Inside the Wooden Cabin
Ten minutes later, even the composed Champion felt the warmth creeping up her neck.
Cynthia cleared her throat softly and withdrew her hand from Wade's. With deliberate casualness, she tucked a stray golden strand behind her ear—an ear now tinged with the faintest rose.
They stood close. Close enough that Wade caught the delicate fragrance wafting from her—not shower gel or shampoo, but something deeper. Gardenias, fresh and natural.
An innate body scent.
"Alright." Her voice was slightly higher than usual. "Let's eat~"
"Mmm... delicious~!"
Olivia accepted the ice cream Wade offered and took a delicate spoonful. The flavor bloomed on her tongue, and a beautiful blush colored her charming features.
Pure. Innocent. For now.
"By the way—where's that Lunar Wing you mentioned? And the monument photos?"
Cynthia had also tasted her ice cream, humming happily, but her scholar's mind was already racing. Wade had told her about the ruins, about Darkrai's escape. She needed to see.
"Here."
He retrieved the glowing feather and the photographs he'd taken at the ancient site.
Cynthia's beautiful eyes ignited.
Without a second thought, she thrust her unfinished ice cream at Wade.
"Hold this, junior."
He caught it, amused.
Ruins. Every time.
The cool, aloof Champion transformed into an obsessed scholar at the mere glimpse of ancient mystery. Ice cream forgotten. Composure abandoned. Nothing existed but those photos and that feather.
Wade scooped a spoonful of her abandoned dessert and brought it to her lips as she studied the ancient texts.
"Mmm."
Without looking up, she parted her cherry lips and accepted the offering. Another spoonful. Another happy hum.
They continued like that—her deciphering, him feeding, a quiet rhythm of shared intimacy.
But a chill crept down Wade's spine.
He glanced sideways.
Olivia's gaze had shifted. Her beautiful eyes reflected heart shapes, yes—but within those emerald pupils, dangerous glints flickered. A fusion of Gardevoir's devotion and Darkrai's intensity.
Alarm bells. Loud ones.
This charming secretary... isn't secretly a yandere, is she?
She leaned closer, eyes full of allure.
"Farm owner I want some too"
Her tongue swirled deliberately over her already-moistened cherry lips. The implication was anything but innocent.
Wade maintained his composure. He scooped a spoonful from his own portion and placed it gently in her mouth.
It's fine. I know how to handle yanderes.
A thorough "training" session tonight should do it.
"When do you plan to leave, Senior Sister?"
Wade glanced at the darkening window. Unlike him—a leisurely farm owner with nowhere to be—Cynthia surely had League duties. Champions didn't have unlimited free time.
"Hmm... the Lunar Wing records... need to find them..."
Cynthia hadn't heard a word. She was already deep in her communicator, frantically searching databases, her face utterly serious.
Minutes passed.
Then—"Found it."
She read aloud from Canalave City's online library.
"In mere months, this Darkrai plunged over half of Sinnoh into endless nightmares. It shattered normal life completely. Finally, Cresselia and the Aura user Riley sealed it together."
She fell silent, processing.
As Sinnoh Champion, her duty extended beyond League administration. She was the region's protector—whether from evil organizations or awakened Legendary Pokémon.
And this Darkrai, freed after a millennium? Its hatred would find an outlet. Attacks were almost certain.
"Senior Sister? Cynthia?"
She looked up slowly.
"Probably... I'll need to stay here for a few days?"
...What?
Several question marks materialized above Wade's head.
He'd brought home a cool, beautiful Sinnoh Champion, yes. He was in a good mood about that.
But stay? For days?
This is... unexpected.
"But staying here for days... what about your League work?"
Cynthia noticed his surprise and smiled—a playful, almost mischievous expression that transformed her cool features.
"It's fine. I'll just dump the extra work on Wusong. A few more days won't matter."
Hiss.
Suddenly, Wade understood. In his past life, playing through the games, he'd always encountered this blonde woman at the most unexpected times.
Behind every Champion who slacks off, there's an Elite Four member working themselves to the bone.
He silently wished the Psychic Titan well. Another mountain of paperwork materializing on his desk.
"So..." Cynthia's tone shifted, a hint of expectation coloring her words. "Do you have a spare room?"
"Of course."
The Wooden Cabin had only two bedrooms. But Olivia would be sharing with him tonight—which left the remaining room perfect for their Champion guest.
Cynthia hadn't packed for an extended stay. Night had fallen, making shopping impossible. Olivia graciously offered a loan—something to sleep in, with plans to buy fresh clothes in the morning.
"By the way—what's your League bank card number?"
Wade blinked, confused, but provided it.
A moment later:
Ding-dong—Bank deposit: 2,000,000₱!
Cynthia smiled, satisfied. "There. Payment for my stay."
Wade's throat worked.
I didn't even make that much selling all those evolution stones!
She's treating the Wooden Cabin like a five-star hotel!
Beside him, Olivia's beautiful eyes had gone impossibly wide.
Two million?! For a few DAYS?!
That's not paying for accommodation—that's buying the BOSS'S BODY!
I could do that too—
She checked her own balance.
...The thought died before reaching her tongue.
Two million. I'd have to sell myself completely. Multiple times.
Olivia gazed at the ceiling, existential despair settling over her features.
Is this the power of a Champion?
A single casual gesture, and she completely crushes me...
"Is it too little?" Cynthia tilted her head, genuinely concerned. "Should I add another million?"
Wade caught her wrist before she could enter another password.
"Enough, Senior Sister. More than enough."
If she kept going, tomorrow's Alliance Times would feature a sensational headline: "Shocking! Sinnoh Champion's Bank Account Emptied—Reason Revealed!"
Blonde. Black coat. Cool older sister. Wealthy.
The most overpowered combination in existence.
He'd learned something vital tonight.
Later
Cynthia, satisfied with the transaction, accepted Olivia's offered clothes and retreated to the bathroom. The sound of running water soon filled the quiet cabin.
Which left only one item on the evening's agenda.
"Olivia." Wade's arm slid around her waist, pulling her close. "Time to return to our room. We need to verify if those purchases fit properly."
"Eh... B-Boss~!"
The Secretary Miss melted into his embrace, her charming voice dropping to an even more alluring register.
Inside the Bedroom
Olivia stood before him, transformed.
This was different from the backless gown, the ribboned top, the Gothic maid outfit. This was intimate. Excessive. A one-piece lingerie set designed to seduce.
Purple lace cascaded from her snow-white neck, enveloping her curvaceous form in delicate mesh. Her plush, soft breasts were lifted into perfect curves, the honeyed cleavage framed by intricate patterns. And the metal clasp—the clasp meant to contain such ripe bounty—wasn't positioned at her back.
It rested between her jade-like peaks.
An invitation. A challenge. A promise.
Olivia lowered her head, two blushes spreading across her fair cheeks.
"Boss... do I... look alright?"
The tailoring was exquisite. A high-waist design cinched just below her ribs, accentuating the ripe curve of her waist. Side cut-outs filled with black fishnet revealed glimpses of frost-pale skin, already flushing faintly with each breath.
But the most devastating detail awaited below.
The lingerie's crotch wasn't a crude straight cut. Nine thin black ribbons wove into a diamond-shaped net, cradling the base of her thighs. Yet upon closer inspection—that breathtaking spot was deliberately revealed between the parted strands. Tiny beads of moisture, seeping unbidden, told their own story.
A story of wanting. Of needing. Of desperate desire to be fiercely filled.
"Mmm... Boss... there's... there's more..."
Olivia trembled under his gaze and produced additional items from her bag.
A black satin lace eye mask. A matching collar—with leash.
Wade understood immediately.
When there's work, the secretary works. When there's no work...
He leaned forward, lifting the mask. Gently, he stretched it over her enchanting face, settling it softly against her flushed cheeks until both emerald eyes disappeared behind dark lace.
"Mmm... wuwu~"
With sight gone, her other senses exploded.
The collar clicked lightly around her fair throat—and she gasped, legs pressing together.
"Bo... Boss... mmm... ah... ah~"
Warmth caressed her body. Her delicate brows furrowed. Soft, alluring moans escaped her moist, rosy lips.
The plush white mounds, freed from their lace prison, had flushed a deep, seductive rose. Fragrant sweat beaded on her graceful neck—the one wrapped in that tight black collar—then slid down through the fragrant valley between her full breasts, across her smooth abdomen, until mingling with the tiny droplets seeping from between her legs.
Sensual. Complete. His.
"Mmm... yiii... wuwu... ah... ah~"
She bit her lip, crescent brows contracting. Her honeyed mounds, barely covered, were now wantonly kneaded in Wade's hands. The plump soft flesh yielded eagerly, transforming into lewd shapes, rippling with tantalizing waves.
Olivia arched her collared neck. Behind the mask, her emerald eyes glazed with broken, hazy moisture. Her flushed face radiated passion.
Her sweet cherry lips parted. Soft moans escaped. Her small pink tongue lolled shamelessly, whimpering as its tip accepted his lingering embrace.
Then—her plump, fragrant hips were lifted.
"Mmm... wuwu~" Her voice broke. "Bo... Boss... hurry... hurry and come in~"
Though blinded, this secretary—now completely molded to his desires—could feel the heat pressing between her legs. High-pitched, sweet moans filled the room.
A violent sense of penetration.
Crimson flowers bloomed, one after another.
Olivia, lost in ecstasy, twisted her waist up and down. Her plush, full breasts bounced frantically as she surrendered completely to being fiercely ravaged.
Meanwhile, in the Bathroom
Cynthia had just finished showering. She toweled herself dry, skin glowing, and reached for the change of clothes Olivia had provided.
She pulled them out.
And froze.
"This... this is too..."
The cool, composed Champion blushed to her ears.
Whether Olivia had made a mistake or intended... something... the bag contained no proper nightwear. Instead: that intimate secretary outfit.
The top consisted of two slightly wide white satin straps that would barely wrap around her breasts. Her abdomen and most of her back would be completely exposed. The high-waisted black pants covered almost nothing.
Wearing this would be indistinguishable from wearing lingerie.
Should I call my junior brother? Ask for something else?
She imagined that conversation. Her cheeks burned hotter.
No. Absolutely not.
As Sinnoh Champion, she had some dignity.
"Never mind. One night. I'll change first thing tomorrow."
Having convinced herself, Cynthia gently lifted the seductive garments and began to dress her snow-white, alluring form.
The outfit's design philosophy was clear: exposure. No matter how she adjusted, what couldn't be covered remained uncovered. Her plush, smooth mounds. Her round, full hips. Her tall, beautiful figure—already striking—was now amplified to devastating effect.
Let it all be destroyed.
Cynthia stared at her reflection in the mirror, at the spring scenery she couldn't conceal, and finally surrendered to fate. She exited the bathroom.
Please don't let Wade be in the living room. Please don't let Wade be in the living room.
She scanned the empty space.
Ah. Safe.
If he'd seen her like this... she'd have been troubled.
"Mmm—ah! Boss! Harder~!"
"Quiet. Senior Sister might be asleep."
Cynthia froze mid-step.
What?
The sounds drifted from Wade's room—faint, yet unmistakably... passionate.
Curiosity warred with discretion. Curiosity won.
She crept closer. Pressed her ear to the door.
A moment later, her face burned.
Junior brother...!
He was certainly diligent with that charming secretary. She'd gathered that much.
Handsome as a succubus. Knowledgeable about everything. Popular with girls. But doing this so late? With such volume?
Tomorrow morning. I'll have a subtle word with him.
Then her expression shifted.
Wait.
The gentle, blushing Champion vanished.
In her place stood someone else entirely—a Valkyrie, decisive and calm. The aura of a supreme warrior exploded from her form.
Darkrai.
It's here.
Outside – The Nightmare God Returns
Darkrai flowed through the window like liquid shadow.
Familiar environment. Familiar scent.
Her lips curved into a perverse, dangerous smile.
After her humiliating defeat—after being ravaged by that hateful farm owner—she'd hidden away and thought.
The conclusion was obvious: her failure coincided with her transformed state. The moment she'd taken humanoid form, she'd become vulnerable.
This time, I won't transform. Let's see how he resists!
She crept toward the bedroom, gloating internally.
Wrong.
"Garchomp. Dragon Claw."
A cool female voice shattered her triumph.
Darkrai spun—just as a furious gust of wind, carrying power that could tear space itself, slammed toward her.
[Dragon Claw] : Slashes the opponent with sharp, giant claws.
She raised shadowy arms, blocking barely in time.
Before her stood a Garchomp radiating bloodthirst, and behind it—a calm, impossibly cool blonde woman.
Hiss~
Darkrai's eyes glowed purple. Nightmare authority activated.
Shadows spread like a net, enveloping everything—
And did nothing.
Cynthia and Garchomp stood completely unaffected.
Equal strength?
Darkrai's heart sank.
Divine authority wasn't invincible. Against opponents of equal or greater power, it simply... failed. And these two were wide awake, their minds clear, their defenses impenetrable.
The Dragon Pokémon's resistance was expected. But the human woman?
Unaffected. Completely.
When those cold eyes met hers, Darkrai felt—for the first time in millennia—the unsettling sensation of being seen through.
No time to process.
"Garchomp. Slash."
The command and the charge were perfectly synchronized. Garchomp's claws retracted, and he moved—a blur of blue lightning, striking with thunderous speed.
[Slash] : Slashes with claws or scythes. High critical-hit ratio.
Fine.
Darkrai gathered power, eyes icy.
Can't drag you into nightmares? Then we'll fight directly.
Dragon Claw met shadow in a clash that shook the cabin's foundations.
Inside the Bedroom
Neither the battle outside nor the foundation-shaking impacts registered.
Wade was... occupied.
The Secretary Miss's embrace tightened rhythmically. Her beautiful eyes had lost focus entirely. Each breath came in gasps.
"Pre...President..." Olivia's voice was barely a whisper. "I have no more strength... Please... move faster~"
He smiled down at her, admiring her alluring charm.
Some things are worth focusing on.
The Secretary Miss's soft, light golden hair clung to her snow-white, tender skin. Though she'd been "drained" countless times, each wave of surging heat still left her breathless.
Olivia wrapped her arms around the man before her, but her weakened body could no longer rise and fall on its own.
So she improvised.
Her waist and hips twisted provocatively, rubbing against the spot she yearned for day and night. Her emerald eyes had long since misted over. Her crimson lips parted, forming an alluring invitation without words.
A moment later—a firm hand grasped her slender waist and pulled her down.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
"Ahhh~! I... I love the President's—!"
Outside the Door
HISS!
Darkrai's sanity frayed with every passing second.
Not only was Garchomp's assault growing faster, more frequent—but those sounds. Those words. They drilled into her ears like molten hooks, each one dragging up memories she'd rather forget.
That night. That terrible night. Being dominated. Being trained. Being reduced to—
Stop. Focus.
But the lewd cries continued, wave after wave, each one stoking her uncontrollable irritation.
She'd come for revenge. Instead, she'd found this blonde woman blocking her path and those sounds driving her mad.
Her face twisted. Her teeth ground.
"Ahhh! Olivia will always be the President's exclusive Secretary Miss! Please use me as you wish!"
Another series of high-pitched cries erupted from the room.
Both Garchomp and Darkrai flinched.
Concentration: Broken.
The Battle Continues
Neither wanted to destroy the cabin.
Cynthia and Darkrai had silently agreed: no area-of-effect moves. No special attacks that could cause significant damage. Which meant:
Garchomp: Earthquake forbidden. Dragon Rush forbidden. Only Dragon Claw.
Darkrai: Dark Pulse forbidden. Blizzard forbidden. Only Shadow Claw.
[Shadow Claw] : Slashes with sharp claws made of shadows. High critical-hit ratio.
Clang!
Another clash. Controlled power. Minimal environmental damage.
The trade-off? Stalemate. One was the ace of a world-class Champion. The other was the strongest Darkrai in history.
At this rate, they'd need three days and three nights to determine a victor.
Clang!
Shadow Claw met Dragon Claw. Both recoiled. Both stepped back.
Darkrai assessed the situation.
I can't win quickly. That farm owner is escaping punishment. Again.
Decision made.
She vanished into the shadows without hesitation.
"Garchomp~?"
Cynthia raised a hand, stopping her partner from pursuing.
"No. Let him go."
Mythical Pokémon weren't like first-tier gods—Ho-Oh, Lugia, the true legends. But each possessed unique abilities. Dream manipulation. Form shifting. Escape was trivial for this one.
The battle had revealed enough. This Darkrai's strength matched Garchomp's. If it wanted to flee, they couldn't track it.
But...
Cynthia pondered the Nightmare God's motives. No desire to harm Sinnoh. No larger scheme. Just...
...Wade.
A soft sigh escaped her.
"He's taken a liking to my junior brother."
Aftermath
Cynthia surveyed the living room.
The leather sofa was riddled with holes. The kitchen door had lost a large corner. The dining table was missing a significant chunk.
Both sides had suppressed their power. Neither had disturbed Wade and Olivia's... activities. But residual energy had still caused damage.
Tomorrow. I'll explain everything.
She turned toward the bedroom—and paused.
Those sounds were still coming from within.
Her expression shifted.
"...Before explaining tomorrow, I should probably give my junior brother a thorough beating first."
"Garchomp~!"
Her partner nodded enthusiastically.
Cynthia tucked a strand of golden hair behind her already-flushed ear and walked gracefully toward her room.
Her movements were elegant. Her figure, devastating.
Two plush, snow-white mounds, wrapped in white ribbons, swayed with each step—gently colliding, trembling, revealing soft expanses of creamy flesh. Her round hips, pressed by tailored pants, rippled in waves beneath the fabric.
She paused at her door.
It's very late.
Time to sleep.