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Chapter 42 - Chapter 40: The Shoplifter Girl, Masumi Kamuro

Takashi Ichinose's POV

After fucking Honami nonstop until my cock was sore and her pussy was dripping a mix of both our juices, I finally dragged myself back to the supermarket. This time I wasn't here for food, I just wanted something cold to drink, something to cool my throat and quench the thirst left from hours of sex.

It might sound heartless that Honami asked me on a date and I went on to use sex magick on her instead of really spending time with her, but I didn't think I did anything wrong.

Let's be real, she already had my full, undivided attention during the entire holiday with Arisu. I simply don't have the time to waste on her for a full day right now, not when I'm still committed to my speedrun quest to impregnate the entire female cast of COTE in this school within a three-month span.

I'm not invincible yet. It's impossible for me to spend more time on her than is absolutely necessary. Even Arisu understands this fundamental reality; she only asks for my time at night, when I basically have more than enough energy and focus to spend on her for the whole duration.

That's precisely why Honami lost to Arisu. She is an emotional creature, ruled by her feelings. In contrast, we are pragmatic. We know what should be done and what shouldn't, and we only unleash our raw emotion and desire when we are truly in control of the situation.

What Honami did was nothing more than a child asking their father, "Why are you busy? Why do you need to work? Don't go, Father!" It's impossible for the father not to go. He still has to work; his world doesn't revolve solely around his child.

The moment he dares to slack off at his job or indulge too much in his children, he gets fired by his boss. Then they become poor, the neighbors look down on them, and their life becomes miserable, defined by unemployment and the disdainful eyes of everyone around them.

This is the realistic world. You can't please everyone. The only way you can ever do whatever you want is by first becoming truly invincible.

So, my sister either adapted to this truth, or she would no longer be my favorite. I have no liking for someone who stands in my way or bothers me with these small, insignificant matters, especially when everything I do is for the benefit of all of us.

Every single thing she has now came from me. Remember the fact that she never had to go through the canon humiliation where our mother forced her to apologize in front of the mall for a stolen hairpin. Instead of experiencing that shame, she now has wealth, status, and respect. Because of that, I did not appreciate her bothering me with this trivial nonsense.

I was being very much forgiving for now, but my patience has a limit, and that limit would be reached the moment she became a genuine burden and a persistent annoyance.

Despite all of that logic and my cold clear reasoning, here I now stood in front of the refrigerated section, staring blankly at the rows of drinks, completely caught in a stupid little dilemma.

Cola or Yakult?

Cola was the obvious choice, sweet, fizzy, icy, and perfect for cooling off after a long, exhausting round of exercise.

But cola was also shit for health. Yakult, on the other hand, was healthy, full of probiotics, but when it came to cooling the throat after you've been sweating and pounding away for hours, it just didn't hit the same.

But then I realized, why settle for less when there was a better option?

I reached in, grabbed a bottle of Pocari Sweat from the freezer, feeling the frosty chill in my hand, and shut the door with a satisfying thud.

Ready to head for the cashier and pay for the damn thing, I turned around, only for a body to slam straight into my chest.

The impact made me stumble slightly, and when I looked down, I saw her, the same purple-haired girl from before.

Her sharp eyes glared up at me with irritation, like she was ready to start a fight. "It's you again."

I rolled my eyes.

Every time I ran into this girl, she had that same pissed-off face plastered on like the world had wronged her.

Was she always like this, or was she just on her period or something?

"Yes, it's me, girl. What's the problem this time?" I shot back, voice steady and challenging.

She blinked, realizing only then that she was still pressed against my chest.

Her cheeks turned faintly red as she quickly stepped back, shoving me away. "You must have done that deliberately, right?"

"No, it was an accident," I replied flatly, refusing to give her room for seeking fault. "Besides, why are you so vigilant around me? Do you honestly think I'd blackmail you, or force you into something just because I happened to see something?"

Her expression softened, her eyes darting away in clear guilt. "…Sorry. I shouldn't have judged you so quickly. You're a gentleman compared to the one I met yesterday. She was the worst, a total devil. How about I make it up to you? Let me treat you to something nice as an apology."

I stared at her for a second, watching her face carefully.

Now that she wasn't scowling, I could actually take in her beauty.

Masumi Kamuro, a flawless purple hair that shimmered under the supermarket lights, skin so smooth it looked like porcelain, and that body was dangerously gorgeous, the type of girl you couldn't look at without your cock twitching.

Breedable was the only word that came to mind, especially with how her school uniform hugged her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

Honestly, given the choice, I'd rather eat her out right here than eat any food she wanted to buy me.

Unfortunately, reality wasn't porn, and I wasn't about to ruin my chances by blurting all that filthy shit out loud.

Say something that raw, and she'd probably run off and never look back.

As much as I wanted to pin her down and taste every inch of her, I wasn't stupid enough to ruin the setup this quickly.

So instead, I gave her a calm nod, forcing down the raw hunger in my eyes. "Lead the way, girl."

Masumi Kamuro gave me a small, almost shy nod in return before turning on her heel. She led me out of the supermarket and down the street, eventually bringing me to a nice little place that looked way fancier than I expected.

We walked inside, and a waitress quickly guided us to a table.

Menus were already set out, neatly arranged in front of us, but I wasn't looking at the food.

My eyes kept drifting to Masumi, to her neckline, to her thighs, to the way her skirt rode just high enough when she sat down across from me.

Fuck the menu. The only meal I wanted was right in front of me.

Despite it all, she was completely oblivious to the way I was staring at her. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe she didn't give a damn, maybe she was narcissistic enough to enjoy the attention, or maybe she was just that gullible.

Who knows?

I wasn't here to play guessing games. I was here to leave a strong impression on her, to carve myself into her memory before finally breeding her and making her mine.

Since it was her treat, I didn't order anything expensive. Just the cheapest thing on the menu. As twisted of a bastard as I am, I wasn't the type to milk someone who was kind enough to treat me. That'd be scummy even for me.

Masumi noticed, and her expression twisted into a pout. "You don't need to hold back, I'm not that poor that I can't treat you to something better."

I gave her a calm smile and answered, "Of course I don't underestimate you, my lady. I just ordered what I like. That's all."

"W–Who's your lady?!" Masumi Kamuro shot back, her face flushing bright red, obviously embarrassed yet a little touched by my words.

"Humph, whatever. I'll order the same thing as you." She crossed her arms, pretending to be annoyed, before calling the waiter over. The waiter scribbled down our orders and left.

This time, she didn't glare at me with her usual cold, suspicious eyes. She softened, looking friendlier, almost approachable, as we slipped into small talk, waiting for the food.

It was refreshing. Cool, even. I knew how modern girls usually behaved, staring at their phones the whole time, ignoring whoever they were with, turning every meeting into a dead experience. But she wasn't like that, at least not now. She was present, actually engaged with me.

But just when things were going smooth, she suddenly switched topics and shot me this teasing smirk. "Hey, pervert-kun, I noticed you were staring. You like what you see, huh?"

She leaned in, her school uniform stretching tight as she pushed forward just enough for me to see her cleavage.

A nice, perfect view of her tits pressing against the fabric, practically offering them up for my eyes.

I nodded without hesitation. "I loved it."

"You're honest. That's good." She smiled playfully, but then pulled back into her seat, straightening herself up and leaving me hanging. "But it's not enough, pervert-kun."

And just when the heat was building up between us, the damn waiter showed up again, dropping off our food right in the middle of our moment.

What a shit service.

I swear, if I could rate them right there, I'd give them one star for cockblocking me.

As if she had read my mind, Masumi blinked and leaned slightly forward, her lips curling in that teasing way of hers. "Pervert-kun, I still don't even know your name, despite everything that already happened between us."

Girl, don't say things like that so casually. Words like that could easily cause a massive misunderstanding if anyone else heard them.

Fortunately, we were in a private space now, not outside in public where people had a bad habit of eavesdropping on things they had no business listening to.

"Takashi Ichinose. That's my name," I said, extending my hand to her.

She didn't hesitate, shaking it firmly while meeting my eyes. "Masumi Kamuro. No wonder you didn't make a fuss when I stole something at that store back then. Turns out you're that rich guy. I guess money really is just numbers for someone like you."

"Well, I'm the kind of guy who minds his own business," I replied without a hint of guilt in my tone. "As long as whatever bad thing you're doing doesn't directly affect me, I won't bother interfering. Of course, stealing is wrong, no matter how you justify it. But if what you stole came from some poor family's shop, from people who are already struggling just to survive, and you bled them dry on top of that? That's unforgivable. That kind of thing, I would report to the authorities without hesitation."

Masumi tilted her head slightly, giving me a look that was both curious and skeptical. "That sounds… very biased, don't you think?"

"I don't think so." I shook my head firmly, deciding to lay it out for her, to school her a little on this one. "Think about it. Robbing the rich, or a bloated institution like this school, who are already swimming in so much money they waste it daily, does it even matter to them if they lose one or two things? They won't even notice. I don't care if you rob them. Honestly, I'd even praise you if you took that money and spread it to people who genuinely need it. But someone who steals from the poor, from those already at their wit's end, people hanging on by a thread, that's crossing the line. That's not rebellion or survival, that's cruelty. Maybe it's hypocritical of me, but I still believe that taking advantage of or robbing the poor is the lowest thing a person can do."

She didn't respond right away. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was speechless, caught off guard, probably not sure what to say back.

Finally, she lowered her gaze a little. "Since that case… I'll try my best not to rob the poor, Ichinose-san."

"Good." I nodded, a small flicker of satisfaction passing through me.

Still, I noticed she didn't actually say she would stop stealing altogether. That little detail didn't escape me. And I didn't press her on it either. If stealing was a hobby or habit of hers, something she thought she needed in her own way, then I wasn't going to lecture her into submission.

"Anyway," she broke the silence after a brief pause, "let's talk about this later, Ichinose-san. The food will get cold if we keep dragging on."

"Fair point." I nodded in agreement, and without another word we both turned our attention to the meal, finally digging into our food before it lost its warmth.

...

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