[The Written Exam - 10 Minutes In]
The scratching of pencils was the only sound in the room, a dry, rhythmic scraping against the silence.
Ibiki Morino stood at the front, arms crossed, radiating an aura of intimidation that made the weaker Genin tremble in their boots.
I looked at the test paper.
Question 1: Decipher the rotational velocity of a shuriken thrown from a tree of height H, accounting for wind resistance coefficient X and chakra drag Y...
Question 2: Explain the geopolitical ramifications of the Second Shinobi War on the current trade routes of the Land of Tea.
"Trash," I muttered, spinning my pencil between my fingers. "Who calculates drag? You just throw it harder."
I didn't need to solve these. I had the [System Item: Answer Key (Chunin Exam Year 65)]. It cost me a meager 50 SP. A bargain for guaranteed success.
I casually filled in the answers, making sure to get one wrong on purpose so it didn't look too suspicious. Perfectly imperfect.
Around me, the cheating had begun in earnest.
Sasuke was using his Sharingan to copy the hand movements of a guy in the front row.Gaara had created a Third Eye out of sand, floating near the ceiling like a gritty surveillance drone.Kankuro "went to the bathroom" (aka, swapped places with his puppet, Crow).Shino... well, his bugs were crawling on people's papers. Gross, but effective.
I leaned back in my chair, putting my hands behind my head, looking like I was on vacation.
I looked to my left.
Ino Yamanaka sat there. She was sweating bullets. She hadn't written a single word. Her teammates, Shikamaru and Choji, were equally blank.
Ino bit her thumb, desperate. She made a hand seal under the desk.
Mind Body Switch Jutsu.
She aimed at Sakura. Blocked. Sakura's inner spirit was a raging banshee. Too dangerous. She aimed at Sasuke. Blocked. Too emo. His trauma shielded him like a wall.
She looked at me.
Kenji... he's smart. He looks relaxed. He's smiling! He must have the answers!
I saw her lock eyes with me.
"Oh?" I smirked internally. "Coming in for a visit, Ino?"
Normally, she wouldn't be able to invade my mind. The [Gamer's Mind] passive skill blocks all mental intrusions. It's an absolute defense.
But... I decided to make a special exception.
"System," I commanded silently. "Lower the firewall for Ino Yamanaka. But redirect her path. Send her to the... 'Special Gallery'."
[System: Redirecting intruder to Folder: /Future_Desires/.]
Ino's hands formed the seal.
"Transfer!"
Ino's body slumped forward on the desk.
*****
[Inside Kenji's Mindscape]
Ino opened her eyes.
Usually, a mindscape is a representation of the person's psyche. Sakura's was a boxing ring. Shikamaru's was a lazy cloud drift.
Kenji's mindscape... was a Dungeon.
The walls were lined with red velvet. The lighting was dim and sultry.
"What is this?" Ino whispered, looking around.
She walked past a display case. Inside wasn't a kunai or a scroll. It was a wooden horse with straps. Next to it was a collection of vibrating devices she had never seen before.
"Is he... is he running a torture chamber?" Ino shivered.
Then, she heard sounds.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Moan.
"Oh god... Kenji... yes! Right there!"
The voice was familiar. Intimately familiar.
Curiosity warring with fear, Ino crept toward the heavy oak door where the sounds were coming from. She peeked through the crack.
Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
Inside the room was a massive, circular bed.
And on that bed were five men.
They were all Kenji. Shadow Clones.
Ino's gaze was drawn downward instantly.
"N-Nine inches..." she choked out, her face turning atomic red. "That's... that's a weapon of war!"
But the Kenjis weren't alone.
entangled in the mass of limbs was a woman. She was naked, her skin glistening with sweat and oil. Her blonde hair was fanned out across the silk sheets.
One Kenji was buried deep inside her pussy, pounding away with a rhythm that shook the bedframe. Another Kenji was at her mouth, getting deep-throated. Two others were kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were dark red. The last one was spanking her ass, leaving bright red handprints on the pale flesh.
SMACK.
"Count them!" The Kenji behind her growled.
"Twenty... ahhh! Twenty-one!" The woman screamed in ecstasy, her eyes rolling back.
Ino covered her eyes. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"
But she couldn't look away. She peeked through her fingers.
Her body in the real world reacted. A phantom heat pooled in her belly. A strange, tingly sensation throbbed between her legs. Her hand, in the mental world, drifted down to her crotch, rubbing against the fabric of her mind-skirt.
"Who is she?" Ino whispered, squinting. "She looks... incredible."
The woman on the bed had an hourglass figure that put Tsunade to shame. Her legs were long, her waist snatched.
The Kenji behind the woman grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.
"Look at me," he commanded.
The woman turned her face toward the "camera" (Ino's viewpoint).
Ino froze. Her heart stopped.
The woman... was Her.
It wasn't the twelve-year-old Ino. It was an older, mature, devastatingly beautiful version of Ino. The Ino from the future—the MILF of the Boruto era, but even lewder.
"M-Me?!" Ino gasped.
The Future-Ino on the bed winked at the hidden observer.
"More, Kenji! Breeds me! Fill me up with your babies!" Future-Ino begged, drool leaking from her mouth.
"As you wish."
The Kenji inside her thrust deep, bottoming out.
SHLUCK.
"AAAAHHHH!"
Real-Ino felt her knees buckle. She was wet. So wet. The visual of herself getting ravaged by five well-hung Kenjis was too much for her genin brain to handle.
Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She spun around.
Standing there was the real Kenji (mental projection), fully naked, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.
"Are you enjoying the preview, Ino?" he whispered, his voice echoing in her skull. "That's the premium package."
"NO! NO! MY EYES!"
Ino screamed and frantically performed the release seal.
"RELEASE! RELEASE! GET ME OUT!"
****
[Real World]
"GAAAAH!"
Ino shot up in her seat, gasping for air like a drowning victim. Her chair screeched against the floor.
Her face was the color of a ripe tomato. Steam was literally rising from her head. Her chest was heaving.
"Ino?" Shikamaru whispered from behind her. "Did you get the answers? What happened?"
"I... I..." Ino looked at me with pure horror mixed with morbid, undeniable curiosity. Her pupils were dilated. "I saw... things... Shikamaru... oh god... so many of them..."
She covered her face, whimpering. She clamped her legs together tight. She could feel the dampness in her panties, uncomfortable and cold against her skin.
I'm soaking wet, she realized with horror. In the middle of the exam!
"You okay there, Ino?" I whispered, kicking her chair leg lightly. I didn't look up from my paper. "Enjoy the tour?"
Ino flinched violently.
"You're sick!" she hissed, though she didn't look away. Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper. "W-Was that... real? The... size?"
"A prototype," I winked, spinning my pencil. "Stop by my place later. I'll give you a live demo. No clones required."
Ino buried her face in her hands, shaking. "PERVERT!"
"Number 72! Silence!" The proctor shouted, throwing a piece of chalk at Ino.
BONK.
It hit her forehead.
"S-Sorry!" Ino squeaked.
She sat there for the rest of the exam, unable to focus on anything but the memory of that room. And the fact that she needed to change her underwear immediately.
[System Notification]
[Mental Trauma Successful.]
[Ino Yamanaka Status: Corrupted (Level 1).]
[Shameless Points: +2,000.]
Author's Note:
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