CHAPTER 463: BEHIND THE CURTAINS

Similar to how the crowd was confused, the trio were also baffled as well.

Skadi narrowed her sharp eyes, voice laced with quiet urgency as she turned to Aisha.

"What the hell even is that ability? Do you know anything about this technique?" She shook her head slightly. "I don’t remember Master ever showing off magic. I mean, does he even have mana?"

Aisha’s lips were pursed in a small frown, her brow creased as she studied the stage.

"No...not really. I’m as lost as you are." Her voice carried a rare touch of hesitation, the usual crispness dulled by genuine confusion. "And you’re right...I don’t feel any mana either. Nothing. It’s like his body’s completely empty...no flow, no core, not even residual traces."

Julie leaned forward, arms crossed beneath her chest, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

"The only thing I’ve ever heard him say, if it’s even relevant, is that he...’received’ this gift from someone above. Like, literally. He always talks like it’s a reward. Something he was given for doing something incredible. But he never says more than that. I tried asking once, and he just smiled."

Their heads tilted slightly in unison, a shared bafflement bridging the three of them with the audience who stared on, waiting for some sort of explanation.

But instead of shedding light on the power, Cassius just smiled, stepping forward as the crowd collectively leaned in.

"I know you’re all wondering how exactly I’m going to do this." He said, his voice calm, carrying like a steady drumbeat through the hush.

Several in the front rows nodded eagerly, others murmuring, hungry for an answer.

"But before that..."

He turned his gaze downward, to Emma, clinging tightly to him, her arms looped around his neck, her cheek brushing against his chest.

Her eyes shimmered, half-lidded with a heated, dreamy haze, lips parted and breathing faint and quick. She pressed her body against his like she was trying to mold into him, and there was no mistaking it—her hips kept shifting, grinding subtly, like she was aching for something more than just comfort.

"...Let me take care of Emma over here."

The crowd blinked in unison.

"She’s clearly...craving something." He said with a faint grin. "And since I’m the one who caused it, I’m going to take responsibility."

He turned his head to the onlookers, his expression totally unapologetic.

"Just give me a few minutes." He added casually. "I’ll be right back."

Before a single voice could rise in protest, Cassius was already striding off, Emma in his arms, carried behind the thick curtain draping the rear of the makeshift stage. The warehouse fell into an uncertain hush, the rustle of fabric the last sound as he vanished from view.

A pulse of confusion rippled through the crowd.

"Wait, what’s going on?"

"Is he seriously, what is he going to do?"

"Behind the curtain? Right now?!"

And then it started.

At first, it was just a small sound, Emma’s voice, high and breathy. "W-Wait...Young Master...How can it be this big...?"

A pause. And then a giggle that melted into a rising moan.

"That won’t fit...I-I’m serious...th-there’s no way..."

More gasps. Then her voice cracked into a squeal.

"N-No! Wait, wait! A-Aahhnn—ahhh! Oh my god—oh my god, i-it’s going inside!"

Then the sound that made jaws drop: wet, rhythmic slapping. The unmistakable pap pap pap of hips meeting flesh. Again. And again. And again. Each hit sharpened by the echoing acoustics of the warehouse.

Emma was practically screaming now.

"Aaahhh!♡~ It’s so big, s-so deep—haaahhh, it’s so inside of me!! I c-can’t, I can’t believe this...! Nghhh!♡~"

Moans came like waves crashing against the walls, drawn out, high-pitched, lost in pleasure.

"Aaahn! Yes! Yes, just like that—bohhh—you’re too fast, Young Master!♡~ T-Too fast! Hyaaah! D-Don’t stop, don’t stop, please!♡~"

Hearing this happen right behind her, Julie blinked, cheeks flushed, her face unreadable for a moment before she gave a breathy laugh.

"Well...guess there’s no such thing as shame for characters like him."

Aisha’s teeth clenched, her arms crossed tightly, red flooding her face as the chorus behind the curtain kept rolling.

"He really has no damn shame...in front of hundreds of people, no less..."

"I mean..." Julie added, shrugging. "He does whatever he wants. Who’s gonna stop him? That’s just how he is."

"Poor girl...It looks like Master has taken a liking to her body." Skadi muttered under her breath, but even she was shifting awkwardly, her own cheeks tinged faint pink as Emma’s cries rang louder.

Meanwhile, the audience was collectively stunned.

No one moved. No one even dared breathe too loud.

A handful had their hands clamped over their mouths in disbelief; others flushed from ears to collarbones, some even holding their thighs tightly together, trying to process what they were hearing.

"He must be massive..." Someone whispered in the crowd.

"Yeah, no wonder she’s screaming like that."

"That’s not even acting...that’s real..."

"...I want to see it."

Behind the curtain, the storm continued, unabated.

"Ooooh—Young Master—ngh! T-That’s it! F-Faster! Please! Aahn—aahhnn, yes, yes, yes!♡~ R-Ravage me!♡~"

The sound of the clap, clap, clap of bodies only grew harder, more frantic. One could feel the speed increase from the pounding rhythm alone.

More breathless declarations followed, Emma babbling between moans:

"S-So good—haaah!♡~ It feels so good I can’t think, my head’s melting—ahhh, Young Master!♡~ ’

"Please, please, fill me up, Young Master!♡~ D-Don’t stop, I’m yours—I’m yours!! Young Maaaster! I-I’m gonna cum—I’m cumming!♡~"’

"Schlurp!♡~ Splish!♡~ Splat!♡~ Squish!♡~"

"Gloop!♡~ Drip!♡~ Splurt!♡~ Plop!♡~"

Hearing the sound of seemed to water splashing behind the curtains, the crowd went silent.

Utter silence. As if someone had hit mute on the world.

And then the whispers began, soft at first, like the rustle of dry leaves, then swelling into a storm of gossip and flushed awe as the crowd began talking over one another in hushed but increasingly desperate voices.

"Did you hear her? That wasn’t acting, that was real. She was crying."

"She sounded like she died and ascended. I’ve never heard a woman scream like that without getting murdered."

"I think she was...happy about it, though. Really happy."

"What the hell did he do to her back there...?"

"I thought the rumors were exaggerated...But after that? No. No way. That wasn’t acting. That wasn’t faked. You don’t scream like that unless your soul is getting turned inside out..."

Dozens of women were flushed down to their collarbones, fanning themselves, biting their lips, thighs pressing together beneath skirts and leggings, shifting on their heels.

Some had their hands casually resting low on their bellies, almost unconsciously rubbing themselves, drawn with the heel of a palm through fabric, pretending it was just nerves.

But it wasn’t.

"I swear I could hear her insides sloshing from out here." A younger girl murmured, mouth slack. "And that sound...oh god...the slapping...I could feel it in my bones."

"He must be huge." Someone whispered with reverence. "Like...really huge. You heard her. She kept saying it wouldn’t fit..."

Another joined in with a sigh. "It wasn’t just size though. The way she moaned...it was rhythm. She was crying, then laughing, then begging like her body wasn’t hers anymore. That’s technique. That’s skill."

A woman in a red blouse groaned softly into her palm. "What the fuck...why can’t my husband do anything like that?"

Her friend nodded, voice breathless. "Same...same. My man gives me a minute and an apology. This man’s out here giving spiritual awakenings."

"I don’t even know what positions they were in—but whatever the hell he just pulled behind that curtain? I need to learn it. Study it. Live it."

"And the way she screamed for him to fill her up—gods, she sounded like she was about to die and be reborn in his cum."

One particularly red-faced woman gasped and fanned herself with both hands.

"He must’ve slept with hundreds. No, thousands. Nobody’s born that talented. That’s practice. That’s training."

"Rumors said he kidnapped girls, right?" One woman murmured, blinking in dawning realization. "But now? I don’t think he had to."

"Yeah, screw that, if he just walked down the street doing that technique, people would line up."

"Forget lining up! If he so much as lifted his shirt I’d throw my entire life saving at him!"

"And that poor girl behind the curtain, she’s not walking straight for a week. I guarantee."

"Oh, she’s not walking anywhere."

"I’d kill to be next." Someone whispered under her breath, barely audible.

"Same."

"Same."

"Same."

Several nods. Some too vigorously.

"Why can’t my husband do that?" One girl muttered. "I ask him to slap my ass once and he acts like I suggested arson."

"Right?" Another groaned. "Last week I asked mine to choke me a little and he went to complain to his mother the next day."

There was laughter, then another wave of flushed silence.

Every eye was on the curtain.

The aura of Cassius hadn’t even faded, and already the crowd had rebranded him—from charming playboy to walking, breathing sex god with a mythical dick that apparently broke logic.

"He really has no shame." Aisha muttered as she watched everyone’s reactions. "But I suppose, for once...that’s exactly what we need for the mission."

Julie nodded before saying with a wry smile, "Let’s just hope he doesn’t start a new religion in this village by accident, since everyone here looks like they want to build a temple and worship him."