episode_0024

Of course, it was less an invitation and more like I pushed my way in because she was disoriented, but isn’t there a saying about the sacrifice of the few for the many?

In this Eclipse Point, where megacorps run rampant, devising all sorts of ways to squeeze the common folk, that proverb resonates even more.

I was served synthetic chamomile tea, brewed with a synthetic tea bag in a kettle that boiled water bubbling within three seconds of being put on, and I looked at the woman sitting on the bed, sipping her tea, seeming a little calmer.

“Thank you… You truly saved my life.”

“No need for thanks. More importantly, I have something I want to ask you. What was that guy?”

The woman, who had been gradually steadying her breath, pursed her lips as if she didn’t want to answer my question, but perhaps unable to withstand my gaze after I instantly killed that assailant, she soon opened her mouth again.

I don’t know what she was thinking, letting me into her room when she was this scared.

Perhaps it’s because I looked like a greenhorn, still disoriented, so she didn’t guard against me.

“Uh… that person was my senior.”

“Senior?”

“Yes. Actually, I’m not a resident of Tonybony; I’m here on a business trip…”

In fact, it was easy to tell at a glance that this woman wasn’t a resident of Tonybony.

People living in Tonybony wear thick, rough clothing that doesn’t expose their skin, perhaps thinking that smog will have other effects even with filter cyberware equipped, and more than that, most of them don’t even have the money to stay in a hostel like this.

Because in this damn city, accommodation fees are astronomical.

“Was that senior perhaps affiliated with Hellstream or something…?”

“Oh, no! We came together a week ago, and he disappeared, but then he suddenly reappeared today and ran at me like a madman to grab me, so I had no choice but to… Besides, where would salarymen like us get the money to buy cyberware…?”

Indeed, that’s true.

To attach something as bizarre as that, not just basic cyberware, it would have to be custom-made, meaning it would cost a fortune.

“Anyway, I want to ask if you know anything about a guy named Bram Stoker. I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

“…”

The woman licked her lips, moistening them, and avoided my gaze.

She seemed to know something but didn’t want to tell me.

I’d learned various ways to make my tongue smooth over the past month of work, but I felt a bit reluctant to do something drastic to a normal salarywoman, not a mercenary or a gang member.

[Would you like to upload a hormone-disrupting asset, created by referencing intercourse data, to the subject’s neural net?]

‘Let’s go for a peaceful approach.’

[Confirmed. Personal cyberspace infiltration complete. Distributing asset.]

I could feel that the performance of the thing inside my head had improved slightly from before.

In truth, it might just be that I wasn’t using it properly, but it seems to be growing based on my actions and surrounding information.

I thought it might become a super-AI, not just a strong AI, soon, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it, so I decided to let it be.

Since AIs supposedly never forget their initial objective, it shouldn’t harm me, who is currently set as ‘guardian spirit’.

“Ugh?!”

The woman’s back arched smoothly, and her sweat-soaked shirt, which had been cooling, seemed to become damp again.

“What’s happening suddenly…?”

Feeling something strange happening to her body, the woman’s face flushed with embarrassment, and as if she was hot, she suddenly began to unbutton her shirt.

When only a man and a woman are alone in a secluded place where no one is watching, and one of them starts taking off their clothes, only one thing happens.

I gave the woman a slight push, and she easily tumbled onto the bed.

The woman collapsed onto the bed, feeling something was off, but her thoughts weren’t connecting well, and she looked at me with a dazed gaze, unable to comprehend.

I fiddled with the tips of her engorged nipples peeking out from under her shirt and climbed on top of her.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then so be it. Let’s talk again once we get a little closer.”

***

“Aah♥ Hnng♥ Too big..!♥”

Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!

As the woman’s plump buttocks, kneeling on all fours in front of the dark window overlooking the streets of Tonybony, moved back and forth, the penis repeatedly crushed the soft vaginal flesh, thrusting deep and then roughly pulling out.

With each attempted thrust, screams of sexual pleasure erupted from the woman’s lips.

The virus, Molotov Libido, directly manufactured by the super-AI Ayakashi, using Mason’s sex-roid stimulation threshold as a sample.

With this virus, capable of tricking the brain into replicating a similar stimulation threshold if only a few conditions are met, the woman, moaning and whimpering while impaled on my penis, was experiencing sensitivity comparable to Mason with his stimulation control system disengaged.

Smack!

As my palm firmly slapped the woman’s buttocks, squirt! water sprayed from below, soaking the bedsheets.

A deep, drawn-out moan of pleasure.

I accessed the identity code of the woman, whose eyes were rolled back, using physical hacking and displaying it on her back as a screen.

“Emily Miller, 27, investigative reporter for TNEP (The News Eclipse Point). Residence: Centum Street No.6 Mega Apartment, 33rd floor, Unit 4.”

“Nyah-ha♥ I’m a reporter♥♥ I came to Tonybony to investigate a famous urban legend♥”

The woman’s identity was a reporter for TNEP, one of the local newspapers in the Eclipse Point area.

It seems she came to investigate Bram Stoker and ended up in such a predicament.

Anyway, thinking how fearless she was, I slapped Emily’s swaying buttocks one more time, then enjoyed the tightening pussy gripping my straining dick.

Even mercenaries were attacked and found as mummified corpses drained of blood, yet they sent two journalists, not even properly cybernetically enhanced, to wander around looking for Bram Stoker.

One of them had already become a victim and passed away.

“Corporations are really indifferent, aren’t they? They don’t care about the lives of ordinary common folk like us.”

“That’s right♥ I had no choice even if I was scared♥ Ah, that feels good♥♥”

But even if their lives were in danger, there’s no way a mere reporter could exercise veto power against a corporate decision.

Because being fired and unable to find work in the same industry again, ending up on the streets, likely has a higher mortality rate than facing danger while reporting.

Emily was truly lucky that I found her before she died, allowing her to receive my special clinic treatment like this.

Life really is 70% luck, 30% skill [a proverb about luck and effort].

Emily’s pussy wasn’t specifically modified with sex-roid cyberware, nor was her original body extraordinary, but I liked how her soft, delicate pussy worked hard to squeeze my dick.

Enough that I might stick my dick in her if I ran into her on the street sometimes.

Of course, sticking my dick into Emily’s pussy and passing the time wasn’t the main objective.

“It would be great if you could tell me what you’ve found out about Bram Stoker during your investigation so far.”

“Haaaang♥ Even so, that, that’s a little…”

Emily, ecstatic from my dick strongly scraping her vaginal walls, still hesitated and trailed off when asked to share information.

In response, I grabbed her swaying buttocks and stopped them.

Then, Emily wiggled her buttocks, trying to rub her pussy against my dick, but it wasn’t enough, and she looked back at me with pathetic eyes.

Her eyes looked so wronged that for a moment, I thought I had done something wrong.

Could it be that she thinks if she tells me, all her achievements will be taken away?

“Don’t worry. I’m not from a rival newspaper; I’m just a mercenary. I just want to catch this guy, Bram Stoker.”

“Ugh… Even so..! You know how exclusive the residents of Tonybony are! How much trouble I went through to gather it… Hngh?!”

Plunge! I suddenly thrust my stopped dick deep inside, hitting Emily’s innermost part.

As my dick pushed aside her wet flesh and lightly touched her cervix, the reporter’s spine trembled, and her pussy suddenly tightened.

“I know how much trouble you went through. Instead, if you tell me, I’ll let you interview Bram Stoker once I catch him.”

“Uh-huhng..♥ An… interview?”

“Yes, exclusively! And the EPSB is putting a bounty of 300,000 credits on Bram Stoker, aren’t they?”

Emily’s flushed ears twitched as if intrigued.

“I also have colleagues, so if I catch him, we’ll have to share the reward… but I’ll make sure you get a cut from that too.”

“Hmm… what should I do?♥”

Emily’s buttocks, having swallowed my dick to the root, swayed gently, brushing against my lower abdomen.

She pretended to be deep in thought, but perhaps knowing that refusing would end the sex, Emily needlessly pushed her buttocks against me, trying to be cute, as if to make me focus on sex.

She was so lewd, luring me with movements that made my dick harder than Mason’s pathetic pussy.

Of course, sex was good, but a lump sum of 300,000 credits made me overcome that temptation.

Smack! My hand struck her buttocks hard, a satisfying sound spreading as it left a red mark.

As if startled by the sudden pain, Emily trembled, burying her face in the bed.

“I’ll tell you everything♥♥ I’m sorry for being presumptuous as a reporter♥ Just please keep thrusting into my pussy♥♥♥”

Having successfully concluded a dramatic negotiation in a moderate manner, I decided to reward Emily by thrusting my dick into her as much as she wanted.

“Good, you’re a good pussy.”

A long, drawn-out moan of ecstasy.

Squish- Prostate fluid soaked the bed, and seemingly endless semen burst out, gurgle gurgle, to fill the pussy that tightly gripped my dick.

“Incident identification name: Bram Stoker… Starting with a resident assault incident approximately 57 days ago, an average of 2-3 assaults began occurring daily. The initial incident location was…”

Fortunately, I was able to learn about the viciousness of Bram Stoker, rampaging in Tonybony, by inserting the report chipset Emily provided into my neural socket and opening the file.

A serial killer who had created approximately 150 victims in just two months.

Excluding terrorist organizations or the mafia, it was the highest level of criminal intensity for an individual perpetrator, but because the damage was limited to Tonybony, a slum where even commoners, but rather gutter dwellers, gathered, it seemed the news hadn’t leaked to other districts.

Or, Bram Stoker or a business operator connected to Tonybony might have bribed the intelligence department.

“He’s killed a lot of people. It’s surprising this hasn’t been publicized.”

“Hnng♥ It’s because various interests are intertwined… It seems they’re intentionally downplaying the incident♥♥”

Squish squish The large penis continued to thrust back and forth in the sticky pussy, already full of semen, as if it wasn’t enough.

Emily wrapped her legs around my waist like a loop, her hand rubbing her slightly distended belly, and came with an enraptured expression as my semen, glugging inside, again tried to fill her.

“One peculiar detail is that even if the crime is witnessed, it’s not observed on CCTV? Does that make sense?”

As I skimmed through the report, I found a strange detail. I gave a slight thrust, pressing firmly into Emily’s vaginal walls, and her waist bounced thump-thump on the bed.

People observed him with their own eyes, yet he couldn’t be seen by video devices that should serve as evidence. Could Bram Stoker really be a ghost?

I had Ayakashi search if such cyberware existed, and while there were a few cyberware with stealth or camouflage functions, no cyberware existed that was visible to the naked eye but invisible to recording devices.

He might be using some new type of military cyberware.

I wondered if I should contact Ricardo, the leader of the Chrome-enthusiasts, and ask, but that could wait until after I informed my comrades.

As an utterly exhausted Emily collapsed onto the bed, passed out, I lay beside her, smoking a cigarette, and commanded Ayakashi.

‘Ayakashi. Send all this information to everyone now.’

[Contacts: Jay Q, Blake Onum, Raleigh. Information regarding identifying name Bram Stoker has been sent.]

Bram Stoker’s crime times, locations, and victims’ personal information.

This was very deep information for a mere reporter to gather, but from the perspective of a newspaper that needs to write sensational articles to increase subscribers, it was naturally the kind of information they would have to collect.

But with this level of investigative power, shouldn’t she have just joined the EPSB?

“Oh, right.”

I launched a portable camera drone, pulled the semen-soaked Emily closer, took a picture with my fully erect dick prominently displayed, and sent it to Luna.

“If you had fun, you need a proof shot, right?”

[This AI does not recommend this action…]

“Send.”

[Confirmed.]

***

Ding- A message arrived on a personal channel.

Luna, who had just taught Mason, now living above her shop, the day’s cocktail recipes and was wiping glasses, tilted her head at the message sent by John.

“Huh? Has he already identified Bram Stoker? Considering the size of the area, it should still be in the investigation phase… He just has incredibly good luck.”

Less than a day had passed, but if he was lucky enough, it wasn’t impossible, so Luna opened the received message, intending to reply telling him to treat her.

And there, an image file was plastered prominently.

A semen-soaked, orange-haired woman, unconscious and held by John on the bed.

Scattered glasses and a cross-bag, often used by investigative reporters, tossed far away.

Lastly, the image of an idiot flaunting his stiff, erect dick as if it wasn’t enough.

“Son of a bitch.”

Luna clenched her teeth, expressing subtle anger at the idiot who was already sleeping with another woman, so soon after heading to Tonybony.

Below it was written, ‘Still, your breasts are the best, Luna,’ but she wasn’t grateful at all.

“When he gets back, I’ll have to break his dick so he can never use it again..! Or maybe I’ll just make it detachable?”

Slap, slap, slap

She said that, but soon, Luna had forgotten telling Mason and John that her bar wasn’t a sex club, and she was touching her pussy while looking at the image sent to her on the bar counter.

Slap, slap, slap

Mason had gone into the workshop, and in the quiet, empty bar, the sound of wet squishing echoed.

“I helped him for nothing. Ohh, ahh!♡ I’m coming..!♡”