The numbness lingered for a long time. Only after her body finally caught its breath did Egawa Mitsuki grit her teeth and push herself upright, though her limbs still felt as boneless as a slime-tier NPC after a boss fight.
She glanced down at the signature Yūto Shō had scrawled across her left breast, brows knitting as she instinctively reached up to wipe it away. The moment her fingertips brushed the ink, however, her left breast tingled sharply—like a low-voltage jolt, yet laced with an unsettling comfort.
Her body stiffened. Something clicked into place in her mind, and her cheeks bloomed a soft peach.
….
After hesitating a beat, Egawa Mitsuki lowered her hand and tugged her bra and blouse back into place.
She reasoned it away: she had only just crested the peak, her body still humming at max sensitivity, so of course a touch to her left breast had triggered that embarrassing sensation. The autograph could be dealt with later.
She had no idea the signature itself was the culprit.
Reaching beneath her skirt, she fished out the toy egg, still buzzing faintly in her palm, a slick sheen coating its surface.
Egawa Mitsuki flushed crimson, snapped it off, and shoved it into her bag along with the other items.
Finally, she picked up the box of condoms, recalling Yūto Shō's parting words, her expression tangling into something complicated.
…
Not long after, the female driver returned. Spotting Egawa Mitsuki curled up asleep in the back seat, she assumed her young mistress was exhausted, thought nothing more of it, and drove her home.
…
After dinner, Egawa Mitsuki practiced piano in the music room for two hours, then rose and padded to the spacious bathroom to shower.
She stripped and studied herself in the mirror—porcelain skin sculpted into gentle curves, the proud, full swell of her chest, a waist slim as a willow branch, legs that ran on for days, and that cool, imperious expression that seemed to warn: look, but never dare touch.
And yet, on such a flawlessly composed canvas, a man's name sat inked in black across the left side of her chest. What had been a portrait of untouchable elegance suddenly took on a filthy, degrading flavor.
Egawa Mitsuki stared at the name. Whether from anger or something else, her proud chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm.
…
A moment later, she turned gracefully and stepped into the bathtub, sinking her delicate body into the warm water.
She sat down, and the water at just the right temperature dissolved the day's fatigue, wrapping her in a lazy comfort. But the instant her prominent left breast slipped beneath the surface, the soothing warmth flipped into something charged. Soaking that side of her chest felt indecently good.
Egawa Mitsuki drew a breath and pressed her palm to her left breast, determined to scrub the name away. The second her hand began circling over the signature, though, her breast swelled with a maddening ache, begging to be kneaded harder.
Egawa Mitsuki bit her lip and tightened her fingers. A current of pleasure radiated outward from the spot she was massaging. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her limbs going limp as she slumped against the rim of the tub, breath ragged, cheeks painted a shameless pink.
Surprise, panic, and mortification flickered through her eyes. She wanted to stop, truly she did, but her hand refused to cooperate, kneading her left breast with rougher, greedier motions.
"Mmn..." Soon her eyes squeezed shut, soft pants slipping past her lips, an obscene rush of sensation spilling from her left breast and drowning what was left of her reason.
...
On the slideshow-style playback, Tachibana Hina jerked Yūto Shō off in a rapid flash, followed by Egawa Mitsuki's in-car training session.
The final still froze on Egawa Mitsuki clutching a box of condoms, her expression complicated.
"Today's scumbag level: Outstanding."
"Scumbag Points rewarded: 300."
"Current Scumbag Points balance: 500."
"Comment: A scumbag with some noteworthy achievements."
Past midnight, the settlement interface popped up. Yūto Shō was pleasantly stunned to see today's haul had hit 300 points—his highest single-day take since acquiring the system.
Why the jump this time? Something different?
He replayed the day—how he'd sweet-talked Tachibana Hina into helping him get off. Maybe because both intimacy and forbidden boundaries had cracked open in a single session, the system had thrown him a bonus.
Then Yūto Shō pulled up the exchange shop. Today's three offerings were:
"Perfect Contraceptive Pill: 100% effective, zero harm to the body. Cost: 50 Scumbag Points."
"Bone-Softening Tendon Pill: After consumption, the user's consciousness remains crystal clear, but the body goes utterly limp, unable to move, and every nerve ending becomes hypersensitive. Cost: 50 Scumbag Points."
"Dream-Hug Pillow: Gift it to the girl you're fond of. When she cradles it while sleeping, she'll dream of scandalous scenes with you. Cost: 1000 Scumbag Points."
Without hesitation, Yūto Shō snapped up the Perfect Contraceptive Pill and the Bone-Softening Tendon Pill, dropping a hundred points total.
He then eyed the Dream-Hug Pillow with a pang of longing. That item was S-tier for grooming—when a girl fell asleep hugging it, he'd star in her wet dreams like the male lead of some late-night ecchi. And after she woke up, most girls would start wondering if maybe, just maybe, she liked him—otherwise, why would her subconscious cook up something that shameful?
But a thousand points was way out of his budget.
…
The next day was Monday. When Yūto Shō walked into the classroom, Sato Ruri was already at her desk.
The girl shot him a single glance, her face going bright red, then whipped her head back around—though the tips of her ears stayed pink as cherry blossoms.
Yūto Shō stared at the back of her head with a predatory little smirk, guessing wickedly at her recent private habits. The girl had definitely been fantasizing about him and touching herself these past few nights, considering she carried two of his signatures now, one of which sat right on her lower belly.
He pictured her buried under her comforter, fingers stroking her stomach as she whimpered his name into the dark, and his blood surged like an OP protagonist mid-power-up.
No matter what, today he had to engineer a way to get close to her, escalate the training, coax her into swallowing his more brazen advances—and then devour her whole.
Then Yūto Shō glanced at Egawa Mitsuki's seat. She hadn't come in today, and the new teacher didn't seem to register the absence, just carried on with the lesson.
….
The instant the bell rang for break, Yūto Shō pinged Sato Ruri a message.
Up front, Sato Ruri pulled out her phone, read the screen, bit her lip, then rose and slipped out of the classroom.
Yūto Shō took his time, waiting in the classroom until it emptied around him. Only then did Sato Ruri drift back in.
She hesitated at the threshold, stopped about three meters away, and knit her brows. "What did you call me back for? I'm starving—I need to go eat."
Yūto Shō ignored the bite in her tone and stood, closing the distance. The girl's face flashed with panic, as if she meant to bolt, but her feet dragged half a beat too slow. Yūto Shō caught her delicate hand.
He pulled her flush against his chest, dipped his head into her hair to breathe her in, and murmured, "Almost two whole days. Did you miss me?"
Sato Ruri's face went scarlet, and she snapped furiously, "Let go of me!"
Yet her lower belly was pressed tight to his body, and for reasons she couldn't name, an inexplicable comfort bloomed there. Her mouth barked at him to release her, but her slim waist arched forward on its own, grinding her stomach even closer against him.
The instant she caught what her own body was doing, Sato Ruri panicked internally and reflexively shoved at his chest—but Yūto Shō dipped down and sealed his mouth over hers, sucking hungrily at her lips.
"Mmm..." the girl moaned, her mouth pried apart, a stranger's tongue sliding in to catch her tender little pink one and toy with it mercilessly.
At the same moment, Yūto Shō's hand slid down, palming her lower abdomen through the fabric of her skirt. The unexplainable ecstasy shattered what composure she had left. She suddenly clung to Yūto Shō like a drowning girl, eyes squeezed shut, delicate body trembling wildly, a warm, wet sensation blooming somewhere she couldn't bear to name.