Mirko looked at the sky, allowing the drizzle to fall on her skin. Despite her weakened senses, she knew it was about to rain heavily. Thankfully, she had just arrived at her destination.
She cautiously looked left and right in the deserted alleyway to see if there was anyone around. Not for criminals, no. This wasn't the usual job.
She was seeing if there were any civilians to witness her. As soon as she confirmed that there was no one following her, she continued walking.
But this backstreet really was deserted; no signs of anyone living. It was understandable, of course. The place was undesirable. The alleyway was damp and cold, and you could barely make out the bustling main streets from here.
It looked like an abandoned place where criminals gathered.
All of a sudden, Mirko paused before staring at the green door to her right.
Unlike the rest of the place, the door looked polished to the brim, conspicuous.
She knew this was the place.
Thunder struck and the rain got much louder. Unwilling to completely get hosed down from head to toe, Mirko hastily opened the door and entered with her senses heightened to the limit.
Almost immediately after she closed the door behind her, the noise from outside disappeared. Even with her superhuman senses, she could only vaguely hear the heavy raindrops now.
Sound-proofed walls, Mirko observed.
For a room this size, it wasn't a small sum. The person who owned this place should have spent an exorbitant amount of money--which wasn't obvious judging from the look of it all.
The room was dark and completely unassuming. Honestly, it looked like an empty studio.
In the middle, she saw a man, laying in a couch while he smoked a cigarette. He was quite possibly the man she came here to meet.
For the record, she hated the smell of cigars. It indicated the presence of useless goons who didn't take care of their body.
But she was desperate.
While she surveyed him, the man was also looking her up and down with a smirk. Her body tensed from his creepy gaze.
He was half-naked. His muscles, even while relaxed, looked nearly as prominent as the pro-heroes. Obviously, she was used to great physiques in her line of work. It was necessary.
His atmosphere, however, was out of the ordinary.
Her warning signals were going off. Dangerous, she thought.
Due to his overwhelming presence, Mirko belatedly realized the people in front of the man.
Or were they even people...?
Three naked women were reverently kneeling in a 'dogeza' position, unmoving in complete subservience. Mirko couldn't see their faces because they were facing the man, but judging from the sounds they were making, they seemed delirious.
Their foreheads touching the floor, the only parts raised were their shapely asses, where the man's feet were situated.
A whiff of air suddenly passed by Mirko. Her nose twitched, feeling a stinging sensation due to her acute senses. The smell of sex in the room was pervasively overwhelming.
Just many times did they do it in this room...?
Not to mention the heat sticking to her skin. Your heart could palpitate just by the tremendous atmosphere alone.
More importantly, the two women his feet pressed down on....
They were squirting. At regularly short intervals, too. Their bodies twitched as their wet pussies gushed on the floor.
As if getting stepped on felt that great, Mirko thought. Being trampled under someone's feet in the ass like a whore was an insult regardless of context.
And these sluts were
enjoying
it.
Meanwhile, the untouched woman in the middle playfully shook her ass like a bitch, as if begging to be stepped on as well.
She felt disgusted. They looked like sows.
After puffing up smoke, the man finally acknowledged her presence, "A ranker in my midst. Would you look at that?"
Mirko huffed arrogantly. "If I had any fuckin' choice, I wouldn't be here."
He chuckled at her temperament. "So why are you here, bunny?"
Without warning, Mirko threw a hidden knife at him. The metal made a noise as it wedged itself through the wall, perfectly within an inch from the man's ears.
Unlike a normal person's reaction, however, the man didn't even flinch. Mirko slightly admired that.
"Don't call me that." But she detested his arrogance. No one has ever called her bunny and emerged unscathed.
"Jeez, someone's a bit tense. You look like you haven't slept in days."
That's because she hasn't. After her encounter with a certain villain, she's had bouts of insomnia. His quirk, Sleepless, caused her entire sleep system to fall apart. Melatonin abruptly slowed to a halt--circadian rhythms haphazardly shattered.
None of the agencies could find a cure.
Until her friend, Ryuko, suggested for her to see a guy. She was oddly secretive about it, but she promised Mirko his methods worked.
It wasn't until she searched him up that she found out he was a prostitute.
A well-known one, in fact.
She searched her head for a reason why her friend would suggest her to a prostitute. Was it an insult of some kind?
But the more she researched about him, the more Mirko found out just how many renowned people approved of this man--secretly, of course. Otherwise, the world will collapse in shock.
But people at the peak of their respective fields praised his meticulous treatments.
Regardless, Mirko would
kill
herself before she pays someone for sex.
"That's because I haven't."
But she underestimated the constant lethargy and pain that accompanied her insomnia.
At this point, she just wanted it to go away. Maybe she could opt for a massage or something.
"I need you to make me fall asleep. A friend recommended me. I'm...getting desperate," she said, clenching her teeth. It pained her to admit it.
But it was true. This was her last resort.
"That's flattering. I wonder who's the friend."
"That's none of your damn business!" Mirko growled.
"You'd be surprised. Who knows, your friend might be one these three. They're well-known pro-heroes too. Girls, stand up and turn around."
