Flexibility

The novel's setting is Earth in a parallel universe.

February 18, 2003. Around 9:00 p.m.

"Th-this is so embarrassing…"

Squelch.

I gave my hips a slight sway left and right. At that, the girl who claimed to be embarrassed shuddered hard while staring at the TV, a cry of pleasure tearing from her throat.

Her limp legs trembled. Even her small breasts bounced and swayed with the motion.

"Hhhik…"

I smirked and lifted her legs, starting with the left.

The claim that she was flexible turned out to be true — there was no resistance at all. I crossed her knees into the crooks of my elbows and locked her in place.

Her lower body spread wide into an M-shape.

"Th-this is…"

She pressed herself tighter against me as if afraid of falling, yet her pupils on the screen were shaking violently. When I opened my hands, she laced her fingers through mine and gripped hard.

"That's an order. Move until you climax once."

Squelch. Squelch.

She began rocking herself forward and back in tiny motions. I edged forward until I stood at the foot of the bed, and the screen showed the two of us enlarged and raw.

"Hahhk… ahh…"

The hesitation in her eyes gave way to fluster, then slowly turned lewd. Her breasts swelled taut, bouncing with even more spring.

A heavy pressure settled over the head of my cock as she bore down on her own and ground left and right, working that space hard.

"You're filthy… already rubbing yourself against the strongest stimulation on your own…"

"Hahhk… that's because you told me to… haaang!!!"

Squeeze.

The folds wound tighter around my shaft. The ridges ground against me with force. And from her outer lips inward, a diagonal suction kicked in, drawing my cock deeper as if swallowing it whole.

A strange kind of movement.

Even as she rocked front to back, her pelvis gave little side-to-side shakes, and every time, I felt the biggest, most swollen spot inside her press down on the head.

"Hahhk… feels good. Ian… ahh…"

Squelch. Squelch.

She was getting the hang of it now. Her waist work sped up, bit by bit. Her eyes went hazy, her mouth fell open, and she smiled shyly.

"You're filthy, aren't you?"

"Ahh… yeah… really… hahhk!!!!"

Squelch-squelch.

At some point her interlaced fingers clenched hard, and the legs crossed in the crooks of my elbows jerked.

Her calves lifted, then clamped down on my arms.

Thrust.

Even more weight settled on the head of my cock.

Using the strength in her arms and the leverage of her knees locked in my elbows, she rose slightly on her own — then dropped.

"Hwaaaang!!!!"

With that single small motion, her insides clenched as if she'd already climaxed, chewing down on my cock and sending the first tremor of orgasm through her.

"Hhhik… Ian. This is weird. This feeling… something… hwaang… uwaaaaaaang!!!!!"

Ejaculation rising.

"That's an order. Keep your eyes open and look at your chest and your hips. When my cum shoots into your womb… your body is going to change."

The moment I whispered it against her ear, my balls shuddered and I felt the semen fire. Spurt. Spurt.

Not a Myeong-gi?

The moment the question formed, time stopped.

Ah… I could get it from other women, though.

Ah… right.

Time flowed again, and I focused on the screen.

Swell. Swell.

It was bizarre.

Her small breasts ballooned in an instant — into a D-cup.

And her hips… I could feel them widening through the head of my cock, and I could see it with my eyes.

"Th-this is… hahheung!!!"

Even with a climax-wrecked face, she stared at the screen, then past it — looking at me.

Then she pulled her right hand free and cupped her own breast.

A shy little smile.

"Well? I wasn't lying, was I?"

"Hahhk… yeah… how…"

Of course her belly had swollen a little too, but that was just because all the cum had gone in.

"Haaang!!! Ian. It feels so good. This is going to reverse, right… hahhk… no, it won't?"

"Yeah. If you're my woman. If you left, it might go back to normal, but…"

"I… I'm not leaving. I… I'm not going to leave you."

"Good."

Ji-eun's face on the screen.

Her expression. The moment I focused on it, the camera closed in on her face.

Sweat glittered under the fluorescent light, and her eyes were curved into crescents — but through those narrow slits, her pupils were lewd, and something else showed through. The emotion called love.

Easy.

It wasn't a feeling for her specifically. It was the thought that, going forward, I should be more careful about placing Absolute Obedience Contracts on women, and maybe shrink my cock a little when I met them. With Pain-Pleasure Transfer switched off, of course.

When I get ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back… the women who glowed…

Women I wouldn't bring into the harem.

The ones who'd shone at school came to mind. Maybe bump my size just a little past my old one and share sex with them now and then.

Is it possible with all my abilities completely excluded? Keeping the part that doesn't cause injury, of course.

You said it was a trait of my soul, didn't you?

In that case, as long as I didn't get curious about what the other person had, it should be fine. Because then I'd have to turn the ability on, and she'd cling to me for sure.

Hmm… if I don't know what she has, I won't feel the loss either.

I went quiet for a moment, and Ji-eun clamped down on my cock and spoke, as if she were jealous. She'd noticed I wasn't looking at her.

"Ian. I want to look at your face properly while we do it now."

"Hm? Then do you want to be on top?"

"…Ian, do you like that kind of thing?"

"I like holding a girl up best, but I like it when a woman rides me too. Honestly I like pretty much everything. Standing, sitting, lying down, all of it."

She smiled shyly.

Then she nodded. She was genuinely cute.

Hmm. Should I probe a little?

If I did it with every trait switched off, things like Flexibility would be hard to obtain.

Maybe that was why her mother, whom I hadn't given a second thought earlier, came to mind. The aunt felt like too much of a stretch, so I set that aside for now.

I walked to the center of the bed. Then I sat and released her legs.

"Hahhk…"

"Want me to tell you something?"

"Hm?"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and whispered against her ear. She shivered as if it tickled — and her pussy clenched even tighter.

"There are a lot of mother-daughter pairs in my house."

"Hm? Mother-daughter? Why?"

She didn't seem to jump straight from "mother-daughter" to mother-daughter rice bowl or anything like that.

I smirked. She was so innocent I pulled her belly in tighter against me.

"A-jeong's mother, Jumi's mother, and — you wouldn't know her, but my first, a woman named Hye-yun, and her mother Jeong-mi too — they're all my wives. There are more, but…"

"Y-you mean… a mother and daughter with the same man… with you… they sleep with you?"

The screen showed her face full of shock. Fair enough — that was the normal reaction.

"We even filed the marriage paperwork. Ah!!! And I never asked them to bring anyone. In a lot of cases, after they slept with me, they thought of their mothers on their own and dragged them in."

A-jeong and Jumi were exceptions, but A-jeong did it in the future, so.

Squeeze.

"Hahhk… ahh… really?"

"Yeah. A-jeong said her mom was divorced and looked like a wreck, and if she showed her this kind of pleasure the depression would fly away — so she brought her."

I mixed Hye-yun's case and Yu-ra's case into a jumble. At that, her pussy clamped down as if everything up to now had been a joke, and went into spasms.

Judging by how aroused she was, it wasn't as if she had no interest at all.

Squeeze.

"Hhhik…"

"Your mom has the Ginhak, right? Then her body must run pretty hot. You really want her hanging around hostess bars and wrecking her life?"

"Hahhk… Mom?"

She was still hesitating. So I smirked and decided that if this last bit didn't land, I'd just drop it.

"And for all of them, the daughter ranks higher than the mother. I keep married women as concubines."

"Ian. That means you want Mom too — my mom — right?"

"Eh, so-so. Partly I'm just saying it because you'll find out later anyway, and partly mother-daughter rice bowl tastes pretty good."

"…Okay. I'll talk to Mom for now."

I grinned at that answer and simply flopped onto my back on the bed.

"Okay. And you're spasming right now, so once you calm down a little, pull off and turn around. Or you can just stay like that and brace on my knees if you want."

"Hahhk… okay."

February 18, 2003. Around 3:00 a.m. (Around 8:00 p.m. Korea time.) (One hour before the first night with Lee Ji-eun.)

[Tom Reimi's POV.]

"Wayne, hurry it up. We don't have time."

"Tom. Ah… okay."

Inside a mansion in a wealthy pocket of Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, a middle-aged man was tied to a chair. A middle-aged woman and two boys who looked like teenagers were bound hand and foot behind their backs, thrashing on the floor.

The man called Wayne sat in front of a computer in what looked like a study, staring at the monitor.

"Mmph!!!"

"Shut up!!!"

Click.

The man called Tom stood about 195 centimeters tall, with the kind of muscle that looked like it weighed 120 kilos, and an eagle tattoo on his shoulder that was hard to forget. Square jaw, brown hair — and a thoroughly terrifying face.

Hanson, bound to the chair, would have done anything to save at least his family — but these men had already shown their faces, and they were calling each other by name without hesitation right in front of his family. A deep despair settled over him.

Ah… please, Holy Mother Mary, at least my family.

He'd been having dinner with his beloved wife and two sons when Wayne and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tom had broken into the mansion and pointed guns at them.

After watching a silenced muzzle put a hole in a picture frame, the whole family had done exactly as they were told. And once the family had been bound and thrown to the floor, the two men had pulled off their masks and revealed themselves to Hanson. Hopelessly so.

"Hanson. See, this is why you don't touch the boss's money. You thought you were the only one who could do the books? You've got some balls — how much did you clean out, exactly? Wayne, how much?"

Hanson looked at Wayne. With resentful eyes. Wayne had been his partner accountant, and an employee of Hanson's own accounting firm. A best friend he'd built the company with for twenty years.

But looking at the bruises on Wayne's face, Hanson guessed he'd been tortured by this brutal fixer Tom standing in front of him.

"Th-that's… it's a lot. More than I estimated."

"What, how much? You said around ten million, didn't you?"

Hanson squeezed his eyes shut.

Wayne's methods and his own were the same, so the moment Wayne opened his computer, Hanson had given up on everything.

Private high school tuition for two sons had been more expensive than expected, and the commission for designing and managing a drug organization's double books alone hadn't been enough to cover his wife's luxuries and the boys' school fees.

Was that why? Or had ten years without any sense of being watched made him arrogant? Two years ago, he'd finally put his hands on the organization's money.

"Th-that's… a little over thirty-three million dollars."

"Fucking… are you insane? You cleaned out that much and still thought you'd get away with it? Heh heh heh."

Killing intent flooded the room, and Hanson's body shook under it.

I should have been satisfied with around a million dollars…

The older son just starting high school, the younger one in eighth grade, their tuition — if he'd only skimmed from his own income, a million would have been plenty. He'd even been confident he wouldn't get caught.

Even he couldn't understand why he'd ever thought of cleaning out thirty-three million. Nothing but regret filled him now. Something had possessed him. Something vicious.

"Tsk… Hanson. You know what order the boss gave me? If it was under ten million, treat it as payment for your hard work and pretend it never happened. Scare you a little. Why do you think we showed our faces? To warn your family — especially your wife. She's been acting like she wants the IRS to come knock on the door for a tax audit."

Th-that…

Ten million was still a huge sum. And the Tom in front of him was not the kind of man who lied. The boss had always been fairly generous too.

"But not eleven million, not fifteen, not nineteen — thirty-three? Hah… I'm speechless. Hey… Wayne, send the report straight to the boss."

Tom set his gun on the table for a moment, walked over to Hanson, and pulled out the ball gag that had been sealing his mouth.

"Spare me, Tom. I've grown your personal assets without a single problem, haven't I?"

"Hanson. Even I can't do anything about this now. The Maginot Line was twelve million, even after taking my cut and looking the other way."

"Spare… then at least my family— mmph!!! Ghk!!"

The muzzle shoved deep into his throat so he couldn't get a word out — only pain. Whether it was just to shut him up because he was noisy, Tom looked down at him with cold eyes.

"Tsk tsk. Whatever possessed you… Wayne, even if this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠guy dies, managing my accounts and the organization's accounts won't be a problem, right?"

"Y-yes. The boss's hidden accounting team… already handled the cleanup."

"Haa. I've been getting bad headaches lately, so I didn't really want to kill anyone… but I've got no choice. Sorry, Hanson."

Click!!! Bang!!

In one motion Tom yanked the muzzle free, pressed it to the roof of Hanson's mouth, and pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed upward. A massive hole opened in the crown of his head, and the light drained from Hanson's eyes.

"Mmph!!!!!"

"You crazy bitch. This is your fault. Hanson's dead because of you. You knew exactly what your husband made, didn't you? What kind of parties were you throwing that lavish? You're the one who got him caught in the boss's intel net… you stupid bitch."

Click!!!

Hanson's wife, who had been lifting her waist and shaking her head hard, slumped face-first and bled out.

The two sons, even with both parents dead, were so crushed by terror that only their eyes trembled. They made shallow whimpers and otherwise stayed silent.

"Tsk… it started with your tuition. When you get to the afterlife, beg your father for forgiveness."

Click. Click!!!

Thud.

"Ugh!!!! Ugh…"

Wayne, following the warning he'd been given in advance, hurriedly pulled a plastic bag from his back pocket and vomited into it.

Tom looked at him with disgust, then walked to the entrance, grabbed a can of gasoline, and splashed it through the mansion.

He set a timed ignition device, pocketed the remote, and called for Wayne.

"Wayne… you coming out or what?"

"Y-yes…. Coming."

Thirty minutes after they left, a massive fire broke out at a mansion in Beverly Hills.

"Wayne… spit it out right now — how much you skimmed. Your Maginot Line is five million. If you come clean now, I'll at least try reporting it to the boss."

"I… I'm a little under four million. Really. If you'd asked about me earlier, I would have told you everything."

"That so? How much is left?"

"Same amount — no, it's actually grown by nearly thirty percent."

Tom grinned. The ten million and five million were also the allowances the boss gave him.

Under ten million or five million meant recover it, then fully subordinate them into a lower organization that would go independent. Above that meant they were idiots, so dispose of them. Of course the money went to Tom.

"Hanson's death means an investigation's coming for you too. A smart guy like you already knows how to handle himself, right?"

"Y-yes. Of course."

"Sell Hanson's company and turn it into cash. And of the money you stashed, keep fifty percent — deposit the other fifty into this account."

Tom pulled a slip of paper from his jacket pocket while driving and handed it over. Wayne took it with both hands shaking.

"Of course the company sale money and that extra thirty percent profit you made go in there too. I've already dug up everything behind you, so don't even think about hiding it."

"Y-yes… of course."

Today's haul had been pretty big, but to build the drug supply network the boss had ordered, nearly ninety percent of today's profit would have to be dumped straight into the organization. Still, at least a million would be left, so Tom's mood lifted.

In that moment a splitting pain tore through his skull. He hurriedly pulled the car to the side of the road and gripped the steering wheel.

"Fuck… ugh… why the hell these headaches…. Hm?"

"T-Tom, are you okay—"

"Fuck, shut up. What day is it today?"

"Huh?… February eighteenth…"

"Fucking… heh heh heh. Fuck, it was real?"

"Huh? What was?"

"You're Wayne, right? We just came from Hanson's place?"

Wayne looked bewildered, and on another level worried about what this lunatic was doing now — a complicated expression — then nodded.

And somehow Tom's face had grown even more vicious. Even though he was just sitting there smiling, goosebumps rose and Wayne's arms and legs started shaking hard.

Why did I try to come back around this time?

Tom smirked at the trembling Wayne and turned that question over. His memories still weren't intact. According to what the Constellation had said at the moment of regression, the necessary memories would come in sequentially first.

That would last for thirty days.

But the day of the Great Upheaval had been January 1, 2008. He tried to recall whether there was any reason he absolutely had to return to this point in 2003.

"A-aren't we leaving?"

"I've got something to think about, so don't talk to me. Take the outer roads."

"Yes."

Tom got out of the car. Wayne got out too, and they switched seats.

The car started moving. Tom closed his eyes and thought about why he'd chosen this period of all times.

This is right when I was just starting my organization — the hard, grinding stretch. I even ended up in a detention center in the middle of it. Why the hell…

The time of Awakening.

No matter how he thought about it, going back to the day before Awakening, or a few months before, would have been right.

When he'd obtained the Regression Stone, pursuers had forced him to swallow it immediately. The lucky part was that he could choose the time — and he was certain he had been the one who chose it.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

Wayne's voice broke his thoughts. Irritation flared instantly.

"I told you to be quiet."

"Yes… it just sounded like you were asking."

"Never mind. Hey — if the Joker regressed to the past, before he had superpowers, why do you think he'd do it?"

The guy liked hero stuff, so he knew the Joker. It was random, but Tom threw the question at him and watched.

Wayne glanced sideways, met his eyes, then looked forward again and opened his mouth.

"Either there's someone he wants to erase, or he wants to get close to people who become ability users in the future and turn them into villains…"

"That's it!!! Hahahaha."

Tom remembered.

People he absolutely had to erase, and people he had to acquire.

A few of them had operated under aliases, so there was no way ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to find them anyway. He didn't even know where they were in this period.

But a few of them he knew far too well.

The boss.

His own boss — after Awakening, the man had erased his past and started acting like a hero. In the process he'd reported Tom to the government and even tried to catch him personally.

That bastard was why Tom had regressed five years into this miserable stretch.

And… those bitches…

Wayne's words. The suggestion about recruiting them as allies left a deep impression.

Women who would become Awakened in the future. Women who would become villains. And a woman who, while not the strongest in America, ranked inside the top five.

She lived in LA, and she was already somewhat famous even now.

Judging by how she became a villain, her temperament seemed compatible — but at her side had been a presence named Lucas, a villain who wasn't quite a villain.

Lucas… that guy's somewhere in America too.

Rumors said he came from Korea, or that he was American — his origin wasn't clear. But if he'd been a foreigner, the U.S. government wouldn't have circled the wagons around a villain.

"Wayne. You know Anna Cho, right?"

"Huh? Yes… Anna Cho. She was a client of our firm until two years ago."

"Address?"

"No. She demanded we wipe all the data."

"Damn it. Find me a private investigator and put someone on Anna Cho."

"Huh?… That's danger—"

Click.

Tom drew his gun and aimed it at Wayne.

"I… I'll do it. Just put someone on her?"

"Yeah."