Chapter 87- Sir Raven... will teach you everything?

Raven emerged from a different exit, his hands in his pockets, his expression calm and unbothered.

The coffee shop Hana had mentioned was on the second floor, near the central atrium. He could see it from here—modern design, glass walls, trendy furniture.

And there, seated at a small table near the window, were two women.

One was Hana. Still wearing Min-jung’s too-tight clothes, still with that black black laced mask wrapped around her face like a mask. Her thick body looked compressed and awkward in the outfit, her massive tits creating obvious bumps in the stretched hoodie fabric.

The other woman was younger. Early thirties, maybe. Professional-looking, with her hair pulled back in a neat bun. She wore a simple blouse and skirt, the kind of outfit designed to look respectable and put-together.

Yuna.

Raven had seen her briefly when he’d been scouting earlier. The girlfriend of that meathead footballer Gareth. The one Hana was supposed to seduce and deliver to him.

He watched as Hana leaned forward, clearly talking intensely. Her hands were animated, gesturing as she spoke. Yuna was listening, her expression conflicted—curious and uncomfortable at the same time.

Yuna’s fingers were trembling. She kept looking around nervously, like she was afraid someone would see her having this conversation.

Raven smirked and started walking toward the coffee shop.

Inside the shop, Hana was in the middle of her pitch. Her voice was low, urgent, barely audible over the ambient noise of the café.

"—and I’m telling you, if you’re not satisfied, if your relationship feels empty, then maybe it’s time to experience something real. Something that makes you feel alive instead of just... going through the motions."

Yuna bit her lip, her face flushed. "I don’t know. This is crazy. I shouldn’t even be listening to this. Gareth would—"

"Gareth doesn’t make you cum, does he?" Hana said bluntly.

Yuna flinched like she’d been slapped. Her face went nuclear red, but she didn’t deny it.

"He’s a good guy," Yuna whispered, her voice shaking. "He’s just... focused on his career. The football tournament is coming up and—"

"You’re making excuses for him," Hana interrupted gently. "And you don’t even realize it."

Yuna’s eyes filled with tears. She looked down at her coffee cup, her fingers wrapped around it so tightly her knuckles were white.

Before she could respond, a shadow fell over their table.

Both women looked up.

Raven stood there, holding a coffee cup he’d just grabbed from the counter. His purple eyes swept over both of them—taking in Hana’s desperate, masked face, Yuna’s shocked and tear-streaked expression.

He set his coffee down on their table and pulled out the third chair, sitting down smoothly like he’d been invited.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice casual and friendly.

Hana’s entire body went rigid. Her eyes—visible above the mask—widened in panic.

No. No no no. She just barely got Yuna comfortable enough to talk. If he shows up now, if Yuna sees him, she’ll—

But Yuna was already staring at Raven, her mouth slightly open. Her eyes were wide, taking in his perfect features, his confident posture, the way he seemed to command the space around him just by existing.

Hana wanted to scream. Wanted to grab Yuna and run. But she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

"Your daughter’s already left," Raven said calmly, his eyes on Hana. "You don’t need to hide your face anymore."

Daughter?

Yuna’s head snapped to Hana, confusion written all over her expression.

Hana’s hands trembled. Slowly—so slowly—she reached up and pulled the black laced mask off her face.

Her features were revealed. Tear-streaked. Flushed. Desperate.

And beautiful. Despite everything, despite the abuse and the degradation, Hana’s face still held that mature, maternal beauty. The kind that came from years of life experience, from suffering and surviving.

Yuna stared at her, recognition dawning. "Wait. You’re—you said you have a boyfriend—"

"She’s exactly who she said she was," Raven interrupted smoothly. "A woman who knows what real pleasure feels like."

He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, and his hand moved casually—landing on Hana’s thigh under the table.

Hana flinched violently, her eyes flying to his. Her mouth opened to protest—

But his hand slid higher. Past the hem of the too-tight jeans. His fingers pressed against her crotch, right over the wet patch that had been growing all morning.

BZZZZ BZZZZ

The vibrator in her pussy buzzed against his palm through the fabric.

"Hnnngh—" The sound escaped Hana’s throat before she could stop it. Her eyes rolled back slightly, her body trembling.

Yuna’s eyes went wide. "W-wait—"

Hana tried to speak. Tried to explain. But Raven’s fingers pressed harder, finding her clit through the layers of fabric and rubbing in slow, deliberate circles.

Her hips jerked forward involuntarily, grinding against his hand. Her massive tits heaved as she gasped for air.

"Did she showed you her gifts," Raven explained conversationally to Yuna, like he was discussing the weather. "I personally liked when she wore them herself."

Yuna looked between them—at Raven’s calm, amused expression, at Hana’s desperate, trembling face—and something shifted in her expression.

The confusion melted away. The nervousness faded.

And in its place came something else. Something hungry. Curious. Desperate.

"Tell me," Yuna whispered, her voice barely audible. "Tell me how you—"

Hana couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure, the humiliation, the constant stimulation—it was too much.

Her hand shot out under the table, grabbing Raven’s wrist. But instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer. Pressed his hand harder against her crotch.

She looked at Yuna with wild, desperate eyes and gasped out, "Meet him. This man. He’s—" Her voice broke. "He’s the man who can make a woman feel like one."

The words came out raw and honest. Not rehearsed. Not manipulated. Just the broken truth of a woman who’d been completely destroyed and remade.

Yuna stared at her for a long moment. Then her gaze slid to Raven—to his perfect features, his confident smirk, the obvious power radiating from him.

Her breathing quickened. Her pupils dilated. Her lips trembled.

Slowly, trembling, Yuna stood up from her chair.

And then—right there in the middle of the busy coffee shop—she gave a small, formal bow toward Raven.

"I hope you’ll teach me well," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Sir Raven."

Raven’s smile widened into something dark and victorious.

"Oh," he purred, his hand still pressed against Hana’s buzzing, soaking crotch. "I’ll teach you everything."

"R-Really?", Yuna lifted her head slowly, feeling confused and slightly embarrassed as she saw him being too intimate with his wife or girlfriend, or whoever this auntie was to him.

Yuna was puzzled about how this handsome, model-like man could be with this woman, especially since she had never seen such a handsome man in person before.

With his sharp cheekbones, flawless complexion, smooth skin, and eyes that sometimes appeared dark and sometimes purple, he seemed like a living glitch.

"Indeed." Raven, however, observed her expression as he slowly but mildly released his pheromones to chemically induce her body while he stretched his hand and took hers for a handshake.

The way his thumb rubbed her palm was such that she was clearly surprised, and Yuna felt something strange.

Her whole body seemed to tingle as her heartbeat slightly increased. She blinked before shaking her head, feeling as if she were standing in front of her crush.

And for Raven, he saw a pop up.

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