What's this? Why didn't they cover her eyes? What's the point of just covering her mouth? If the tape on her mouth comes off, wouldn't she be able to use her skill? Or do they not remove the tape when feeding her? What if she uses her skill then?
All sorts of thoughts ran through my mind before I shook them off and asked the women:
"Were you two kidnapped?"
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
"Uuuhmm! Mmmph!"
The women looked at each other, their eyes filling with hope—hope that they might survive, that they might escape this place.
As I moved to remove the tape from their mouths, I hesitated for a moment.
This couldn't be a trap, right? No way they'd set something up while looking like this. Still, better to be cautious.
Thanks to my paranoid nature and safety-first mindset, I carefully peeled the tape off one of the women's mouths first.
"Pwah!"
"You, what's your skill?"
"M-me? I have Ice Arrow..."
"Ice Arrow?"
I was surprised.
An offensive skill? And yet she ended up like this?
"Show me."
The woman nervously looked at the wall and shouted:
"Ice Arrow!"
Slowly, an arrow made of ice formed in front of her before shooting forward and embedding itself into the wall.
Looking at it, I understood why she'd been captured.
It took nearly four seconds for the ice arrow to form, and its speed was slow enough to track with the naked eye.
A complete mess of a skill.
Four seconds to form? You could kill someone twice in that time. And at that speed, anyone could dodge it just by watching its trajectory.
Even if it hit, it wouldn't be lethal—just painful. In short, a garbage skill.
Shouldn't she have at least trained with it first? Did she just walk around like this without practicing?
Her skill posed no threat to me, so I left her be and moved to remove the tape from the second woman's mouth.
"Haa, haa..."
"What's your skill?"
"I-I have... Slow."
"Slow? As in, slowing things down?"
"Haa. Yeah, yeah."
The second woman panted as she answered.
Slow? That didn't seem particularly useful either.
"Show me."
"Huh? On what?"
I looked around and spotted an empty plastic bottle on the floor.
"I'll throw this. Use it on that."
"Okay."
I tossed the bottle, and the woman stared at it before shouting:
"Slow!"
But the bottle fell without any change in speed. I gave her a puzzled look.
"I-I missed. Sorry."
Now I see why she got caught. Ugh.
I threw the bottle again, and she used Slow once more.
This time, it must have hit—the bottle slowed slightly midair before dropping at a leisurely pace.
Seriously? That's it? It doesn't even stop completely, and it's not auto-targeted?
Living in this world has taught me one thing: not everyone is rational or smart.
People don't always pick the best skills, and even fewer master them completely.
If you're given an ability, shouldn't you at least train until you can use it perfectly? Improve your proficiency, figure out how to apply it?
But this is reality.
People who aren't used to games, who make weak excuses, who lack adaptability.
What can you do? If they can't cut it, they die.
"Stay still."
When I pulled out my machete, the women flinched, but once they saw me cutting their ropes, they relaxed.
Still, having a blade moving between them made them uneasy.
Snap.
The ropes fell away, and as the women regained their freedom, they let out sighs of relief.
Too exhausted to cover themselves, their naked bodies were fully exposed.
Ice Arrow was petite, with a slim figure and modest chest—the type to make fans of slender girls drool. Slow was slightly chubby but not quite plump, not bad to look at but not particularly attractive either.
Neither had especially pretty faces—just your average women in their 20s.
Who knows how they got caught, but the men who took them probably weren't in a position to be picky.
"Let me ask you one thing."
"Huh?"
"Y-yes?"
The women looked at me nervously, likely because I was still holding the machete. I sheathed it and spoke.
"Among the group that captured you, was there a woman in her early 30s? Do you know what her skill was?"
The women quickly shared what they knew.
"Petrification!"
"Anything she touches turns to stone!"
"Turns to stone when touched?"
"Yeah! She touches someone, shouts 'Petrify!', and the part she touched starts turning to stone. Once they're fully stone, they just... disappear."
"Could she only do it by touching someone?"
"I-I'm not sure. I only saw it once."
"Me too..."
If the skill requires saying its name, it's not that scary.
Unless it's an auto-activating skill, just knocking her out would be enough.
Petrification, huh? Needing physical contact is a bit of a downside. If it worked from a distance, she wouldn't have needed to touch someone first. Probably not a trick, then.
With the information I needed, I turned to the women.
"Go. You're free."
They weren't a threat, and they weren't my type.
No reason to kill them, and no desire to fuck them either.
The women hesitated, as if they couldn't believe it.
"I said go. I'm not gonna do anything. I don't want anything from you, and I'm not gonna kill you, so just leave."
Even after that, they didn't move. Losing interest, I turned to leave—I had business with the petrification woman downstairs.
At least she looked decent, even if she was a bit older.
"U-um!"
As I stepped out, Slow called after me.
"What?"
Annoyed, I glanced back, and she shrank under my gaze before speaking.
"C-could you... help us?"
She put on the most pitiful expression she could. Ice Arrow seemed to share the sentiment.
Ugh. What, now that I saved them, they want me to carry their bags too?
If they'd been even slightly pretty or had nice bodies—my type—I might've helped without being asked. But as it was, I just didn't care.
To be precise, I didn't even want to fuck them. It'd feel like a waste of cum.
"Why should I?"
"W-well... you already saved us..."
Her hesitant reply started to irritate me.
"So because I saved you, I'm responsible for you?"
She shut her mouth, unable to answer.
"Ugh. So annoying. No shame at all."
I turned away, muttering under my breath, and the women slumped in defeat.
Seriously, what a pain.
No shame, no conscience, and not even charming enough to make up for it... Judging by how they act, they'll probably end up like this again soon—or dead.
I decided to ignore them and headed downstairs to the petrification woman.
Tch. Just looking at her got me excited—that mature city-woman look.
Plus, her face was pretty enough that I could feel myself hardening already.
Looks really are everything.
I'd heard about the petrification skill, but just in case, I poked and prodded her with different things, even tapping her with my fingertip.
When nothing happened, I carried her to the couch. Her skirt had ridden up, exposing her smooth, sensual thighs.
I ran my hand along them.
Soft. I stroked gently before sliding my fingers toward her inner thighs.
The warmth against my skin sent a lewd thrill through me.
I slipped both hands under her skirt, grabbed her panties, and yanked them down.
After tossing them aside, I spread her legs, revealing her bare pussy.
Even in a world like this, she keeps herself groomed? Impressive.
A 30-year-old who takes care of herself, huh?
Her chest was big, her waist narrow—she probably looked great in clothes like this.
I wanted to see her tits, but I wasn't sure how to undress her.
Would I have to pull her long sleeves all the way off? The front was open, but not enough to pull them out.
Too lazy to figure it out, I just cut the front with scissors and tore it open.
Rendering the outfit useless, but better than the hassle.
I snipped the middle of her bra, and the padding inside plopped out.
Ugh, what the hell? Padded?
Her chest wasn't that small—a solid B-cup. But the D-cup illusion her clothes created was a total scam. Disappointing.
Tch. Fucking fraud.
But I'd gone this far—no way I wasn't going to fuck her.
I spat on my d
ickhead, then gripped my shaft and rubbed it against her pussy before pushing in.
Dry and tight—not easy to enter.
As I groped her chest and rocked my hips slowly, her nipples stiffened under my fingers.
The stimulation made her pussy gradually grow wetter.
Once enough slickness coated my dick, I pushed deeper.
When I was fully sheathed, she finally seemed alive again.
Her pussy clenched tightly.
Not much experience? Or just naturally tight? Either way, it felt amazing.
Tch. If only her tits weren't fake, she'd be perfect.
With three minutes left on the sleep timer, I kept my dick inside her while pulling out tape.
I covered her eyes and mouth, then bound her arms behind her back.
Now she couldn't resist or use her skill.
For the remaining time, I leaned against the couch, lazily thrusting into her.
When the sleep timer ended, she jolted awake.
"Mmmph! Mmm!"
Good, good—love that lively reaction.
Realizing something was inside her, she thrashed violently, but her arms were tied and I was between her legs, limiting her movement.
I considered slapping her but didn't want to risk the tape coming loose, so I punched her stomach instead.
"Ghuh—!"
The sudden blow made her gasp and curl forward.
The movement made her pussy clench even tighter around my dick.
Oh? This feels pretty good.
Like a kid discovering a new toy, I grinned and started moving my hips.