One week later.
At Ryo Yamada's place, Seiji finally had time to sort through his rewards from taming those three troublemakers.
He lounged lazily on the sofa.
"System," he murmured silently.
A translucent screen unfolded before his eyes, a string of notification messages popping up.
[Ding! Detected that capture target 'Shimizu Eliza' has reached Stage 3 'Complete Devotion'!]
[Issuing Stage 3 reward—Permanent Ability: Cosplay & Makeup Mastery!]
[Issuing bonus reward—Permanent Ability: ACGN Information Expert!]
[Ding! Detected that capture target 'PA-san' has reached Stage 3 'Complete Devotion'!]
[Issuing Stage 3 reward—Permanent Ability: Audio Equipment Master!]
[Issuing bonus reward—Permanent Ability: Master-level Streaming Skills!]
A slight smile tugged at the corner of Seiji's lips.
These rewards perfectly matched each woman's identity and specialties.
He closed his eyes, absorbing the vast ocean of knowledge that had suddenly appeared in his mind.
From the intricate details of crafting costumes and props for various anime characters, to the light and shadow techniques for different makeup styles; from the parameters of top-tier mixing consoles in recording studios, to the traffic algorithms of different streaming platforms—
Everything was as clear as if it had been his innate instinct all along.
After a moment.
Seiji picked up a glass of red wine from the table—something he'd casually grabbed from the hotel wine cellar.
With his Wine Connoisseur ability, just one small sip revealed everything about the wine: the vintage, origin, grape variety, type of oak barrel, local climate... countless details parsed and reconstructed in his mind like a data stream.
"Megumi," he suddenly spoke, "have Eliza and Kikuri come over."
"Yes, Fujiwara-sensei." Megumi answered calmly, then pulled out her phone and sent two brief messages.
Seiji knew that deep in Eliza's heart, she still harbored resentment over Kikuri's two "betrayals."
Such disharmony was a blemish in his perfect harem.
It was time to personally "fix" it.
An hour later, Eliza and Kikuri arrived at the suite one after the other.
The moment Eliza saw Kikuri there too, her expression darkened. She let out a cold snort and turned her head away.
Kikuri, meanwhile, looked utterly unconcerned. She even winked at Eliza, which only made her more furious.
"Everyone's here?" Seiji smiled, gesturing toward the empty carpet in the center of the living room. "Don't be angry, Eliza. This time is specifically to help you vent."
Both Eliza and Kikuri froze at his words.
"Kikuri," Seiji's gaze fell on Kikuri, "you need to properly atone to Eliza."
"Huh?"
The lazy smile on Kikuri's face vanished instantly, replaced by disbelief.
Who had she betrayed for?
For him!
And now, after using her up, he was making her atone?
Eliza, meanwhile, didn't immediately understand what Seiji intended.
Punish Kikuri? Help her vent?
From somewhere, Seiji produced several sturdy ropes. Right in front of Eliza, he bound Kikuri in a humiliating position, then stuffed her mouth with a silk cloth, leaving her only able to make muffled whimpers.
Then he opened a box filled with various exquisite implements—ones Eliza had both used and seen before.
"Eliza, sit across from me and watch carefully." Seiji said. "Watch Kikuri pay the price for her disloyalty."
Oh, so that's the kind of punishment... Both women thought simultaneously.
Eliza sat down stiffly. She watched Kikuri—stripped bare and displayed before her like a sacrifice—and felt a surge of incredibly complex emotions.
Shock, discomfort, but also a strange sense of satisfaction and pleasure.
As for Kikuri, she relaxed completely.
For her, this wasn't punishment.
It was a reward!
"Let's begin."
Seiji picked up a riding crop from the box. The leather tip traced slowly down Kikuri's spine, making her shiver.
Then he struck.
The crack echoed through the room. A red welt bloomed across Kikuri's ass. Her whole body jerked, a muffled scream escaping around the gag.
Eliza's breath caught.
Another strike. Another. Seiji worked methodically, painting Kikuri's pale skin with angry red lines. Her ass, her thighs, the sensitive undersides where they met. Each blow made her jerk against the ropes, made her whimper and writhe.
And yet—Eliza could see it clearly—Kikuri was getting wet. The evidence glistened on her inner thighs.
Seiji noticed too. He set down the crop and picked up something else from the box. A vibrator, large and curved.
He didn't warm her up. Just pressed it against her entrance and pushed.
Kikuri's eyes rolled back. The toy sank into her easily—she was soaked—and the moment Seiji turned it on, her whole body started trembling.
"This is setting one," Seiji said, loud enough for Eliza to hear. "There are ten."
He left it inside her, buzzing away, and picked up the crop again.
The combination was devastating. Every strike of the crop jolted the vibrator inside her. Every jolt sent pleasure crashing through her overstimulated nerves. Kikuri couldn't tell pain from pleasure anymore. Her hips bucked helplessly, seeking something, anything—
Seiji turned the vibrator to setting three.
Kikuri came. Hard. Her whole body seized, her pussy clenching around the toy, her screams muffled by the gag. Fluid dripped down her thighs onto the carpet.
Seiji didn't stop.
He kept striking her through the orgasm, kept the vibrator buzzing inside her, and when she finally came down from the peak, he cranked it to setting five.
Eliza watched, transfixed. Some part of her knew she should look away—this was humiliating, degrading, watching her friend be broken like this. But she couldn't. Her own thighs pressed together unconsciously.
Kikuri came again. And again. By the fourth orgasm, her eyes were unfocused, tears streaming down her face, her body twitching uncontrollably with each wave.
Seiji pulled out the vibrator. Kikuri whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her gaping pussy clenching around nothing.
Then he freed his cock.
He positioned himself behind her bound form and thrust in without warning.
Even through the gag, Kikuri's scream was loud. She was oversensitive, wrecked from the forced orgasms, and every thrust hit spots that made her see stars. Her pussy kept spasming, unable to stop coming.
Seiji fucked her like she was nothing. Like she was just a hole to use. His hips slammed against her welted ass, each impact making her whimper in pain and moan in pleasure.
When he finally came, he pulled out and painted her back with it. Thick ropes of cum across the red welts from the crop.
Kikuri's gaze, dazed and tearful, turned to Eliza. Those eyes—begging, broken, pleading for forgiveness.
Eliza felt something shift in her chest. The anger, the resentment she'd carried... it drained away, replaced by something else entirely.
"One more thing." Seiji's voice cut through. "Eliza, come here."
Eliza stood on shaky legs. She didn't know what he intended.
He guided her to stand in front of Kikuri's face. Then he reached under Eliza's skirt and pulled her panties down to her ankles.
"Make her apologize properly."
Kikuri understood. Even gagged, even broken, she understood. When Seiji removed the silk cloth from her mouth, she didn't hesitate.
Her tongue found Eliza's cunt.
Eliza gasped, her hands flying to Kikuri's hair for balance. She'd never—this was—but Kikuri's tongue was skilled and desperate, lapping at her clit like she was trying to earn forgiveness with every stroke.
It didn't take long. Eliza came on her former friend's face, her thighs clamping around Kikuri's head, her voice breaking on a moan she couldn't contain.
When it was over, Kikuri lay sprawled on the carpet, utterly spent. Cum and welts decorated her back. Her face was wet with Eliza's release. Only her exhausted gasping remained.
Seiji walked over to Eliza, caressing her flushed cheek, and smiled as he asked, "Satisfied?"
Eliza turned her head away, tsundere as always. "I-I guess it was okay."
Meanwhile.
Kyoto.
Inside Utaha's upscale apartment.
Night had fallen. Eriri sat cross-legged on the sofa in her pajamas, munching on potato chips while scrolling absentmindedly through the harem LINE group on her phone.
Utaha had just finished bathing. She wore a sexy black silk robe, her long black hair still damp.
She walked out of the bathroom while drying her hair with a towel, the air immediately filling with the rich fragrance of expensive rose-scented shampoo.
"Hey, Utaha, come look at this! Has Eliza gone crazy or what?!"
Eriri suddenly sprang up from the sofa like a startled cat.
She shoved her phone practically into Utaha's face, her expression one of utter disbelief.
"Too close!"
Utaha pushed Eriri away with distaste, then took the phone.
In the harem group, someone had complained about Genesis Company's tight project deadlines. Then, out of nowhere, Eliza had jumped in with a jaw-dropping message.
[Eliza]: Genesis Company provides us with the best creative environment in the industry. Complaining any further is really going too far.
The moment this message appeared, the group went dead silent.
It was only broken by a few scattered replies moments later.
[Nijika]: Huh? I guess Eliza-senpai has a point... The president is strict, but our band has improved really fast because of it! (´・ω・`)
[Seika]: Mm... I suppose that's true...
[PA-san]: What Eliza said is pretty fair.
Surprise flashed across Utaha's face, her brow furrowing unconsciously.
"What the hell is she saying?! Praising that bastard?!" Eriri ranted beside her. "Has she lost her mind? She used to curse Seiji harder than anyone!"
"Something's wrong..." Utaha's expression grew increasingly grave.
"What is it?" Eriri paused, then her face changed as realization hit. "You're right. Eliza would never say something like this."
Utaha quickly grabbed her own phone and pulled up Seika's and PA-san's social media and their recent group messages.
Her fingers flew across the screen, her expression darkening with each swipe.
"Look," she handed the phone to Eriri, "Seika's recent posts are all about how smoothly the livehouse is running, how pleasant the partnership with our company is. She even publicly praised Seiji-kun's 'business vision.' Since when did she ever say that? Before, she was always calling him a slave-driver behind his back."
Eriri's expression sank as she read.
"And PA-san," Utaha's voice turned hoarse, "her gaming streams have been inconsistent for almost a week now. Every time she uses 'too busy with work' as an excuse to her fans. That's not like her at all—she treats streaming as stress relief. No matter how busy she is, she always makes time. This is way too abnormal."
The color drained from Eriri's face.
A terrifying thought surfaced.
"No... no way?" Her voice began to tremble. "You mean... the three of them in the Resistance Front... they've all been wiped out?"
Utaha nodded without hesitation. "Exactly! That's exactly what I think!"
Eriri's heart sank into an abyss.
"There's only one way to know for sure."
Utaha composed herself and opened her private chat with Eliza.
Her fingers hovered over the virtual keyboard for a long time, deleting and retyping, before finally sending a direct question.
[Utaha]: Eliza, did you lose?
The room fell into silence.
Two young women—one standing, one sitting—stared fixedly at the phone screen, waiting for a reply.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely. Every second felt like a century.
One minute later.
Eliza replied.
[Eliza]: Yes, unfortunately, all three of us lost.
The response was like a knife plunging into Utaha and Eriri's hearts.
Utaha's hand trembled violently. The phone slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
"It's over..." Eriri collapsed onto the sofa, eyes vacant, murmuring to herself. "Completely over."
They never imagined.
Seiji had only gone to Tokyo once, and he'd tamed all three troublemakers.
This was too terrifying!
"We've lost, Eriri."
After a long silence, Utaha took a deep breath. Gone was her usual composure and sharp tongue—only a heavy weight remained in her voice. "Perhaps from the very beginning, we never had any chance of winning. Our 'resistance' was probably just his deliberate indulgence."
"Then... what do we do?" Eriri looked at her desperately.
Utaha slowly crouched down and picked up her phone.
She stared at Eliza's reply on the screen, took a deep breath, and the last spark of defiance in her eyes extinguished completely.
"Don't even think about resisting anymore, Eriri!"
Utaha spoke deliberately, word by word. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling finality. "Whatever he wants us to do, we do it."
From that day forward, Utaha and Eriri were completely cowed.
When facing Seiji, they became unprecedentedly obedient, not daring to voice any objection.
Of course, in private, the complaints and curses about Seiji continued.
While Seiji was enjoying the fruits of his victory.
Tokyo.
A cramped rental unit in an old apartment building.
The room was dimly lit. The air reeked of cheap shochu and leftover food gone sour.
A middle-aged man in a grimy undershirt lay passed out on the tatami, surrounded by empty bottles and pachinko parlor flyers...
The TV was on, playing some noisy variety show, but no one was watching.
The door opened quietly. A girl in the uniform of Haneoka Girls' Academy dragged her exhausted body inside.
She had beautiful long pale blue hair, perfect features, and an elegant bearing.
But at this moment, that face—which should have been full of youthful vitality—was marked with a weariness and numbness far beyond her years.
The girl was Sakiko Toyokawa.
"I'm home."
She opened the door, glanced at her father passed out on the floor, and a complex emotion flickered in those beautiful eyes.
There was heartache, disappointment, but more than anything—an unbreakable familial bond.
"Haah..."
Sakiko Toyokawa sighed, walked over, and turned off the TV.
Then she began the routine of cleaning up the mess—putting the bottles one by one into a garbage bag, folding the scattered clothes.
But when she reached into her father's jacket pocket and pulled out several empty wallets and pachinko prize vouchers, her gaze dimmed.
To keep this family going, to let her father keep "living" like this, she was utterly exhausted.
Money.
She needed money.
Money to maintain their livelihood. Money to pay off the 16.8 billion yen debt. Money to help her father get back on his feet!
But what could she do?
Although her grandfather allowed her to keep enjoying her status as the Toyokawa family's young lady, the condition was abandoning her father... but she didn't want to abandon him.
So the Toyokawa family was out of the question. She had to find another way.
At Ryo Yamada's place.
Seiji lounged lazily on the soft sofa.
From Eliza to PA-san, to Utaha and Eriri—all the troublemakers in the harem had been tamed... at least they wouldn't display open resistance in front of him anymore.
Seiji was quite satisfied with this result.
He picked up the wine glass from the table and gently swirled the red liquid inside.
It wasn't a deliberately chosen vintage—just something casually grabbed from the hotel wine cellar. But with his Wine Connoisseur ability, one small sip revealed everything about the wine in his mind.
1996 Romanée-Conti. That year, Burgundy had a warmer climate, resulting in extremely ripe grapes. The tannins became silky smooth because of it, yet a brief rain before harvest gave the finished wine a crisp note in its finish...
This knowledge came as naturally as breathing.
Just then, his phone vibrated.
An encrypted message from his security company.
"Hm? What's this about?"
Seiji was somewhat surprised.
He hadn't assigned any tasks recently. The security company was running quietly—they wouldn't bother him unless something major came up.
He picked up his phone, and his expression immediately sharpened.
[Mole: Toyokawa family movement. Appears Toyokawa Sadaharu critically ill, hospitalized.]
"Toyokawa Sadaharu?"
Seiji paused, then his gaze turned keen.
The Toyokawa family—in his previous life, he'd seen them as a background power in the girls' band anime Mygo. They were the origin family of one of the characters, Sakiko Toyokawa.
And within this family, Toyokawa Sadaharu was the current patriarch.
Also Sakiko's grandfather.
"So he's critically ill?" Seiji murmured to himself, thinking it over. A smile curved his lips.
A bit like kicking someone when they're down, but...
This was an opportunity delivered right to his doorstep.
"Megumi." Seiji suddenly spoke.
"Fujiwara-sensei."
Megumi, who had been working quietly at a desk nearby, immediately rose and walked over.
"Pull up the latest intel on the Toyokawa family."
"Yes."
Megumi asked no questions. She turned and retrieved a prepared file from her tablet, handing it to Seiji.
In Tokyo, every major family collected information on each other.
Seiji was gathering intel on others, and others were probing for information on him too.
Normally, everyone maintained a civil facade.
But the moment someone showed weakness, those friendly faces would transform into beasts, lunging in to drink blood and devour flesh.
Well, that's just how brutal the game is. Seiji mused.
He looked down at the file.
On the first page was a photo of Sakiko Toyokawa.
In the picture, she was still in her CRYCHIC band days, wearing performance attire. Her face carried a gentle, pure smile—like moonlight itself—perfectly embodying the image of a "gentle young lady."
Seiji gazed at her appreciatively.
Admittedly, the pure and innocent Sakiko was truly beautiful, enough to make anyone's heart flutter.
Unfortunately, his style was more physical than emotional. He had no patience for the slow, drawn-out approach of those youth romance novels.
So he probably wouldn't get to see the pure Sakiko—only the fallen one.
But that's fine. The body's the same either way. Seiji thought dismissively.
The Toyokawa family's internal conflicts were extremely sharp.
The main reason was that Toyokawa Sadaharu was an adopted son-in-law—not a true Toyokawa by blood.
He'd only managed to suppress the branch families through his exceptional skills and his daughter, who carried the main bloodline.
But his daughter had died unexpectedly years ago.
And Toyokawa Sadaharu's own health had declined with age. Naturally, he could no longer keep everyone in line.