---
[Residential District, Narrow Alleyway — One Hour Earlier, 1:52 PM]
『A beautiful widow has caught the attention of the neighborhood's foul-smelling pervert. You've decided to follow and observe what leverage this creep has over such a stunning woman. If you can seize that leverage for yourself...』
Riku dismissed the narration with a flick of his tongue against his teeth.
Ever since his attribute points had risen, his thoughts ran with a crystalline clarity that bordered on uncomfortable.
'Your suggested approach carries unnecessary risk,' he murmured, watching the greasy silhouette waddle through the afternoon shadows. 'All I need to do is wait until the pervert makes his move, scare him off in the dim environment, and activate 「Shameless Thief」. Clean execution.'
As if responding to his logic, the narration shifted.
『A beautiful widow has caught the attention of the neighborhood pervert. You've decided to wait until he attempts something indecent—then take his place...』
The meaning tracked, but something about the narration's phrasing made Riku's eye twitch.
Whatever.
He'd already decided to skip class again.
Delinquents cutting school in Tokyo was about as noteworthy as vending machines selling hot coffee. Teachers maintained a loose grip on attendance—self-motivation or failure, pick your poison. Nobody would come looking for one more bleached-blond dropout haunting the back alleys.
---
[Narrow Alley, Behind the Convenience Store — 2:03 PM]
The corridor between buildings barely qualified as a passage.
Garbage bags slumped against water-stained concrete. A broken fluorescent tube buzzed overhead, casting everything in sickly yellow intervals. The air hung thick with mildew and the sweet rot of something decomposing in a nearby dumpster.
And cutting through it all—the rancid musk of unwashed flesh.
"I..."
Hirose Kaguya pressed her spine against the grimy wall, her body retreating centimeter by centimeter from the mass of sweating meat advancing on her.
This can't be happening. This can't be—
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Her shoulders trembled against the cold brick. Her hands flew up to shield her chest, fingers curling into the fabric of her cream cardigan like it could form some kind of barrier.
The chikan's bulk filled the narrow space completely.
He was enormous in the wrong way—soft where muscle should be, his gut straining against a polo shirt yellowed at the armpits. Greasy hair plastered to a scalp that gleamed with perspiration. His breath came in wet, labored gasps that carried the stench of tooth decay and cheap convenience store bento.
Every inhale Hirose Kaguya took made her want to retch.
Disgusting. So disgusting.
But what could she do?
A widow. No husband to call. No one waiting at home except her daughter—her sweet, innocent Yoru who this thing had threatened to target next if Hirose Kaguya didn't comply.
If enduring this once means Yoru stays safe...
She couldn't think beyond that single desperate calculation.
Her mind refused to process what came after—how predators like this never stopped at once. How he'd photograph her humiliation and use it as further leverage. How the spiral only ever tightened.
Fear and exhaustion had eroded her ability to see past the immediate horror.
Please... someone...
The chikan's meaty hand reached toward her face.
"Hey, old man."
A voice cut through the stench and shadow.
"Your filthy paw is about to touch the lady."
---
Riku emerged from the alley's mouth with all the urgency of someone browsing a bookstore.
His phone was raised, flashlight blazing, the harsh white beam pinning the chikan's profile in unforgiving detail—every pore, every bead of sweat, every roll of fat rendered in high definition.
He approached at a stroll, his bleached hair catching the light like a warning flare.
Crunch.
His sneaker came down on something scattered across the filthy concrete. Photographs. Polaroids. He crouched without breaking eye contact with the chikan, scooping up the incriminating images one by one.
"Your blackmail game is pretty low-tier, old man."
The chikan's piggy eyes swiveled toward this new obstacle.
Just a scrawny kid. Dyed hair. Probably some dropout punk who thinks he's hot shit.
"Where the hell did you come from, you little bastard?"
The fat man abandoned his position near Hirose Kaguya, rotating his bulk to face Riku instead. His meaty fist cocked back.
A straight punch—telegraphed, slow, powered more by mass than technique.
Three months ago, Riku might have taken that hit.
Now?
His body shifted laterally with the fluid economy of someone operating on different hardware entirely. The fist sailed past his jaw close enough to feel the displaced air. His enhanced attributes had pushed him well beyond ordinary human parameters—reaction time, spatial awareness, raw physical output.
Before the chikan could recover, Riku's right hook connected with his temple.
Thwack.
The impact was surgical. Precisely enough force to scramble equilibrium without causing permanent damage.
The chikan's eyes rolled. His massive body careened sideways, bounced off the brick wall with a meaty thud, and slid down to the garbage-strewn ground. His flesh jiggled with residual momentum even after he'd stopped moving.
Riku clicked off the flashlight.
"Sexual assault carries one to three years," he said, his voice flat. "Maybe more, depending on the judge's mood."
The chikan lay in a heap, wheezing, his body still twitching.
"Get out."
That did it.
The fat man scrambled upright with surprising speed, shooting Riku a look of pure venom—but the phone in the teenager's hand kept his tongue leashed. Actual prison time meant actual prison showers. A physique like his would attract very specific attention from inmates with very specific preferences.
He fled.
His footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the urban hum of the city beyond the alley.
---
Silence settled over the narrow corridor.
Just the two of them now.
Hirose Kaguya remained crouched against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees, her body still wracked with tremors. Her dark hair had come loose from its careful arrangement, strands sticking to tear-streaked cheeks.
The narration stirred in Riku's awareness.
『You notice the area is deserted. The environment is optimal. Your sudden appearance has provided the widow Hirose Kaguya with tremendous psychological comfort. She needs a man to lean on—to support her household, or perhaps to help her in... other ways. A woman deprived of affection for so long, already emotionally destabilized by fear and adrenaline, will find her resistance crumbling in dim surroundings like these. All you need to do is...』
Morally questionable? Absolutely.
But there was no better test subject for confirming whether following the delinquent narration actually yielded special rewards.
Riku closed the distance.
---
She was beautiful, even like this.
Mid-thirties, he guessed. The kind of mature elegance that anime heroines in their twenties couldn't replicate—a softness in her features that spoke of experience, of loss, of resilience worn thin. Her cardigan had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the strap of a modest bra against pale skin. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, panicked breaths.
Just a kid, Hirose Kaguya thought dimly. The one who saved me is just a kid. Young enough to be—
The thought fragmented.
Riku stood directly in front of her now.
『「Shameless Thief」Successfully Activated! Target: Hirose Kaguya. Rationality reduced by 90%. Emotional response amplified by 90%. (Antagonistic activities now viable.)』
So that's how it works.
The ability didn't create attraction from nothing. It functioned more like... removing the brakes. Dismantling the rational barriers that kept buried desires buried. Amplifying whatever embers already existed until they became wildfire.
Hirose Kaguya's eyes went glassy.
Her trembling stopped.
And then she moved.
---
She shot upright with a speed that caught even Riku off-guard, her arms looping around his neck, her body pressing flush against his before he could react.
Her mouth found his.
Not the tentative, inexperienced kisses he'd shared with Tachibana Haru or Yukigami Nahiro. This was hunger. This was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to take it.
Her tongue pried his lips apart without hesitation, sliding past his teeth to explore with confident, practiced strokes. She tasted like green tea and something darker—desperation, maybe. Loneliness fermented into need.
Nngh—
Riku felt himself harden almost instantly.
Before he could establish control, Hirose Kaguya had rotated them both.
Thud.
His back hit the wall.
He was being kabedon'd. By a widow. In a dirty alley that smelled like garbage and mildew.
This wasn't exactly the plan.
But 「Shameless Thief」 didn't just lower inhibitions—it ignited everything a person had been suppressing. Years of solitude. The weight of single parenthood. The atrophied hunger of a body that hadn't been touched since her husband's death.
All of it detonated at once.
Hirose Kaguya kissed him like she was trying to consume him, her breasts crushing against his chest with every desperate breath. He could feel their weight even through layers of clothing—soft, substantial, yielding to the pressure of their contact.
Her hand dropped to his waistband.
Fingers worked his belt with frightening efficiency.
Ziiiip.
Slender digits—soft as silk, slightly cold from shock—wrapped around his length and squeezed.
"Ah—"
Riku's breath caught.
She stroked once. Twice. Three times—her grip firm enough to mean business, her rhythm already calibrating to his responses.
This is so different from—
From Tachibana's clumsy exploration. From the innocent fumbling of girls his own age who learned technique from smartphone screens.
This was experience.
Hirose Kaguya sank to her knees.
---
The first wet kiss landed on his tip, and Riku's hips jerked involuntarily.
"Haaah..."
Her lips parted around him, sliding down with practiced ease, her tongue working the underside in slow, deliberate strokes. No gagging. No hesitation. She took him deep enough that he felt the back of her throat, held there for a heartbeat, then withdrew with agonizing slowness—only to plunge down again.
Shlurp... shlck... shlurp...
The obscene sounds echoed off the alley walls.
Her dark hair bobbed rhythmically, strands falling across her face, sticking to saliva-slicked lips. Her eyes had fluttered closed, her expression almost serene—as if this act was meditative, as if she'd forgotten everything except the flesh filling her mouth.
Riku's hands found the back of her head instinctively.
Fingers threaded through silky hair. Gripped.
"Mmph—mmmn—"
She hummed around him, the vibration sending electricity up his spine.
This is why—
This is why the great lords always favored the widows.
The comparison surfaced unbidden—how Nobunaga surrounded himself with experienced women, how the veteran heroines in isekai stories always outperformed the naive princesses. Technique mattered. Confidence mattered.
And Hirose Kaguya had both in abundance.
Her pace quickened.
"Ahh—fff—"
The pressure built at the base of his spine, coiling tighter with every stroke of her tongue, every suction, every muffled moan that vibrated through his cock.
His grip tightened on her hair.
His hips stuttered forward.
"Nnngh—!"
The release hit like a thunderclap.
"Mmmmph—!"
Hirose Kaguya's throat worked, swallowing, her eyes squeezing shut as she took everything he gave her. The muscles of her neck flexed visibly with each gulp.
When she finally pulled back, a thin strand of mixed fluids connected her lower lip to his softening length for just a moment before breaking.
She gasped for air.
Her chest heaved.
"Ma'am—"
But she was already moving again.
---
Hirose Kaguya rose to unsteady feet, her fingers flying to the buttons of her cardigan.
Fabric pooled at her feet.
Her bra followed—a simple white thing that belied the spectacular curves it had been containing. Her breasts spilled free, full and heavy, topped with dusky nipples already pebbled to stiff peaks.
She shimmied out of her skirt and panties in one motion, baring a body that had clearly been maintained despite—or perhaps because of—years of solitude. Soft belly, wide hips designed for bearing children, thighs that pressed together with the plush friction of genuine flesh.
And between them—
Wet.
Drenched, actually.
The evidence of her arousal glistened on her inner thighs, catching the feeble light. The scent of it mixed with the alley's decay—salt and musk layered over garbage and mildew.
Somehow, perversely, it worked.
Hirose Kaguya pressed herself against the opposite wall, arching her back, presenting herself with shameless clarity.
"Please..."
Her voice came out husky and broken.
"Please."
---
The narrow alley filled with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh.
Hirose Kaguya's moans echoed between brick walls—sharp, desperate cries that she made no effort to muffle. Her palms scraped against rough concrete as Riku drove into her from behind, each thrust forcing another ragged sound from her throat.
"Ahhn—! Ahh—! Yesss—!"
He could feel her clenching around him, her inner walls gripping with almost painful intensity. She was tight—impossibly tight for a mother, her body clearly having gone unused for far too long.
Plap plap plap plap—
The rhythm of impact was relentless.
His hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises—the kind of marks that would bloom purple and yellow over the following days, souvenirs of this alley coupling.
"Hahh—so—deep—!"
Her back bowed. Her head tossed back. Sweat gathered in the hollow of her spine, trailing down to where their bodies joined.
"Haahh... hahh... nngh—!"
Riku watched the ripple of her ass with each impact, the way her flesh yielded and bounced, the visible stretch of where he disappeared inside her.
His stamina was enhanced too, apparently.
The encounter lasted far longer than a normal man would manage.
By the time he finally crested—
"Kkh—!"
—Hirose Kaguya had already shattered twice, her legs trembling so badly that only his grip kept her upright.
He withdrew with a slick sound.
A trail of white followed, evidence of completion that began dripping down her quivering thighs.
---
After.
Hirose Kaguya slumped against the wall, barely able to stand. Her body still spasmed with aftershocks, her legs jerking involuntarily, her breath coming in ragged sobs.
What... what did I...
Rationality crept back like cold water filling a bathtub.
The fog lifted from her eyes.
And with clarity came horror.
I just—with a boy young enough to be—
I betrayed him. I betrayed my husband's memory.
"Ma'am..."
Hirose Kaguya forced her trembling legs to cooperate. She dressed herself with mechanical precision, refusing to meet Riku's gaze, her movements sharp with barely contained shame.
"Ma'am, let me walk you home."
Riku had already straightened his own clothes. His voice was calm, almost gentle—which somehow made it worse.
She could smell him on herself now. His scent mixed with sweat and sex, clinging to her skin, impossible to ignore.
Disgusting. I'm disgusting.
And yet—
Some treacherous part of her had already catalogued his smell. His warmth. The impossible vitality he'd shown.
"Call me... Hirose Kaguya," she managed. Her voice emerged steadier than she felt. "Or... Ma'am is fine. Whatever you prefer."
She paused.
"Thank you... for the escort."
Her legs buckled with the first step.
Years without intimacy had left her completely unprepared for Riku's stamina. Her body felt like it belonged to someone else—heavy, oversensitive, thoroughly used.
She leaned against him because she had no other choice.
His arm slipped around her waist, steady and warm.
They walked toward the alley's exit together, leaving the sordid evidence of their encounter to dry on cold concrete behind them.