The sensation still lingered.
It coiled beneath Stussy's skin, subtle and persistent, haunting her with ghostly aftershocks of something primal and new. Her crimson eyes shimmered faintly, a haze settling over them as the memory played again in her mind—reluctantly, vividly, addictively.
She had never expected it to feel like that.
Unbeknownst to Darren, Stussy's expertise in seduction was never born of experience. She was a clone—designed, not raised. A flawless copy of Buckingham Stussy, former member of the Rocks Pirates, created in MADS' early experiments under Dr. Vegapunk.
To ensure the success of her deep-cover role within CP0 and her eventual control over the Pleasure District, Vegapunk had encoded not only genetic enhancements into her DNA, but whole banks of knowledge. Elegant gestures, psychological tactics, bodily control, behavioral theories—all downloaded directly into her from conception.
But theory was not practice.
No amount of programming could prepare her for the disorienting flood of sensation—the loss of rhythm, the unruly chaos of touch, the feeling.
She had been a master of technique.
Until now.
"Ahem..." Darren finally broke the silence, clearly wrestling with his own curiosity. "So... why?"
He leaned forward, his tone half-playful, half-perplexed. "With your, uh, skill set, it's hard to believe that was your first time. You're the Queen of the Pleasure District! Doesn't that come with... responsibilities?"
Stussy rolled her eyes. "If I wanted to, I could drop a man into a dream state with a single bite."
She swirled her wine glass lazily between her fingers, her tone light but not flippant.
"While he's unconscious, I can manipulate his dreams. Fantasies, desires, illusions... all with just a whisper."
Darren's fork paused mid-air.
Dream manipulation? Through a bite?
His face twitched.
Thank the sea I've got the Indestructible Body... If I'd gotten trapped in some bizarre illusion—
He shuddered at the thought.
What if I'd had one of those dreams? One of those dreams?
He cleared his throat and straightened, trying not to look impressed.
"So... it really was your first time?"
"Mm."
Stussy gave a small, unapologetic nod, her lips curling into a droll smile.
"Then I..." Darren blinked, momentarily stunned.
I hit the jackpot?!
"Well then," she said softly, her gaze flicking to him, "you've gotten what you wanted."
She bit her lip, a flash of reluctant vulnerability breaking through her polished exterior. "Please keep this... between us."
Darren was about to agree when something mischievous sparked behind his eyes.
"That depends on your future behavior, Queen of the Pleasure District."
Stussy's face froze.
That bastard...
He was going to blackmail her with this—wasn't he?
Darren chuckled, cutting into his steak with theatrical nonchalance. Watching her squirm, knowing she hated being outmaneuvered, gave him no small amount of satisfaction.
Because Stussy wasn't just a woman—she was power.
An underworld empress. A CP0 elite. A clone of Vegapunk's own making. With the right handling, she could be the sharpest dagger in Darren's arsenal.
Her Pleasure District connections would give him eyes and ears across the New World.
Her CP0 affiliation meant access to secrets even most admirals weren't privy to.
And her link to Vegapunk—that was the key to everything. If he ever hoped to contact the genius behind the Indestructible Body… Stussy might be the door.
She glared at him.
"What else do you want?" she demanded. "I've already given you everything!"
Darren leaned back, swirling his wine with a casual grin.
"Want? Oh, Stussy... the list is endless."
"But for now—"
He set his glass down, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood.
"Right now, I want you."
Stussy's heart jumped.
Again?! Already?!
His earlier recklessness still throbbed through her bones like aftershocks of a quake. Her mind reeled. Her eyes widened. Her body remembered.
She rose abruptly, but Darren was already in front of her.
He gently cupped her cheek.
"You enjoyed it too, didn't you?"
She turned away, biting her lip.
He leaned in, his voice a purr.
"Why don't you use all your tricks this time? I'll go easy."
"And I promise…" he whispered, smiling like a devil, "this'll be the last time."
(Bellirys: Is there anyone who actually believes "it's the last time"? (¬‿¬))
---
An hour later, Darren strolled out of the hotel, practically glowing.
He tossed a thick stack of bills to the doorman, who bowed so deeply he nearly fell over.
Darren lit a cigar, exhaled slowly, and grinned like a man who had won everything.
Back inside, the bathroom steamed.
Stussy stood beneath the pounding shower, legs trembling, skin flushed red—not just from the scalding water.
Her cheeks burned.
Her jaw clenched.
Damn him... making me pose like that...!
She rinsed her mouth, glaring at her own reflection.
This—this—was not how things were supposed to go.
She'd spent her whole life studying, preparing, mastering control.
But the chaos Darren had brought into her life in less than a day? Unscripted. Unmanageable.
And utterly unforgettable.
It's fine, she told herself. This is the last time.
She closed her eyes.
But even as she said it, her breath hitched—just a little—and her brow furrowed, the memory returning in waves.
---
Outside, Darren wandered through the vibrant streets of the Pleasure District.
Neon lanterns swayed. Laughter echoed from izakayas. Casino bells rang in the distance. Women in silk kimonos whispered promises behind painted fans.
It was a city of shadows wrapped in silk.
Behind every curtain, blood had once been spilled.
Fortunes made. Empires born.
Darren watched it all with a predator's eye.
Now, with Stussy's support, he could start taking pieces—one district at a time. The underworld could be his.
He was already calculating.
And then—
"Mr. Gill! You're back! We missed you so much!"
A chorus of high-pitched voices called out flirtatiously from around a corner.
Darren raised a brow.
Mr. Gill? What kind of idiot uses a name like that?
He turned, mildly amused—
And his smirk died on the spot.
His cigar nearly fell from his lips.
"T-Tokikake?!"
To be continued...