Last came her socks... one by one, the garments covering her body were removed by her own hands, neatly folded, and placed on the carpet beside her.
Finally, only her most intimate undergarments remained.
She hesitated for several seconds, but ultimately removed those as well.
Her flawless body—like the finest white porcelain—was laid bare without reservation under the suite's bright lights, under Seiji's scrutinizing gaze.
The cold air raised goosebumps across her exposed skin.
She stood there like a statue that had lost its soul.
Seiji's gaze swept slowly across her body.
The desire in his eyes flashed briefly before giving way to appraisal.
This objectifying gaze made Sakiko feel even more humiliated and cold than one filled with lust would have.
"Very good."
After a long moment, Seiji nodded with satisfaction.
"It seems this investment was worth every yen."
He walked up to Sakiko, gripped her delicate chin with his fingers, and forced her to look up.
"Now, as a final step, show me your sincerity in this transaction." Seiji smiled mockingly. "First, use that pretty little mouth of yours... If you don't know how, here's an instructional video. Learn as you go."
With that, he tossed a tablet to her.
Sakiko caught it. On the screen was a video—she only glanced at it for a few seconds before finding it unbearable to watch.
Using her mouth... for that?
Wait—swallowing it?
Why would anyone make a face like they wanted more?
Miss Sakiko felt her entire worldview being violently shaken.
If the earlier strip inspection had trampled her dignity, this request was naked humiliation!
No! Absolutely not!
How could she possibly do something like that?
Thoughts of resistance grew like weeds in her mind.
But... that contract bearing her signature and thumbprint. That useless drunk of a father still waiting for money. Those yakuza thugs.
Scene after scene flashed rapidly through her mind, battering her will to resist until it crumbled.
Seiji didn't rush her. He simply watched her quietly, like a patient hunter admiring prey struggling uselessly in a trap.
She would submit.
Because Sakiko Toyokawa had no way out.
After what felt like an eternity—a century perhaps—Sakiko's trembling body finally stilled. Her shoulders slumped, as if something had been completely drained from her.
She slowly closed her eyes.
She stopped thinking, stopped feeling, stopped struggling. She turned herself entirely into a soulless shell that only knew how to follow orders.
"...I understand." Sakiko answered stiffly.
Under Seiji's calm gaze, she sank to her knees.
His eyes fell upon her slightly trembling spine.
"Good." A smile curved Seiji's lips. He sat on the sofa, casually brushing aside the hair falling over her face to admire that pale, bloodless, yet still devastatingly beautiful face.
Sakiko's hands trembled as she unfastened his belt. When his thick, hard cock sprang free, she flinched—it was bigger than she'd imagined, intimidating in its size. She glanced at the video again, then back at him, her face flushing with shame.
She parted her trembling lips, eyes squeezed shut, long lashes quivering.
"Look at me." Seiji spoke again.
Sakiko's body jolted. She didn't want to open her eyes.
"I said, look at me."
His voice carried an edge of cold.
Sakiko's heart lurched. She didn't dare refuse. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Those amber eyes—once gentle and bright—were now filled with humiliation, rage, and a trace of pleading she herself wasn't even aware of.
She was like a captured butterfly with broken wings, trembling helplessly.
There was no mercy in Seiji's eyes. Only satisfaction.
Those eyes were perfect.
"Good."
Seiji nodded approvingly, then placed his hand on Sakiko's head without the slightest gentleness.
"Don't let your teeth touch it, Sakiko."
Mmph...
Sakiko whimpered, her expression pained as she tried to take him in. His cock stretched her lips obscenely wide, and she gagged almost immediately as he pushed deeper. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to follow what she'd seen in the video—hollowing her cheeks, using her tongue, trying not to choke.
After a while.
Following what she'd seen in the video, Sakiko completed what was required—though her face showed no trace of desire.
Only disgust. Pure revulsion.
"We're not done yet, Sakiko. Don't slack off." Seiji urged.
"Cough cough..."
Sakiko coughed uncontrollably, thick ropes of his cum dripping down her chin. But she had no choice but to follow the video's continuation—cleaning up the aftermath with her tongue.
This only made her expression more wretched.
After everything was done.
Sakiko seemed to have lost her soul, her expression vacant.
She completed everything on her first try?
Seiji was somewhat pleasantly surprised, thinking to himself: As expected of a noble young lady—this dedication and effort far surpasses ordinary people.
As these amused thoughts ran through his mind, Seiji bent down.
Before Sakiko could react, he swept her up in his arms.
"Ah!"
The sudden weightlessness drew a short cry from her.
"I've seen your sincerity. Now it's time for the main event." Seiji carried her through the spacious living room toward the bedroom.
Sakiko's face was buried against his chest, her head still spinning with nausea and dizziness.
She knew what was coming next.
She hated it.
But she had to endure.
Just like enduring the unreasonable abuse at the call center. Just like enduring her father's drinking and incompetence.
Yes!
As long as... as long as she endured, it would be over.
She just needed to close her eyes, detach her consciousness from her body, treat it as an object unrelated to herself, and let him do whatever he wanted.
The bedroom door was pushed open.
Seiji walked to the bed and, without a shred of tenderness, tossed the girl in his arms onto it.
She curled up on the massive bed like a fish thrown onto shore, helpless and small.
Seiji wasted no more words.
The instant his unfamiliar body—burning hot—pressed down upon her, Sakiko trembled violently and squeezed her eyes shut.
She clenched her teeth, desperately trying to withdraw her consciousness.
At first, the method worked.
Though she could feel Seiji's presence, the sensation was distant and hazy.
But she had vastly underestimated Seiji.
He saw through her strategy instantly.
His movements became highly purposeful.
His hands descended with expertise, as if he knew her body better than she did, awakening slumbering desires bit by bit.
"No... don't..."
She wanted to resist, but was no match for Seiji's strength.
More terrifying still, her body responded beyond her control—waves of electric current rippled through her, tingling sensations spreading rapidly until they reached every limb.
"Don't?" Seiji laughed. "But your body seems to be saying something different."
Sakiko bit her lip in frustration.
No!
This can't be happening!
This is a transaction!
How can I be feeling anything?!
Sakiko screamed internally, desperately trying to hold back.
But before primal pleasure, reason was utterly powerless.
He pushed into her slowly at first, letting her feel every inch as he stretched her open. She gasped at the burning pain of her virginity being taken, but even that couldn't mask the unwanted pleasure building inside her.
"So tight," Seiji murmured against her ear, his hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm. "Your body's far more honest than your mouth, Sakiko."
She wanted to deny it, to curse him, but each thrust drove the words from her mind. Her hips began moving on their own, matching his rhythm despite everything screaming in her head to stop.
Finally, with one violent shudder—
Her soul seemed to be hurled into the heavens.
Humiliation, rage, defiance...
And that pleasure which made her wish she could die on the spot—the pleasure that had betrayed her very soul...
All those violent, contradictory emotions reached their peak in that moment.
Finally, they converged into scalding liquid that gushed forth as she came hard around his cock.
How long had passed, she couldn't say.
The room returned to deathly stillness.
Seiji rose and walked into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water could be heard.
He seemed perfectly at ease, as if what had just ended was merely an invigorating workout.
But Sakiko, lying on the massive bed, was like a broken doll.
She lay motionless, eyes empty as they stared at the ceiling, letting tears of humiliation slide down her face.
Her body was sore and aching everywhere, marked from being thoroughly ravaged.
But what hurt more than her body was Sakiko's heart.
Her pride, her will, her soul... all of it had been utterly crushed by that man in their battle just now—crushed using methods she despised and scorned.
She had lost.
Lost completely.
Meanwhile.
In the bathroom.
A notification chimed in Seiji's mind.
[Ding!]
[First-time capture of Toyokawa Sakiko detected.]
[Stage One reward received: List of highly skilled, honest, and desperate Japanese medical professionals!]
A list of doctors, huh?
Seiji dried his hair and walked out of the bathroom.
He chose to receive the information.
Soon, a virtual screen only he could see appeared before his eyes.
On it were files on numerous doctors.
Seiji focused his thoughts and pulled up three of them at random.
[Mishima Tsukiki, 35, genius surgeon. Refused to perform a high-risk "vanity surgery" for a medical group executive and openly confronted them. Was maliciously blacklisted and banished to a remote community hospital, where he now handles nothing but colds and fevers. His dragon-slaying skills have no outlet.]
[Shiraishi Rina, 29, top immunologist. Her research on "induced immune cell regeneration" was stolen by her advisor and published. She was then framed for academic fraud. Due to her introverted personality and poor social skills, she's been completely ostracized in academia, and her research project was forcibly terminated.]
[Sato Kengo, 32, pharmaceutical genius. The new broad-spectrum antiviral drug he developed was shelved by executives because its high production cost threatened the company's flagship drug profits. He was transferred out of core R&D on charges of "insubordination," now doing nothing but data organization.]
Perfect.
Seiji nodded to himself.
His medical group was in need of skilled doctors.
Megumi handled everything before dawn.
A briefcase containing five million yen in cash.
And a clean, neatly folded Haneoka Girls' Academy uniform.
Sakiko dressed like a soulless doll, mechanically accepting the briefcase and documents.
From start to finish, she never looked at Seiji again. She didn't say a single word.
Megumi escorted her to the hotel lobby, where a black luxury sedan was already waiting.
"Toyokawa-san, please get in. The driver will take you home."
Sakiko got into the car numbly.
"Also, the debt has been transferred to Fujiwara-sensei. You don't need to worry about yakuza coming to collect anymore." Megumi said softly.
Sakiko's eyes flickered slightly. She said nothing, just closed the door.
The car started.
Driving through the empty pre-dawn streets.
Sakiko's face was ashen as she stared blankly at the passing scenery outside.
Just then, the phone in her pocket buzzed.
She pulled it out mechanically. On the screen was a message from Wakaba Mutsumi.
[Mutsumi: Sakiko, I'm sorry. I tried my best, but I could only scrape together another hundred thousand. That's three hundred thousand total—I know it's not much, but I'll get it to you as soon as I can.]
Reading this message, Sakiko let out a hollow laugh.
Mutsumi's kindness and concern were meaningless.
Just three hundred thousand was meaningless, Mutsumi.
Sakiko's fingers flew across the screen, typing a quick reply before hitting send.
[Sakiko: It's okay. It's already been resolved.]
[Mutsumi: Really?]
[Sakiko: Yes, really.]
[Mutsumi: That's wonderful.]
The car stopped in front of that familiar, decrepit apartment building.
Sakiko dragged her exhausted body up the stairs.
She pushed open the door, and the familiar smell of alcohol hit her face.
Her father, Toyokawa Kiyotsugu, was sprawled on the tatami like a puddle of mud, dead to the world.
Sakiko walked to the center of the living room and dropped the black briefcase containing five million yen heavily onto the table.
The loud thud startled her sleeping father awake.
He lifted his head groggily. When he saw the briefcase on the table—cracked open to reveal stack after stack of ten-thousand yen bills—his eyes went as wide as saucers.
"Money...?!"
He scrambled on all fours to the table, hands trembling as he caressed the bills, his face a mask of wild joy and disbelief.
"It's... it's the old man?! The old man came through!"
"I knew it!"
"I knew he still loved his only granddaughter!"
He laughed maniacally while clutching stacks of cash to his chest, kissing them like a lover.
"This is great! I'm saved! I'm saved!"
He didn't notice his daughter's ashen face or empty eyes.
Toyokawa Kiyotsugu excitedly grabbed a fistful of money from the briefcase, stuffed it carelessly into his pockets, and stumbled toward the door.
"I'm going to celebrate! I'm going to win back everything I lost!"
Like a gambler who'd just received a massive inheritance, he couldn't wait to rush toward another den of vice.
Sakiko stood there quietly, watching his euphoric back disappear through the door.
The look in her eyes went completely cold.
Not a trace of emotion remained.
No anger, no disappointment, not even sadness.
Only ice.
This so-called "home"—this place she had once fought so hard to protect—no longer held anything worth her attachment.
At the same time.
In the dim on-call room of a community hospital.
A man in a white coat stared at his hands—hands that should have held a scalpel but now only wrote prescriptions for cold medicine—eyes burning with frustration and resentment.