"Master, we have secured a total headcount of two hundred and forty-seven within the compound. Among them, thirty-three are armed loyalists of the Yuukoku Isshinkai, and sixty-nine are able-bodied youths who fled the city grid. I have already organized them into strict labor squads using a '2-2-1' command structure. I do not foresee any insubordination arising tonight."
Inside the lavish main residence of the Takagi estate, Hachiro Takahashi stood at rigid attention, reporting the tactical situation to the new lord of the fortress.
"Tomorrow morning, ensure those Isshinkai zealots are placed directly in the vanguard—especially the specific loudmouths I pointed out to you earlier," Adrian commanded smoothly from Soichiro's former leather armchair. He pondered the logistics for a moment, then casually reached down and patted the silk-clad buttocks resting right in front of him. "Oh, by the way, Madam—what were the names of your husband's lieutenants again?"
Beneath the heavy oak desk, Yuriko Takagi twisted her body in a fit of muffled, indignant rage, but aside from making the heavy desk wobble slightly, her frantic struggle had absolutely no effect.
Her entire body had been forcefully stuffed into the hollow space underneath the desk. Her wrists and ankles were bound ruthlessly tight, rendering her completely immobile, leaving only her aristocratic head protruding from one side, and her shapely hips exposed on the other. The beautiful matron was still wearing the deep crimson evening gown she had donned that afternoon—an elegant, form-fitting outfit that made her humiliating posture appear particularly vivid and degrading.
Yuriko let out a strangled, muffled cry, and only then did Adrian feign a realization of his oversight.
"Ah, my apologies. I completely forgot that your mouth was occupied. Hachiro, what are you waiting for? Unplug the Madam."
"Yes, Master!"
Upon hearing the command, Hachiro immediately crouched down and undid the heavy leather straps buckling the gag into Yuriko's mouth.
It wasn't a standard cloth gag. It was a specialized, cruel piece of subterranean restraint hardware they had unearthed while ransacking Soichiro Takagi's private storeroom. Whether it was something the hypocritical politician had hidden away for his own dark use, or a bizarre 'gift' from a corrupt constituent, remained a mystery. But in Adrian's cynical estimation, the punishing device was perfectly suited for breaking the pride of the man's widow.
As the massive, suffocating implement was finally withdrawn from her throat, Yuriko spent a long, agonizing moment coughing and retching violently against the carpet. The device had been shoved so deep it triggered her primal gag reflex; the sensation of near-asphyxiation had made her feel as if she were drowning on dry land.
"Bastard! You sick son of a bitch! You are going to die a horrible, bloody death!"
The moment she regained her breath, Yuriko erupted, unleashing a torrential wave of aristocratic venom at the man sitting above her.
Initially, upon surrendering, Yuriko had assumed this invading monster was merely after the Takagi family's vast political wealth and her own beauty. Knowing her daughter was also in his clutches, she had coldly calculated a plan to feign total compliance, biding her time until she could find a sliver of an opportunity to assassinate him. After all, when a highly intelligent woman wants to murder a man in his sleep, there are a hundred ways to slit a throat.
However, what Yuriko hadn't anticipated was the terrifying depth of his paranoia and depravity. He didn't just want her body; he wanted her total, humiliating subjugation. Trussed up like a sacrificial lamb beneath a desk—unable to move a single muscle save for her hips—how on earth was she supposed to fight him? Was she supposed to try and butt-slam a superhuman Sword Saint to death?
"It seems the Madam is unwilling to cooperate just yet. Hachiro, put it back in."
Hearing the middle-aged beauty's vigorous, full-throated screaming, Adrian realized her aristocratic temper remained as fiery as ever. He issued the cold command without a second of hesitation. He truly hoped this proud woman could hold out for a few more days; breaking her would be infinitely more entertaining if she fought back.
"You bastard! You wouldn't dare—Mmph!"
Yuriko was poised to continue her tirade, but her voice was instantly severed. Hachiro ruthlessly forced the implement back past her teeth and strapped it tight. The intrusion was so deep her eyes rolled back; she felt the overwhelming urge to gag but couldn't even manage to push her tongue forward.
"Hachiro, pull a double shift tonight. Keep an eye on the perimeter, and make sure none of those Isshinkai stragglers cause any trouble," Adrian smiled, giving another degrading pat to the constantly squirming hips in front of him.
"To serve my Master is my absolute privilege," Hachiro bowed deeply.
"Alright, enough with the feudal flattery. You are dismissed. Rest assured, your loyalty will be rewarded."
Once Hachiro had exited the room and sealed the heavy doors, Adrian smiled and slowly spun the square desk around, bringing Yuriko's flushed, tear-streaked face into view.
"Madam, I hear you were once a brilliant financial elite on Wall Street?" Adrian asked smoothly, reaching down to trace the contour of her trembling cheek.
"Mmph!"
Yuriko lifted her head in fury, glaring at the shameless predator before her. Cold, aristocratic sparks of pure hatred blazed in her eyes. She would sooner bite off her own tongue and choke on it than lift a finger to help this demon.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Madam? Do you perhaps think I am about to interrogate you on where the Takagi family's secret treasury is hidden?" Adrian asked, his voice laced with dark amusement.
Yuriko turned her head away in absolute disdain. 'Isn't that exactly the kind of greedy parasite you are?' she thought bitterly.
The Takagi syndicate was already immensely wealthy, but coupled with the massive, publicly traded investment firm Yuriko managed, the total net worth of her bloodline amounted to hundreds of billions of yen. Such a colossal, unimaginable fortune was enough to drive any ordinary man to madness.
"It seems your brilliant Wall Street mind still hasn't grasped the reality of the situation we are currently in," Adrian sighed, gently shaking his head in mock disappointment.
The apocalypse had only just begun, and the elite's values had yet to catch up with the ashes of the new world.
"Whether it is gold bullion, U.S. dollars, or stock certificates—they are all utterly, completely worthless now. Dead paper for a dead world," Adrian stated coldly. "The only currencies that matter now are heavy firearms, clean water, antibiotics, and calories. A roll of cheap toilet paper holds infinitely more value than a briefcase of American hundreds."
He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear. "Actually, as far as I am concerned, the Takagi family's entire fortune is completely irrelevant trash. The Takagi family's true, most precious asset... is you, Yuriko."
Adrian reached out, lightly trailing his fingers over her exposed collarbone, before effortlessly spinning the desk around once more to face her bound lower half.
'Come to think of it, I really ought to design an automated mechanism for this display,' Adrian mused practically. 'And the desk creates too many obstructions. A proper restraint horse would be much more accommodating.'
Riiip—!
With a swift, brutal motion, Adrian tore the back of the deep crimson evening gown completely open, laying the beautiful woman's plump, pristine curves utterly bare to the cool air of the study.
"Mmph...!"
Beneath the desk, Yuriko began to struggle frantically, her muffled cries vibrating against the heavy wood. Although her rational mind had known the moment she surrendered that her dignity was forfeit, the abstract, strategic thought of submission was an entirely different nightmare from the stark, physical reality. She was a bound captive—utterly powerless, blind to his movements behind her, and completely at the mercy of a monster's darkest whims.
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