The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe-Chapter 156: “Master Is Already a Being That Does Not Require Food to Live” Is Supposed to Be a Good Thing?

Chapter 156: “Master Is Already a Being That Does Not Require Food to Live” Is Supposed to Be a Good Thing?

When Roselyn cut into hers, the slice parted with a soft sigh, releasing a thin wisp of steam that smelled of barbecue and burn flowers.

Nearby sat bowls of what resembled mashed potatoes, creamy white mounds that quivered every few seconds as if stirred by an invisible spoon.

Small tendrils of green vine extended from the base, curling lazily over the rim before retracting again.

A platter held something like roasted vegetables—bulbous purple shapes that rolled slightly when the table leaf flexed, skins splitting open to reveal soft, glowing insides that steamed faintly.

I’m hungry, and everyone else seem to be eating it, so I’m eating it too.

The hunger gnawed low in my stomach, sharp and familiar, pulling my hand toward the nearest plate without much thought.

Roselyn tore off a piece of her pink steak with her teeth, chewing slowly, eyes half-closed in satisfaction.

Isabelle delicately plucked a heart-shaped candy from the center, holding it between thumb and forefinger, turning it once to admire the way light passed through before placing it on her tongue.

Claire nibbled at a coiled ribbon, small bites, cheeks puffing slightly as she savored it.

Clay picked at a glowing ball, pinching tiny pieces and rolling them between her fingers before popping them in her mouth, expression thoughtful.

I reached for one of the heart-shaped pieces, myself.

My fingers closed around it—cool at first, then warming instantly against my skin.

The surface yielded like firm gelatin, springing back when I pressed. I brought it to my mouth.

The outer layer cracked softly between my teeth, releasing a burst of sweetness that spread across my tongue—strawberry and vanilla and something sharper, like ozone after rain.

Inside, the jelly pulsed once against the roof of my mouth before melting into liquid warmth.

I swallowed and felt the flavor linger, spreading down my throat in slow waves.

I should cherish this ability to feel hunger, before Sys happens to me and I become a being who doesn’t need food.

The thought came on me quietly, almost mournful. Hunger felt human and grounding.

A reminder that I still needed something, still responded to the world the way a person should.

Once that vanished, what would remain?

The idea of never tasting anything again, never feeling that pull in the gut, never experiencing the simple satisfaction of a full stomach—it unsettled me more than the power gains ever had. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

{Answer: Master is already a being that does not require food to live. The "hunger" Master feels currently is a self-imposed feature Master is subconsciously causing "to not feel like something inhuman."}

Of course.

Sys voice cut through clean and matter-of-fact, with no inflection and emotion.

Just information, delivered like a weather report. I stared at the half-eaten heart in my hand, pink jelly still clinging to my fingers, and felt the words settle in my chest like lead.

So hunger was just a habit I clung to so I wouldn’t have to admit how far I’d already drifted?

I refuse to believe that though.

"Uh, Isabelle," I ignored the mind-breaking aside from Sys, "Is this place your home?"

My voice came out steadier than I expected.

I set the candy(?) down carefully, wiping my fingers on the edge of the leaf-table.

Isabelle sat right beside me, close enough that her wing brushed my arm once when she shifted.

She turned her face to me slowly, green eyes bright, twin buns now neat despite everything from yesterday.

A small crumb of glowing jelly clung to the corner of her mouth, but she licked it away with a quick dart of her tongue before answering.

"Ah, yes it is." She nodded once, small and precise.

Her hand rested on the table, fingers lightly curled around the stem of a dish that looked like a blooming flower made of pale blue frosting. "In Fairylynch, incidentally, anyone can sleep anywhere. But officials like me have designated resident."

She spoke calmly, voice soft but clear, carrying easily over the quiet murmurs of the other fairies moving through the space.

Her thumb traced the edge of her plate absentmindedly while she talked.

Was it a small, unconscious habit? The way her lashes lowered slightly when she said "officials" made her look almost shy about it.

This place was situated inside a large, old-looking tree covered in moss.

The trunk walls rose high around us, bark rough and dark in places, softened by thick layers of emerald moss that draped like curtains.

Glowing veins threaded through the wood, pulsing slow and steady, casting gentle green-gold light across the dining area.

Vines hung from the ceiling in loose loops, some blooming with tiny white flowers that released faint sweetness into the air whenever a breeze moved through.

The floor itself was like sentient root, polished smooth in the center but still ridged and textured underfoot.

Fairies fluttered overhead—some carrying trays of fresh dishes, others adjusting hanging lanterns made of carved-out glowing fruit.

The whole space felt grown rather than built. It felt organic and alive.

Hmm... It looked like a Mansion that had meld with nature, and a lot of fairies flying here and there doing their jobs.

High arches opened into side chambers visible through gaps in the vines—more tables, low benches shaped from branches, shelves of scrolls and crystal orbs.

Fairies darted constantly: one with silver braids adjusting a hanging orb so it floated higher, another sprinkling glittering pollen over a dish to make it shimmer brighter.

Their wings caught the light in flashes of pastel—lavender, mint, rose—creating brief rainbows across the walls.

Hey, hold up! I forgot Isabelle was actually a high ranking member of this society though!

The realization landed late but hard.

The calm way she spoke about "designated resident." The way other fairies nodded respectfully when they passed her.

The calm authority in her posture even when she was just eating candy. She wasn’t just some secretary. She held a huge position here.

What was it? Prime minister?

Ah, then for the other fairies to be so close to her, they must be also high ranking or so?

Roselyn sat across from me, elbows on the table, tearing another piece from her pink steak with casual fingers.

Claire perched neatly on her chair, legs crossed at the ankles, nibbling delicately.

Her younger sister Clay stayed quieter, eyes down on her plate, picking at an orb with careful pinches.

To my answer: