Chapter 129: Goals
"Heh heh heh. What a fucking idiot."
The moment Don Quixote climbed into the car after accepting Steel Armor's threat-laced proposal—hand over two of Jet Stream's districts in exchange for his own Districts 81 and 82—he burst into laughter. Right in the middle of battling Jet Stream's underlings in District 99, he'd gotten a message from a subordinate he'd left at base.
"What?! What the hell does that mean?!"
It was such an absurd claim that Don Quixote wondered if his guy had lost his mind and was pranking him. But when the subordinate sent photos of the collapsed bases, Don Quixote realized it was true.
"Which fucking bastard...!"
Could it be Steel Armor?
The first suspect who came to mind was Steel Armor. If Jet Stream fell, the next likely enemy was him. Sure, his superpowers might be a notch below, but Don Quixote had the veteran edge of surviving years against an S-rank villain like Jet Stream. Steel Armor knew that, so maybe he was trying to check him early.
"It's just that I don't like having another villain between my districts. Hate it? Fine, reject it—no skin off my back... as long as you can handle the consequences."
"....."
But that misunderstanding cleared up when Steel Armor demanded his districts. There was no reason to target them specifically. Comparing territories, Jet Stream's and Don Quixote's alliance lands showed Jet Stream's were overwhelmingly more developed. No sense abandoning prime real estate like that for lesser spots.
"If not Steel Armor... then who the hell? No way..."
With Steel Armor off the suspect list, others rose up. His alliance mates. The five A-rank villains, including Don Quixote, had banded together against their common foe, Jet Stream. And today, Jet Stream had lost to Steel Armor. No more reason to keep the alliance.
One of them had likely made a move against him. They were villains at heart—backstabbing was always on the table, even with a handshake deal.
"Heh heh heh. But their little scheme backfired."
By handing over two districts to Steel Armor, Don Quixote lost nothing.
"Whoever it is, one of the three. I'll settle this score bit by bit."
One was already dead, leaving three alliance members: Pseudo, Fallen Angel, and Vivabia. He didn't need to investigate who—it didn't matter. Kill all three, and revenge was served.
"S-rank villain Don Quixote... No reason I can't pull it off. Heh, kahahahaha!"
Don Quixote pictured himself ruling Dark City like Jet Stream once did, and laughter exploded from him.
*****
"Bet he's grinning like a fucking moron right now. Dumbass."
I smirked, thinking of Don Quixote handing over his districts lock, stock, and barrel. Sure, I'd rigged the situation to make him accept easily. My clone had toppled two of his hideouts in Districts 81 and 82, and I'd threatened to come for him if he didn't comply.
But even so, he shouldn't have given them up. When invaders conquer a country, resistance fighters inevitably rise. Just look at our own history—common sense.
Jet Stream was beaten but not dead. And though many underlings had died, more lived. Don Quixote would have to hole up in Jet Stream's old turf until new bases were built. Think those survivors would sit idle? From today, Don Quixote wouldn't sleep easy.
"Plus, I've got another ace up my sleeve."
Using barbarians to control barbarians—the legendary with yi zhi yi strategy! Time to raise a glass. I'd felled the giant Jet Stream.
But they'd learn soon enough: it wasn't them who toppled the giant—it was me. And the cup they'd drained would prove poison.
*****
Jet Stream's territory spanned Districts 83 to 106—twenty-four districts total. My alliance with Don Quixote's five had agreed to split them four each beforehand. I'd traded two of mine to him for 81 and 82.
Then one of Don Quixote's crew, A-rank villain Jenga, got assassinated, freeing up four more. I magnanimously let his alliance divvy them—I'd claim them later anyway.
My original land up to District 80 now stretched to 84. Thirteen districts total. Barely over half of Jet Stream's, but massive all the same. And with more powered underlings incoming, I'd expand further.
Ultimate goal: the whole of Dark City in my grasp. That was Scenario Two of this game I'd devised.
Scenario One? Harem, obviously! Building one with Dark City's pretty, beautiful women—that was my first scenario and endgame.
*****
"Cheers~!"
I clinked glasses with Ji-na and Elis. The table groaned under snacks and bottles.
Can't let the underlings have all the fun, right? I'd worked hardest this time—toppling Jet Stream, scheming against Don Quixote's crew. The top dog deserved the wildest break.
A week of nothing but sex.
Sex was my rest.
"Ugh... my throat hurts."
"Pfft! Our little Elis is still a baby?"
"Puhahaha!"
Elis gulped her beer, then flailed from the carbonation sting. Ji-na and I cracked up watching her.
Elis stuck to sweet wine. She'd never touched cheap, harsh stuff like soju.
"Soju this time?"
"Eek! No way. I'd rather have beer."
"Puhaha! Alright, go for it."
She recoiled at the soju bottle, even shielding her glass. Adorably.
Expensive whiskey was fine, but tonight, soju and beer called. Korean blood hadn't fully drained yet. Wait, body was pure Dark City stock—soul, then? Whatever. Bottom line: somac cravings.
Glasses filled and emptied countless times.
"Ugh... dizzy..."
Elis tapped out first. Trying to match my pace—where a keg chugged straight barely buzzed me—she was doomed.
Normally, mix booze with water to pace yourself. But I wanted her hammered quick. Sorry, Elis—no water.
Sorry, Elis! But I'll repay the favor later—with my dick!
"Elis? You okay? Wanna head up and rest?"
"Y-yeah..."
Apologizing inwardly, I supported her.
"Ji-na, I'll drop Elis in her room."
"Mmm~ Bring back some ramyeon!"
"Want it? Grab from the fridge."
"Too lazy!"
"Sigh..."
Not just Elis was sloshed. Ji-na whined about the fridge being "too far" despite steps away. I sighed, then elevator'd up with Elis.
"Heh heh heh... right on plan."
Doors shut; my true grin emerged. Even the straightest-laced cross lines drunk. From the moment she entered my setup, Ji-na was fated to cross tonight.
"Oppa... sneaky grin..."
"What? How's this sneaky? Looks pure and kind, right?"
"Sneaky..."
Stumbling, Elis pinched and kneaded my cheek, face beaming.
"....."
Fuck, too cute. Dick sprang up.
"Ahng...!"
I grabbed her ass on impulse. Firm, perfect—never tire of it.
Hugging to steady her, I kissed. Lips parted for my tongue. So much practice now they opened automatically on contact. Innocent Elis was dyed in my colors.
"Remember, Elis?"
"What...?"
"Our first kiss. You were drunk then too."
"Ah... dunno..."
Shy, she buried her face in my chest.
"Wanna recreate it tonight?"
"How...?"
"You in that dress from back then. Me teasing you from behind. Call Ji-na—ask her to come up quick."
"Huh?"
"Then we fuck. With her at the door."
"Oppa, that's..."
"Can't let Ji-naa catch us banging, right? Even as my huge dick pounds your pussy mercilessly, no moans. Chat casual with her outside like nothing's up. Thrilling, huh?"
"No... she'll hear... oppas dick... too big..."
"What...!"
Shocked, eyes wide. I'd told Elis to say "dick" and "pussy," but she'd blushed and stuck to "genitals." Now? Blithely dropping "dick." Booze power!
Feed her loads from now on! Wait, alcoholism? Nah.
Occasional benders then!
Craved slutty Elis mouthing "dick" and "pussy."
"How's your pussy now, Elis? Aching? Want my dick slamming it?"
"Hng... yes..."
"Want what?"
"Elis's pussy... want oppa's dick pounding it..."
"Fuck, ramming now."
Dick maxed hard. No holding back. Arm around her waist, pants off—straight insertion.
Slutty words? Her pussy dripped slick. No foreplay needed.
Squelch-!
"Haaang~!"
"Elis!"
As she craved, I hammered her pussy, carrying her to the room.
*****
Back down, Ji-na sat stone-faced, downing shots solo.
"What, hogging it sneaky?"
"...What? Why so late? You didn't do anything weird to Elis, right? Try it and you're dead."
"Hey. What kinda creep molests a kid? Pour me one."
Sorry, Ji-na. Already did the weird. Still doing it.
Clinked, downed mine. Hand on her head.
"What? Off."
"Thanks, Ji-na."
"...For what."
Her prickly cat vibe softened.
"Everything. Especially you getting blood on your hands helping this screw-up bro. Grateful. And sorry."
"...Tch. No blood. I don't get bloody."
True. Her power: Ghost Queen (Lv.8). Phase through as ghost, kill sans touch. No splatter.
...Sex as ghost? Pounding air? Or pussy feel? Random thought.
"You did the work. Body okay? Hurt?"
Drunk tenderness? Unlike her.
"Obviously. Minor scrapes—spit heals 'em."
Cracked rib from High-Power Bomb? Healed. Regen trait FTW!
"Hurt?! Where? Show me. Bad?"
Face grave, she fidgeted.
"Ah!"
Pulled her into hug. Smaller than Elis, but soft against my chest.
"I'm fine. Thanks for worrying."
"....."
Patted back; her arms wrapped mine.
Tease is ripe.
Just cross the line now.