Hooking the Big One

I stared at the flickering system window hovering in the air, its crimson edges pulsing like a warning. The usual smooth interface had glitched into this crude error message, as if the world itself was telling me I’d overreached.

But I wasn’t about to let a simple access denial stop me. Not when the “big one” was finally within striking distance.

Her name was Sun Ce—the so-called Little Conqueror of Jiangdong. In this twisted version of the Three Kingdoms where every legendary figure walked in beautiful female form, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a fiery warlord with flowing golden hair, sharp eyes that could cut steel, and a body honed by years of battlefield command. She ruled her territory with the kind of ruthless grace that made men kneel and women envious.

And tonight, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was going to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be mine.

I adjusted the silk robes I’d chosen for this encounter—dark, understated, the kind that suggested quiet confidence rather than desperate ostentation. The memory manipulation skill I’d activated earlier was already working its subtle threads through the evening’s festivities. A few carefully placed words during the banquet, a lingering touch when I offered her wine, and the first hooks were set.

This isn’t brute force. This is fishing. Patience. The right lure. The perfect moment to yank the line.

The banquet hall in her temporary headquarters still hummed with the remnants of celebration. Musicians played softly in the corner while servants cleared away platters of roasted meats and delicate river fish. Sun Ce lounged at the head of the table, one leg draped casually over the arm of her ornate chair, her armor partially discarded to reveal the thin under-robe beneath. The fabric clung to her curves in a way that made it hard to maintain the calm mask I wore.

“Jin Hwan,” she called out, voice carrying that natural authority even when half-drunk. “You’ve been staring. Something on your mind?”

I smiled, rising smoothly and approaching with measured steps. The system might have thrown up an error, but I could feel the skill’s influence wrapping around her like invisible silk threads. Her pupils were slightly dilated. Her usual sharp suspicion had softened into something warmer. Dangerous.

“Only that the Little Conqueror seems more beautiful each time I see her,” I replied, keeping my tone light, almost teasing. The formal register I usually maintained with her had shifted tonight—testing boundaries.

She laughed, a rich sound that sent a thrill through me. “Flattery from a man who once tried to negotiate my surrender? You’re bolder than I remember.”

Her generals had left us mostly alone now, dismissed with subtle suggestions and the help of another low-level memory tweak. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. I stopped just close enough for her to feel my presence without it becoming a threat.

“Bolder? Perhaps. Or perhaps I’ve simply realized that some battles are better won in the bedroom than on the field.”

Her tone held a challenge, but I caught the slight hitch in her breathing when my fingers brushed her wrist. The skill was working. The Corrupting Touch I’d leveled up last week was feeding her thoughts with suggestions she didn’t even know were foreign.

I leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Then let me prove it, Lady Conqueror. One night. No armies. No strategies. Just you and me.”

For a moment the old Sun Ce flashed in her eyes—the one who had conquered cities and sent kings running. Then it softened. The threads of my power tightened.

She stood suddenly, grabbing my collar and pulling me close. Her lips were inches from mine, eyes blazing with a mixture of suspicion and desire.

“If this is a trick, I’ll have your head on a pike by morning.”

“No tricks,” I lied smoothly. “Only the truth of what we both want.”

When she kissed me, it was like a dam breaking. All the pent-up tension of our previous political encounters, the verbal sparring, the way her eyes had followed me across battlefields—it all poured out. I let her push me back against the table, her hands already working at the fastenings of my robes while I activated the next layer of the skill.

She gasped against my mouth as the power took hold. Her grip on my shoulders tightened, then gentled. The fierce warlord who had never bowed to any man was melting, just enough.

I spun us around, lifting her onto the table with a strength that surprised her. The heavy wooden surface creaked under us as I pushed her robes open, revealing smooth skin marked with old battle scars that only made her more beautiful. My lips traced a path down her neck while my hands explored lower, finding her already wet and wanting.

“Fuck,” she hissed, the crude word sounding impossibly erotic from someone of her status. Her hips rolled against my fingers as I stroked her, learning what made the mighty Sun Ce tremble.

This was the moment I lived for—the corruption of the pure, the breaking of legends. Not with brute force, but with skill and patience. The system’s error message had vanished, replaced by a new notification only I could see.

I slid into her with one smooth thrust, swallowing her cry with another kiss. She was tight, hot, perfect. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I took her there on the banquet table, each movement driving us both closer to the edge.

Her nails dug into my back. “Harder,” she demanded, voice breaking. The proud conqueror reduced to begging in my arms. Exactly as it should be.

I gave her what she wanted, pounding into her with controlled power while my skill continued its work—rewriting her memories of our past conflicts, planting seeds of devotion that would bloom into complete submission over time.

When she came, it was with a shout that echoed through the hall. Her body clenched around me like a vice, pulling me over the edge with her. I spilled deep inside, marking her in the most primal way possible.

For a long moment we stayed locked together, breathing hard. Her eyes when they finally met mine held something new—wonder, confusion, and unmistakable hunger for more.

“What… what did you do to me?” she whispered, even as her fingers traced lazy patterns on my chest.

I smiled, brushing damp hair from her forehead.

“I caught the biggest fish in the river,” I murmured. “And now I’m going to take her home.”

The system window reappeared, this time without errors. Golden text scrolled across my vision.

I kissed her again, slower this time. The Little Conqueror of Jiangdong was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now mine. And this was only the beginning of my rewrite of the Three Kingdoms.