"Um... is it really okay to leave Kotonoha alone at the Busujima Dojo?"
On the drive home, Mr. Katsura hesitated for a long time before finally mustering the courage to ask.
Although Kotonoha wasn't his biological daughter, they had lived together as a family for over ten years. A bond had formed between them, and he truly regarded the gentle girl as his own flesh and blood.
"Master Busujima said that Kotonoha needs to stay with him to recuperate properly. Besides, as a Personal Disciple, she is expected to serve her Master for at least three years. That is the tradition, isn't it?"
Manami Katsura tugged irritably on the passenger seatbelt. Even though she had adjusted it to the loosest setting, the strap still dug into her chest, feeling tight and suffocating.
There was nothing she could do; her breasts were simply too big. For Manami, who carried two heavy, natural airbags on her chest, wearing a seatbelt was always a torment.
"But Kotonoha has never left us since she was little. And school is about to start... Sakakino Academy's academic standards are very strict..."
Mr. Katsura started rambling, his voice weak and whiny. To Manami, his concerns sounded like the buzzing of a fly.
"Kotonoha's future is my decision. Why are you interfering now? Do you have any idea how much I've sacrificed to give her this bright future? Just drive!"
Manami exploded instantly. Her sharp scolding immediately silenced him.
In front of Masao Busujima or the company presidents she courted, Manami was a plaything—a submissive woman to be summoned and dismissed at will. But in front of others, especially her cowardly husband, she was an autocratic queen.
"Yes! Yes!"
Mr. Katsura quickly composed himself, gripping the steering wheel and not daring to utter another word.
The car filled with a heavy silence as they drove back to their mansion on the other side of the city.
"Um... Madam..."
As he parked the car in the garage, Mr. Katsura thought for a moment, swallowed hard, and finally asked timidly.
"What is it?"
Manami felt a strange surge of annoyance at her husband's hesitant manner. Why had she chosen this kind of man as a shield in the first place? He was pathetic.
"Um... can I come to your room tonight?"
Mr. Katsura asked, his heart racing as his eyes drifted to his wife's heaving, oversized chest.
Although he was her husband in name, the number of times they had shared a bed could be counted on one hand. They had slept in separate rooms since their wedding night. Only when Manami was frustrated by her business dealings would she occasionally come back to him to vent her physical needs.
Unfortunately, Mr. Katsura wasn't exactly a stallion. Sometimes, having sex with him only made her frustration worse. Over time, he couldn't even serve as a decent "fire extinguisher."
"Go to your own room and take care of it yourself. Don't disgust me!"
Manami spat the words out with undisguised disdain. This disgusting man was thinking about those things again?
Not to mention that her lower regions were still swollen and tender from the Master's attention, even if her body were perfectly fine, she wouldn't waste it on him.
Having sex with powerful, influential men brought her benefits, status, and satisfaction. What good would it do to sleep with this useless waste of space?
"Yes! Yes! I'm very sorry!"
Reprimanded like a dog, Mr. Katsura didn't dare complain. He apologized profusely as he unlocked the doors.
"Useless!"
Manami grabbed her purse and stormed toward the house, her hips swaying seductively with every angry step.
She needed to rest properly. After all, she had to go back to the Busujima Dojo to "visit her daughter" in a couple of days.
In truth, she was a little worried about leaving Kotonoha alone there. But more importantly... the thought of returning made her shiver.
After being violently ravished by Masao Busujima for two hours three days ago, she found herself somewhat addicted to that feeling.
To make a young girl fall in love, one might need romance, flowers, and patience. But for a voluptuous, repressed mature woman like Manami Katsura, winning her over was actually very simple.
Just ravish her forcefully.
For so many years, Manami had never experienced a true orgasm. Although she had been humiliated—spilling her fluids all over the tatami mats while the Master laughed—when she lay alone in bed late at night, she would involuntarily clench her legs at the memory.
So today, when "Masao" said he wanted Kotonoha to stay at the dojo, she had agreed without hesitation.
With her daughter there, she would have a perfect excuse to visit the dojo again and again, wouldn't she?
When a woman gets hungry, there is really nothing a man can do to stop her.
Adrian naturally didn't know the specifics of what Manami was thinking, though he could guess. While he found that voluptuous milf amusing, what was more important right now was training the little heifer in front of him.
No... make that two heifers.
Adrian stood in the center of the training hall. Looking at Saeko Busujima and Kotonoha Katsura kneeling before him, one on each side, he immediately praised the damned System in his heart.
Admittedly, this Multiverse Evil System was a death trap, but he had to admit: without its help, how could a broke writer possibly have acquired a pair of beautiful cows like this?
"The ultimate secret of the Busujima Style is the unity of Mind and Sword, Body and Blade! Kotonoha, you have just become my disciple today, so I will first demonstrate the pinnacle of our art: Sword Control!"
Adrian stood tall in front of the two girls. Suddenly, he stomped his foot down hard.
Thud!
The vibration traveled through the floorboards. The katana resting horizontally on the weapon rack in front of them was jolted by the impact, bouncing into the air.
The two girls saw only a blur.
Before the sword could fall back down, Adrian had already moved. He snatched the blade from the air and slashed.
Schwing!
A chilling, invisible wave of force—Sword Energy—shot out from the blade.
The solid wooden training dummy standing in the corner, five meters away, suddenly toppled over with a heavy crash.
"Ah!"
The two girls quickly ran over to inspect the damage.
They gasped. There was a clean sword mark about two inches deep cut into the wood, nearly splitting the thick dummy in half.
"What... what was that?"
Kotonoha was stunned, her eyes wide. She was completely unaware of what had just happened. To her, it looked like magic.
"Congratulations, Father, on breaking through to the Sword Master realm!"
Saeko, however, reacted immediately. She dropped to her knees, bowing her head in awe and congratulating him.
There was a legend in the world of kendo that the ancient Sword Saint, Tsukahara Bokuden, could kill people with Sword Energy from three zhang (approx. 10 meters) away. But that was just a legend. No one in the modern era believed it was physically possible.
"Sword Energy? Is it really Sword Energy?"
Kotonoha touched the smooth cut on the dummy, muttering to herself in disbelief.
Admittedly, she hadn't quite approved of becoming Masao Busujima's disciple. She had been forced into it. But the Japanese spirit inherently admired strength above all else.
That single strike showed Kotonoha an unlimited future.
She instantly felt that although her Master seemed unconventional—and perhaps a bit scary—his strength was absolutely unparalleled. Becoming his disciple might not be a mistake after all.
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