Jonas was caught between pain and pleasure.
The pleasure came from waves of delight that washed over his soul, overlapping like ripples, alternating between shallow and deep, moist and warm.
Combined with the hot breaths spilling from his nose, they left Jonas torn between wanting to break free and being unwilling to let go.
To obtain materials for leveling up her character, Miss Nightingale had practiced diligently. She had mastered the entire process of pulling monsters, drawing aggro, and choosing the right moment to strike their weak points.
Even Jonas, who had crossed swords with her dozens of times, had to admit that Nora was practically unrivaled in this regard.
As for the pain, Iris was sitting on his lap and working without a care in the world. The soft touch of her snow-white skin, once a delight, had now become torture.
Jonas could not move freely, adjust his posture, or even let out a heavy breath.
The slightest unusual movement would alert the young Psionic before him, and Jonas Weiyan's reputation would be ruined.
The girl on his lap was working earnestly, while he, serving as her chair, could only grit his teeth and endure. The scene carried a strange sense of taboo, like that of an unfaithful wife.
Except...
Why the fuck am I the wife?
Jonas gently closed his eyes and mentally added another mark to Nightingale's account.
A Spatial Psionic, huh? Once this mission is over, I'll make sure you experience this humiliation next time!
Every last bit of it!
Miss Nightingale, still hard at work in the next room, had no idea what consequences this little maneuver, tinged with jealousy, would bring upon her in the near future.
"Mr. Jonas, are you feeling unwell?"
The perceptive girl turned slightly, angling half her face toward