"Yes, yes, keep going!" a woman screamed, her voice dripping with depraved excitement as she slammed her hips against those of the imposing African-American man.
The sounds of their passionate embrace echoed through the room, the carnal clash of their bodies filling the confined space.
Far from deterring them, the noise seemed to fuel their fervor, adding a layer of transgression to their already sinful act.
"You love this filthy stuff, don't you?" the man teased, a smug grin on his lips.
The woman, in her mid-twenties, only responded with a hoarse, almost animalistic moan, devoid of any coherent meaning.
Her half-closed eyes, lost in ecstasy, betrayed her complete surrender to the pleasures of the flesh.
'Damn, what a slut,' the man thought, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze.
*Smack!*
A resounding slap landed on the woman's plump backside.
In response, he felt her inner walls tighten even more around his member, a reaction that spurred him on further.
Encouraged, the African-American man doubled his intensity, his hips pounding with vigor as he held her firmly in doggy style, his hands gripping her voluptuous curves.
"It's… it's too big!" she stammered, her voice trembling, teetering on the edge of exhaustion and ecstasy.
"Bigger than your man's, huh?" he growled through gritted teeth, before roughly grabbing her hair.
In a primal surge, he let himself go inside her, his ragged breath escaping his lips during his climax.
A heavy silence settled, broken only by the wet sounds and muffled moans of the woman against the bed's pillows.
Those sounds lingered in the air, like a remnant of their shared orgasm. But the reprieve was short-lived.
Because the man wasn't done.
With a fluid, almost mechanical motion, he repositioned the half-conscious woman into missionary.
Her sweat-slicked body slid beneath him, compliant, as he prepared to resume his assault, his impressive member ready to plunge back in.
But a dull thud shattered his momentum.
A crutch crashed to the floor, its clatter ringing like a death knell in the room.
A man in his late twenties stood frozen in the doorway.
His eyes, wide with shock, shimmered with unshed tears. Not a word crossed his lips, but his gaze screamed a silent agony.
"J… Joe…" the woman mumbled, sprawled on the bed, pinned beneath the weight of the imposing African-American man.
Her voice, still altered by the brutal orgasm she'd just experienced, struggled to form words.
She seemed to emerge from a fog, barely aware of the gravity of the moment.
But that flicker of clarity vanished quickly.
A new thrust drew an uncontrollable expression of ecstasy from her, her face twisting under the raw pleasure inflicted by her secret lover.
"You bastard!" Joe spat, his voice trembling with rage and despair.
Despite his disability, Joe had always heeded his father's advice—warnings about the dangers lurking in a state as "complex" as Texas.
Since childhood, his father had drilled into him that a man must protect his home, no matter what.
Those lessons, etched into his mind, had forged a fierce determination in this moment.
So, as his world crumbled, Joe pulled a gun from his waistband.
An object he never thought he'd have to use.
"Damn it, you're ruining the fun," the man said, pulling out of the woman as he faced Joe.
If someone walked into the room at that moment, they'd see a 20cm black cock aimed at Joe.
A situation that didn't exactly thrill the man.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
'He's really gonna humiliate me to the end? Why?'
As a man, Joe had a certain pride in his reproductive organ.
But this man… no, this *thing* between his legs wasn't human.
'It's… it's a heresy!'
Just as Joe was about to pull the trigger, ignoring the stranger's words—
*Bang.*
A gunshot rang out in the apartment.
"J… I… w-why?"
His second crutch fell to the floor, along with Joe Tennyson.
Blood pooled rapidly on the ground, his liver hit dead-on.
The culprit wasn't the man in front of Joe, but the woman on the bed.
She held a pair of pants often seen in urban rap videos, explaining the source of the gun.
"S-sorry *sniff* honey, b-but I… I finally feel like a real woman, and your…"
She didn't say more, but her glance at his legs said it all to Joe.
Anyone would be furious in a moment like this, but Joe wasn't angry.
He was sad and desperate.
He'd always believed he'd lived a decent life, despite his incurable illness and congenital disability.
He'd made friends, had loving parents, found a wife, and his only wish was to have a child before his death in a few years.
Yes, Joe was supposed to die before thirty, according to his doctor.
He'd held on thanks to the support of his loved ones and a disciplined lifestyle.
Now?
Joe learned that his greatest achievement—his family—was just an illusion.
"Be… cursed…"
Joe was a decent man who paid his taxes and contributed to society as best he could.
But he ended up dying at the hands of his wife because of a dick.
…
(Location: Clover Kingdom, Yvon Village)
Tap tap.
" kid… wake up. "
A gentle, distant voice echoed faintly in Joe's ears, somewhere deep in the dark.
At first, Joe tried to ignore that unfamiliar call, but it got more and more insistent.
Eventually, he decided to answer.
" I… I'm here…"
His voice came out barely above a whisper—broken and dry.
Like someone who hadn't drunk water in days.
It could only be explained by the state of this body itself… before Joe's reincarnation.
" See, Luck? He's alive. "
Those words came from the blonde woman, who looked to Joe like a silhouette standing in front of the sun.
The young blond boy behind her didn't reply with words—just nodded, keeping that stiff smile on his face.
A weirdly eerie scene… one that, sadly, would be the last thing Joe saw before slowly slipping back into the darkness.
Unlike the first time, though… these shadows felt more… welcoming.
Like sleep.
[System installation in progress…]
[Installation successful.]
[You've acquired the template System.]
[The first draw is free and will match an individual compatible with your mindset.]
[Searching…]
[You have obtained the template: Yuuto Kiba.]