哲野 Axton

The night was deep and the old road lay silent. A figure dressed in night clothes, moving like a wraith, was stealthily slipping along this long-abandoned path. Suddenly, under the moonlight ahead stood a man — sharp brows and bright eyes, tall and straight, a smile at his mouth so radiant it was almost innocent. "Hey! Brother, still on the road so late? Walking alone at night is dangerous. Want to come and 'have a little go' with me, loosen up your joints?" The man laughed aloud, his voice warm like a bonfire suddenly lit on a winter night. The assassin snorted coldly, hand already on the dagger at his waist, but the man suddenly drew something massive from his back — A pitch-black greatsword, 1.7 meters long and 4 centimeters wide, the blade catching the moonlight with a dangerous, enticing sheen. "My name's Zheye, I specialize in all kinds of backaches and stiff muscles." Zheye smiled even more brightly, grasped the hilt with both hands, and with a light shake the greatsword seemed to come alive and tremble, a fearsome presence. The assassin's pupils constricted. Before he could step back, Zheye strode forward and enthusiastically "greeted" him. The greatsword struck precisely, fiercely, mercilessly — The entire blade slid into the assassin without resistance. The assassin's eyes widened. A stifled gasp escaped his throat; the astonishing sense of "fullness" shoved him stumbling backward until he braced against a withered tree at the roadside to stay upright. "Ugh...!" As Zheye worked vigorously, he didn't forget to explain with enthusiasm: "See, even though this sword is 1.7 meters long and 4 centimeters wide, once it goes in it specially 'expands' — it's made to open channels and relieve tightness. Most importantly — I'm passionate, and the sword is earnest; I guarantee you'll feel so good you'll surrender!" The greatsword bloated wildly inside the assassin, prying every inch open; his legs went weak, his breathing grew ragged, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, yet mixed with an indescribable trembling pleasure. At last, after several deep, powerful 'sword moves' from Zheye, the assassin could no longer bear it — He went limp, panting, hands trembling as he pulled out all his money, bills, coins, even the secret cash in hidden pockets, and handed it all over. Zheye sheathed his sword and stood smiling as brightly as ever, patting the assassin on the shoulder: "See? I told you I'm passionate. Damn... ah no, I mean the sword's pretty big too~" "Next time your back aches or desire burns, come 'have a go' with me anytime. Zheye is open 24 hours — I won't let you down!" The assassin slumped to the ground, looking at this overly enthusiastic, overly endowed man, and for the first time felt... Being 'assassinated' didn't seem so bad. — Zheye Massage Parlor Specializing in all kinds of 'tension' and 'blockages' A passionate greatsword 1.7 meters long and 4 centimeters wide — waiting for you to try