A Villain's Journey Begins in the Type-Moon World

Therefore, even though Wang Chong rejected her several times, Medea still placed her hopes on the man in front of her.

Moreover, since agreeing to do something in exchange for food, perhaps seeking help could also be done in exchange for the same price.

“I would like to help you… but don’t forget, my power to perform precise manipulations was sealed away along with yours.” Wang Chong spread his hands, looking rather helpless. “I can’t possibly use brute force, enough to shatter Hercules’ heart, to remove this little thorn from you, can I?”

"This……"

Medea was stunned. This time, it wasn't a refusal, but a genuine inability to help. A sense of despair overwhelmed her like a cold tide.

“But I can’t break that seal either… Waaah… What should I do… Ugh…” The excruciating pain in her throat made Medea barely able to utter a complete sentence; each attempt to speak was accompanied by painful gagging.

Seeing her in such pain, Wang Chong put away his casual expression and adopted a serious tone: "Well then, if you trust me, I do have another way."

"Method...? What... ugh... what method?" Medea suppressed the urge to vomit, clutching her throat, her voice hoarse.

“Although the magic and black mist power have been sealed, my precise control over my body has not diminished in the slightest,” Wang Chong said, his sharp gaze sweeping across the air. “Watch closely.”

The words had barely left his mouth when his arm shot out like lightning, his index and middle fingers clamping down with pinpoint precision in mid-air—

"Snapped."

He easily caught a high-speed flying insect between his fingers, its wings still trembling slightly.

"I am quite confident in my control over my fingers."

Wang Chong loosened his grip, letting the insect fall to the ground, and continued:

"So, the solution is simple: I'll use my hand to reach down your throat, find the thorn, and pull it out."

Wang Chong raised his two long, strong fingers, which were clearly visible in the firelight, and asked, "Well? If you're willing, we can begin now."

"Wh...what?" Upon hearing that the other party was going to stick their fingers deep into her throat, Medea's cheeks instantly flushed red, and a strong sense of shame surged up.

However, the sharp pain in her throat instantly overwhelmed all her shyness. Medea gasped for breath and asked with difficulty, "Are you...are you sure you can...cough...get it out?"

“I can’t say I’m absolutely certain,” Wang Chong said calmly, “but it’s better than you suffering here. Don’t worry, I’ll be like the most cautious doctor, taking it slow and not doing anything reckless.”

Wang Chong's voice at that moment carried a strange, reassuring power amidst its earnestness. Hearing his calm words, Medea had no choice but to place her trust in him.

Medea closed her eyes, resignedly nodded, and replied in a barely audible whisper, "Alright...then...come on..."

After receiving permission, Wang Chong pulled a burning stick from the burning campfire, the flames leaping merrily on it.

"Sit up straight, lift your head, and open your mouth as wide as possible. I'll use the firelight to see where the spike is stuck." Wang Chong's instructions were concise and clear, exuding an unquestionable sense of professionalism.

Seeing Wang Chong so focused on the matter, Medea's panicked heart calmed down a little. She sat up straight as instructed, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth as wide as possible.

Wang Chong gently pinched her chin with his warm left hand to fix the angle, while his other hand held a burning wooden stick close to her mouth, carefully probing inside.

The leaping flames brought a scorching heat wave, making her cheeks burn, and fine beads of sweat immediately seeped from her forehead and the tip of her nose.

Time seemed to stand still. The pain in her throat, the burning in her cheeks, and the muscle soreness from keeping her mouth open for so long—all these discomforts combined to make Medea feel like every second was an eternity.

"Why isn't it ready yet..." Medea thought anxiously, but dared not move an inch.

"Tsk... This won't work..." Finally, Wang Chong moved the fire source away, letting out a troubled tsk, his brows furrowed.

"Wh...what's wrong?" Seeing his solemn expression, Medea's heart sank, and an ominous premonition came over her.

"The thorn is stuck too deep; the firelight can only illuminate the throat near the mouth, not any deeper inside."

Wang Chong's expression turned unusually serious, his gaze fixed on her eyes, which were slightly widened with fear.

"To remove it, I'll have to insert my fingers and slowly locate it." Wang Chong paused, then asked again to confirm, "Do you... still want to continue?"

Chapter 517 Removing the Thorn (Part 2)

"Ugh!" Imagining those rough fingers about to explore deep into her most vulnerable and sensitive throat, Medea instinctively felt a strong sense of discomfort and fear, and her body trembled slightly.

However, the persistent, knife-like pain in his throat crushed all hesitation.

"Please...please...continue..." Medea pleaded almost in tears, resignedly closing her eyes again, tilting her head back even higher, her red lips slightly parted, adopting an attitude of complete submission.

Looking at her completely trusting yet vulnerable appearance, a barely perceptible, almost triumphant glint of mockery flashed deep in Wang Chong's eyes, but Medea, who had closed her eyes and given up resisting, was completely unaware of it.

“Medea…I’m coming in.” Wang Chong leaned down and deliberately uttered these ambiguous words in a low, slightly hoarse voice near her sensitive ear.

The warm breath sprayed onto Medea's earlobes, instantly making her ears and cheeks blush almost to the point of bleeding.

However, before she could react, two calloused, slightly rough fingers, with an irresistible force, steadily probed into her warm, moist mouth and precisely pressed against her soft, sensitive tongue.

"Ha...haa..." The sudden, overwhelming sense of foreign intrusion, carrying an air of absolute control, made Medea stiffen, and she began to gasp for breath.

Warm and carrying her unique fragrance, with each tense breath, it sprayed onto Wang Chong's wrist, bringing waves of tingling, strange sensations.

Medea felt her mind go blank. The calloused fingertips pressed and caressed her soft tongue, bringing a stimulation she had never experienced before, a mixture of intense shame and a strange electric current.

She tried to clench her teeth, but dared not, and could only passively endure this deep and intimate violation.

"Okay, hold your breath, I'm going to go deeper." Wang Chong steadily supported her chin with his left hand, while his right fingers began to slowly and firmly advance along the slippery back wall of her mouth, towards the deeper passage of her throat.

I could clearly feel the spasmodic contractions in her throat muscles caused by tension and the sensation of something in her throat.

"Ugh...!" When the fingers actually touched the narrow entrance to her throat, a strong physiological rejection reaction caused Medea to arch her back violently, her stomach churning, and she painfully dry-heaved, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"Hold on! If you don't want all your efforts to be wasted, then hold it in! Nod when you hear me!" Wang Chong's voice was stern and commanding, but his fingers did not stop exploring.

Medea suppressed her nausea, nodded desperately through her tears, and let out a muffled moan from deep within her throat as she tried to hold it in.

Now that things had come to this, no matter how shameful, embarrassing, painful, or uncomfortable Medea could only surrender herself completely to the other man, letting that finger do whatever it wanted to her most vulnerable spot.

Wang Chong felt her body trembling and her desperate compliance, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips. His fingers continued to explore deeper, the wet, warm, and tight inner walls of her throat tightly enveloping his knuckles, bringing a strange and thrilling sensation.

Wang Chong murmured to himself, "Heh, it's more resilient than I imagined... It's a good start that it's gotten used to accommodating my fingers so quickly... No rush, there's plenty of time to 'teach' it slowly..."

In fact, although his power of ruin and magic were sealed, his all-knowing World Stand was not affected.

Therefore, the Stand's internal vision had already revealed the precise location of the fishbone. His fingertips were now only millimeters away from the fishbone, and he could easily remove it at any moment.

But Wang Chong was not in a hurry. Instead, as if he were really groping in the dark, he deliberately used his fingertips to scrape, press, and circle on Medea's unusually sensitive throat wall in an extremely slow and subtle way.

"Mmm...uh..." An indescribable, strange sensation, a mixture of intense tingling and a slight stinging, rose from his throat with the persistent, unpleasant friction. What about you? Lin Meikong, are you Lin Zaizai there yet...?

Medea's body trembled slightly uncontrollably, and broken sobs escaped from her throat.

She desperately tried to cough, wanting to drive away the intruder that brought her this strange, itchy sensation, but she remembered Wang Chong's warning and could only suppress the urge with all her might.

Her slender fingers gripped the fabric beneath her tightly, her knuckles turning white from the excessive force.

The process of enduring was painful and long. Medea's fair face flushed red, and fine beads of sweat mingled with her tears on her forehead and the tip of her nose.

What made her even more ashamed was that, due to the continuous stimulation from the foreign object, a large amount of saliva was uncontrollably secreted in her mouth. Unable to swallow it, it could only overflow from the corners of her tightly closed mouth, forming several shiny silver threads that dripped onto the front of her clothes.

"I will never... I will never eat fish like this again..." She closed her eyes tightly, regret and shame intertwined, and tears streamed down her face. This experience of choking on a fishbone had undoubtedly left an indelible mark on her heart.

Seeing that he had teased her enough and Medea was holding her breath to the limit, Wang Chong stopped delaying. His nimble fingertips precisely pinched the tiny fishbone, his voice carrying a hint of relief as if he had accomplished his task: "Alright, got it. Just a little longer, I'm coming out."

As soon as he finished speaking, he swiftly and deftly pulled his fingers outward—

"Ah—ha!!"

With a long, relieved gasp and heavy breathing, Medea finally expelled the foreign object that had tormented her for so long.

She bent over suddenly as if all her strength had been drained, greedily inhaling the fresh air. The stinging and blockage deep in her throat finally disappeared, leaving only the burning pain from the scraping.

"Tsk tsk, look at that, it's really quite dangerous."

Wang Chong showed Medea the long, thin, sharp fishbone that was stuck between his fingers, his tone tinged with lingering fear:

"It's so long, if it's in a tricky spot, or if you swallow too hard, it could really puncture a blood vessel."

Medea looked up with lingering fear and saw that the fishbone was about half the length of Wang Chong's finger, its tip gleaming coldly. She couldn't help but feel a chill of fear.

However, as Medea saw the thorn, her gaze involuntarily fell on Wang Chong's two fingers, which were covered in her glistening saliva.

There was even a wisp of viscous silver thread slowly dripping from his fingertips, shimmering with an ambiguous luster in the firelight, almost dripping onto the dust.

Those fingers... were covered in her... scent...

An indescribable, intense sense of shame and immorality instantly overwhelmed Medea.

Although it's an emergency to act expediently, allowing a strange man's fingers to penetrate so deeply into my throat and become stained with my own intimate bodily fluids...

Even her future husband, Jason, had never done such a thing! The thought made her cheeks burn and her mind race, as if she had committed some unforgivable betrayal.

"How are you feeling now?" Wang Chong asked when Medea remained silent for a while.

"Hmm? Oh..."

Upon hearing Wang Chong's voice, Medea snapped out of her daze, quickly gathered her jumbled thoughts, and began to swallow a few times, her delicate brows furrowing slightly.

"Ugh, it feels... like something is scraping... it hurts a bit, it's not as blocked anymore, but there's still an odd feeling," Medea said, frowning.

"That's a fishbone scraping the back of your throat; the wound is still inflamed and swollen. Eat something soft, and it'll be fine in a while."

Wang Chong explained, then his gaze fell on the half-eaten grilled fish covered in dirt on the ground, and he clicked his tongue lightly, saying:

"What a waste of this fish... Oh well, when I was building my cabin in the woods over there, I picked some wild berries and left them inside. You can have those to tide you over tonight."

Wang Chong pointed to a simple wooden house not far away.

"And what about you...?" Medea asked instinctively, her voice still hoarse.

"I?"

A meaningful, even slightly sinister smile appeared on Wang Chong's lips. His gaze slowly swept over Medea, as if assessing a precious prey.

“Didn’t we agree on this? You promised to do anything in exchange for a good meal. Besides…” Wang Chong shook the finger that had just gone deep into her throat, his smile deepening, “Now, you also owe me an extra favor for ‘removing the thorn’.”

"So, what I'm going to do next is prepare something... that requires you to keep your promise. How about it? Excited?"

Wang Chong's voice deepened, carrying an undeniable sense of control. The profound light in his eyes made Medea's heart tighten, and a strong sense of unease arose spontaneously.

Chapter 518 Washing Feet (Part 1)

Inside the cabin, the embers of the campfire cast flickering, dim light through the cracks in the simple door and walls, dividing the narrow space into fragments of light and shadow.

The damp smell of wood mingled with the salty, fishy scent of the sea, lingering in the air. Medea, hugging her knees, curled up in a corner; the last vestiges of warmth from the berries in her stomach had long since been frozen by Wang Chong's final, meaningful gaze and words.

"You're looking forward to the thing that requires you to keep your promise, aren't you?"

Those words, like a cold, venomous snake, coiled around her heart, each heartbeat bringing a tightening panic. What did he want from her? What despicable demands would that devilish man make?

The strange sensation lingering deep in his throat from the rough fingers' forceful exploration had not yet completely dissipated, but now it became even more vivid and burning due to the unknown fear.

She could even recall the friction of his calloused fingertips, and the pathetic sobs she uttered when she was forced to swallow... Shame washed over her crumbling dignity wave after wave.

Now, in exchange for half a fish and a few berries, what kind of situation has she put herself in?

Just as she was lost in thought and almost consumed by her fear, the simple door of the cabin, which was barely held together by vines, creaked open.

Wang Chong's tall figure blocked the doorway, his back to the deep, dark night outside. The shadow he cast instantly enveloped the already dim light inside the room, bringing a suffocating sense of oppression.

He was carrying a "bucket" made of large pieces of bark that had been simply bent and tied together. The bucket was half full of water, and a few wisps of steam were still floating on the surface.

“The time has come, Medea.” Wang Chong’s voice was calm and emotionless, yet it terrified Medea more than any threat. He entered, closing the door behind him and cutting off the last glimmer of light from the outside world. The room grew even darker, with only the embers of the campfire near the corner providing limited illumination.

He placed the simple wooden bucket on the relatively flat ground in the center of the room, making a dull "thump." The water rippled, reflecting the dark red embers, like some kind of ominous premonition.

Medea's heart leaped into her throat. She hugged her arms tightly, her nails almost digging into her flesh. Her blue eyes flickered with suspicion and uncertainty in the dim light as she stared intently at Wang Chong and the bucket on the ground.

Wang Chong didn't look at her. He walked to the only slightly larger, flat log in the room that served as a stool and sat down. He stretched, making a slight cracking sound, and then, under Medea's horrified gaze, slowly took off his simple leather boots, which were covered in sand and grass clippings.

A pungent smell, a mixture of sweat, dust, and leather, filled the small, enclosed space. It wasn't pleasant, but it unmistakably signaled the impending action. Medea instinctively held her breath, her stomach churning.

Then, Wang Chong rolled up his trouser legs, revealing his muscular calves and a pair of feet with distinct knuckles, also covered in mud. He casually placed his feet on the cold, rough ground.

"The water is a little hot, just right." He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps giving Medea a final instruction. His gaze finally turned to the girl curled up in the corner. "Come here and keep your promise."

A promise… an empty vow forced upon her in the throes of extreme hunger and despair, a promise made solely for survival. Medea's body trembled violently, her lips quivering, yet no sound came out. To… touch that man's feet? As the noble princess of Colchis, a descendant of the sun god, how could she have imagined she would be reduced to such a lowly state? This was more humiliating than death!

"What?" A subtle, cold smile curled at the corner of Wang Chong's lips, carrying an all-knowing mockery. "You were willing to lower your dignity and beg for half a fish during the day, but now that you're full and have the energy, you want to go back on your word? So Princess Colkis's promises are so cheap?"

“I…” Medea wanted to protest, to scream and say no, but the word “go back on your word” lashed at her face like a whip. She had indeed agreed. Faced with the threat to her survival, she had relinquished her right to resist. A deeper despair gripped her, a chilling despair more terrifying than hunger, a despair that nailed her soul to the pillar of shame.

“I said, you only get one chance. Either come over now and do what you promised; or…” Wang Chong’s voice suddenly turned cold, like a biting wind from the Arctic, “get out of here and guard your ‘dignity’ to fend for yourself in the night on this deserted island. Remember, I will not give you any more food or water.”

He paused, his gaze sharp as a knife as he pierced Medea's pale face: "The seal within you makes you more vulnerable than ordinary people. Hunger, thirst, the cold of the night, poisonous insects in the forest... how many days do you think you can endure? Or do you think drowning in the sea and being devoured by a school of fish is a better end than this?"

Every word struck Medea's deepest fears with pinpoint accuracy. The instinct for survival, like the most powerful curse, crushed the last shred of pride she tried to maintain. She remembered the near-death experience of having a fishbone stuck in her throat earlier that day; that pain and fear instantly overwhelmed all shame.

“…I’ll do it.” The two words were squeezed out with difficulty from her clenched teeth, with a heavy nasal tone and uncontrollable trembling, so soft that they were almost drowned out by the crackling sound of the burning firewood.

Like a soulless puppet, she stiffly and extremely slowly crawled up from the haystack. Her legs felt like they were filled with lead, each step so heavy it suffocated her. The short distance felt like crossing a mountain of knives and a sea of ​​fire.

Finally, she stood before the makeshift wooden bucket and Wang Chong. A strong, masculine scent, mixed with the smell of sweaty feet and dust, hit her, making her dizzy and her stomach clench violently again. She didn't even dare to look down at those bare feet so close to her.

"Kneel down." Wang Chong's command was concise, cold, and left no room for argument.