From the entryway to the living room, and then from the living room to the master bedroom.
Kei’s clothes, shoes, and socks were strewn all along the way.
Over an hour later, Makoto’s breathing leveled out.
Seeing her cute face looking dazed and drooling, he couldn’t help but smile and press his upper body against hers again, intimately close amidst the sweat.
The girl’s flushed lips were slightly parted.
Within her slightly hoarse whimpers, she exhaled hot, sweet breaths.
“Kei.”
“Mmm~”
“Bark like a dog for me?”
“?”
Kei was still immersed in a state of pleasure.
After being stunned for several seconds upon hearing his words, the girl regained a bit of clarity.
Both shy and annoyed, she bit the man’s ear and squeezed out a few puppy-like whimpers from her throat.
“Wooo…”
But as Makoto gently stroked the scar on her lower abdomen, those faked puppy whimpers suddenly became hurried.
“Don’t…!”
That scar was her psychological barrier.
It represented the shadow of her past bullying.
Normally, she would do her best not to let her boyfriend see the scar.
But for some reason, Makoto actually liked to stroke it, and at the height of passion, he would even lick and bite it, as if attempting to overwrite the psychological shadow represented by the scar with pleasurable stimulation.
This form of psychological therapy was very effective.
Accompanied by intense whimpering and trembling, Kei’s long legs coiled around him like a passionate beauty python.
Her hands also pressed firmly against his lower back.
Her ten fingers were held straight.
…
After helping his exhausted girlfriend bathe, changing the bedsheets, and taking a cold shower himself, Makoto sat down in a corner of the living room with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
He opened a bottle of Perrier-Jouët.
Aside from the beautiful bottle that attracted girls, the aroma of this champagne was actually quite good.
The freshness of green apple and lemon zest, mixed with the delicate scents of cream and hay bales, was the type he liked.
The ice-cold wine traveled from his mouth to his entire body, bringing a wave of refreshment.
At the same time, it was mixed with the pleasure of having conquered a young girl.
Through the floor-to-ceiling window, Makoto looked down at Tokyo’s night scene from his high vantage point.
He thought that with his income from his previous life, he would probably have to save money for a hundred and twenty years without eating or drinking to buy a place like this in Tokyo’s Minato City, where land is as expensive as gold—and even then, he might not be able to afford it.
His current life was something he wouldn’t have dared to even dream of in the past.
And this level of enjoyment was now merely his starting point.
“No wonder everyone loves getting something for nothing.
Splurge when you have money, and when you don’t, just teleport into a bank vault to take some more, then go back to splurging.
This immoral, disgusting life—I fucking love it!”
Eat well, play well.
Squander, be carefree.
Money is exactly that kind of thing.
It can make a person happy, but it can also corrupt their morals.
Those who say money is just dirt are either so rich that it’s just a number to them, or they are dirt themselves.
Fortunately, Makoto didn’t have much morality to begin with, and after obtaining his Golden Finger, his respect for the law vanished completely.
He didn’t want the money of the poor.
He focused his havoc specifically on the bank vaults of major nations.
Finishing the champagne in his glass, Makoto arrived at the study door.
This room was locked tight; his figure flickered on the spot, and in the next moment, he was already inside the room.
Behind the study door stood a full-length mirror.
The young man stood before the mirror wrapped in a bath towel, looking at himself in the reflection, slightly dazed.
He wasn’t too tall, exactly 1.8 meters.
His facial features were delicate, his temperament mature, and he had a very approachable smile; however, when he wasn’t smiling, a slight squint would give people a bone-chilling, cold, and sharp feeling.
A smiling tiger?
A refined scoundrel?
An ambitious look of a hawk or wolf?
Makoto couldn’t quite describe his own looks, only feeling they were passable—certainly no match for those idols—but he was quite confident in his physique; besides being a typical clothes horse, he was also quite muscular.
His muscles weren’t as exaggerated as a fitness coach’s.
His muscle lines were perfect and smooth, full of elasticity and flexibility, with a special texture that easily brought to mind ancient Greek sculptures, containing a sense of continuous power.
In other words, it could keep Kei in a state of ‘female levitation’ for several hours.
This wasn’t an effect achievable through ordinary exercise, but power he gained by allocating points through his Golden Finger.
“I hope a newcomer arrives in the co-transmigration space today.”
Although the arrival of every newcomer meant the death of another self.
But they could all serve as nourishment for Makoto.
Deep Blue, let me see your limit (×)
Other mes, let me see the limit of your corpses (√)
The co-transmigration space was his primary way of becoming stronger; even so, Makoto would set aside a lot of time every day to study and strengthen himself.
Inside this keyless study, several shelves were set up; one held large amounts of currency from various countries and gold bars, while another held many daggers and military bayonets.
Other shelves held many different types of handguns, submachine guns, sniper rifles, and other firearms, as well as various types of ammunition sorted into categories.
In addition, there was plenty of military equipment scavenged from various US military bases, and even quite a few chemical weapons banned by the United Nations.
Besides these items, the three walls were covered with photos from all over the world—natural scenery and cultural landmarks, packed so densely that an outsider might think Makoto was a fanatical travel enthusiast.
In fact, these photos were related to his ability.
Jumper—a superpower inherited from another self; simply put, it was spatial teleportation, but unlike conventional spatial movement, it didn’t require overly complex positioning.
He only needed the image of that place to surface in his mind—he didn’t even need to know the latitude and longitude, just a general impression—then concentrate, and in the next moment, he could appear directly in that place.
Whether it was a teleport of a few meters, or from the North Pole to the South Pole, or even from space to Earth.
None of it was a problem.
Having mastered such an ability, Makoto could completely tour famous attractions all over the world in a single day; for instance, surfing in the ocean one moment, sunbathing on top of the Sphinx the next, and feeling the London rain atop Big Ben the moment after that.
Do whatever he wanted.
Go wherever he wanted.
Combined with high-powered modern military weapons, he could fully claim to be the most terrifying assassin of all time.
But he happened to be very low-key, letting no one know of his ability.
Because Makoto knew that during those dozens of seconds he spent in space, he was likely captured by satellites.
Perhaps the powers of various major nations were secretly searching for him.
Another version of himself died because he was too reckless, so Makoto decided to live as low-key as possible until he gained more power.
Next, his plan was to practice self-defense and killing techniques daily, then wait for new corpses to arrive in the co-transmigration space while hunting for beauties in this wonderful 2D world.
Since there was a bright path ahead, there was no need to rush.
Life needs to be enjoyed properly.
“…Oh, a newcomer is here.”