Gon's Harem System
Chapter 73: Gon has a mischievous idea

Chapter 73: Gon has a mischievous idea

Her features were finely sculpted, almost too perfect, as if an artist had taken painstaking care in crafting each delicate detail.

High cheekbones lent her an air of nobility, while her smooth, flawless skin glowed with a natural radiance.

Her almond-shaped eyes, sharp yet alluring, held an intensity that seemed to draw people in without effort.

Her nose was well-proportioned, straight and refined, neither too small nor too pronounced, adding to the symmetry of her face.

But it was her lips that held a quiet allure, full, perfectly shaped, and carrying an unreadable expression that only deepened her mystique.

She had a very stern demeanor however even with her stern demeanor, her beauty was undeniable, so much so that it could easily capture the attention of any man who laid eyes on her.

"Uhm.. Hi." Gon said, finding himself suddenly nervous.

Gon quickly straightened his posture, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must have looked, lying in bed, fumbling over a simple word.

He had faced intense battles, endured grueling training, and stared down powerful opponents without flinching.

And yet, here he was, thrown off balance by a single woman’s presence.

He clenched his fists beneath the blanket, silently scolding himself.

Why am I acting like a nervous kid? He wasn’t intimidated. He refused to be.

Clearing his throat, he steadied his expression. "I mean.. uh, where am I?" He asked, trying to sound composed.

His voice came out stronger this time, more controlled, but there was no denying the slight stiffness in his tone.

"You’re in one of the healing chambers," she said simply. "You collapsed in the middle of the tournament. Do you remember?"

At her words, the memories came rushing back, the dizziness, the weightlessness, the feeling of his body betraying him, and then, darkness.

He had fallen, right there in the middle of the arena, in front of everyone.

His jaw tightened. So that wasn’t a dream.

The woman continued, her voice calm but firm. "You’ve been unconscious for some time. Your body is still weak. Try not to push yourself too hard."

"Who are you?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Celia nodded, her expression calm and unreadable. "Your nurse," she repeated. "I’ve been assigned to monitor your condition and ensure your recovery."

Gon blinked, his mind struggling to reconcile the image of this poised, sharp-eyed woman with the word nurse.

He had expected someone older, maybe softer in demeanor.

Gon watched her for a moment before looking away, his mind already spinning with questions.

Why had he collapsed? What had happened after he lost consciousness? And most importantly—what would happen next?

Gon exhaled slowly, staring up at the ornately carved ceiling. "Right," he murmured, nodding slightly as the memory of his collapse settled in.

Celia observed him carefully, her sharp eyes studying his face as if searching for any lingering signs of distress. "Do you remember anything before you passed out?" she asked, her tone measured.

He swallowed and shook his head. "Not much," he admitted. "Just... the fight, the crowd, and then everything went hazy."

Celia gave a thoughtful nod before turning toward the table where several vials and herbs were arranged in neat rows. "That’s not surprising. Your body was under a great deal of stress." She picked up a small glass bottle filled with a deep amber liquid and swirled it slightly. "You were out for quite a while."

Celia sighed and moved closer, pressing a firm hand to his shoulder, silently urging him to stay down. "and you’re lucky it wasn’t longer. Your body needed the rest."

"I didn’t think I was pushing myself that hard," Gon muttered, more to himself than to Celia.

Celia sighed, picking up a small glass bottle from the table beside his bed. "That’s usually how it happens," she said, pouring a dark liquid into a spoon. "You don’t notice until your body forces you to stop." She stepped closer, holding out the spoon. "Here. This will help with the headache."

Gon eyed the liquid warily.

It had the deep color of aged ink and a faint herbal scent that hinted at bitterness.

He hesitated, but Celia gave him a pointed look—one that told him she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

With a quiet sigh, he took the medicine, grimacing at the sharp, earthy taste as it slid down his throat. He shuddered slightly, then handed the spoon back. "That was awful," he grumbled.

Celia smirked. "If medicine tasted good, people wouldn’t take it seriously."

Gon huffed but didn’t argue. He let his head rest against the pillow, staring up at the ornate ceiling.

His thoughts swirled as he tried to piece everything together.

He had collapsed from exhaustion—but why now? He had fought plenty of times before, trained even harder, and never once had his body failed him like this.

Something about it didn’t sit right with him.

As he was thinking about this, Celia bent to pick something from the ground and Gon couldn’t help but stare at her buttocks, the way they parted so beautifully.

They looked very soft even through her gown.

Gon blinked, snapping his gaze away as quickly as it had drifted.

His face warmed slightly, and he mentally scolded himself.

"What am I doing?" He had just woken up, still feeling the remnants of exhaustion, and yet his attention had slipped so easily.

Gon felt his boner jump a little.

"Not now." He muttered to himself.

Celia straightened, unaware of his momentary lapse, holding a small towel in her hands.

"You should rest a little longer," she said, her voice carrying a note of professionalism. "Your body needs time to recover."

Gon cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. "Yeah... I guess you’re right."

"Did anyone come to visit me?"

Celia arched a delicate brow, her lips pressing into a thin line as if debating how to answer.

"Of course," she finally said, her voice even. "Your mother came as soon as she heard. She was... very distressed."

"And my father?"

"No, the Duke didn’t come", she replied.

Gon wasn’t surprised.

he knew the Duke’s priorities, he understood that the tournament was bigger than just one participant, but the absence still stung in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

However, as he looked at Celia, he forgot about his disappointment and a mischievous idea crept into his mind.

He shifted slightly on the bed and said, "Can you help me sit up?"