Your Cock Was Hidden Here the Whole Time?
"Oh my, looking to pick a fight with us?"
"Just because you took down those bottom-tier bitches, don't get too cocky."
"The last males who tried that~ never even got to enjoy themselves before they all burned up over there. Maybe you should try being a little smarter?"
I gave them a leisurely come-hither wave, inviting them to make the first move. Taking that as the height of arrogance, four onahole candidates began to close in around me, their smiles dripping with sultry contempt.
"……You know, the more I think about it, this situation is a little inconvenient."
"Regretting it already? I didn't know you had a cute side♡"
"Hey, cut the chatter and let's get started. We need to sample him and haul him back before before the leader rips us a new one."
"What if he runs like that shota brat last time? Should we just take his legs off first?"
"Chop them off after we've had our fun. For now, just slice the Achilles tendons♡"
They didn't even bother asking why I was regretting anything. They just snickered among themselves, swapping conversation that barely qualified as human, twisting those stocking-wrapped, plush thighs together like they owned the place. These insolent onahole candidates had about as much manners as the number of condoms I was going to go through — which was to say, none. A little education was clearly in order.
But she's not wrong that this is inconvenient. If I want to educate them, I need to solve that problem first.
Was the problem that they were stronger and more numerous than the onahole candidates I'd met before? Was I suddenly regretting charging into enemy territory alone, bare-handed, without a second thought?
Tch. They could take those braindead worries and cram them up their cunts.
"Too late for regrets, male!!"
"……."
The reason I was so reluctant to attack these onahole bitches right this second — the reason this moment was so genuinely inconvenient — was this.
"If you'd just quietly pulled your cock out, you might've at least kept your li—!?"
WHAM!!
"Kyaugh♡?!?"
Thud…….
"Hehkk…♡"
"Wh-what. Is she dead?"
"…No way. There's no way a human male's fist could… do anything to us, right?"
"Sh-she's actually dead…!?"
That was the problem. My fists were too strong. I hadn't even gotten a proper swing in during the tutorial, and now even onaholes who treated a regular adult man's durability like a joke couldn't survive a single punch. They burst apart like some trash-mob slime.
"Aish… I figured this would happen. How the hell am I supposed to educate you like this?"
I looked down at Onahole Candidate 1, her soft, springy belly caved in, dead on a scream. The remaining three just stood there, their peach-pink lips opening and closing, unable to process the reality that had just unfolded in front of them. I glanced between those three and the one who'd died with that vulgar expression still plastered on her face, and let out a sigh.
Clearing the stage would be too easy. But for onahole farming, my bare hands are way too strong.
Judging by the sound and the result, it might have looked like I'd put everything I had into that punch. I hadn't. The fist I'd driven into that onahole's lower belly had more force behind it than what I'd thrown at Water Canteen in the tutorial, sure — but for me, it was barely more than a slightly firmer jab. I'd been planning to knock them down casually and run a pussy quality inspection. This unstoppable superhuman strength was turning out to be excessive in all the wrong ways.
If they keep dying this easily, that's a problem… isn't there a better way?
I turned the problem over for a while. Then a brilliantly simple idea for knocking onaholes down safely popped into my head.
"Wh-what are you doing. Don't come any closer!!"
"You hiding something in there?"
"Wh-what's that supposed to……."
Squish!!
"Hieut♡!??"
My solution for safe onahole farming, given that my fists were inconveniently overpowered, was to farm equipment that could hit weaker than my punch. I remembered how the Air Freshener I'd met earlier had pulled a gun from between her tits. So I grabbed the vacuum-sealed, latex-leotard-wrapped breasts of the three onahole candidates who'd frozen in place after watching their comrade's gruesome end, and started a thorough physical inspection, groping around for anything useful.
"You lot hide stuff between these big, squishy things too. Come on, cough it all up."
"Th-that's just her, she's the special oneee♡♡"
"There you go lying again. And what's this soft, chewy little gummy bear poking out at the tip? A decoration?"
"Hieuk♡♡ Th-that's not a decoration, that's my nippl—♡"
Pinch!!
"Don't twist that♡ Don't twiiist it♡♡"
"The hell it isn't. Don't even try to talk your way out of this."
"Th-there's a g-gun between my tits. I'll hand it over, so just stop groping……."
"Now you're lying. You're telling me that's all you hid between these huge things? You think I don't know you're hiding more?"
"I'm not♡ It's trueee♡ If you keep groping I'm really gonna cuuum♡"
Psshh♡ Psshh♡♡
"Hic… I-I came♡ I really caaame♡ so please stooop already♡♡"
"Tsk. Shut that mouth-pussy. I can't concentrate."
Ah — let me clear something up before anyone gets the wrong idea. I was currently groping these bitches' ample chests like freshly steamed rice cakes with zero ulterior motives, acting under the purely practical goal of equipment farming. I was not, I repeat not, getting them off with their tits alone, nor giving them a massage to crank up the sensitivity on their baby-milk dispensers. I would appreciate it if nobody made that vulgar, distasteful assumption.
Anyway. After a thoroughly selfless, focused investigation of all three onahole candidates' cleavage, the haul was one loaded pistol and four spare magazines. No clubs, no daggers — nothing I could use to subdue them without killing them.
"Tsk, that's a little disappointing. You don't have anything besides these pistols?"
"Aheh♡ Aheeeh♡"
"M-my tits feel so gooood♡"
"……♡"
Hoping maybe they'd stashed something my thorough inspection had missed, I asked the melted-down, squirt-soaked onahole candidates if they had anything else. All I got back were horny moans.
"Aish. Waste of a good idea, but whatever."
Still, thanks to dropping one of them with a clean gut punch, the rest had gone from terrified to wearing that spread-your-pussy look, which meant I could run the inspection without any fuss. Scoring a ranged weapon was a win in its own right. I decided to look on the bright side.
"Alright, inspection time. Nobody move — just spread those legs wide."
Squelch♡ Squelch♡ Squelch♡
I tugged the latex high-leg aside and started the pussy quality inspection.
"Hnn♡"
"Ahn♡"
"……♡"
"Aish."
It was a sad story for three onaholes whose cunts were so eager for my thick cock that I could feel their cervical openings with just a finger — because all three of them had pussies of far lower quality than Water Canteen's. The grip was so pathetic that I'd have been better off busting a load in Water Canteen's cunt than using these cheap Chinese knockoff-taffy holes. And unlike Water Canteen or the Air Freshener, they didn't even have a single standout feature to make up for it. Disappointing.
"Guess I just wasted my time. Shame."
For a selfless, diligent search, the inspection results were abysmal. I let out a long sigh, laid the three onaholes down in a row — they were twitching like earthworms — and prepared to wrap things up. Missing another chance to cum was a shame, but what could I do?
I'm not kicking off this journey of endless hunger with defective product.
Decision made, I stepped right up over the three onaholes, who were putting on a pitiful show of shivering their tits while sticky pussy juice gushed out of them like a volcano. For the final test, I aimed at the lower bellies covering their wombs and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
"Kagh!?"
TING!!
"Knew it. They can tank a pistol round."
Just as I'd expected, the lead slug bounced off something taut and plump and went tumbling weakly across the floor. Wondering if maybe I'd just aimed wrong, I lined up on the pinchable, chewy bits — nipples, clits — and squeezed the trigger again.
"Ahk♡ Ahh♡♡"
The bullets left nothing but faint marks or a bluish bruise on the onaholes' nipples before ricocheting off, limp as anything. As predicted, they didn't deal anything close to the damage of even a light jab. That said, the way they trembled wherever they'd been shot, and the lewd moans they kept spilling even while unconscious, told me their bodies were bulletproof — but the impact a pistol could deliver sat right at riot-round level. Which meant this gun was the perfect stand-in for my overpowered fists. A flawless gut-punch suppression tool.
"This is as good a haul as Water Canteen. I like it."
Semi-auto pistol gut-punching, plus the knowledge that I could lightly subdue any trash-tier onahole candidates I ran into from here on without throwing a punch — I let out a satisfied laugh and stuffed the gun and rounds into my pockets.
"Ahh♡ Ahnn♡"
"Ah, right. Still gotta clean these up."
Crack♡ Crunch♡
"Khh……."
"Kyaa……."
"……♡"
I didn't forget to tidy up the failed onaholes, either. Just because they had superhuman, bulletproof bodies didn't mean I couldn't wring their necks by hand, or fold them up nice and neat into pretty little origami cranes for display at home.
"Over there!! There's a male!!"
"He killed the whole recon team? Hey, everyone get over here!! This is an emergency!!"
One filthy slut-bitch, one dollar-store disposable Air Freshener, and four trash-tier onahole cunts, all neatly taken care of. From far off came the sound of the remaining fourteen onahole candidates charging in, their ample tits bouncing on their chests like cows let loose in a pasture. Hoping that at least one of them would be worthy of receiving a wombful of the load I'd been holding back, I casually racked the pistol I'd just acquired.