Early the next morning, before dawn had even broken.
I looked over at Yan Peiyu, who was fast asleep beside me. Her sleeping face looked exceptionally pleasant in the faint morning light, and I couldn't resist planting a kiss on her pristine lips. "What a cute sleeping posture."
The exact moment I chose to bite into that "blood-red apple," I originally thought my life would just be this—like a gecko lurking in the shadows, forever doing stealthy, underhanded things in the crevices of society just to satisfy a few base desires that could never see the light of day. Just like my pre-death self, holed up in a room watching videos and masturbating, completely devoid of dignity.
But once I truly mastered the capabilities of the "SoulCutter," the path ahead opened up entirely.
I no longer needed to hide. I could take the partners I desired and openly trample the rules. Only then did I realize: since this world never intended to accept me, I would gladly become the Demon at war with the entire world. This wasn't merely for survival; this was to engineer a thoroughly decadent kingdom belonging exclusively to me.
Teacher Guo was also lying quietly beside me in an elegant posture. I forcefully pried her thighs apart, intending to use my hammer to ring her physiological alarm clock. Amidst a wave of unconscious, lewd moans, Guo Ruonan elegantly woke up, her thighs—which I had just forced wide open—returning to her usual demeanor of a Chinese teacher.
"Boss, today's scheduled on-duty students are Wang Miya and Guo Zhenzhen, with Chemistry Teacher Qiu Xiaoqing acting as the accompanying faculty."
The moment Secretary Yan finished her brief, I waved my hand, signaling for Huang Meihua, Xie Qingyan, and Guo Ruonan to take their leave. "Good work." I watched their departing figures; Huang Meihua and Xie Qingyan’s mouths were opening and closing reflexively. Evidently, last night's high-intensity, all-night "high-protein supplementation" had left their masseter muscles completely sore.
I leaned back on the sofa and waited. Right then, a heavy engine rumble echoed from outside the dormitory. An onyx-black Rolls-Royce "Cullinan" slowly glided into view like an elegant titan, coming to a steady halt right at the dormitory entrance.
"Are they here?"
Unable to suppress the anticipation in my chest, I dashed forward before the Cullinan had even come to a complete stop. I wanted to see what kind of shattered expression this high-and-mighty megastar would make when ambushed.
The car door pulled open, and Wang Miya sat alone in the luxurious rear seat, the fragrance of her perfume wafting over. Granting her zero window to react, I flipped inside and pinned her down, my large hands crudely forcing her legs apart. Reaching beneath her gossamer-thin lace panties, I slid the fabric to the side, but the sight before my eyes made me instantly freeze.
That mysterious little mound was trimmed perfectly clean, and under the dim interior lighting of the vehicle, I could clearly discern that seal of purity—an unbroken hymen.
"In this day and age... a massive celebrity is actually still holding onto her first time?"
Reflecting on how I had played all day yesterday surrounded by various mature teachers and students without encountering a single virgin, I couldn't help but marvel at destiny's sense of humor.
The burning offensive lust in my chest instantly mutated into a near-pathological urge for total possession. Unboxing an exquisite "grand prize" like this casually in the back seat of a car would be a terrible waste of her premium status. I clamped onto the back of her head, my tongue crudely invading her mouth to lock her into a suffocating, deep kiss.
Only after a long while did I reluctantly withdraw my frame, wiping the residual moisture from the corner of my lips with a cold smirk as I stepped out of the vehicle.
"On-duty personnel, assemble!"
I barked the directive in a deep tone. Secretary Yan adjusted her glasses, cradling that laptop that never left her side, the corner of her lips curving into a meaningful, near-excited arc. Clearly, she possessed absolute confidence in today's roster.
"Boss, everyone has reported in. Allow me to introduce today's on-duty personnel."
"Wang Miya, Class 3-B."
Following Secretary Yan's announcement, my chilling gaze locked onto Wang Miya. Her talent agent, Xu Zhiping, guarded her side like an old hen, her eyes seasoned and sharp, packed with defenses against the unwritten rules of the entertainment industry. I snorted inwardly; I had zero intention of inducting a calculating woman like that into my harem, but perhaps she could serve a purpose down the line to help establish connections—networking was always a requirement.
"Miya is the campus idol of Chih-Kuo High, currently conquering both film and television with countless representative works. Her current system-audited rating is—SR-grade."
"SR-grade??" I murmured internally, my eyes locked onto Wang Miya's near-flawless face, a visage tempered under a thousand spotlights. How could a ceiling-tier asset standing on a pedestal like that only register as an SR? Had something gone wrong with Secretary Yan's Appraiser's Eyes?
Just as the doubt crossed my mind, Yan Peiyu abruptly halted her presentation. She pushed her glasses up, leaning her upper body forward slightly as her eyes locked onto the metrics flashing across her laptop screen, her tone carrying a hint of unhideable excitement:
"Boss, look right here... I’ve discovered that Wang Miya’s status bar coloration is entirely distinct from the rest of us. This particular hue... it appears to denote some type of 'rare breed'."
"A rare breed?" A playful smirk curved on my lips.
"It is exceptionally rare... a deep, profound purple that projects a dark, sinister quality," Secretary Yan turned her head toward me, the depths of her eyes flashing with a frenzied desire for knowledge. "If we can successfully exploit this asset, there’s no telling what kind of incredible taboo ability she might awaken. Boss, this is prime material for a top-tier experiment..." Based on prior data, whenever an SR-grade awakened, an extraordinary ability invariably manifested.
Beside her, Guo Zhenzhen was still staring at her idol with eyes full of adoration, while the pure, newlywed teacher, Qiu Xiaoqing, nervously twirled her fingers. Neither of them had any inkling that the impending events on this campus would completely upend their worldview.
"A rare breed, is it..." Sensing the agitation of the "SoulCutter" within my veins, I issued the directive: "Initiate the audit sequence. I want to see exactly what kind of malice is sealed inside this pedestal-dwelling black pearl."
"Accompanying her is Guo Zhenzhen from Class 2-C," Secretary Yan continued. "Rating: R-grade, mediocre academic performance. She is Wang Miya’s number-one fanatic, and her ultimate aspiration in life is to have close-quarters contact with her idol."
I glanced at Guo Zhenzhen, whose face was flushed crimson as she stared at Wang Miya with worship. Turning to look at Secretary Yan, I thought about how thoroughly wicked this woman's mindset was. Forcing an idol and her little fangirl to kneel together beneath my desk, performing a synchronized "smoke and fog" sequence for my pleasure—the sheer contrast of humiliation and taboo was enough to make my blood boil by thought alone.
"Finally, our accompanying faculty member, Qiu Xiaoqing. A chemistry instructor and universally recognized as the school's goddess of purity. She just got married last month and currently commands immense popularity among the students. Rating: S-grade."
Observing them silently, I found the logic governing the Appraiser's Eyes highly intriguing. In terms of tenure and aura, these instructors possessed the latent criteria for SR-grade, yet the absolute majority ultimately settled at S-grade. It appeared that "age" and "marital status" carried immense weight calculations within the Appraiser's Eyes—while the label of a pure人妻 (married woman) was tantalizing, within this soul-centric domain, it apparently calculated as a form of depreciation.
I narrowed my eyes, my gaze sweeping across Qiu Xiaoqing's face, a countenance so pure it looked like it could drip water. Locking onto that gleaming wedding band on her ring finger, a torrent of savage malice surged in my heart. To hell with grades and metrics; in the face of the taboo pleasure of "stealing another's love," everything else had to take a back seat.
At this moment, I resembled a panther concealed within the brush, poised to strike a gazelle, every muscle in my body vibrating with intense excitement.
"Teacher Qiu," I murmured, slowly advancing toward her, my footsteps echoing with heavy gravity within the silent dormitory. "I understand you just got married last month?"
Teacher Qiu Xiaoqing instinctively took a step back. "Yes, Boss," she replied with absolute deference, her face returning to its characteristic pure expression.
"Excellent." I came to a halt right in front of Teacher Qiu, close enough to catch the subtle, cool fragrance radiating from her body. It intertwined with Wang Miya's striking celebrity perfume, engineering a thoroughly decadent scent.
I looked at these three females of completely disparate identities: a rare megastar pending exploitation, a brain-dead fangirl, and a terrified, newlywed wife. This composition was simply the most flawless piece of art in existence.
"Deploy to class," I uttered flatly.
Our contingent exited the dormitory, stepping into Class 3-B of the academic building. I calmly took my place behind my custom executive desk, while Wang Miya emerged elegantly, sporting a magnificent princess hairstyle and executing precise, refined strides. This was the flawless persona engineered for her by her talent agency—noble, sacred, and untouchable.
During the brief five-minute pre-class window, the classroom erupted into a frenzy. Rounds of applause and gasps of admiration echoed continuously. The fangirl, Guo Zhenzhen, was so agitated her entire face flushed crimson, as though merely standing beside her idol allowed her to absorb a fraction of that starlight.
Surrounded by the crowd, Wang Miya radiated her celebrity aura like a perfect marionette executing corporate instructions with absolute precision. However, the exact moment she turned to acknowledge the room, her line of sight cut across the dense crowd and locked directly with mine.
In that split second, her icy, detached front collapsed entirely, replaced by a near-frenzied gratitude and profound adoration. Deep within those bright eyes, I deciphered a silent scream: 'Only by your side am I truly alive.' To her, I was the solitary salvation, the exit code that could grant her freedom and allow her to escape that golden cage labeled "Idol." She was desperate to pour decades of accumulated repression entirely onto me alone.
Immediately following her grand public reveal, she executed a highly practiced, covert maneuver, swiftly diving straight beneath my crotch.
This miniature workspace beneath the executive desk was her exclusive safe harbor. Right under the eyelids of her adoring admirer, Guo Zhenzhen, Wang Miya curled into the darkness of the desk's shadow—the exact location she desired to occupy most in this life. Her beautiful cherry mouth went to work with maximum efficiency; to repay the "freedom" I had granted her, she deployed her entire consciousness to execute this shift of duty reserved solely for me.
"Milord... my King..."
She whimpered softly, her voice carrying a pathological pleasure that had been suppressed to the absolute limit. I looked down, meeting her eyes which were tightly woven with worship and madness. Conditioned from youth to exist as a marionette, she had mastered a camouflaging capability that could deceive the entire world, but before me, that shell shattered completely into dust.
Her thin silk panties had long been thoroughly soaked through with her fluid, clinging tightly between her legs. Her hands trembled as she pulled down my zipper, resembling a desert traveler encountering an oasis, or a piranha catching the scent of blood. She began by frantically licking at those twin spheres before opening that cherry mouth coveted by tens of thousands, swallowing my massive root into her throat like a treasured prize, vacuuming it with her entire life force.
This was a service fueled by absolute vengeance. She sought to convert a lifetime of corporate manipulation into total submission to me.
However, just as the torrential waves of pleasure were about to breach the gates, right when the white turbid payload was poised to flood the depths of her throat, the surrounding air suddenly froze solid.
A jolt of alarm hit me. Wang Miya’s pupils contracted violently within the darkness, suddenly erupting with the radiant glow of a dark-purple hexagram. That illumination carried a suffocating aura of "misfortune," as though countless resentful spirits were whispering beneath the desk.
"Secretary Yan! Audit her status immediately!" I barked in a hushed tone.
Beside the desk, Yan Peiyu's expression turned grim, her blue pupils snapping online as her detection anomalous passive initialized.
"SR-grade, Soul Mass: 734... Wait! Boss! Wang Miya's metrics are fluctuating erratically!" Yan Peiyu's voice began to tremble. "768... 833... 1033...! Boss, this is statistically impossible!"
Wang Miya continued to suckle with absolute desperation, emitting muffled, throbbing whimpers. Her long-suppressed psyche resembled a sealed pressure cooker heated to the absolute maximum; through that solitary fracture labeled "freedom," dark energy was erupting at a geometric, exponential rate.
"2038... 3153... 5384!"
Purple-black mist began to spill from beneath the desk, looking as though it might swallow the entire classroom structure. Finally, the exact beat the numbers locked into place, that turbulent aura imploded back into her form. Wang Miya’s pupils shifted from dark purple back to that pure, tantalizing idol-pink, but deep within her gaze, something materialized that sent a chill down my spine.
"Report the current parameters..." Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
Yan Peiyu's face was completely drained of color. She took two steps back, her voice saturated with an unprecedented terror:
"Boss... it appears we have manually engineered a monster. Grade: Awakened SSR. Specialized Capability: Hypnotist. Soul Mass: 5384."
I looked down at Wang Miya beneath the desk. She was elegantly wiping the residual mess from the corner of her mouth, flashing a sweet, flawless smile up at me. For the first time, a dread of "losing control" surfaced in my heart.
Wang Miya’s eyes curved into beautiful crescents, carrying that chilling, residual pink glow as she peeked her head out from the shadow of the desk. Licking away the remaining white fluid from her lips, her eyes drifted ghost-like toward Teacher Qiu Xiaoqing standing beside me, and then toward the English Teacher, Wang Zhenzhen, up on the lecture platform, her face anchored by an enigmatic smile that no one could read or parse.