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Chapter - 133 Indulgent life. Time to leave. (R-18)
🕑 Added 2025-04-27 17:44:00 +0000 UTCMeanwhile, deep within Impel Down, the warden, who had already begun summoning workers to construct the villa, suddenly stiffened as he remembered the emergency signal he had sent to Marineford.
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
‘Damn it... that must have caused chaos at headquarters.’
Without wasting another second, he grabbed the Den Den Mushi, which had just recovered consciousness, and urgently called Marshal Sengoku.
The connection buzzed before a familiar, heavy voice answered.
Inside the Marshal’s office at Marineford.
Sengoku leaned forward, brows furrowed, as he listened to Tanya’s hurried explanation. When the warden finally finished, Sengoku exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Relief washed over him, but it couldn’t completely erase the annoyance gnawing at his chest. The hours of tension, the pressure from the higher-ups, the scrambling of resources — all for nothing.
With a clipped movement, Sengoku ended the call.
"Bring back the Vice Admirals," he ordered his adjutant coldly. "The mission is canceled. There’s no problem at Impel Down."
"Yes, sir!" The adjutant saluted sharply and bolted from the office to stop the departing fleet before it left port.
Sengoku’s scowl deepened. His mind turned to a particular man — or rather, a particular headache.
He picked up the Den Den Mushi again and dialed.
— Gatcha.
…
"Yo, Marshal," came a lazy, almost sing-song voice. "I don’t think there’s any real problem over here at Impel Down."
Kizaru lounged casually near the entrance, his golden eyes half-lidded as he watched the scene before him: guards sprawled out unconscious, foam leaking from their mouths, Den Den Mushi overturned and twitching weakly.
"Borsalino," Sengoku’s voice cracked through, tense and sharp, "have you already reached Impel Down? What’s the situation?"
Kizaru tilted his head, as if the question itself was tedious. He answered with a yawn hidden behind his hand, "Just a few fainted prison guards, prisoners, and Den Den Mushi. Nothing too dramatic. The communication failure? Blame it on them."
But then, his voice dropped its lazy edge, turning somber.
"Marshal... about the Haki that hit them." Kizaru’s tone hardened, a rare seriousness coloring his words. "It’s unmistakable. That’s Saint Lakeman’s Conqueror’s Haki. It’s just... several times stronger than the last time I sensed it."
The Den Den Mushi mimicked Sengoku’s frown perfectly.
Sengoku’s hand tightened around his chair’s armrest.
Saint Lakeman. That boy’s growth was already monstrous. If he was evolving this quickly... the world would have no choice but to tremble sooner or later.
Kizaru broke the heavy silence with a lazy chuckle.
"Marshal, I’m heading back to the New World. If Saint Lakeman catches me loitering around, he’ll probably give me another lecture about slacking off. I’d rather not listen to that again, y’know?"
Without waiting for permission, Kizaru casually hung up.
Standing in front of the towering black gates of Impel Down, Kizaru shoved his hands into his pockets and muttered with a crooked smile, "Young people these days... really are terrifying."
His body shimmered, breaking apart into countless glittering beams of light.
In the next instant, he was gone — a brilliant flash racing across the sky, piercing the ocean winds.
Within a single minute, Kizaru had already reentered the chaotic, lawless seas of the New World.
—------
In the next two days, while leisurely residing on the second floor, Lakeman secured two more sources of training feedback as the system successfully bound Shiryu and Magellan.
All their relentless training efforts were amplified a hundredfold and continuously fed into Lakeman’s body, strengthening him day and night like an invisible, unstoppable tide.
‘Now there’s nothing left to do in Impel Down. My new villa will be completed soon. How can I not fully savor everything before leaving here?’
Thinking about the passionate, sinful nights he had once spent with his women in the previous villa before its destruction, a potent heat began to pool between his legs. His cock stirred with unmistakable anticipation, hardening with vivid memories of their wild indulgence.
Lakeman cast a casual glance at the maid serving him food. With a slight movement of his hand beneath the table, he gestured silently.
The maid, understanding immediately, flushed deep red but did not hesitate. She placed the silver tray down carefully and, trembling slightly, bent forward, disappearing under the table with graceful obedience.
The hall, once filled only with the clinking of cutlery, now resonated with the unmistakable wet sounds of lust.
Slurp.
Slurp.
From their seats, Hancock, Robin, and Lily looked on with amused, hungry gazes, sipping their wine and eating slowly as they watched the scene unfold, the corners of their mouths lifting in subtle, knowing smiles.
Under the table, the maid's soft, warm mouth enveloped Lakeman’s throbbing cock. Her lips wrapped tightly around his girth as her tongue eagerly worked him, tracing every vein and ridge with worshipful attention.
Lakeman exhaled a low groan of satisfaction, tilting his head back slightly as pleasure coursed through him. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, barely suppressing his primal urges.
After the meal, two maids came forward to clean and dry his hands with delicate, trembling fingers, but his focus remained firmly beneath the table.
Unable to resist, Lakeman shifted slightly, plunged his hand under the cloth, and seized the maid’s fiery hair. Twisting the silky strands around his fist, he forced her deeper onto his cock, making her throat bulge obscenely with each thrust.
The tightness of her gullet, the wet suction, the desperate little whimpers she made as she gagged around his thickness—all of it fueled his sadistic pleasure.
Minutes later, the rising pressure snapped.
"Umm..." Lakeman growled darkly, and without warning, he erupted inside her mouth.
The maid jerked slightly, startled, as thick, hot streams of his cum flooded her throat. Some of it overflowed, spilling from her lips and dripping down her chin, trailing in creamy rivulets down her slender neck to pool between her heaving breasts.
She coughed hard, droplets even spilling from her delicate nose, but she didn't dare move away.
Lakeman’s crimson gaze glowed with command as he said in a low, firm voice, "Drink it all."
The maid, shivering from both humiliation and excitement, obeyed instantly. She swallowed what she could, then scooped the overflowing remnants from her skin with trembling fingers, licking them clean with soft, wet sounds.
Lakeman smirked coldly. He grabbed her fiery red hair again, wrapped it around his cock like a cloth, and methodically wiped himself clean with it, ensuring no trace of his cum was wasted.
"Meal was delicious," he murmured lazily, fastening his gaze on her trembling figure as he stood up fully, his cock still heavy and pulsing in the open air.
His pants remained puddled on the floor, but he paid them no mind.
Without another word, he turned to Robin, Hancock, and Lily, who rose eagerly from their chairs, their eyes gleaming with lust.
He swept them into his arms with casual dominance and strode toward his private quarters.
Inside the lavish bedroom, chaos descended immediately.
Their clothes were ripped away with impatient hands, their naked skin bared to the cool air in an instant.
Lakeman’s muscular form pressed against them, his blood-red eyes burning with animalistic hunger.
Their bodies entwined, a writhing knot of bare limbs and heated flesh. He claimed their lips one by one—Hancock’s soft, trembling mouth; Robin’s skillful, teasing tongue; Lily’s sweet, desperate whimpers—all melting against his dominance.
Hands roamed freely. His palms cupped heavy breasts, squeezed soft asses, explored trembling thighs. His fingers traced along their delicate spines, sending shivers through their bodies.
Hancock gasped as he sucked and bit her pale neck, leaving dark bruises in his wake. Robin moaned as he roughly kneaded her breast, his thumb teasing her stiffening nipples. Lily whimpered and clung to his arm as he forced her to straddle his thigh, grinding her soaking slit shamelessly against his hard muscle.
The room was filled with the sounds of depravity—skin slapping against skin, muffled moans, cries of pleasure, and whispered, desperate pleas for more.
The bed rocked violently under their movements, the heavy curtains fluttering with every slam of flesh against flesh.
Lakeman took them one after another, never allowing them a moment to recover. He pounded his cock into Hancock from behind while Robin rode his face with wild abandon.
He pinned Lily beneath him, making her cry out, her back arching beautifully as he drove her to another shuddering climax.
Hours blurred into one endless stream of lust and sin.
By the time Lakeman finally allowed sleep to claim them, the room was drenched in the sweet, musky scent of sex. Their bodies were tangled together in a sweaty, sticky heap, marked all over with bites, hickeys, and scratches—proof of a night that had utterly destroyed their strength.
The next day, around noon, Lakeman finally stirred awake.
He slowly extracted himself from the web of limbs draped over him, taking a moment to admire the girls’ slumbering forms. Their creamy skin was littered with love marks; their thighs were sticky with the remnants of their lust.
Feeling a surge of possessive pride, he began waking them up.
A chorus of soft groans and moans answered him as they stretched their exhausted bodies. Their backs arched lazily, presenting their soft curves and taut nipples to his greedy gaze.
Without wasting the morning, Lakeman herded the still-drowsy girls into the luxurious marble bathroom.
What was meant to be a bath quickly turned into another debauched session.
Water splashed as naked bodies tangled again. Hands glided over wet skin, mouths found sensitive spots, and once more, moans echoed off the steamy walls.
Hancock clung to Lakeman’s back, raining kisses along his shoulder blades. Robin knelt between his legs, her skilled tongue teasing his cock back to full, throbbing hardness. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering breathless, sinful promises in his ear.
By the time they finally managed to actually bathe, two hours had slipped by.
They emerged from the bathroom with flushed skin, damp hair, and sated smiles.
After dressing in fresh clothes, they headed for dinner—completely at ease, the atmosphere between them saturated with a warm, indulgent intimacy forged from endless nights of pleasure and surrender.
That evening, the routine continued.
Inside the grand dining hall of the second floor, Lakeman lounged lazily at the head of the long, ornate table, wearing a loose robe that barely hid his robust, sculpted frame.
Hancock, Robin, Lily, and the now utterly broken-in maids surrounded him, serving food, pouring wine, and catering to his every whim with obedient smiles and heated glances.
As they dined, Lakeman casually played with them without a care in the world.
Robin sat perched on his lap, feeding him pieces of exotic fruit with her delicate fingers.
Each time her hand neared his lips, Lakeman would take the fruit into his mouth, but also deliberately suck her fingers, licking them slowly and sensually—making her cheeks flush and her thighs press tightly together.
Meanwhile, Hancock, seated beside him, slowly inched closer, until she shamelessly began stroking his inner thigh under the table, her delicate hand brushing against his growing cock, teasing him skillfully with featherlight touches that sent jolts of pleasure through him.
Lily, not to be left out, knelt under the table, her eyes gleaming with mischief. As the meal continued, she pulled his robe open and took his cock into her mouth with slow, deliberate movements, savoring his taste while remaining hidden from the maids entering and leaving the hall.
Slurp.
Suck.
Slurp.
Wet, muffled sounds blended naturally with the soft clinking of cutlery and quiet conversation, creating a surreal atmosphere of casual depravity.
Lakeman remained seated regally, acting as if nothing unusual was happening, occasionally commenting lazily on the flavor of the food or giving idle instructions to the servants—his voice steady even as his pleasure built with each sensual tug of Lily's eager mouth.
His hand rested possessively on Robin's bare thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making her bite her lip to suppress a moan. Meanwhile, Hancock shifted closer, leaning into him so her full breasts pressed enticingly against his arm.
It was decadent. It was obscene. It was a routine they savored.
This continued for two more blissful days—meals filled with secret, wicked pleasures, nights drowned in sweat and moans, their bodies intertwined until they could hardly tell where one ended and another began.
Finally, after two days, news came that their new villa in the Cold Eternal Hell was completed.
Lakeman’s blood-red eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he led his devoted harem back down to the frozen wasteland, back to their new, even grander home carved into the eternal ice.
Their return to Cold Eternal Hell marked the beginning of a new phase of debauchery.
The next week was spent in complete, uninhibited indulgence.
They filled every room, every hall, every luxurious bath, every secret corner of the villa with the echoes of their passion. The pristine, cold villa was soon tainted with the heat of their endless sinful symphony.
Moans bounced off the crystal-like ice walls. Bedsheets were ruined from rough nights. Even the vast hot springs, newly installed in the villa, became sites of wild, slippery debauchery.
The marks of their lust—the scent of sex, the faint scratches on elegant furniture, the stained silken sheets—became proof of their domination of this once-pristine place.
During one of these days, Lakeman decided to descend alone once more into the depths of Eternal Hell.
There, shackled in heavy sea-stone chains from neck to ankles, Golden Lion Shiki glared at him with burning hatred.
Lakeman approached with a calm, casual smile and spoke leisurely, "It was I who ordered the warden to wrap your entire body in seastone chains. Not just your hands and feet like the others."
Shiki's veins bulged with fury, his body trembling under the oppressive weight of the sea-stone.
Had only his limbs been bound, he could have severed his legs to attempt an escape—one final, desperate gamble.
But now, with his entire body imprisoned, there was no hope left.
The realization sent another wave of humiliation and rage through Shiki’s battered mind.
His fists clenched until blood seeped from his palms, but he said nothing.
Lakeman waited a moment, watching him in amusement, then turned and left without granting Shiki the satisfaction of a final retort.
Only after Lakeman’s footsteps faded into the distance did Shiki erupt in curses, his hoarse voice echoing weakly across the frozen prison.
But it was meaningless.
His humiliation was complete.
Just like that, after a week of endless, sinful indulgence, it was finally time to leave Impel Down.
Lakeman stood at the highest balcony of his villa, the cold wind whipping through his black hair as he gazed into the distance.
A faint smirk played on his lips.
Sabaody Archipelago awaited.
And there, his needy slut, Stussy, and two newly ordered virgin princesses were waiting for his attention—untouched, innocent girls about to be molded into perfect playthings under his hands.
The journey to a new paradise of lust was about to begin.
Lakeman turned away from the icy view and strode back into the villa, with Hancock, Robin, Lily,
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