Luo Shaowen pressed closer. For some reason, the nearer he got, the more violently Lanyan's body trembled; her legs seemed to be turning to jelly, and her breathing grew increasingly rapid.
Between her thighs, a glistening, sticky fluid—whether sweat or something else—shimmered and trickled down the inner skin. Though she stubbornly refused to take a single step back, she seemed to have lost all strength to resist. Luo Shaowen watched the scene with satisfaction; it appeared the Pure Yang Essence Pill he had planted inside Tang Lanyan was taking effect. Not only did it drain her stamina whenever she channeled her extraordinary powers, but—more importantly—it rendered her incapable of opposing him.
Luo Shaowen harbored no qualms about winning unfairly.
He had never underestimated Tang Lanyan. The series of fierce "battles" they had waged—during which he, already well-endowed and further empowered by a pseudo-Pure Yang physique, would often ejaculate until his balls ached, his rod went numb and limp, and he was driven to the brink of ecstasy—had left a deep impression. Her formidable vitality, the way her sheath constantly squeezed and resisted him, and that indomitable, wild spirit of hers had earned his respect.
To Luo Shaowen, his eldest niece Xuetang was like water—supremely yielding. While she could be toyed with at will, it was difficult to truly mold her into the shape he desired; even after a sweaty, intense bout of lovemaking—with her honeyed depths still spasming post-climax—she would retain a final shred of resistance.
Tears would glisten at the corners of her eyes, and she would call out Li Dong's name in her dreams...
Only when her consciousness was clouded—and with a little guidance to make her believe she was being intimate with her fiancé—would she fully let go; the fluids she released then would send a numbing, electrifying tingle through his cock, leaving him utterly captivated.
Tang Lanyan, however, was a different story; such methods were completely ineffective on her. Even implanting a chip had only a marginal impact, merely instilling in her a competitive drive to "win" the act of intercourse, treating it just like a battle. To truly conquer her in bed required raw, unbridled collision—a coupling as fierce as that of wild beasts. It was a naked, sweaty affair, thick with the musky scent of arousal and slick fluids; they thrust and grappled until utterly spent, neither willing to yield or be subdued by the other.
That raw, physical clash was exhilarating—so intense that the "Pure Yang" energy within him, which had previously been at odds with his own essence, was forced to fuse with him, as if being forged into steel.
Luo Shaowen reveled in the sensation. He had once been a slave master and later operated from the shadows of the North American Council; in those roles, he had always maintained a facade of impeccable refinement and propriety, orchestrating conflicts from behind the scenes.
Yet, in his long life, he had never experienced such a violent collision of spirit and flesh—a desperate, no-holds-barred struggle. It was a novel thrill for him. While his initial motive had been to use Tang Lanyan to suppress the Pure Yang energy within, he now harbored a desire to utterly subjugate this defiant warrior queen.
Once this thought took root, it spread like wildfire. An uncontrollable possessiveness surged within him, a beast-like urge to ravage and tear apart the beauty before him. This was Luo Shaowen's true nature; the gentle, persuasive demeanor he usually displayed was merely a facade—a mask he wore.
He treated Luo Xuetang the same way. Having lived for so long, Luo Shaowen cared little for the idea of "sharing" in the short term; to him, it was merely a means to an end. Deep down, he had long since marked Xuetang as his exclusive possession.
He would stop at nothing to claim what he desired and achieve his goals. He wanted not only to make these women his own but to conquer their very souls and bodies as well. "Don't come any closer." Sister Lan-Yan's massive, full breasts—round and plump as a wasp's abdomen—heaved up and down as she fixed a cold, steely gaze upon him.
However, the flush of rosy pink blooming across her cheeks betrayed the fact that her warning was merely a bluff; seeing this, Luo Shaowen—who had initially intended to take his time—decided there was no longer any need for tedious probing.
No matter how cautious or calculating one might be, the prospect of reaping the fruits of victory inevitably brings a sense of elation, causing one to lower their final guard. Besides, he didn't believe that even a "Warrior Queen" like her stood a chance of turning the tables at this stage.
Luo Shaowen smiled, looking as though he had everything firmly under control. He regarded the unyielding Tang Lan-Yan with amused interest, much like one would watch a wild cat baring its claws and hissing.
As Luo Shaowen continued to close the distance, Sister Lan-Yan took another step back until she was practically pressed against an overturned tank behind her; the tank's gun barrel pointed directly at her back, while Luo Shaowen bore down on her from the front.
It was a scene that seemed to perfectly symbolize her current predicament!
Luo Shaowen's smile grew increasingly composed. Yet, just as the gap between them narrowed to a mere few meters, Sister Lan-Yan's expression suddenly steadied; the wavering look in her eyes vanished, replaced by the unwavering resolve and calm of an Amazonian warrior.
With a sudden, fluid twist of her slender, shapely waist—firm and resilient as a sheet of tempered steel—she swung her voluptuous, full breasts to the side. They bounced and swayed violently, the sheer power behind their movement evident even in the way they shook. Gone was the earlier air of limp, staggering frailty; her shapely, powerful arms suddenly clamped tight onto the tank's gun barrel behind her, while her long, elegant legs dug deep into the earth. The sleek, muscular contours of her body—reminiscent of a female panther—rippled and flexed intensely, her skin shimmering with a brilliant, diamond-like iridescence.
In a flash, every bead of sweat was flung from her body, leaving her skin pristine and smooth as polished jade.
The scene evoked the image of a Valkyrie; despite the staggering disparity in size, that alabaster figure hoisted the massive, heavy tank high into the air.
*Whoosh!*
The next instant, the tank—weighing tens of tons—swung around the pivot point of its gun barrel as if it were a giant hammer in Sister Lan Yan's hands, smashing down heavily toward Luo Shaowen!
*BOOM!*
Mud and dirt exploded outward. The spot where Luo Shaowen had stood was now a crater resembling the impact site of an artillery shell; the tank lay embedded in the center, its gun barrel bent and its hull twisted, while sparks crackled and showered the air.
This sudden, dramatic turn of events left not only Li Dong stunned but also the other onlookers utterly dumbfounded, plunging the entire scene into dead silence.