Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 208- Horny Warriors

"—’Nnnghh~~~~~...’—"

The eighth had her face at the back of his neck.

"—’Mmnh~...’—" Pressed. Continuous.

He drove.

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

Three sounds:

"—’AAAHN~!!!’—"

"—’HAANN~!!!’—"

"—’MMNH~!!!’—"

The eighth one was making her sound from behind him. Not receiving — conducting. Her hands applying the flat, present, rhythm-reinforcing pressure at his back that communicated: ’maintain the pace, do not reduce the pace, the pace is correct.’

PAAH PAAH PAAAH!

"—’AAAHNN~!!! HAANN~!!! MMNH~!!!’—"

Three voices.

Three bodies.

The warm, comprehensive, accumulated forty-eight-hour arrival of three women who had been at threshold and were now past it and were filing the experience of being past it at full, simultaneous, honest volume.

The third woman, still on her knees, had relocated to the front. She had repositioned with the flat, self-directed efficiency of someone who had assessed where she was most useful and had moved there.

Her mouth was doing the specific, warm, thorough work of a woman who had been looking forward to this particular work for forty-eight hours and was applying the full, accumulated, unhurried attention of someone with time to invest.

"—’Mmngh~... mmnh~... mmngh~...’—"

The first woman — the one who had hit his chest with her mouth — had found the sixth’s neck. She had decided that the sixth was the most available surface at this specific moment and was addressing the sixth’s available surface with the flat, present, thoroughly-motivated attention of a woman who had been in the broadcast range for forty-eight hours and was not picky about the exact shape of the outlet.

The sixth had an opinion about this.

"—’AHN~!!!’—’yes’—’HAANN~!!!’—’yes there’—’AHN~!!!’—’there’—’AAAHNN~!!!’—"

PAAH PAAH PAAH PAAAH!

"—’AAAHNN~!!! HAANN~!!! AHN~!!! AAAHNNNN~~~~~!!!’—"

The sixth came first.

The specific, full, comprehensive, everything-at-once arrival of a woman who had been at threshold for forty-eight hours and had just had that threshold exceeded from three directions simultaneously — the light building at her skin with the warm, rapid, compressed advancement of someone receiving dual cultivation input at point-blank triple range.

Breakthrough: Core Formation Mid.

She went limp.

Not the managed limp. The complete, total, absolute limp of a body that had just filed a Core Formation Mid breakthrough and was currently doing nothing except processing.

The seventh had not yet arrived.

He was still with the seventh.

The seventh was looking at the sky with the specific, wide, completely-present, going-nowhere-else eyes of a woman who was forty-eight hours into threshold and was receiving the specific, comprehensive, point-blank event of a Nascent Soul Mid Stage dual cultivation practitioner at full, unrestrained output.

"—’Senior’—’AHN~!!!’—’why’—’HAANN~!!!’—’why does it feel like it’s going’—’AHN~!!!’—’all the way’—’AAAHN~!!!’—’like it’s filling’—’HAANN~!!!’—’everything’—’AAAHNN~!!!’—"

PAAAH!

"—’KYAAANGHHH~!!! AAAHNNNN~~~~~!!!’—"

Breakthrough: Core Formation Late.

The light went full gold.

She lay flat beneath the sixth woman’s dead weight with the specific, warm, settled, accomplished expression of someone who had just crossed a stage boundary they had been approaching for six years and had done it in three minutes.

He noted: efficient. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

The eighth had pressed her face against his shoulder from behind at the moment of the seventh’s breakthrough — the specific, involuntary, forward-lean of a woman receiving the secondary cultivation transfer spillover at point-blank range and having a comprehensive physiological response to it.

"—’Aaahnn~...’—" Long. Low. The specific, warm, absorbed sound of a body receiving something it had not anticipated receiving.

He looked at her over his shoulder.

She looked at him.

Her eyes were — the specific, slightly-wide, present, recalibrating quality of a woman who had just received secondary spillover from a major breakthrough event at the distance of negative zero.

"Your turn," he said.

She looked at him for two more seconds.

Then she came around to the front with the flat, forward, no-further-discussion efficiency of a woman who had filed the information and was executing the result.

’’’

Twelve women.

He ran the line the way he ran everything — with the flat, systematic, unhurried thoroughness of someone for whom this was the work and the work was being done correctly.

But this line was not the first line.

This line had forty-eight hours in it.

The difference was architectural — the first twelve had come to him with the specific, mixed, individual combination of desire and hesitation and anticipation and uncertainty that women brought when they were making a decision for the first time.

The second twelve had come to him with ’forty-eight hours.’

They had watched everything.

They had watched the virgin’s blood and the MILFs" breakthroughs and the fifth woman’s involuntary event and the eighth woman’s doggy position and both simultaneous lights of the eleventh and twelfth — they had watched all of it from the clearing’s edge in the full broadcast range while their own bodies ran the continuous, unmanaged, non-stop physiological response of women in that state for that duration.

They had watched their compound-sisters advance.

They had felt every breakthrough event at range — the secondary cultivation transfer spillover that arrived at the perimeter of a dual cultivation session like heat from a fire, not the full warmth but the flat, warm, present proof that the fire was there.

They had felt twelve of their sisters advance past them.

Twelve women who, forty-eight hours ago, had been their equals.

Who were now their seniors.

This was the specific, worst, most motivating possible thing the second twelve could have experienced for forty-eight hours. He knew this. The Eye of Truth had been reading the meridian states of the perimeter women throughout — had been noting the specific, accumulating, jealousy-compound that was building on top of the desire and the threshold and the broadcast range, the specific, cultivator-jealousy response of women watching their peers advance while they stood and watched.

By the time he said ’should we go for another round’, the second twelve were not operating at desire.

They were operating at ’need.’

The difference between desire and need was the difference between a woman who came to him walking and a woman who came to him sprinting.

He worked through the architecture of each one.

’’’

The train line assembled itself without instruction.

He had not said ’form a line’ this time. He had not needed to — the second twelve had watched the first twelve and had understood the relevant logistical lesson, and they implemented it with the flat, efficient, no-wasted-motion arrangement of women who had pre-calculated the geometry during the previous forty-eight hours.

The specific, sequential, forward-moving, one-after-another arrangement of eleven women on their knees in the grass behind the one who was with him — not passive, not waiting, the active, continuous, in-motion preparation of eleven women who were each doing their own detailed, thorough, completely self-directed preparation for their own arrival.

He noted this.

He noted the specific, warm, ambient, extraordinary energy of eleven women running their own cultivator’s meridian preparation at full output while watching the twelfth get the full transfer at point-blank range and making the specific, collected, increasingly-present sounds of women who were getting closer to the front.

The sounds were layered.

The specific, sequential, overlapping, eleven-voice ambience of a line where each voice was at a different stage of its own process — the back of the line lower, more patient, the cultivator’s managed breath; the middle louder, less managed; the front — the woman directly behind the current one — at the specific, present, almost-there volume of someone who was at position two and had a comprehensive, fully-formed, very loud opinion about being at position two.

"—’Aaahn~...’—" Back of line.