A win either way

In the middle of the night, Ririko was jolted out of her groggy sleep by footsteps.

She rolled over, assuming another lunatic was moving into the room next door. A second later, a rubber-gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

She instinctively tried to struggle.

"Don't make a sound. We won't hurt you!" a man said in a low voice.

Ririko's heart raced. Who were these people?

Did patients disappear from Arkham like this every night, never to return?

A strip of black cloth covered her eyes, and someone lifted her from the bed like a kitten.

Panic stirred inside her. She had no idea where they were taking her.

Before long, a system notification appeared:

[Core character "Hugo Strange" has entered effective range]

[Current infatuation value: 35/100]

In an instant, Ririko's pounding heart shifted from fear to fury.

So he had sent these people.

That bastard. What the hell did he want instead of sleeping in the middle of the night?

Two people held her by the arms and pushed her down into a chair.

After the jumble of footsteps retreated, she heard a door close.

The room fell silent.

Ririko sat blindfolded in the chair, her hands on the armrests and her bare feet against the cold floor.

Using her NPC instincts, she quickly assessed the situation:

First, if Hugo wanted to kill her, there was no need to send people to drag her out of her room in the middle of the night.

Second, since she wasn't dead, Hugo must have some other purpose in mind.

And she happened to have another purpose in mind for him, too.

But while she was blindfolded, she first needed to figure out what this whole performance was about.

"Is anyone there?" Her thin voice echoed through the room. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Her tone carried just the right amount of fear, even a hint that she was about to cry.

Footsteps sounded in front of her.

"You can take off the blindfold."

Hugo spoke.

Ririko mentally rolled her eyes at him, but still put on a show of relief.

She raised her slender wrists, her fingers fumbling slightly as she reached behind her head and untied the black strip of cloth.

The room was dimly lit.

A broad wooden desk stood in front of her, its surface spotless.

A row of bookshelves stood in the corner, with a small fireplace beside them that lent the room a touch of deliberately cultivated warmth.

It was completely different from the bright, cold laboratory she had seen before.

This room was more private, quieter, more like someone's den-a place where he could be alone with himself.

And its owner was currently sitting behind that broad wooden desk.

Hugo Strange wore a white shirt with the top two buttons undone, exposing a small patch of skin at his neck and chest.

He sat in a high-backed chair with one leg crossed over the other, his brown-tinted sunglasses still perched on his nose.

Ririko's gaze lingered a moment longer than she intended on his open collar.

Hugo wasn't the sort of scrawny, middle-aged intellectual who chronically lacked exercise and sunlight.

His shoulders were broad, stretching the fabric of his shirt into a clean curve, and the forearms beneath his rolled-up sleeves showed clearly defined veins and muscles.

All in all, his physique was worth a look.

Ririko drew back a little, adopting the delicate, vulnerable pose expected of an NPC while letting her hospital gown faithfully trace the curves of her body.

"I was sleeping. Why did you bring me here?"

Ririko made her voice slightly hoarse from being woken up, with a nasal hint of hurt.

Hugo continued to study her from a distance.

"This is also part of the experiment."

"What kind of experiment has to happen in the middle of the night?"

Hugo didn't answer immediately.

He rose from his chair, rounded the desk, and walked toward her.

Ririko shrank back a little farther. In the dim room, his approach carried a certain oppressive weight.

Hugo stopped in front of her, then calmly began unbuttoning his shirt.

The two sides of his shirt fell open, exposing his chest and abdomen.

Ririko's right eye went wide.

His physique really did exceed her expectations. Her gaze traveled a short distance down his abs, then slammed to a halt at a certain point.

Wait. What was she doing?

She was here to win him over, not get won over by him.

Then again, since he'd willingly stripped, she didn't have to pretend she hadn't seen anything.

As an NPC who had spent years scraping by in Gotham, she was long past the stage of blushing at the sight of a man's body.

She silently rated the man in front of her.

Eight out of ten. Two points off because he was out of his mind.

Hugo had clearly noticed her gaze. He casually draped his discarded shirt over the back of a chair, leaving his entire upper body bare.

Then he turned around and picked something up from the desk.

It was a ring-shaped device.

Hugo slipped the ring-shaped device onto his left forearm, adjusted its position, and fastened the clasp.

Ririko stared at the device, her mind automatically switching to the adult channel:

"What's that thing? Is it something that helps you last longer?"

Hugo didn't seem surprised by her dirty remark.

"It's a monitoring device. When my heart rate and blood pressure reach preset levels, it will automatically inject a sedative into my body."

He said it casually, as though injecting himself with a sedative were as ordinary as drinking coffee.

Ririko's pupils widened.

He had actually fitted himself with an automatic sedative injector.

What level of lunatic was this?

"Is this really any fun? We... could do this a little more normally, too."

She hadn't planned to say that last part.

After seeing his physique, she genuinely wasn't averse to having a little fun with him.

An eight-out-of-ten body, a voice like a cello, and that contrast between restraint in public and breathless panting in private-

If she absolutely had to find some fun in Arkham, Hugo Strange was certainly not the worst choice.

Hugo returned to his position at a safe distance from her.

"I've noticed that whenever I'm near you, I feel a pull... That's highly unusual."

His gaze remained fixed steadily on her, as though the answer were right in front of him.

"I know my body better than anyone. What excites me, what calms me. In thirty-six years, my body has never done anything that surprised me."

"So I want to determine exactly how powerful this unusual allure of yours is."

"I must remain clearheaded throughout the experiment. This device is merely a precaution."

As Ririko listened to his explanation, she called him a lunatic countless times in her head.

But she had to admire him. This man had already detected the existence of the Mental Corruption System and was even trying to study and overcome the influence it exerted on him.

This was an experiment he was conducting on himself.

His almost self-destructive thirst for knowledge, regardless of the cost, forced her to handle the situation before her with even greater care.

He added at last, "This experiment will last one hour. Afterward, someone will take you back."

He relaxed and leaned back in his chair.

"You may begin."

Ririko's mind raced.

As long as they spent an hour together, his infatuation value would automatically rise to 40.

If she took the initiative and did something during that hour, the number would climb even higher.

A win either way.

In that case... thanks for the treat.

Slowly and unhurriedly, Ririko unfurled her body and stretched in the chair.

As she moved, the loose neckline of her hospital gown slipped down a little, exposing the curve of one shoulder.

She didn't pull the neckline back up, simply letting it rest where it had slipped.

She lifted her eyes to the man before her, who had confined himself to his chair.

Her lips parted slightly.

"So, during this hour, I can do anything I want?"

Hugo's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Yes," he said.

Ririko called this lunatic a lunatic once more in her head, then curled her lips into a seductive smile.