Chapter 293
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 293
Chapter Title: How to Use Hypnosis in Reality
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Solomon, half of this scorching industry reaction was thanks to the domestic alchemists and blacksmiths who slapped bankrupt-your-parents repair fees on the items they sold.
They'd colluded on repair prices like the kind of folks who'd only picked up bad habits early on.
Practically charging as much as the item's sale price.
And yet they were utterly shameless about it.
-'Jealous? If you're pissed, go buy a new one then.'
Supply always trailed demand, making items rare and their crafters even rarer.
So the domestic blacksmiths and alchemists made it crystal clear who called the shots in the item trade, hitting customers with reactions that boiled their blood.
Armed with that "Don't like our scam? Plenty of other buyers. Piss off" mentality, they flipped the script and lorded over customers like bosses.
In a normal world, customers would've been the top dogs—but here, you could argue the makers were pulling underdog power plays.
So the local item buyers, who'd been getting royally screwed by these grumpy alchemists and blacksmiths, lost their minds over my one-year free repair event... or so it seemed.
'...Well, whatever. I'm not the one fixing them.'
The moment I announced the one-year free repair event, packages started flooding in—items I'd sold or not, complete with certificates that popped up hologram descriptions.
High-end stuff had owners delivering straight to my door.
I scooped them all up, stashed them in my Subspace Storage, and dove into the Tower's 8th floor—Diablo world.
Then it was time to hunt down the blacksmith chick.
"Hey, you pussy bitch, your Master's hauled in another pile for you to fix today."
"M-money... gotta get paid... haaah...♡"
"That's why I'm shoving my dick in your cunt right now, paying up with cum instead. You filthy bitch."
"Haaaang...♡ Y-yes, yessss...♡ Cum instead of cash feels so gooood...♡ Hiiiii...♡ Haaaang!"
Since we'd hashed out cum as payment, I could dump endless repairs on the blacksmith slut.
"Alright, gonna blast loads into your front hole, back hole, and mouth-cunt today too—so have 'em all fixed by the time I circle back to town."
Say that, then snag some monster (cosplay) pussy sluts nearby for potions, head back—and repairs were spotless.
FYI, those monster (cosplay) pussy sluts respawned after town trips and field returns—game system glitch or whatever.
"Huuuht...♡ F-fixed... all done...♡"
"Oh, nice work. Reward time—gonna stuff your front, back, and mouth full of cum again."
"Huuut♡ ...Dick's so huge... filling me uuuup...♡ Huuuung...♡♡♡"
Fuck the blacksmith pussy bitch silly as a "job well done" bonus, pump her full of cum, reload the fixed gear into Subspace Storage, reality-hop back—done.
Items repaired, fresh potions farmed—solid day's grind.
Just rail the blacksmith slut and monster (cosplay) pussy whores, and boom: repairs handled, alchemy stock topped up...
This was true alchemy... nah, pussy alchemy.
'Turning women into gold. Now that's alchemy. ...Kuh, badass...'
Ship the fixed items back via courier or text pickup details to those who wanted hands-on.
Of course, grunt work like that? Not me—family girls or maids handled it.
Second sis's crew would nail it too if I dumped it on her.
No time for me to sweat the small stuff.
Women to fuck—time's the real shortage...
"Bro, nailed it like you said—it's a flat-out event. Just in case assholes kick up."
"Yeah. Saw the worries online. Fretting over troublemakers."
Made damn sure free repairs were billed as a limited event.
Why? 'Cause favor-mistakers-for-rights would pop up later, screwing with my head.
Predictable future, courtesy of gut-skill foresight.
Preemptively locked it down.
Or lawsuits could've followed.
Worst case, some judge rules "Years of steady events? That's baked into the price..."
No plans for repeat repair gigs anyway.
'No loose ends better. Good deeds drawing hate? Makes me fucking rage.'
World didn't need this shit originally—but assholes treat endless favors like entitlements, so I blocked ahead.
Internet peeps got my defensive vibe.
"Assholes everywhere..." Yeah.
"Master♡ Haaang! Haaaang! Haaahut♡"
First-floor laundry room in our mansion.
Secluded corner of the massive estate—servants rarely poke around.
Lee Ji-min, rocking the lewd sex-slave maid getup I gifted, lured me here.
Today's no different: prime fuck-spot for her and me, laundry be damned.
"You sluts even remember this is a laundry? Feels like you show up daily not for wash but to get railed."
"...Heut♡ ...B-but... sex-slave maids can't do master-bed stuff like the Madams..."
"Huh. Fair."
True enough.
New unspoken rule: no special summon from me? Master bedroom's comfy fucks for family only.
Sex-slave maids dubbed 'em "Madams"—Mom, sisters, lil' sis hogging that privilege.
"Master...♡ Shower me with more love...♡ I'll pump out tons of your babies...♡"
Lee Ji-min rubbed her plump lower belly—womb territory, no doubt.
She's knocked up with my seed right now.
Like she'd begged: yanked her IUD, hit her with impregnation power mid-creampie—baby secured.
IUD out or not, power + creampie seals it anyway.
They're not foolproof.
Hell, babies born overseas clutching 'em like toys.
"Oh yeah? My kid yearly?"
"Y-yes... Master's babies every year...♡ Your dedicated flesh-toilet bitch pussy slave...♡"
I smirked at Lee Ji-min's cutesy ass-kissing to butter me up.
Fiancée-boyfriend on deck, yet daily leg-spread for my monster cock pounding her raw.
Told her clamp that pussy tighter, hammered piston-style till I flooded her womb, then stuffed mouth and ass to brim with cum.
'Kukuku. Shit’s spinning fun. Gotta push Lee Ji-min to marry that dude ASAP. Already alibi’d her blackout drunk on booze, faked a fuck-session... Both wasted, raw-dog style. He bought it hook-line—cum dripping from her snatch was mine. Perfect.'
Pussy slaves with boyfriends or hubbies? Cuckold city.
Stealing 'em raw amps the thrill—juicier, hotter.
'Kukuku. Sidestep suspicion: dinner invite day, hypnosis tweak. "Trust your future wife." Kukkuk.'
Lately, plotting Lee Ji-min's boyfriend bamboozle taught me real-world hypnosis hacks—zero blowback.
Key: make it undetectable even if sniffed.
Drill everyday, no-brainer common sense.
Slick, passes without a ripple.
Unrealistic hypnosis? Wears off, suspicion spikes—me as prime suspect.
Like mass-hypno on virgin cuties to dick-suck, pop cherries, hand over cash? Boom—post-wake-up, weirdness hits, finger on me.
But hyper-normal stuff?
Say, married dudes with hotties or boyfriends: "Trust your wife." "Believe your girl." "Family first." "Respect her privacy." "Don't snoop her phone." Et cetera—pure, obvious gospel.