Beneath the concrete sky, the air was filled with night. The darkness wrapped around the pillars and the mountains of debris propping up the building cast an oppressive, leaden pall across this world.
Footsteps emerged from one corner of the seemingly infinite black. Heavy footsteps, evidence of substantial weight and volume. Even the concrete floor swayed beneath their tread.
Two shadows emerged from the gloom, Gento Roran and Siegfried’s enormous frame. But what an awful state the giant was in.
Down the front of his body, from his throat down to his waist, the flesh was split apart as if he’d been vivisected by a surgeon’s scalpel. Not a single drop of blood oozed from the wounds. He surely must be dead, as his internal organs were missing as well.
Propelling him forward could only be Gento’s necrodancing techniques. The problem was his head. It wasn’t his. Sitting on his shoulders, eyes staring forward like a dead fish, wasn’t Siegfried’s head, but Yamada’s.
They stopped in front of the great mound of dirt, that by now reached out farther than the eye could see. A shadow suddenly descended from the ceiling and landed on the ground between the mound and Gento.
“Hyota.”
“It is I.”
“I am tired. I will rest for a while.”
“You are in need of a cleaning.”
Gento touched his pale cheek. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t washed myself off since hiding inside this fellow and guiding him hither and yon.”
His face was stained with Siegfried’s blood and gore. The odor about him was something else as well.
“I shall prepare your bath.”
“First, what is the state of my abode?”
“We have at last grasped its location. We shall produce it in a day or two. But in the process, Gento-sama, I happened upon a most curious prize myself.”
“Oh? Do you have it here?”
“Yes,” Hyota said with a bow. His lower half was so short, and his upper half slumped so far forward, that when he bowed his head nearly struck the ground.
Gento gave the giant behind him a long look. “My necrodancing should keep him together for the next day or two. The rest depends on that doctor.”
“Then we should soon seek out this doctor?”
“No, let’s hear about this prize of yours first.”
Hyota nodded. He turned to the darkness behind him and beckoned with a jerk of his chin.
A pale figure appeared on unsteady feet. She had short-cut hair and a strong air of physicality about her. A breast spilled from her ruffled blouse. The purple hickeys dotting not only the breast, the nape of her neck, and the bewitching thighs jutting from her hot pants told the story of her forcibly debauched state.
This was Azusa Sasaki.
“Oh, another girl.” Gento indicated the giant holding the head. “Store it where it won’t rot. And continue seeing to my abode. I do not doubt that others will come looking for it. There will be no end to those wishing to arouse my ire.”
“As you wish.”
“This girl has something to do with Setsura?”
“Yes. Her name is Sasaki, the younger sister of that reporter. Apparently, Setsura Aki-sama was having her watch this area.”
“Sasaki?” Gento narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Can’t quite place it, but the name sounds familiar. Fine, let’s have a little chat.”
“As you wish,” said Hyota, already slipping back into the shadows. Gento alone sensed his presence vanishing from among them.
“Quick little guy,” Gento said with a small smile. He waved his left hand at the giant behind him. “Be on your way. Hyota has prepared a place for you to stay.”
He must have already trained his human doll to bow. The giant stiffly leaned his top half forward as if he was carved out of clay, slowly straightened, and left in the same direction where Hyota had disappeared into the gloom. The concrete floor notwithstanding, the giant’s heaving footsteps reverberated like a bass drum and soon faded away.
Gento cast a cool glance at the woman, her large breasts bared. “This way,” he said, gesturing toward the mountain of dirt.
He didn’t resort to his devil wires. Azusa was acting of her own accord. But like being reeled along by an invisible line of demonic will, she followed him and climbed the mound.
“Lie down.”
Azusa called to mind those strange and overpowering sensations. Made the plaything of that weird “family” beneath the convenience store in East Goken. Penetrated, fellated, bathed in their bodily fluids, her face and breasts stroked and painted like brushes by their cocks.
She’d burned with humiliation at first, and then abandoned herself to the dogged assaults, Hyota and the father in particular. They went at her long and hard. The middle-aged man had the hands and moves of an accomplished womanizer, making her loins burn.
“Fuck me already!” she’d demanded of them.
Hyota made sure she was, as new and satisfying as her first time ever was. Big and hard. His “rod” impressed on her all the more as he raked the inside of her pussy. She seriously thought he was going to wear her out. The unbelievable stimulation wrenched from her bawdy cries.
Father and son stood by and watched with looks of condescending lust. She didn’t care. Her mind was elsewhere. Pleasure ruled over all. If that man told her to kill Setsura, she could imagine doing so willingly.
When Hyota was done, the “father” and “son” stood in front of her to be serviced. Azusa took them in her mouth in turns. The kid told her to do him with her breasts. She could do nothing other than comply.
She lay down and he climbed on top of her. She lifted up her breasts and held his cock between them. “Nympho bitch slut!” the kid practically wailed.
“That’s me,” Azusa rejoined.
The kid practically screamed a war cry as he came, gushing between her breasts and spilling across her neck and lips, where she still held his father’s erection in her mouth.
The kid slathered his cum across her chest and breasts. The spectacle moved the father to groan and shoot his warm, wet wad against the back of her throat.
After that, Hyota took her down the moonlit road to this underground grotto. She hadn’t walked here. Hyota carried her on his back. She could have pounded on him mercilessly from that position, but the inclination never came upon her.