Suginami Ward: The Master Bedroom
Seiran Mizunotsuki reached out and playfully caressed Yukino Yukinoshita's black-stockinged feet.
While Yukino's face flushed a deep, embarrassed red, Seiran was somewhat lost in thought.
So flat… no wonder they joke about her being a literal flatland. With his exponentially increased strength and God-like templates, Seiran noticed his composure had become entirely too relaxed. He was treating everything like a game.
This isn't right. To keep things entertaining, Seiran decided to prepare a few "surprises" for the political pawns he had his eye on. The surprises wouldn't be massive, but they would definitely be deadly.
"Hey! Hey!" Haruno Yukinoshita's eyes were bright, her right hand raised high like an eager student. "Can I help push from behind?"
She was a professional at this!
Yukino didn't react much to the bizarre question, still confused about the logistics of what was about to happen. But her mother, Reiko Yukinoshita, trembled violently.
Reiko was kneeling gracefully, grinding tea for Seiran, but Haruno's words made her suddenly rub her thighs in phantom pain.
Rebellious daughter! "Helping push" sounded nice in theory. But every time Haruno helped "push" during their sessions, she didn't care whether her mother could handle the depth or the pace. Haruno would push until Reiko was almost drooling, her eyes rolling back, her whole body arched like a bow.
If fragile little Yukino were to suffer this treatment on her first time, she'd probably… no, she would absolutely faint.
"I... I think these things need to be done gradually," Yukino uttered, her cool voice trembling.
Due to the intense heat of embarrassment, her voice carried a slightly burning, sticky quality. The usually aloof Ice Queen was now tinged with an indescribable, helpless shyness. This was Yukino. Even knowing she was about to be devoured, she maintained her inner resolve to negotiate.
"At least... at least you should wear protection..." she whispered, looking away.
However, Seiran waved his hand dismissively. He'd never been used to wearing such things, and his supernatural constitution made it completely unnecessary.
To celebrate claiming the Yukinoshita Grand Slam…
"Let's have a party!"
The moment Seiran spoke those words, the atmosphere in the room shifted from tense political negotiation to suffocating, primal heat.
Yukino trembled. The aloof "Ice Queen" of Sobu High School felt her carefully constructed facade melting under Seiran's predatory gaze. She instinctively tried to cross her arms over her modest chest, her face burning crimson.
"Wait… I'm not…" Yukino stammered, her voice losing all its usual sharp confidence.
But she was given no time to retreat.
"Oh, don't be shy, Yukino-chan!" Haruno giggled.
True to her earlier eager promise, Haruno scrambled across the tatami mats. She grabbed her little sister by the waist from behind, forcefully pulling Yukino back against her own plush curves. Haruno's hands expertly roamed over Yukino's school uniform, popping buttons and sliding the fabric off her shoulders with practiced, terrifying efficiency.
"Sister! Stop it!" Yukino gasped, struggling weakly. But her martial arts training felt completely useless against the suffocating, divine Yang energy radiating from Seiran. Her limbs felt like jelly.
"You have to be a good girl for Lord Mizunotsuki," Reiko Yukinoshita added, her voice thick and husky.
The proud, ambitious matriarch crawled to Seiran's side. Completely abandoning the dignified aura of the Chaebol leader she had portrayed downstairs, Reiko affectionately rubbed her cheek against Seiran's thigh like a devoted pet, demonstrating the absolute submission required of them.
Seeing her terrifying, untouchable mother reduced to such a shamelessly obedient state shattered the last of Yukino's mental defenses.
Seiran reached out, catching Yukino by the chin as Haruno stripped away the last of the pleated skirt, leaving Yukino in nothing but her black stockings and her sheer vulnerability.
"You offered everything, Yukino," Seiran said softly, his thumb tracing her trembling lower lip. "Now, prove it."
He didn't give her a chance to reply. He captured her lips in a crushing kiss.
Mmph—!
Yukino's eyes widened in shock. The moment their lips met, a searing, molten heat flooded into her mouth and rushed straight to her core. It wasn't just physical touch; it was the overwhelming, intoxicating transfer of his Supernatural energy.
Her rational mind short-circuited. The cold, logical world of books and grades vanished in an instant.
As Seiran pulled back, Yukino was left gasping for air, her eyes glazed over, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips.
"Haruno," Seiran commanded, his eyes flashing with dark amusement. "You said you wanted to push. Hold her steady."
"Yes, Master~!" Haruno chirped happily.
Haruno pressed her chest firmly against Yukino's bare back, her arms wrapping around her sister's thighs to pull her hips back, tilting Yukino into the perfect, vulnerable angle.
"No… wait, it's my first time, it's going to—AHHHH!"
Yukino threw her head back against Haruno's shoulder, a piercing, tearful cry tearing from her throat. Her slender fingers desperately clawed at the silk bedsheets as Seiran claimed her without hesitation.
The pain was sharp, but it was immediately drowned out by an overwhelming, terrifying tsunami of pleasure that bypassed her human biology entirely.
"Good girl… endure it," Haruno whispered into Yukino's ear, kissing her sister's flushed cheek while simultaneously thrusting her hips forward, literally "pushing from behind" to force Yukino to take every inch of Seiran.
"Mother… Sister… it's too much…" Yukino sobbed, her pristine, untouched body trembling violently. "I can't… I'm going to break…!"
But she didn't break.
Seiran's divine stamina was endless, and he was determined to brand the Yukinoshita family entirely as his property tonight.
As Yukino wept and lost herself in the dizzying, mindless heat, Reiko didn't remain idle. Eager to please the Emperor who held their family's fate in his hands, the mature matriarch joined the fray, offering her own experienced body alongside her daughters.
What followed was a descent into absolute debauchery.
The proud Yukinoshita women—the brilliant mother, the cunning elder sister, and the pristine Ice Queen—were reduced to a tangled, breathless mess of limbs, sweat, and desperate pleas.
Yukino quickly learned why her mother and sister looked at Seiran with such terrifying devotion. The physical sensation was completely beyond human limits. By the second hour, Yukino couldn't even form coherent words. Her mind was blank, her pride entirely obliterated. She was sobbing uncontrollably, begging for release, completely dependent on the rhythm Seiran dictated.
When the "party" finally ended, the grand slam was complete.
Yukino lay unconscious on the ruined sheets, her tear-stained face buried in Haruno's chest. Haruno was panting heavily, a satisfied, exhausted smile on her lips, while Reiko lay completely drained at the foot of the bed, her eyes rolled back in blissful stupor.
Seiran looked down at the three generations of Yukinoshita women, thoroughly conquered and stuffed like cream puffs.
He smirked, running a hand through his hair.
Now then… let's see what the Metropolitan Police Department is up to.
Tokyo: The Metropolitan Police Department (Secluded Room)
Superintendent General Hakuba smiled with deep satisfaction at Deputy Commissioner Toshio Moroboshi's report.
Moroboshi had done the exact right thing at the cult headquarters. The Fujiwara dynasty alone was far from enough to make the Metropolitan Police Department submit. The MPD's stance had to be firm, and their position had to be crystal clear:
The Metropolitan Police Department was completely and exclusively aligned with Lord Mizunotsuki. How could they allow any secular politicians to interfere with the Gods?
However, Moroboshi still had more political maneuvering to consider. "Should we help Minister Daigo Fujiwara bring down Professor Ayanokoji?"
"No." Hakuba shook his head. "No need. I don't care who sits in the Prime Minister's seat. As long as it is someone sensible who stays out of our way, that is enough. The times have changed."
The Metropolitan Police Department needed to re-examine its role in this new era.
"But Sir," Moroboshi warned, his eyes narrowing. "I heard that Professor Ayanokoji and Spencer are getting close."
Spencer?
"Which Spencer?" Hakuba asked.
"The British Diplomat."
Huh!?
Instantly, Hakuba's eyes sharpened into daggers. A foreigner? This single sentence immediately made all the high-ranking officers in the room sit up straight, their auras turning hostile.
Japan had too many secrets now. Major events concerning the Supernatural Realm were the most closely guarded secrets of the state. The MPD was still in its infancy; thanks entirely to Lord Mizunotsuki, they had managed to form two supernatural tactical forces. They didn't even have enough artifacts or cultivation methods to go around for their own officers—how could they let a foreigner take a share of the pie?
Perhaps the British didn't know anything concrete yet. But the Metropolitan Police Department was terrified of the "what if."
The last "Aristocratic Family" incident was barely covered up. After all, Japan didn't really have the environment for rogue supernatural lineages to exist openly anymore. But what if the Prime Minister of Japan personally endorsed a foreign power digging into the occult?
Atsuomi Ayanokoji.
This man was a pure, ruthless political creature. It wouldn't be surprising if he sold out his country's greatest supernatural secrets in exchange for British backing to secure his ultimate power.
"Report it to... no, never mind." Hakuba frowned, feeling that reporting mortal political squabbles to Lord Mizunotsuki was inappropriate. "If we have to trouble His Lordship with every little secular rat, what is the point of having the Metropolitan Police Department?"
"I respectfully disagree, Sir. I think reporting is still absolutely necessary," Moroboshi countered with a sharp smile. "We must show absolute transparency to our Lord. This attitude of hiding things must be corrected, as we saw with the Yukinoshita family. However... as for the specifics of how to proceed and eliminate the foreign threat, that is for the MPD to handle on our own."
Hakuba's eyes lit up in understanding. Report the threat to show loyalty, but execute the extermination themselves to prove their usefulness.
Tokyo Port: The Black Organization
The Organization members who had been dispatched to relieve Gin finally arrived at the Japanese port.
It was a stunningly beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair—Vermouth. Behind her, the towering operative known as Tequila smiled greedily as he accepted the handwritten copy of the forbidden notebook from Gin.
The two groups didn't exchange any pleasantries. They simply exchanged the encrypted copy and passed each other in the shadows of the shipping containers. Gin and Vodka boarded the vessel to leave, while Vermouth and Tequila stepped onto Japanese soil.
"That old bastard Kenzo Masuyama is dead," Tequila grunted, looking at the notebook. "With his resources gone, I'm afraid it will be difficult for us to get a foothold in Japan quickly."
Tequila wanted to keep the copy for himself, but could only watch with a gloomy face as Vermouth smoothly snatched it from his hands. Because, like Gin, she was someone the BOSS trusted implicitly.
"No rush," Vermouth replied. Her languid tone suggested she wasn't in a hurry to uncover the terrifying secrets of the Extraordinary. It was always impossible to tell what this woman was truly thinking.
The large-scale sacrifice had failed—or at least, failed halfway before the MPD intervened. So, in the BOSS's eyes, the ritual possessed incredible potential, but required a different approach. However, for this new phase in Japan, the large-scale sacrifice wasn't going to be repeated; they were pivoting to a different ritual from the book.
"By the way, do we still have intelligence members stationed in Japan?" Vermouth asked casually, as if wanting to ensure the plan's success by adding more manpower.
"Yes." Tequila nodded. "Rena Mizunashi, codename Kir."
"And?"
"And Shiho Miyano, codename Sherry."
Sherry? A playful, almost sadistic look appeared on Vermouth's face. She despised the Miyano sisters. Just as they despised her.
But the twisted progress of Masuyama's sacrifice had made the BOSS value the Organization's scientific researchers even more. Therefore, the Miyano sisters' status had been temporarily elevated to decode the biological components of the "Curse" mutations.
After mentally drafting her request for permission from the BOSS, Vermouth's playful smile deepened.
Since they are scientists, their thirst for "Knowledge" should be insatiable, shouldn't it? Let's see how Sherry handles the Truth of the World...
Tokyo: The Sawamura Residence
The Sawamura residence was a beautiful two-story villa. It wasn't lavishly decorated to the point of gaudiness, but it was elegant enough to reflect the family's immense wealth and pedigree.
Inside the villa, Sayuri Sawamura sighed, utterly exasperated by her daughter, Eriri Spencer Sawamura, who was currently locked in her room drawing another explicit doujinshi.
Although her otaku hobbies weren't a secret in the Sawamura family, the child could never just draw openly in front of her parents. Hmm… this latest plotline she's drawing seems a bit strange…
Sayuri gracefully walked downstairs.
She was elegant and dignified. But perhaps because she spent so much time helping her daughter with her manga, her petite figure, wrapped in a traditional floral kimono, carried an unexpectedly timid and alluring air.
Her face, which was seven or eight parts similar to Eriri's, was arguably even more charming than her daughter's. With an elegant folding fan opened to half-conceal her face, she carried a mature, seductive allure. She was like a petite succubus capable of instantly capturing a man's heart.
However, even succubi have their worldly troubles.
In her beautiful eyes, there was a barely perceptible worry.
Lately, Japan seemed to be in political turmoil, yet on the surface, the media reported that everything was perfectly calm. It wasn't that simple.
Sayuri's husband, Mr. Spencer, was a high-ranking diplomat at the British Embassy. The Sawamura family certainly possessed a keen sense of political undercurrents, and her husband had been having incredibly tense, secret meetings with Japanese politicians recently.
Gazing at the bright sky outside the window for a long time, Sayuri snapped her fan shut with a sigh.
I just hope the Sawamura family isn't getting involved in something we cannot control…
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