CHAPTER 175: LOGAN’S RATED-X

–Logan–

I booked a direct flight to Japan. Just the thought of going there made me grin. I knew I wouldn’t get bored. Sure, it was partly business, but I was also planning to enjoy the nightlife—the clubs, the bars... and the women.

It was only a few hours of flight, first class, with great service. I slept for a bit and dreamed of floating, the hum of turbulence lulling me like a lover’s whisper. What woke me was the captain’s voice announcing our descent.

Not a bad flight.

The moment we landed, I headed straight out. A shabby-looking car waited for me by the curb, and beside it stood a staff member from the laboratory who looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were ringed dark, but he greeted me with forced cheer.

"Yaa, Rōgan-san! Furaito wa dou datta?" Kei greeted enthusiastically despite looking half-dead.

"Yaa, Kei. Furaito wa mondai nakatta yo. Unten shitemo ii?" I asked, gesturing toward the driver’s seat.

"Uun, ii n janai?"

"Perfect. You should rest in the backseat—get some sleep before you have to tour me around the lab."

"Thank you."

He loaded my bag into the trunk and climbed into the back, already slipping on an eyemask and settling among the pillows. Out cold within seconds.

This man probably lives in his car now. Workaholic. But I know it’s because of Livana—they’re pushing for the perfect human body project. I only hope it works. If Livana decides she wants another child, there’s still time to create something flawless.

I drove through the busy Tokyo streets until the gates of Livana’s residence came into view—under the care of a Yakuza boss, of course. Women in elegant kimonos stood outside waiting as I pulled in.

"Kei," I called softly. "Wake up. Take a bath first, we’ll visit the lab later tonight."

Kei blinked awake and froze, his jaw dropping at the sight of the kimono-clad women.

I stepped out, briefcase in hand, and the ladies bowed deeply.

"Okaerinasai, Rōgan-sama."

I returned the gesture with a polite bow. They ushered me inside, guiding me through the tatami-floored hall. I removed my shoes and slid into a pair of home slippers before being led to my room.

Typical Japanese decor—minimal, precise. I set my luggage down in the corner as one of them gestured to the bathroom.

I glanced back at Kei, who was still looking bashful, surrounded by the female staff. They treated him like a husband coming home from war. Poor guy. Hopefully he’d get real rest for once.

After my bath, they escorted me to the dining room. A full traditional meal awaited, steaming and aromatic. But that wasn’t all—Mr. Kirishima himself appeared, flanked by a few women from his club. I smiled. It looked like I didn’t need to visit the club tonight after all.

Kei fidgeted nervously beside me. I chuckled, sipping my sake as his ears turned crimson.

Keiko—the woman who always personally attended to me—rested a hand on my shoulder. Her perfume was intoxicating.

"Be ready for me, my dear," I murmured, smiling up at her.

Kei nearly choked on his drink, his face bright red. Keiko leaned down, her lips brushing my cheek before she turned and disappeared toward my room. The other two women teasing Kei followed suit, each kissing his cheeks before leaving him flustered and speechless.

Mr. Kirishima joined us then, clearing his throat.

"Logan," he began. "How’s the White Queen? I heard about the blessing. We’re preparing gifts for the little one."

"The White Queen’s doing well," I replied calmly. "But I should warn you—I’m currently under surveillance by agents from at least three powerful nations."

"I see." He nodded slowly. "Don’t worry, Logan. We’ll handle it. Quietly."

"No need to raise your katana, Kirishima-san. The White Queen wants to keep things low-profile."

"Understood."

I stood and bowed slightly. Then I clapped Kei on the shoulder.

"Enjoy the girls, Kei. They’ll take good care of you."

He flushed scarlet. The poor scientist probably hadn’t touched a woman in years.

I drained my glass, excused myself, and brushed my teeth before heading to my room.

Sliding the door open, I found Keiko already waiting—lying sideways on the futon, her D-cup chest rising softly with her breath. The air was thick with the scent of the aphrodisiac candle melting under the lamp’s warmth.

She took a slow sip of sake, then poured another into a single cup—my cup.

And she smiled.

"Ore no tame ni junbi dekiteru kai, baby? Ore no tame ni nureru hodo moteteru?"

(Are you ready for me, baby? Are you so turned on that you’re wet for me?)

My voice came out low, ragged—deep enough to make her gasp. Keiko always reacted beautifully to that tone. That’s what I liked about her. She didn’t hide behind politeness or hesitation. She surrendered, body and soul. I liked women who met my fire with their own. If she didn’t fall apart in my arms, I’d take it as a personal failure.

"Keiko," I murmured, tilting her chin with my thumb, sliding my fingers through her thick hair and gripping gently at the back of her head. Her eyes flickered up, wide and wanting. When I lowered my face, our mouths met—slow, deliberate. She breathed into me, and I caught her air like a secret.

Her warmth pressed against me, her breath trembling as I let my hands roam over her body, tracing the rhythm of her heartbeat through silk and skin. Every movement, every sound, every shiver—like a language only we spoke.

The faint scent of her perfume mixed with the lingering sake in the air. I could feel the pulse of her need through my fingertips. She knew how to match me. Her movements always carried precision and grace, as if our bodies were negotiating terms we’d long agreed upon.

When she held my shaft with both hands, her mouth watered

Then—my phone buzzed. Persistent. I ignored it at first. But it rang again.

I sighed and reached for it, frowning at the name flashing across the screen: Deanne.

"Turn around," I said softly. My tone left no room for refusal.

Keiko obeyed, slipping out of her robe with quiet confidence. Her skin gleamed faintly under the candlelight, shadows moving like smoke across her curves. I steadied my breathing, pressing a hand to her back. Her glorious butt was hanging up as I spread her legs a little and finally slid into her, sharp, hard and deep, before answering the call.

"Yes, De?" My voice stayed calm, smooth, betraying nothing as I please my woman.

"Logan, you’re the speaker. Livana’s here."

"Hey, Liv," I said, half-smiling, keeping my composure.

"Logan, are you in the villa right now?"

"Yes."

I leaned back, eyes drifting to the candle’s flame, its flicker reflecting against Keiko’s silhouette.

"Listen," Livana’s voice was sharp but playful, "make sure Kei stays focused. We can’t miss any details this time."

A quiet sound escaped Keiko—half sigh, half gasp. Livana paused on the other end. The sound of our flesh was faint but Keiko...just couldn’t help herself.

"Are you—busy?" she asked, amusement lacing her tone.

"You called at the wrong time, Livy," I said lazily, smiling to myself. "But go on."

From the other room, muffled laughter echoed—female voices mingling with Kei’s groan of exhaustion. I chuckled under my breath.

"Seems Kei’s getting his fair share of motivation tonight," I added dryly.

Livana ignored my teasing. "Once Kei’s refreshed, tell the team he’ll take over. The female scientists will handle the next phase—I don’t want any men touching the subject." Livana continuously explained as I reached the vibrator and slid it between Keiko’s leg where her little nub would be receiving that pleasure. "Also, there should be no male around while testing the subject."

"Got it," I said, a smirk tugging at my lips as Keiko rested her head against my lap, her hair falling like a curtain of black silk. "I’ll be staying in Japan for a few weeks. Anything else you girls need?"

"Sex toys!" Sophia shouted in the background, followed by a chorus of laughter — the timing almost poetic, syncing with the sharp gasp that escaped Keiko’s lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh with them. Sophia and Deanne kept chattering in the background about Japan’s more... daring innovations, their playful tones cutting through the haze of candlelight. Their laughter mixed with Keiko’s quiet sighs, the contrast so absurd it was almost entertaining.

"And Logan," Livana added, her voice dipping softer now. "Bring me a premium matcha. From the farm itself."

"Got it," I said, my tone playful but fond. "Message me your list. I’ll make sure it’s handled."

"Enjoy," Deanne giggled before the call ended. Keiko pulled away as she climbed to my lap to take my precious to her mouth.

I tossed the phone aside and exhaled. The candlelight shimmered, catching the glint of sweat on my neck. Keiko looked up at me, waiting.

"Do you want more, Keiko?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, master," she whispered, her accent sweet and shy—an edge of innocence that almost made me lose my composure.

From the next room came another burst of laughter, followed by Kei’s faint exhale of surrender. Poor guy. Those girls wouldn’t let him sleep tonight.

I leaned back, letting the moment stretch, letting Keiko take her pace this time. The night blurred between warmth and sake, the soft light of Tokyo bleeding through the shoji doors.

And yet—when I looked down at her face, for a fleeting second, I saw someone else.

Someone who shouldn’t be there.

Jane.

No. That’s impossible.

I rubbed my temple, blinking hard. The illusion faded, but the unease didn’t. Something was off—too off for comfort.

Something’s wrong with my mind.