Then he went to the Inari Shrine and "dealt with" the Shikijima Thunder General, whom he considered only fit to submit to him and not worthy of any ambition.
Even the Inari Shrine's high priestess, who had always been as elusive as a cunning fox, obediently opened her legs and offered her virginity under his overwhelming threats.
This greatly relieved the pent-up resentment he felt at being humiliated.
Then he immediately began his operation. His countless blood slaves poured out, quickly taking control of the area surrounding the Inari Shrine, while Zhao Zhiran remained as slippery as an eel.
However, even the most cunning prey cannot escape the hunter's trap, and he eventually found Zhao Zhiran on a beach dozens of kilometers from Edo.
Upon seeing this woman, the memory of being utterly defeated by the God of War, nearly reduced to dust under the blazing sun, flooded back.
Fear itself was his greatest dread.
It's important to understand that the Pride ability of the Seven Deadly Sins wasn't something one was born with. It always existed in the world, but the emergence of the extraordinary wave qualitatively transformed it, making it strategic-level.
However, before that, it had many masters.
Otherwise, the concept of "trait transfer" wouldn't exist; currently, the Seven Deadly Sins themselves haven't found a way to eradicate it.
Because the vast number of billions of beings are the soil in which it truly takes root, just like myths and legends, always so deeply ingrained.
But if the "master" chosen by the Seven Deadly Sins has strayed from the path of Pride, becoming cowardly and fearful, trembling like a stray dog...
When Pride is no longer Pride, that's when it loses its value.
His abilities will continue to weaken until one day he may completely lose his once-proud power, becoming an utterly ordinary person.
His obsession with the Martial God stems from the unspeakable fear he experienced four years ago. For four years, he has gradually felt his abilities waning, a feeling of unbearable torment for a superhuman.
This has deepened his fear.
Therefore, he took the risk of accepting Xu Pengxuan's invitation to Shen City, hoping to resolve the root of his fear.
However, unexpectedly, even a Martial God with only a tenth of his former strength appeared and shattered his confidence and arrogance once again.
His fear far outweighed his anger, and his arrogance was rapidly eroding. He needed to use every means to regain his confidence and maintain his pride.
Yet, due to his weakened state, while acting recklessly, he also harbored some probing and caution.
The same logic applied to his journey to Inari Shrine, and to ordering Zhao Zhiran's arrest only after "conquering" the two most noble women on Shikishima…
Therefore, every word Zhao Zhiran spoke felt like a blood-stained steel nail piercing his heart.
A surge of impotent rage and profound fear nearly drove Simon to madness.
He threw Zhao Zhiran to the ground, and before she could even cry out in pain, he pounced on her, tearing her white coat to shreds.
Beneath the white coat, Zhao Zhiran was only wearing a simple silk nightgown, its thin straps digging into her snow-white shoulders, revealing even the sides of her full, rounded breasts, not to mention her deep cleavage.
Her breasts were clearly visible, and she was obviously not wearing a bra. Looking further down, the lace hem of her nightgown barely covered the top of her rounded, snowy thighs, leaving a delicate gap of about a hand's width between it and the top of her stockings.
Simon sneered, "You still rushed out in a panic..." He reached out and grabbed Zhao Ziran's firm breasts, saying,
"Let me see what makes China's genius girl different from others."
Zhao Ziran had become famous in her youth. Although most ordinary people might not know her, in academic circles and among high-level superhumans, her name was legendary.
She not only solved various scientific problems but was also an important strategist for China. Her unfathomable wisdom had resolved countless conflicts and problems in the superhuman field. It could be said that China's current leading position in the superhuman field was inseparable from her influence.
Even the universally acknowledged perfect strategic-level "Martial God" had her shadow behind its creation.
Zhao Ziran's delicate spaghetti straps, already askew, slipped down her arms. With a pull from Simon's large hand, a single, perfectly round, snow-white breast, like a pointed bamboo shoot and a ripe peach, sprang forth. Simon's eyes widened; the breast was indeed dazzlingly white and smooth, as delicate as ivory, with a porcelain-like sheen.
The rim of her breast was round and full, like an oval, slightly upturned jade melon. The full upper and lower rims were almost indistinguishable, presenting a perfect circle.
The nipple was encircled by a delicate pink ring, smooth and moist, like a small, pursed mouth, forming a tiny horizontal slit—the nipple itself was nowhere to be seen.
A hint of amazement and excitement appeared on Simon's coldly smiling face. No wonder he hadn't seen a protruding nipple through her nightgown; it was a rare, exquisitely beautiful inverted nipple.
This woman's nipples, constantly recessed and never rubbing against clothing, were several times more sensitive than the average person's. In an instant, he knew how to torment her.
Would he pierce her nipples, or give her tiny laser tattoos?
He licked his lips, his large hand already fully grasping her round, jade-like breast. The sensation was like a slippery, semi-solidified sac filled with milk, his fingers seemingly sucked into the soft flesh.
As he kneaded, the full, plump breast was squeezed, its elasticity pushing outwards, almost numbing his palm. The snow-white cream bulged from between his fingers, changing shape with each squeeze. The intense satisfaction and pleasing sight even momentarily tempered the frenzied rage within Simon.
It was similar to last night, when his penis broke through the two cherry-pink petals, revealing a rosy bloom on his shaft.
Then, he pulled open the other side of her sash, and another dazzling breast eagerly sprang out. The same was true on the other side; the areola was tightly closed, the nipple hidden deep within.
Simon lowered his head, sucking and nibbling at the tender nipple, making soft, sucking sounds. When he looked up again, the delicate areola glistened with moisture, and the nipple's slit looked like a small, diamond-shaped opening, its pink flesh resembling the tender stalk of a freshly peeled chicken head, half-hidden within, half-revealed.
Excited, Simon kneaded and squeezed the nipple, rubbing the areola until it swelled slightly, trying to force the hidden nipple out, occasionally teasing it with his tongue.
But he had expected Zhao Ziran to tremble with fear, begging and moaning. After playing with her for a long time, he felt no tremor in her body whatsoever; even her breathing only became slightly more rapid, completely within the normal range.
Simon glanced at Zhao Ziran's face and instantly felt a surge of rage. It turned out… Zhao Ziran was looking at him with a hint of pity, as if he were a stray dog scurrying all over him.
"Fine, fine… you can bear it. I'll see if you feel no pain!"
Simon laughed in fury. To him, instead of seeing the fear and trembling on his enemy's woman's face, he saw a condescending pity and contempt. This was the greatest insult, striking at his weakest and most enraged spot.
He lifted one of Zhao Ziran's long, shapely legs. From thigh to ankle, the curves were smooth and slender, every line perfectly proportioned, incredibly straight, the muscles exquisitely defined.
Truly, any more or less would ruin this perfect proportion.
It was as if the owner of this leg had always trained with perfect precision, like a machine.
Even Simon, a man who had seen countless women, was captivated by this perfection and exquisite beauty. He stroked the alluring black stockings on her legs. Zhao Ziran wasn't wearing any expensive stockings; they were just ordinary styles from the mall.
However, the smooth, supple skin of her legs elevated the feel of the stockings to a whole new level. His fingers felt as if they were nothing to the touch, sliding down her calves to her slender ankles, where a glossy black high heel hung.
Simon swiftly pulled off the high heel. It was a very ordinary high heel, without any extra embellishments. But the moment the top was removed, a captivating scent of sweat mingled with the aroma of fresh leather, inexplicably alluring.
Her jade-like feet, encased in black stockings, were even more delicate and slender, with soft, plump soles that glowed with a delicate pinkish hue. Her snow-white toes, like peeled scallions, were gathered together, resembling a row of glistening grapes.
The entire foot was more plump and fleshy than imagined. The instep was full and rounded like mutton-fat jade, the ankle round and smooth, slightly smaller than a goose egg, yet exceptionally delicate.
The lines of the sole were even more exquisitely smooth. The arch of the foot formed a tender curve, revealing an alluring whiteness. The heel and forefoot, however, were soft and plump like cat's paw pads, with graceful lines. It possessed both the arched curves of a mature woman and the plumpness of a young girl, feeling like holding a tender, fresh, and full-bodied fruit in one's hand.