Chapter 134
Chapter 134
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 134
Chapter Title: Dr. Kim Seolgi's Interview
-----------------------------------------------------------------
IM, you bastard, and you fucking bitch.
Dr. Kim Seolgi.
She had laid everything bare about herself.
I listened to her horrific yet captivating confession, and I got perfectly hard.
With a satisfied smile, I nodded toward my crotch at Choi Yang, who stood shadow-like by my side.
As always, with that expressionless face that showed no interest in the world, she quietly and familiarly ducked under the table.
I savored the sensation while gazing at Dr. Kim Seolgi right in front of me.
Instead of jealousy at my actions, Dr. Kim Seolgi wore an anxious face filled with questions.
"...Did I... fail the interview?"
"No. You'll continue to be in charge of the Alzheimer's treatment drug from now on."
I reassured her.
At the same time, I made it clear that I was the one setting her value.
The final piece of the Alzheimer's treatment puzzle had been provided by me.
I had bestowed upon her the 'answer' derived from my post-nut clarity brain, and the new drug was already developed in her hands.
All that was left were the tedious animal trials, clinical trials, paper publications, and legal procedures.
Honestly speaking, at this point, the reason 'Dr.' Kim Seolgi was needed for this project was just that one business card of hers: 'trusted researcher' built over the past several years.
And that business card didn't even need to have the name 'Kim Seolgi' on it.
As if reading my thoughts,
the smart woman, Kim Seolgi, wore a relieved expression at the 'honor' I had permitted and asked again.
"First of all... thank you for 'using' me. And... what is the rest of the 'interview' about?"
"You think I'd end it with just the Alzheimer's drug? You don't strike me as that kind of character."
I slowly stroked the back of Choi Yang's neck under the table, as if petting a favored cat, while her soft touch caressed me.
Keeping my gaze fixed solely on Kim Seolgi, I grinned.
I could see a new desire blooming over her anxious face.
Yes, the real 'interview' started now.
"From now on, explain why I should keep 'using' you. You have a rough idea of my tastes, right?"
My languid voice sliced through the air in the sealed room, and Dr. Kim Seolgi's shoulders tensed slightly.
Under the table, Choi Yang's diligent hands continued to maintain my pleasure.
I fully embraced the sensation as I watched with interest to see what answer she would give.
A brief silence fell as she pondered the meaning of my words.
Her pupils shook rapidly, running through tens of thousands of calculations.
And finally, as if she had found the answer, she slowly, very slowly, rose from her seat.
There was no more anxiety or hesitation in her movements.
Instead, they were filled with the grim resolve of a gambler staking everything.
At her rising, I gave a split-second glance to Lee Soohee standing behind me.
Perfectly grasping my intent, Lee Soohee moved silently.
She positioned her sturdy frame against the door of the sealed room.
With her arms lightly crossed in front of her chest, she was a perfect wall in herself.
Now this space was a stage completely cut off from the outside, existing only for me and my women.
A faint smile crept across Dr. Kim Seolgi's lips at the sight.
It was an expression of complete understanding—or perhaps resignation.
She said nothing more.
Instead, she chose the most primal way to prove her worth.
One by one, the buttons of her white blouse slowly came undone.
Coming dressed in feminine clothes instead of a lab coat must have been part of her calculation.
Each time her delicate lace lingerie was revealed, I felt a different kind of excitement rising, separate from the pleasure under the table.
She turned the act of undressing into a presentation, maximizing her appeal.
With that brilliant mind of hers, she had precisely found the most effective way to satisfy me in this moment.
"Size."
I tossed out the word while savoring the pleasure under the table.
As if appraising, or simply demanding data.
My intent was clear: prove your value with numbers.
At my words, Dr. Kim Seolgi's movements paused for a split second.
But soon, without showing a hint of shame or humiliation, she brought her hand to her last remaining lingerie.
"Height 166 cm, weight 52 kg."
Like a researcher presenting her data, she recited her measurements in a calm, precise tone.
"Bust 75C, waist 25 inches, hips 35 inches."
I scanned her now fully exposed nude body as I listened to her voice.
It wasn't the explosive volume that seized the gaze like Han Yura's, nor the ample softness that seemed to embrace a man entirely like Yoon Chaewon's.
It was an ordinary figure, if ordinary.
But within that ordinariness lay her unique story.
One might think it neglected from being obsessed with research, yet there wasn't a single ounce of excess fat; the smooth waistline and faint shadows of abs showed how thoroughly she controlled herself.
Not a body forged by explosive workouts, but one sculpted through consistent stretching and diet control—like well-maintained lab equipment.
Efficient, without waste.
The numbers she recited were mere data.
I was reading the 'diligence' and 'ruthlessness' her body spoke of.
With that body and mind, she must have absorbed the knowledge poured out during my 'post-nut clarity' all night long.
I smiled in satisfaction.
"Recite your history."
As if the numerical evaluation was over, I moved to the next stage.
That brilliant mind of hers would instantly realize that the 'history' I meant wasn't some HR record.
What rose on Dr. Kim Seolgi's face wasn't bewilderment.
Rather, it was a strange calm, as if to say, 'So it has come.'
She had pierced my intent, calculated what answer I wanted and how to deliver it, in an instant.
I quite liked how that intellectual brain of hers shone even in this moment of having her sexual value appraised.
She took a moment to breathe.
Like a researcher taking a final deep breath before solving a complex equation.
"Official male partners... six."
The number from her lips was low for her age.
But she quickly added the key point.
"However, relationships with partners weren't much help to my research. They caused unnecessary emotional drain and only scattered my focus."
Her voice remained calm.
Like reporting the results of a failed experiment.
"So... I found other methods."
This was where the truth began.
Feeling Choi Yang's tongue flicking under the table, I waited for her next words.
"My main release method is masturbation. Beyond the normal level."
Her gaze pierced straight through me.
"Fisting. And... using tools. I prefer the sensation of filling me completely and stretching beyond limits."
There wasn't a speck of shame or hesitation in her confession.
It wasn't a listing of perverse sexual desires.
It was a briefing on the most efficient solution she had found herself to cool her overheated brain.
Unable to control the variable called a man, she chose tools she could perfectly control herself.
This was... beyond expectations. No, far better than expected.
I lightly gripped Choi Yang's hair moving busily under the table.
Then, toward the perfect subject in front of me, Dr. Kim Seolgi, I deliberately spoke in a voice laced with contempt.
"Tch, no wonder it felt so damn loose..."
The moment I spat it out, I saw her pupils shake like waves.
Humiliation, or shame. But that emotion vanished in an instant.
She perfectly understood my intent and gave the reaction closest to the correct answer.
Instead of denying or making excuses, she bowed her head, acknowledging her 'flaw.'
"I'm sorry. The back should be at least usable."
Her response nearly made me burst out laughing again.
It was astounding.
How perfect was this slave mentality?
When her flaw was pointed out, she apologized and immediately offered another 'option.'
Like a competent salesperson handling a customer's complaint.
My interest was piqued.
This was a new item not on her resume.
"You take it in the ass too?"
To my question, she answered without a moment's hesitation, as if it were obvious.
"Yes."
That single word coiled in my mind.
'Hng... fisting, huh... that's hot...'
Yoon Chaewon, who would gladly offer herself as a sacrifice to excite me.
Han Yura, who acted feisty like a cat normally but forgot how to think in front of my cock.
Choi Yang, who maintained her blank expression even when I used her pussy as a tissue to wipe my cum, showing no interest in the world.
And even Lee Soohee outside the door, sighing heavily while clinging to her petty pride, pretending to be aloof.
My women were each priceless sluts unmatched anywhere in the world.
Yet 'fisting' was a realm I hadn't even dared imagine.
A fist.
The image of that primal symbol of violence being accepted by a woman's softest place and churning inside.
It was a whole other dimension of depravity.
I gently but firmly pushed away Choi Yang's head moving under the table.
Physical stimulation meant nothing more now.
All my nerves were focused on the woman before me, Kim Seolgi.
I slowly rose from my seat.
The sound of the chair scraping sharply cut through the silence of the sealed room.
She was the perfect 'material.'
Brilliant mind, self-control, and the twisted desires hidden within, honed through experience.
I gripped her chin and lifted it.
Her head rose without resistance.
Pupils that seemed empty yet faintly gleamed with anticipation for my next command.
"Then prove it."
I murmured lowly.
"How useful a toy you are to me."
The smart woman, Dr. Kim Seolgi, perfectly understood that my true value wasn't 'money.'
Hundreds of billions in assets? That was just a phenomenon, not the essence.
My real power came from this irrational 'brain' that solved the final Alzheimer's puzzle in just a few hours of 'post-nut clarity'—something the world's top scholars couldn't crack over years.
To her, consumed by thirst for knowledge and honor, I must have been a god incarnate.
At my words, she moved as if she had been waiting.
With no hesitation or shame, perfect motion toward her goal.
She climbed onto the cold table herself.
And like a sacrifice placed on an altar, she spread her legs toward me in the most vulgar way.
Everything of hers was perfectly exposed to me.
She raised her slender fingers and began licking them thoroughly, as if savoring wine.
Slurping, wet sounds echoed in the quiet sealed room.
Once sufficiently slick, those fingers slowly, very slowly, descended toward the deepest part between her legs.
I watched the scene silently.
One of Korea's top minds, pleasuring herself to obtain the 'knowledge' and 'honor' only I could bestow.
A more intense excitement than any sex, any conquest, raced up my spine.
Her slick fingers finally reached their destination.
After a brief pause for a deep breath, they plunged into her without hesitation.
Squelch—a viscous, dull sound of something forcing into a tight space broke the silence.
What burst from her lips wasn't a simple moan.
A sharp, short breath mingled with pain and pleasure.
Veins bulged on the back of her hand gripping the table, and her well-trained abs twitched finely.
That sound and her reaction.
It was perfect live proof that every word on the 'resume' she submitted was true.
I leaned against the table, arms crossed.
I quietly began to appreciate the self-destructive performance of this lofty scholar, just getting started.
The regular dull friction sounds filled the room along with her ragged breaths.
Sweat-soaked hair clung messily to her forehead and cheeks.
Suppressed moans leaked from her tightly pressed lips, and her body trembled no longer by will, but reflexive spasms.
I simply watched, arms crossed.
This wasn't chasing pleasure.
It was the sheer tenacity of a researcher determined to complete the given task.
Pushing past the pain threshold, testing her limits, and finally conquering them with ruthless persistence.
Right now, she was writing her most difficult thesis against her own body.
The data was sufficiently collected.
Her 'resume' had not a single lie; it was even more than stated.
I approached the table and grabbed her spasming wrist.
"Stop."
At my cold voice, her movements halted as if by magic.
Like an overheated machine suddenly powered off, all spasms ceased, and her body went limp.
Her unfocused pupils slowly turned toward me.
Her face, smeared with sweat and saliva, bore no trace of the saintly researcher.
"Did I... pass the interview?"
Even in that state, she didn't forget her goal.
I liked that obsessiveness and gave a sly smile.
I gripped her chin again, met her eyes, and delivered the verdict.
"Yeah. From now on, you're my exclusive fuckhole. Don't even think about fucking another guy for the rest of your life."
This was the 'honor' she had earned.
The one-of-a-kind mark of being my possession.
Her pupils trembled faintly, but soon took on a light of submission, accepting everything.
"...Yes."
Only after hearing that answer did I get to the main point. The final question of the real 'interview.'
"And your sister. That bitch CFO. You can bring me her shares, right?"
In an instant, all color drained from her face.
A blatant demand to betray family, worlds apart from just mixing bodies.
Her pupils shook as if in an earthquake.
But the trembling didn't last long.
She had already crossed the river of no return.
Having chosen me, the 'deus ex machina,' past ties were nothing but trash to discard.
"......Yes."
With a voice far more strained than her first answer, barely above a whisper, she replied.
Only then did I smile in satisfaction.
Submission born from resistance is the sweetest.
"Good."
I released her wrist and turned away. All tests were over.
"Then let's go to the hotel. I'm so fucking horny I need to bust a nut."
She staggered down from the table and silently began gathering and putting on her clothes.
To my final words, she responded like a shadow.
"...Yes."