Chapter 2: Target: Bai Ling (+18)
October 14, 2019. Night swallowed Yanhai's slums, the crooked alleys narrowing into a labyrinth of leaning shacks and flickering oil lamps. The air reeked of stale rice wine and damp rot, punctuated by the distant clang of a dockworker's hammer and a whore's coarse laugh echoing off tin walls. Jin Xiao perched on a rickety rooftop, golden eyes glinting in the dark, Core Formation peak qi humming faintly through his lean frame. His black hair swayed in the salt-tinged breeze, a predator tracking his prey through the squalor below. "Bai Ling's hooked—her cunt's twitching," he thought, smirking icily. "Slow cuts bleed deepest—time to carve her will." The NTR System pulsed in his mind—"Target: Bai Ling. Flaws: Ambition. Lust. Resentment."—a cold tool sharpening his intent.
Below, Bai Ling slipped through an alley, her slender frame cloaked in white robes that clung to her full tits and curved hips, jade skin faintly luminous under a lantern's glow. Her raven hair hung in a thick braid to her waist, swaying as she moved, almond eyes dark and sharp with purpose—pink lips pressed tight, masking a smirk. "That herb's mine—fuck the elders," she muttered, voice smooth and edged, clutching the qi-infused root she'd haggled for yesterday (Ch. 1). "I'll climb alone—no chains, no scraps," she thought, her ambition a fire stoked by years under her mother Bai Mei's shadow, qi flickering faintly in her palm—early Core Formation, raw and unrefined.
Jin Xiao's gaze locked on her, golden eyes narrowing as he leapt soundlessly to a lower roof, qi cloaking his descent—a ripple in the night's fabric. He landed ahead, stepping into her path, his presence a sudden chill cutting through the alley's muggy heat. "Lost, prodigy?" he purred, voice low and taunting, golden eyes piercing hers. Bai Ling froze, qi flaring—a golden spark—as her hand darted to her dagger. "You again—fuck off, slum rat!" she snapped, stance tensing, beauty sharpening with menace. "Twice now—die this time!" she thought, fury igniting as yesterday's heat (Ch. 1) flickered back—nipples stiffening faintly under her robe.
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He smirked, qi threading a subtle pulse—not forcing, teasing her meridians with a warm hum, brushing her neck like a phantom kiss. "Your sect's a cage, Bai Ling—feel the bars yet?" he taunted, voice slicing through her guard, the NTR System flaring to stoke her core with a slow, itching heat. She swung her dagger, "Shut up—die!"—qi slashing a golden arc, but he sidestepped, qi shield deflecting it with a soft crack, sparks scattering into the dark. "Fuck... he's fast—what's this heat?" she thought, breath hitching as her pussy pulsed, a damp spot blooming between her thighs. "Fuck... no—kill him!"
Jin Xiao stepped closer, qi flaring—a faint breeze, not touching, grazing her earlobe with a teasing hum. "Ambition's a lonely bed—let me warm it," he purred, voice a slow blade, flicking a sect relic—a small jade bead—from his sleeve, qi-infused to pulse faintly near her chest, not pressing, just stirring her senses. She gasped, "Fuck you... stop—ahh!"—her body jerking as the bead's hum brushed her nipples, stiffening them harder, a faint squirt dampening her robe. "Fuck... my cunt's wet—damn him!" she thought, shame searing her, qi faltering as she swung again, blade trembling, missing by a hair.
"You crave more than herbs—your mother's leash chokes you," he whispered, golden eyes glinting as he circled her, qi threading the bead's pulse to her lower back—a warm tickle, not forcing. She stumbled, "Fuck... I'll kill you—don't talk about her!"—her voice cracking, qi slashing wild, splintering a shack wall, but her pussy throbbed, slickness trickling down her thigh. "Fuck... why's it so hot—stop this!" she thought, fury and lust tangling, her resolve buckling as her dagger slipped, clattering to the dirt.
He smirked, qi cloaking him as he stepped back, melting into the alley's shadows. "Second cut's deeper—she's bleeding now," he thought, the NTR System humming with her flicker of submission—"Target resistance: 87%." Bai Ling sank to her knees, panting, "Fuck... who is he... fuck, why's it wet?"—her pride trembling, the slums' night swallowing his echo as a distant sect bell tolled, signaling tomorrow's grand unveiling.