The boardroom was no longer a place of business; it was a tomb of glass, neon, and shattered dignity. The air-conditioning hummed, but it couldn't cool the predatory heat radiating from Han Feng's skin. He didn't just walk through the room; he owned the very molecules of oxygen his enemies were breathing.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Han Feng released a jagged lattice of violet Qi. It hissed through the air, weaving itself into a shimmering, transparent box around Young Master Zhao.
[SKILL ACTIVATED: SPIRIT CAGE (LEVEL 1).]
[TARGET: ZHAO WEI.]
[DURATION: UNTIL DRAINED.]
The [SPIRIT CAGE] sparked as it locked the heir in place just inches from the mahogany desk. Zhao's eyes bulged, the veins in his neck standing out like thick cords. He tried to scream, but his mouth was fused shut by a silent seal, a golden light pressing against his lips from the inside. He couldn't move. He couldn't fight. He could only watch as his world was dismantled in front of him.
"You called me a cockroach, Rong'er," Han Feng growled, his voice a low vibration that made the crystal decanters on the side table rattle.
He reached out and grabbed the "Ice Queen" by her slender throat. He didn't squeeze to kill; he squeezed to dominate. He forced her head back until her neck strained, exposing the pale, trembling line of her throat to the harsh LED lights. Without a word, he slammed his mouth onto hers.
It wasn't a kiss of love or even lust—it was a bruising reclamation. He tasted her shock, the salt of her tears, and the metallic, electric tang of her Pure Yin Qi. As their lips met, the System roared to life in his mind, a digital vampire beginning its feast.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: PROXIMITY SIPHON ACTIVE.]
[RECLAIMING STOLEN CULTIVATION: 2%... 4%...]
He broke away, leaving her gasping for air, her lipstick smeared across her face like a war-wound. With a slow, deliberate click that sounded like a gunshot in the silent room, Han Feng unzipped his trousers.
His "Heavenly Pillar" sprang free, thick and pulsing with a dark, violet heat that seemed to warp the light around it. It was no longer a part of a "trash" disciple; it was a weapon of the God-Realm.
"Open up," he ordered, his golden eyes burning into hers.
Mu Rong'er's eyes brimmed with tears that spilled over her flushed cheeks. She looked at Zhao, trapped in his cage, and then back at the man she had discarded an hour ago. "Please, Han Feng... don't make me... not like this... not with him watching..."
"Do it, or I break his neck and feed his soul to the System right now," Han Feng stated, his voice flat and absolute.
She choked back a sob, a sound of total defeat. Slowly, the CEO of the Mu Group, the most powerful woman in the Azure Capital, leaned forward. Her mouth—usually reserved for issuing ice-cold commands that moved millions of dollars—wrapped around his rigid length.
It was clumsy. It was desperate. She had never done this for Zhao; she had played the "Pure Saintess" to keep him hooked. But under Han Feng's hand, she had no choice. He gripped her hair, his knuckles white, guiding her with a rhythmic, punishing force.
[ESSENCE SIPHON: +200 XP]
[ESSENCE SIPHON: +200 XP]
Every time she gagged, a violet notification flashed in his peripheral vision, fueling the fire in his veins. After a few minutes, he pulled out, leaving her breathless and shivering. He grabbed her by the waist and shoved her onto the mahogany desk, scattering the anniversary lilies he had brought earlier.
"Better than the Young Master, isn't it?" Han Feng spat.
He didn't take her yet. Instead, he dipped his fingers into her "Jade Cleft," bypassing her silk underwear. He expected resistance, but what he found made him bark a dark laugh.
She was soaking. The "Ice Queen" was a fountain of suppressed desire.
"Look at this, Zhao," Han Feng laughed, holding his glistening fingers up to the glass of the cage. Zhao's muffled screams were frantic as he hammered his fists against the shimmering violet bars. "Your 'pure' fiancé is a leaky faucet for a loser. She's been starving for a real man while you played house."
He leaned down, his tongue flicking over her "Clit-Pearl" with a precision that made her whole body seize. He plunged deeper, tasting her "Holy Fountain," draining the very essence of her Purity Art.
"No... stop... it feels—ah!—too good... stop!" Mu Rong'er's back arched, her toes curling against the leather inlay of the desk. She looked at Zhao, her face flooded with a shame so deep it was visceral. "Zhao... don't look... please, don't look at me like this!"
"He's going to watch every second," Han Feng whispered against her ear, nipping the lobe until she whimpered.
He flipped her over—doggy style—pressing her face against the cold glass of the Spirit Cage so she was forced to lock eyes with her fiancé. He grabbed his "Primal Sword" and drove it into her "Heavenly Gate" in one violent, raw lunge.
"AHNNN!"
Her scream shattered the silence of the penthouse. It wasn't just a sound of pain—it was the sound of a soul being rewritten. Every thrust of Han Feng's god-tier length hit her "Womb-Gate," sending shocks of corruptive Qi through her meridians.
[CULTIVATION THEFT IN PROGRESS: 15%... 25%...]
[USER GAINING: 'ICE-GLACIER' AFFINITY.]
Han Feng began to hammer into her with a savage rhythm. The wet, rhythmic slapping of skin against skin echoed through the boardroom, a primal beat that drowned out the hum of the city outside. He wasn't gentle. He was a conqueror taking back what was stolen.
"Zhao... I can't..." Mu Rong'er wailed, her fingers scratching uselessly at the glass as she watched her lover's face contort in agony. "I'm losing... he's... he's filling me up... I can't control it! It feels—AH!—it feels like I'm melting!"
Han Feng shifted his grip, hoisting her legs up onto his shoulders, changing the angle of his assault. He drove his "Rod" into her "Abyssal Path"—the tight, forbidden back door she had told Zhao was "unclean."
"ST—STOP! IT HURTS! PLEASE!" She was hysterical now, her nails leaving red tracks down Han Feng's muscled arms. But even through the screams, her "Lotus Seat" was clamping down on him in a rhythmic, addictive squeeze that the System identified as [TOTAL BODY SUBMISSION].
"Beg for it," Han Feng hissed, his breath hot against her neck. "Beg the 'trash' to finish you."
"Give it to me! Break me! Please! I'm yours! Just... GIVE IT TO ME!" she wailed, her mind finally snapping under the dual pressure of the pleasure and the humiliation.
Han Feng felt the pressure in his lower dantian reach its breaking point. He didn't pull out. He drove himself deep, pinning her against the glass of the Spirit Cage so Zhao could see the exact moment of her total corruption. With a guttural roar, he unleashed his "God-Tier" load.
He filled her "Sacred Vase" until she was overflowing, the white essence dripping down her thighs and soaking into the expensive carpet.
[MAXIMUM SIPHON REACHED.]
[TARGET 'MU RONG' FOUNDATION: SHATTERED.]
[USER FOUNDATION: REPAIRED & UPGRADED.]
Mu Rong'er collapsed onto the mahogany, her spirit utterly broken. The "Ice Queen" was dead; in her place was a woman who could no longer look at the world with anything but the eyes of a slave.
Han Feng stood tall, adjusting his suit jacket with a chilling, cold precision. He didn't even look at the woman trembling on the desk. His focus was on Young Master Zhao, who was slumped against the bars of the cage, his face a mask of broken sanity.
"This is the cost of your arrogance," Han Feng said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
He deactivated the cage. Zhao fell to his knees, the silent seal breaking as he gasped for air, his eyes darting between the semen-stained desk and the man who had just stolen his future.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[CULTIVATION LEVEL UP: STAGE 3 — IRON ROOT]
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: SLAVE MARK (DIVINE RANK)]
* Description: An indelible spiritual brand etched into the target's soul.
* Effect: Total obedience. Any thought of rebellion triggers the 'Ecstasy Penalty,' flooding the target's nerves with debilitating pleasure until they submit.
* Passive: You now siphon 10% of the target's Cultivation Qi every hour.
[STATUS: TARGET 'MU RONG' PERMANENTLY BOUND TO HOST.]
Han Feng walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the Azure Capital. He could feel Mu Rong'er crawling toward him on the floor, her fingers brushing his shoes as she sought his approval.
"Master..." she whispered, her voice broken.
Han Feng didn't look back. The boardroom was just one office in one building.