Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: To Higher Places
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To higher places.
Blue Sky Investment's CEO office was still thickly infused with the musky scent of a woman's juices and sweat.
I gripped a tight handful of Ri Su-hee's hair, which had grown out considerably.
It was a fresh new thrill, different from her old bob cut.
With longer hair now, I had one more way to control the bitch.
I rammed my evolved 20cm monster cock between her ass cheeks.
"Grh... mercy... please have mercy... I'm dying here... hngh... ha...!"
A sharp cry burst from Ri Su-hee's lips.
The room filled with sticky squelching sounds of flesh slamming against flesh.
The grotesquely swollen glans scraped mercilessly at her vaginal walls.
Ri Su-hee drooled saliva uncontrollably, heaving ragged breaths like a wild animal.
North Korea's elite assassination weapon.
That was a thing of the past.
In front of my cock, she was nothing but a female beast.
I yanked her hair and slammed her face straight into the keyboard on the desk.
Her cheeks, now laced with a hint of 'femininity' after ditching the bob, smeared across the hard plastic keys.
Meaningless letters stamped randomly across the monitor.
Cat-like mewls of "Haak... haak..." erupted from her mouth.
I could see the drool she shed, overwhelmed by pain and pleasure, seeping between the keyboard keys.
This was the scene I'd craved.
Not some elite operative or killing machine—just a bitch in heat.
A perfect female dog who tossed everything away at my single command.
I gazed down in satisfaction at the clear saliva trickling from her chin.
"Heek... hng... hng... heek..."
I admired Ri Su-hee transforming into a 'woman' who couldn't survive without my money and cock.
I released her hair and pulled my hips back.
A torrent of thick semen gushed from her hole, spilling from my steel-hard, girthy shaft.
White, sticky foam defiled the pricey office floor.
"Tissue."
At that casual order, Choi Yang and Park So-jin—who'd been standing by—approached without a second's hesitation.
Tissue No. 1, Choi Yang, quietly dropped to her knees before me.
Tissue No. 2, Park So-jin, silently dipped her head toward the puddle on the floor.
No questions or resistance in their eyes.
Just flawless comprehension of their roles.
Satisfied with my kingdom's order running like clockwork, I spoke up.
"What's next on the schedule?"
Choi Yang's voice, as she knelt before me, was her usual calm tone laced with a hint of static.
"Slurp... You have a meeting with Councilor Oh Se-ah of the New People's Party."
New People's Party city councilor.
Candidate for National Assembly in my district this general election.
A politician slated for defeat with her measly 7% approval rating.
In other words, prime cockbait.
But mid-thirties and young, with a background as a public broadcaster anchor.
Her face and figure were definitely...
More than enough specs for a dedicated fuckhouse—and with my cock still rock-hard after just cumming, I shoved it deep into the 'fully developed' throat of Choi Yang.
"Glrk... urgh... glk..."
Even as the monster ravaged her throat mercilessly, Choi Yang didn't push me away.
She just endured in silence amid the gagging noises, tears welling in her eyes. I pulled back, leaving my dick coated in thick saliva.
Leaning my head against the chair's backrest, eyes closed, the wet, hot sensation repeated mechanically below.
Tissue No. 1: Choi Yang.
No. 2: Park So-jin.
Two heads meticulously scouring every inch around my cock.
Cleaning up the mess of fluids from the female bodyguard who'd served me moments ago, along with my own traces.
I felt the tongue gliding up the shaft, the pressure inside her mouth—but no spark of arousal.
Just routine procedure.
Like the hum of gears turning flawlessly in a perfectly managed empire.
Gazing down at the monotonous rhythm, I stretched an arm to press the intercom button on the desk.
A crisp beep rang out, linking my mind to the empire's core.
"Hey, apple box ready?"
My voice brimmed with anticipation for the new 'game' about to unfold.
The thrill of a predator on the prowl.
A sigh from someone who couldn't grasp that joy filtered through the intercom speaker.
[Haa... Yeah, it's ready. Stuffed tight with crisp new 50,000-won bills, no gaps. But come on, who even uses apple boxes anymore? Bitcoin's so much easier and better.]
Pfft. Laughter escaped me.
CFO in charge of finances.
Thinks only in terms of efficiency and outcomes. Blind to the 'meaning' and 'aesthetics' woven into the process.
Bitcoin? What could a string of digital numbers on a wallet address even accomplish?
Money laundering, maybe...
But digital figures don't break people.
"Tsk tsk tsk. Our VP's got no 'romance,' huh? Apple boxes are the classic rule for this."
At my mention of 'romance,' Han Yura let out an incredulous scoff over the line.
To me, romance meant savoring a person's pupils dilating, their reason crumbling under the sheer physical weight and overwhelming volume of cash laid bare before them.
Watching someone who once pretended purity and nobility collapse before the scent of bundled bills—the degeneration unfolding step by step.
That was my brand of 'romance.'
[Tsk... Handle your romance on your own. But Oh Se-ah? Does it have to be her? Total cockbait. Zero value as a politician.]
Cockbait.
Spot on.
But that's precisely her value.
Han Yura doesn't get it.
Those already wallowing in filth see money as just another transaction, even when handed over.
But a pristine idealist who's never once dipped a toe in the muck.
The despair in that first plunge into the slime.
That forbidden thrill is the ultimate spice.
I pictured Oh Se-ah's face on the screen.
The face bulging with veins as she preached justice.
"On the plus side, she's delicious-looking."
Delicious-looking.
Fury at the world's ignorance, conviction that refuses to break.
All that teetering fragility mixed together—purest delicacy.
Once trampled, shattered, and tamed as mine, she'd deliver pleasure fiercer than any woman.
As if reading that hidden craving, an icy voice sliced through the intercom.
[You know you're a total cock-brained bastard, right?]
I looked down at the two heads working me over and flashed a wide grin.
Couldn't ask for higher praise.
"Yeah, straight facts."
Everything began with this 'cockhead.'
It sees the world, feels it, hungers for it—and I follow its lead.
The result? The Kim Cheolsu Empire as it stands.
Han Yura's jab was the ultimate validation of who I am.
As the appointed time neared, we set off from Blue Sky Investment.
In the pitch-black night, the waiting sedan lit its lights silently.
The back door swung open. As I slid in, Choi Yang followed smoothly, settling beside me.
Door shut, sealing out every sound and gleam from outside—perfect silence enveloped the interior.
Without a word, Ri Su-hee eased the car into motion.
That was the cue.
Choi Yang lowered herself, burying her head between my legs.
Zipper rasped down, and the cock freshly slurped by Tissues 1 and 2 plunged back into slick, hot depths.
In the cruising car, she carried on her duty in stoic silence.
Out the window, Paju's outskirts rolled by—no streetlights in sight.
In the gliding darkness, Ri Su-hee up front utterly ignored the bizarre scene unfolding.
Or pretended to.
Suddenly, a gaze through the rearview mirror prickled my skin.
Even in the void-black night, eyes gleaming like a predator's, stripped of emotion.
Not fixed on me or Choi Yang—just observing the 'phenomenon' rising from my body.
"What? Got something to say?"
She locked her eyes forward at my question.
Her lips parted faintly in the mirror.
"No. Just noting your ability seems much easier to control now."
Ri Su-hee. The one who grasped power's true essence.
My empire's sole 'warrior,' body etched with the meaning of training, tempering, limits, and breakthroughs.
And she deemed my control 'easier.'
Just as she said—lately, my body obeyed perfectly.
Fruits of the 'Virility King Project.'
Post-Nut Clarity, the god's gift that showered me with wealth and power, devoured my flesh mercilessly in trade.
Twice a day pushed my muscles to shrieking revolt; my frame withered to bare bones.
To erect the empire faster, more flawlessly, I had to shatter those bodily chains.
That's when it began.
Grinding my teeth through hellish workouts.
Day after day, screaming as I hoisted iron bars per Ri Su-hee's custom regimen.
And every morning, choking down Yoon Chae-won's so-called 'health juice'—pure filth.
A vomit-green slurry of kale, fresh herbs, mystery roots, and raw beef liver reeking of blood.
The optimal recipe to slam the massive stamina and nutrients Post-Nut Clarity demanded.
In exchange for forcing that sludge down, I edged closer to godhood.
Now I triggered Post-Nut Clarity on demand, fatigue-free afterward.
Even as I indulged bodily ecstasy like this, my mind wove airtight plans to conquer the next prey: Oh Se-ah.
This was a true 'king.'
Dominating every carnal and cerebral urge without flaw.
Ri Su-hee's stare pierced it dead-on.
I met it with a smirk, lip curling.
Tapped the head bobbing steadily between my thighs, then drawled in mocking tones.
"Thanks to it, watching you bitches feels like a bonus prize... Eh, call it an achievement."
My crude joke drew zero twitch from Ri Su-hee.
Choi Yang's rhythm never faltered.
Perfect control. Perfect submission.
Yet another sweet side effect of the 'Virility King Project.'
Yeah, this was me in full.
A cockhead unyielding after a full day of pounding and slapping, paired with Post-Nut Clarity's near-infinite money-duplication.
The world gawked or seethed at my riches and triumphs.
But who'd dream it all stemmed from this car's sticky, lewd ritual?
The rawest instincts forging the pinnacle of wealth—a flawless system.
City lights flickered into view outside, heralding the nearing destination.
My 25-year-old new year, embracing spring anew, dawned right here—in desire's throbbing core.