As immersion mode activated, Jing Ye's vision plunged into darkness.
Before he even opened his eyes, a familiar, tantalizing scent filled his senses.
It was the same mysterious, refined fragrance he'd smelled on Big Herta earlier—rich with the air of the upper crust.
The Herta before him had the same gorgeous face as Big Herta, but she looked a shade younger, less jaded.
Not the tiny child version from the game, but a fully grown beauty in her prime. Her chest might be on the modest side, but her figure was still stunning.
And now, standing almost flush against Herta like this, he could appreciate that figure far more intimately.
He and the Herta who wanted to devour him alive were practically nose-to-nose. He had her hand pinned, her back pressed against a wall, not allowing the slightest wiggle room.
All because he'd taken Ruan Mei—Herta's one, precious friend—as leverage.
"You bastard… What do you want to do to Ruan Mei?"
Herta endured his proximity, her violet eyes overflowing with hatred.
But in the next moment, that hatred was drowned by an emotion she couldn't hide—shame.
Ignoring her glare, Jing Ye hummed a little "win win win~" tune under his breath, as if enjoying a finely crafted instrument.
The anger in Herta's beautiful eyes slowly misted over.
Her legs trembled, as though they wanted to flee—but he kept her firmly in place.
When he finally lifted his hand from her chin, Herta yanked it back and yanked her skirt down with both hands, shame burning right to the tips of her ears.
In the moonlight, her pale face dusted with drunken blush was almost enough to make him dizzy.
Seeing the lofty Herta pinned there like a toy to do as he pleased with, Jing Ye felt his breathing grow hot.
That heat brushed the small, delicate curve of her ear as he whispered:
"Herta, what do you think… Ruan Mei's style might be?"
He was clearly alluding to the trophy wall—without saying the word, he made it easy for Herta to picture exactly what he meant by "style."
He especially savored the instant her ashamed gaze turned sharp and panicked the moment he mentioned Ruan Mei's name.
The shame she felt for herself was forgotten. All she could think about was stopping him from doing anything vile to her friend.
And the more agitated Herta grew, the more Jing Ye wanted to tease her heart.
"Ruan Mei seems to like me quite a bit. She's fond of embroidery and the like…"
"If I gave her something with a nice bit of lace, do you think she'd wear it just for me?"
"Or better yet—how about I let her wear the ones I took from you?"
His murmured idea made Herta's imagination explode.
The scene he painted—herself and Ruan Mei both dragged down and humiliated—lit her temper like a fuse.
She bent down suddenly and bit down hard on the hand still pinching her face. Blood flowed at once.
But the pain only made his grin sharper. He squeezed her soft cheek, voice low and mocking:
"So you don't want her to wear them? You really are good friends—won't even let her have the chance."
Herta clearly understood what he meant, and her fury burned hotter.
"So I have to pick between her wearing it or her being humiliated by it?!"
This was exactly the moment he'd been waiting for.
The talk about dressing Ruan Mei up—or dressing her in Herta's things—was never the real plan. It was bait to get Herta to take the hook.
Once her protective instincts for Ruan Mei kicked in…
She'd be the one letting herself be strung up.
"If you don't want me bothering Ruan Mei, that's fine. But you'll have to make up for it yourself."
"If you won't let her wear them, then you… can forget about it too."
Before Herta could react, something flashed in his hand—another item stolen from her collection.
The night breeze lifted the hem of her dress. The cool air raised goosebumps all along her legs, turning her face even redder.
Seeing her hesitation, Jing Ye whispered the deciding line:
"Herta, you don't want Ruan Mei to…"
"Gh… What are you going to do…"
Grinding her teeth, Herta closed her eyes, refusing to look at him any longer.
It was a pity not to see the shame blazing in her violet eyes, but…
Jing Ye's gaze fell to the soft "clouds" of her skirt and the tightly pressed, black-stockinged legs beneath.
He smiled.
…
The night wind stirred the clouds overhead, hiding the full moon as it barreled through the trees.
Branches shook, leaves brushed together with a rustling whisper.
The wind wasn't always gentle. In its wilder moods, it became a howl, battering the trees until they creaked and groaned.
Then, just as suddenly, the gusts died away. Only the echo of their passage remained.
…
Afterward, Jing Ye wiped the blood from his hand with Herta's skirt, using it as a rag.
As for the stockings that had been flawless a short while ago…
He let the skirt fall back into place with a casual, "You can wipe the rest yourself."
"Oh, and your little tricks don't work on me. I set up interference beforehand. Your cameras are completely blocked."
He crushed the hidden micro-camera he'd taken from her, chuckling.
"Since you like recordings so much, I did you a favor."
"I prepared cameras you can't jam. They captured everything between us tonight and backed it up to my cloud storage."
"Of course, I won't give you a copy. I want to be able to pull it up whenever I feel like… reminiscing."
"Maybe I should invite Ruan Mei to watch it with me someday?"
Once again, Herta lost to him completely. Gritting her teeth, she wiped herself down with the hem of her own dress, uncontrolled anger shaking her shoulders.
When it was finally over, she clutched her skirt and shot him one last murderous glare.
…
When Jing Ye finally left immersion mode, the warmth, scent, and softness of Herta still felt like they lingered all over him.
He hadn't taken her maidenhood yet, but the trip was hardly wasted.
He was a greedy man, and the simulator had only fed his appetite—but he knew how to pace himself.
Taking what he wanted too soon would be like scarfing down a feast on the first day.
The most delicious dish should be saved for last, the most spectacular performance for the most important audience.
A performance no one sees—can it truly be called brilliant?
So he would make Herta fall in front of Ruan Mei's eyes—
Let Ruan Mei watch, in person, as Herta lost what she'd guarded so carefully.
How could that not be the ultimate humiliation?
How could Herta possibly endure it?
"Heh."
-------
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