The Quest Is Simply To NTR All The Heroes

Chapter 255: Half a Man



"Alright, fine..."

July finally gave in, her smile so fake it could've been slapped on with a paintbrush.

She knew this was her only shot to get out of this mess, but Lenon? Oh, he was in his own little fantasyland, thinking she was all into him, practically prancing like he'd just hit the jackpot.

She leaned in, wrapping her lips around Lenon's pathetic, wrinkled cock. For a second, he looked like he'd ascended to some divine plane, eyes rolling back like he'd just tasted heaven's buffet.

But his blissful daydream was about to become a nightmare.

Without warning, July's teeth clamped down like a bear trap on a sausage.

Lenon's eyes shot open in sheer terror, and the noise he made?

It was less a scream and more of a high-pitched, soul-leaving-the-body wail, like a banshee with laryngitis. July didn't just bite—she took the whole damn thing. Clean off.

Lenon hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, clutching the bloody remains of what was once his "pride," sobbing and flailing like a toddler who just watched their ice cream fall face down in the dirt.

July spat in his face, the look on hers saying, "You're not even worth the spit."

"Rot in hell, you worm-infested sack of shit."

Then, with the elegance of someone taking out the trash, she delivered a swift kick to his face, sending him sprawling on the floor, cradling what was left of his manhood while sobbing uncontrollably.

In all his hundred years of sleaze, Lenon never imagined this would be his fate—reduced to a groaning, broken old pervert by a woman who made him regret every pervy thought he'd ever had.

"Seriously, you pathetic excuse for a villain, I've been waiting ages for this moment."

July sneered, wiping her mouth like she'd just tasted something worse than roadkill.

"Had to put your shriveled, sad little dick in my mouth, but oh baby, was it worth it just to see you look like a complete idiot."

She crouched down and grabbed Lenon by his floppy old ears, yanking him up as he whimpered and squirmed like a squashed bug. The ancient creep was at her mercy now, completely helpless, and the sight made her grin with savage delight.

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"You stupid motherfucker," she spat, her words dripping with venom.

"You slaughtered my entire family, and now I'm turning your wrinkled ass into a souvenir."

With a gleeful snarl, she spat right in his horrified face, watching as his dignity melted faster than his pride ever could. Then, without warning, she slapped him so hard his jowls wobbled like jelly on a rollercoaster.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

She treated his face like her personal stress ball, each smack echoing louder than the last, sending Lenon reeling with every hit. It was like she was getting catharsis one slap at a time, his crumpled face taking each blow like a bad punchline to a joke no one wanted to hear.

"How's that for a fucking plot twist, you wrinkled dumpster fire?"

July laughed, her hands stinging but her rage finally finding its sweet release. She gave him one last, bone-rattling slap for good measure, his body flopping around like a ragdoll in a hurricane.

July paused mid-strut, glancing back at Lenon with a devilish smirk plastered across her face. She planted one hand on her hip, popping it out in a way that made her curves look like they were carved out of pure sex appeal.

"I'm taking this littlesouvenirwith me."

"I'm taking this little

souvenir

with me."

Slowly, like she was putting on a show just for the old perv's last working neuron, she bent over, making sure her leather shorts stretched snug around her perfectly round ass.

The way her muscles flexed beneath the material, and how her fluffy tail wagged back and forth, would've made Lenon's cock twitch—if it wasn't, you know, lying in the dirt like a discarded sausage.

With a swift move, she scooped up his severed cock like she was grabbing the last hot dog at a barbecue. Without hesitation, she slid it into her shorts, patting it in place like it belonged there.

"Don't worry, old man. I'll keep it warm for ya."

She cooed, giving him one last sultry glance that would've left any other man drooling. But Lenon? Nah, all he could do was groan in humiliation, his face contorting in a mix of pain and disbelief.

As July sauntered away, feeling like a goddamn queen, she heard someone stumbling behind her. She turned to see Jacky barreling toward her, his caveman face twisted in confusion and concern.

The guy had the brainpower of a potato, but evenheknew something wild just went down.

The guy had the brainpower of a potato, but even

he

knew something wild just went down.

July rolled her eyes as she heard Jacky trying to piece together a coherent thought.

"Are you—?"

"Yes, I'm fine, you dim-witted dog."

She snapped, giving him a condescending pat on the chest, like he was a lost puppy.

"I don't need a man's help to do anything, least of all get away from this circus of a situation. I've got this covered. Thanks for nothing."

She strutted away, hips swaying like she was walking a damn runway.

Jacky, still processing what just happened, glanced between her disappearing figure and the sorry sight of Lenon, who was lying there like a deflated party balloon. His once-pristine white robe was now a canvas of gore, with his severed cock hanging out like a sad party favor no one asked for.

Jacky's eyes landed on the grotesque sight, and something in him just snapped. What started as a little snicker quickly escalated into a full-blown laugh—like he just heard the funniest joke of his life.

Lenon, on the other hand, was not having it. His face twisted into a red-hot mask of fury as he hissed through gritted teeth,

"I'm going to kill you, you pathetic dumb fuck! And I'llfuckthat bitch right in front of you!"

"I'm going to kill you, you pathetic dumb fuck! And I'll

fuck

that bitch right in front of you!"

Jacky wiped away a tear, still wheezing with laughter.

"With what, grandpa? Your dick's about as threatening as a limp noodle now. What are you gonna do, huh? Wave your bloody stump around and hope for the best?"

He doubled over, cackling.

"You're just a half-man now! And not even the good half—just an old, shriveled-up, nutless sack of regret."

Jacky's cackling echoed as he swaggered over to Lenon's pitiful form, looming like a lion about to play with its prey.

He raised his hands over the sad remains of Lenon's severed cock, and for a second, Lenon braced himself for more pain. His shriveled body tensed, waiting for Jacky to stomp on whatever dignity he had left.

But instead, Jacky's face morphed into something... playfully sinister.

The blood that had been gushing out of Lenon's junk like a faucet suddenly stopped.

For a brief moment, Lenon felt the absence of pain, a flicker of relief. It was like life had thrown him a bone—but Jacky wasn't that generous.

"Oh no, old man, I'm not here to patch you up. Think of this as a parting gift from the universe."

Jacky smirked, twirling his fingers as if controlling Lenon's blood like some sick magician. The gore coagulated in an instant, forming a gnarly scab right where Lenon's once proud cock severed in half.

The old cat groaned as he pushed himself up, his hands shaking, and shuffled away, his mangled crotch no longer dripping, but no less pathetic. Jacky watched him with a shit-eating grin, hands on his hips.

"Remember this, grandpa," Jacky called out. "Next time you're chasing some young tail, just think—one wrong move, and you might end up as less than half a man again. You've only got so many parts left to lose."

Lenon didn't bother turning around. He was too consumed with one thought: July. That devious, wicked, beautiful bitch. He'd underestimated her, and now, he was walking proof of her cruelty.

...

On another front, Kaisen was having a blast, literally. He had just knocked out four of the ancient, wrinkled-ass elders like it was child's play.

What was his secret weapon? Well, his current level was high enough that these old farts—who were probably pushing level 1000—could barely detect him.

They could sense something, like a distant fart in the wind, but nothing concrete. However, he knew if they got a whiff of his real power, they'd figure out he was the one causing all the chaos around the village.

And he wasn't about to let a bunch of geriatric grandpas ruin his fun.

Kaisen wasn't looking for a messy brawl or a grand showdown—no, no, he wanted this mission to be smooth as butter. No hiccups, no one asking, "Who the fuck just wrecked our village?"

So, what did he do? He pulled out his ultimate trump card.

If they could barely sense him at his current power level, why not just double that shit and become completely undetectable?

Now, only one hurdle stood between Kaisen and his grand triumph as a hero—Elder Nora, the village's beloved little grandma.


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