Though he didn’t understand why, and had no clue what the girl wanted with his hand, the young man—having already promised to “take responsibility”—kept his word. Obediently, he offered his right hand.

At first glance, it seemed ordinary. At most, its fingers looked elegant, well-proportioned, and perfectly long. Aside from seeming ideal for piano playing, it differed little from any other man’s hand.

But closer inspection revealed thick calluses covering every spot prone to them. With sharper focus, tracing the skin’s contours, one noticed the wheat-colored flesh densely scarred with thin, long marks—both new and old—that sent chills down the spine.

If forced to use an awkward analogy for these unbelievably long scars, it’d be like this hand had been stuffed into a meat grinder with tightly packed spiral blades. The scars spiraled up from his palm along his arm, vanishing under his white shirt cuff.

What… was this?

Nainai’s small, soft hands clamped around the young man’s much larger one. Her violet eyes flickered uncertainly. This man’s identity was definitely no ordinary thing.

Within the Federation, “Extraordinary Beings” were scarce compared to the population—but not as rare as nationally endangered species, especially low-tier “Weak Rank” ones. Yet an Extraordinary Being bearing wounds like these? As rare as a giant panda.

True, the “Federation Four Stars” bordering the “Containment Zone” were fiercely martial. But deep inland Ashi City? A “civilized city.” Unaffiliated Extraordinary Beings lived like regular citizens—working, sipping tea, no time for constant fighting.

So this man? One hundred percent in some high-risk profession…

—But what did that have to do with her?

Nainai shrugged disdainfully. As long as she was fed full, she wouldn’t care if he dropped dead instantly. Even if he was a tattooed triad boss, what did that matter to her—a poor, cute, starving little succubus?

“Let me be clear,” she murmured resentfully, gripping his slightly rough palm. “Even if you feed me, I’ll never thank you. I hate you.”

Without giving him a trace of time to respond, she slowly lowered her head. Her waist-length, faintly pink hair cascaded like a peach-blossom waterfall over her rounded shoulders. A breeze playfully slapped strands against his wrist.

Her bewitching eyes narrowed to a glistening line, long lashes accentuating the peach eyeshadow at her corners. Lips like strawberry pudding parted slightly. A wet, pink tongue timidly peeked out—soft as a kitten lapping milk—and pressed slowly against his callused palm.

Indescribable.

The instant rough met soft, fine invisible currents sparked between them. The young man’s body stiffened abruptly.

…

Salty… like sweat, blood, and his own scent mixed. Strange, yet not unpleasant. Nainai didn’t mind that part. But the thick calluses felt like sandpaper, stinging her tongue sporadically.

She retracted her tongue, pursing her lips to savor the lingering taste. Saliva seeped from her mouth, gluing honey-colored strands to her flushed, shame-warmed cheeks.

“Ooh ooh ooh…”

Xu Yingsnow stared wide-eyed through her fingers—useless for hiding anything—letting out low, weird gasps. Mmm, Nainai was just licking a hand, yet Xu Yingsnow found it unbearably lewd. Probably because Nainai was involved. With a little succubus, even brushing teeth turned scandalous—like that time Xu Yingsnow dragged her month-long unwashed self to the sink, and she’d closed her eyes, opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue…

Just recalling it made Xu Yingsnow’s face burn. Her thoughts felt corrupted—deeply infected by the “Nainai virus.”

Nainai heard the muffled squeals. She merely opened her eyes a slit, lazily glancing back while rolling a flirtatious white eye. She ignored the mood-killing OL beauty.

Because she’d heard his breath hitch when her tongue touched his palm. Felt his body freeze like an ice pop solid enough for fencing.

Ooh, so you liked this? Not overly lewd stuff—but pure-seeming acts hiding a hint of spice? That hit your G-spot?

Nainai felt she’d found this stone man’s weakness. Tail up, wings spread!

Excitedly licking her dry lips, a mischievous smile curling, she repeated the motion. Her soft pink tongue pressed against his stiff, lightly sweating hand. Gazing up, she watched his face—his lips pressed tight. Her purple eyes shimmered with hazy, bone-melting light.

His palm was already slick with her spit…

Next, the fingers…

Amethyst eyes misty, she licked her cherry lips, that ambiguous smile fixed on his slender index finger…

“Ah… mmm…”

(Use your imagination, thanks.)

This angle. This expression. This move—lethal.

“…”

His breathing deepened. Finally, his expression shifted. A faint, almost invisible blush of embarrassment rose. He averted his gaze, free hand clenched into a fist at his trouser seam—as if enduring something.

“Don’t… gulp… turn away, ha… look at me… gurgle…”

Now that she’d found his weakness, Nainai wouldn’t let go. “You promised. This is my demand…”

Her hazy, sticky sigh—like sweet milk stirred by a spoon—yanked his wavering attention back.

I worked hard to arouse you. Don’t you dare run!

Pop.

Sparks flared. Fueled by desire, the pink flame Nainai craved ignited. Tiny as a matchstick—easily snuffed by wind—yet within it bloomed sun-bright radiance.

This visibly superb quality stunned even the “well-traveled,” “experienced” Nainai.