ahead of you.”

Yeoman shook his head. He wasn’t worried about that; in the first place, he wasn’t a male dryad. Sex wouldn’t kill him. “I don’t regret it,” Yeoman said. “There’s just a few things I hoped to have achieved before I died.”

“Oh?” Tanaeci asked, leaning her body against his. She took in a deep sniff. “And what things are those? If they’re not impossible, I can help out.”

Yeoman had thought about it during his nights here. The dryads were powerful, and it didn’t seem likely for him to obtain their soul water through thievery. Actually, even if he were an expert thief, he still wouldn’t know how to take their soul water. The dryads didn’t have nipples, and without nipples, Yeoman had no idea where their soul water was produced. However, before asking them for their soul water, he had to see if asking for a basinful was a reasonable request or not. He still had time; there was no need to rush. In fact, there were other things he could ask the dryads to do for him. “I’ve heard the elves cultivate Fruits of Knowledge. Do you think it’ll be possible to get some for me?”

Tanaeci’s brow furrowed. After taking in a deep breath and sighing, she shook her head. “Even if you weren’t going to die in a few months, the odds of you ever obtaining a Fruit of Knowledge in your lifetime would be close to none. The elves are very protective of them. They’d start a war against us if we took some fruits. Perhaps there’s something else on your deathbed wish list I could help you with?”

What a shame. If the dryads were willing to help him obtain a Fruit of Knowledge, he could’ve cleared one of the bonus missions without lifting a finger. Then, there was still something else he could obtain from the dryads. “I’ve always heard of people being imprinted, gaining magical abilities through their imprints. Sometimes, I would fantasize about that. Maybe one day, I could obtain an imprint too—that’s what I used to think, but it seems like an impossibility now.”

Tanaeci stared at Yeoman. “You haven’t been imprinted?”

Yeoman shook his head. Judging by the look of shock on Tanaeci’s face, he might’ve said something wrong. “Is that abnormal?”

“Hang on,” Tanaeci said. “I’ll be right back.”

Yeoman’s brow furrowed, but as his thumb traced the golden ring on his left hand, the wrinkles on his forehead disappeared. Even if he had said something wrong, provoking the dryads into attacking him, he could always teleport away. There was no risk to his life. Then again, Lan was the previous owner of the ring, but he had ended up dead under Yeoman’s teeth. As long as Yeoman didn’t let an attacker instantly kill him or latch onto him, he should be fine. Even if he wasn’t, he’d still be brought back to life by the aliens anyway.

A few minutes passed, and Tanaeci came back with another dryad. The dryad was covered with droopy leaves, and there was a sleepy expression on her face. “You woke me up and brought me here for what? A threesome? I told you many times now: I’ve no interest in sex.”

“I didn’t bring you here for that, Pleono!” Tanaeci said with a red face. “Yeoman hasn’t been imprinted. You’re the only dryad in the community who isn’t sleeping with him, so the only one who can imprint him without feeling awkward is you.”

Pleono snorted. “Why would I imprint someone who’s going to die within a few months?”

“Don’t be like that,” Tanaeci said. “What if something goes wrong with the next generation because Yeoman hasn’t been imprinted? I’ll fetch you a big juicy bug for dinner tomorrow if you do this for me. We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

Pleono rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said and walked up to Yeoman, who was still sitting. Her eyes glowed with a green light. “Are you ready for your imprint?”

It turned out dryads also imprinted their children. Yeoman was under the assumption only magical beasts did it; at least, he couldn’t remember any mentions of humanoid species imprinting their offspring in the original novel. Even the elves had to set out into the wilderness to find a beast to imprint them. Yeoman put on a serious expression and stared at the dryad, looking into her glowing eyes. “Yes. I’m ready.”

Blop.

Without ceremony, Pleono slapped Yeoman’s forehead as if there were a mosquito on it. A light shone from Yeoman’s left wrist.

[Unlocked genus Dryad.]

[Obtained: Dryad Language]

[Dryad Language: You can speak with dryads fluently.]

That was it? There was no fancy ceremony? It was just a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am? Leaving the method of imprinting aside, Yeoman was a bit disappointed with the reward for unlocking the dryad gene. Where were the magical spells? Where was the mana? Even if it was just a gene unlock, when he had become goblin king, there were thousands of points worth of unlocks. There weren’t even any physical modifiers for this one. Well, the dryad gene was probably disconnected from the phylogenetic tree of life like the human zombie fungus gene and scavenger crow gene. It was better to have it than to not have it. “Thank you, Pleono.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pleono said. “I’ll extract the debt from your kids seeing as you’ll be dead soon.” She turned to look at Tanaeci. “Was that all you woke me for?”

Tanaeci nodded. “Thanks. Sorry for disturbing your sleep.”

Pleono grunted and waved as she turned to leave. “I expect a giant millipede for dinner tomorrow. Have fun with your boytoy.”

Tanaeci watched Pleono exit the shelter. Once the second dryad was far away, Tanaeci sat beside Yeoman. “I noticed you can speak dryad now,” she said, raising an eyebrow, which consisted of multiple tiny leaves. “Are you satisfied with your imprint?”

Yeoman nodded. It was a shame he didn’t gain any magical abilities, but he’d have to check what he could unlock from the gene after the stage was over. It was too early to be disappointed. “Thank you.”

Tanaeci chuckled. “That’s great,” she said and pushed Yeoman, knocking him down onto his back. “Now, it’s your turn to satisfy me.”

A night of shameful deeds—that any respectable author would gloss over with one sentence—soon passed, and Tanaeci left Yeoman when the sun came up. However, Yeoman didn’t have any time to rest because the other dryads in the community were waking, and soon, more shameful deeds occurred in the morning. More shameful deeds occurred in the afternoon. More shameful deeds occurred in the evening. And when night came, Yeoman could finally rest … until Tanaeci came to pay him a visit to shame him some more. This continued for several weeks—maybe months, who knows, Yeoman wasn’t counting—until, one day, Tanaeci came in the afternoon instead of at night with an announcement. “I’m fruiting!”

Before that moment, Yeoman was not aware fruit could be used as a verb. However, his spirits were lifted upon hearing it. “Does that mean … no more sex?”

Tanaeci rolled her eyes. “My flower’s closing up and turning into a fruit,” she said. “How do you expect to do it if that’s the case?”

Yeoman exhaled. If his current lifestyle had to go on any longer, Yeoman was sure he would’ve teleported away to escape from it. It was … draining … to say the least. Now that it was confirmed he could get dryads pregnant, Yeoman could finally start worrying about the next part of his plan. “Where are you going to plant it? When you first nurture it with soul water, can I come see?”

“It’ll have to grow for a month before I can plant it, but I’ve already reserved a spot in the center of the community,” Tanaeci said. “By that time, everyone else should be fruiting as well, so you’ll be a free dryad; of course, you can watch me nurture it.”

Yeoman nodded, but before he could say anything, another dryad stepped into the shelter. “It’s great that you’re fruiting, but some of us aren’t yet,” she said and nudged Tanaeci away. She pushed Yeoman down and straddled her legs over his body.

Tanaeci cleared her throat and waved at Yeoman while backing out of the shelter. “I’ll see you later then. Enjoy!”

Yeoman’s expression darkened. Just one more month, and he’d be free.