4

Qiong was awakened by a subtle, rhythmic licking sensation.

He opened his heavy eyelids, the first thing he felt was aching all over, as if his body was falling apart, especially his lower back and groin. Then, he saw Kafka.

She was kneeling between his legs, head bowed, intently licking and cleaning his morning erection. Her long, wine-red hair was disheveled, partially obscuring her face. She was still only wearing that tattered shirt and stockings, but they seemed to have been cleaned up; at least the large stains of semen on her face and chest were gone, although dried, mottled marks remained on the shirt.

Her movements were gentle; her tongue carefully swept over every groove of the glans, licking away any remaining secretions and dried semen residue. Then, she opened her mouth and slowly swallowed the entire penis, all the way to her throat, before slowly spitting it out, repeating this process as she performed her morning "cleaning" and "awakening" service.

Qiong didn't move, just watched quietly. Morning light filtered through the gaps in the ventilation vents, casting dappled shadows on her bare back. Her skin was very white, covered with evidence of last night's frenzy: hickeys, scratches, fingerprints... all starkly visible in the morning light.

After a while, Kafka spat out the penis and raised her head. Her lips were moist and swollen, with a little glistening saliva at the corner of her mouth. Seeing that Sora was awake, her pale purple eyes curved into a smile.

It was no longer the lustful, performative laugh of last night, nor the twisted, inhuman grin of the beginning. Instead, it was a... calm smile, tinged with weariness, but seemingly in good spirits.

“Good morning, darling,” she said in Kaffa’s voice, her tone as natural as if they had just spent an ordinary night together. “Did you sleep well?”

Qiong opened his mouth, but his throat was too dry to make a sound. He looked at her, trying to find something in her eyes—Kafka's consciousness? The cruelty of that alien monster? But there was nothing. Only a calm, pale purple, like the sky after the rain.

Kafka didn't seem to expect his answer. She stood up, walked to the small kitchen area in the corner of the room, took two bottles of water from the refrigerator, returned, handed one to Qiong, opened the other for herself, and took a few sips. The water flowed down her throat, her Adam's apple bobbing. Some water spilled from the corner of her mouth, trickling down her slender neck, past her collarbone, and into the open collar of her shirt.

Qiong took the water and drank a few sips. The cool water temporarily relieved the dryness in her throat and the heat in her body.

“Data collection is basically complete.” Kavka sat down beside him, her legs crossed, the ripped stockings rustling softly. “Thank you for your…cooperation. The samples you provided are very…comprehensive and of high quality.”

Her tone was as if she were discussing a recently completed lab report.

Qiong finally found her voice and asked hoarsely, "Kafka... how is she?"

Kafka turned her head and glanced at him, a fleeting, unreadable emotion flashing in her eyes.

“Her consciousness is stable,” she replied calmly. “She is being properly…preserved. There has been no permanent damage. You can rest assured about that. After all, a healthy, fully conscious host is more valuable than an empty shell.”

Value… Qiong’s heart sank.

"So, what are you planning to do next?" he asked, gripping the water bottle in his hand tightly.

“As planned.” Kafka stood up, walked to the wardrobe, opened it, and took out a clean set of clothes—another white backless shirt, a pair of black high-waisted shorts, and a new pair of dark purple pantyhose. “Search for the star core fragment. Continue observing and collecting data on this planet. Of course…”

She turned around, holding the new shirt in her hand, looked at Qiong, and smiled a familiar, seductive, and controlling smile.

“I need a… local assistant. Someone who can help me integrate here, get information, and… continue to provide ‘data support’ when necessary.”

Qiong's heart skipped a beat.

"Are you threatening me?" His voice turned cold.

“A threat? No.” Kafka shook her head and began unbuttoning her tattered shirt—though the buttons had long since fallen off, she simply took it off and tossed it to the ground. The morning light outlined the beautiful curves of her bare upper body, making the red marks and teeth marks on her breasts even clearer. “It’s a proposal. A… mutually beneficial proposal.”

She picked up the new shirt, put it on slowly and deliberately, buttoned the bottom few buttons, leaving the collar slightly open to reveal her collarbone and a bit of cleavage.

“You see, I can continue to use this body, to act as ‘Kafka.’ This is good for you, for the Star Core Hunters, for the Pioneers… isn’t it? At least, the ‘Kafka’ you know is still there, at least on the surface.” As she spoke, she took off the tattered old stockings from her legs. The stockings, dried from bodily fluids, clung to her skin, making a slight “ripping” sound as they were torn off, revealing the skin of her thighs covered with red marks and minor abrasions. The wound on the outside of her left leg had already scabbed over with a dark scab.

She picked up the new pantyhose, sat on the edge of the bed, and gracefully rolled them up, slipping them over her toes, then slowly pulling them upwards. The delicate, deep purple fabric, like a second skin, gradually enveloped her long, straight legs, concealing the marks of lovemaking, leaving only shallow indentations at the edges of the stockings. She adjusted the position of the toes and heels to ensure a perfect fit.

“And you, you only need to… cooperate with me occasionally.” She stood up, put on her new black shorts, fastened the buttons, and adjusted her waistband. “Provide information when I need it. Assist me when I need to… verify certain data, like last night.”

She walked up to Qiong, bent down, and placed her hands on the edges of the bed on either side of him, trapping him between herself and the bed. Her long, wine-red hair fell down, brushing against Qiong's cheeks. She still carried the faint scent of shower gel, masking the lingering odor of last night's indulgence.

"In return..." her voice lowered, husky with a seductive quality, "you can continue to see 'her.' Occasionally, when I'm in a good mood, perhaps I'll let her consciousness... have a little fresh air? Let you talk to her? Even..."

Her lips brushed against Qiong's ear, her warm breath spraying against him.

"Like last night... I'll 'reward' you. With this body you seem to really like."

Qiong's body stiffened. Temptation, naked temptation. Using Kafka's safety, using her body, using that false hope of "reunion," to bind him, to exploit him.

"What if I refuse?" Qiong heard her own dry voice.

Kafka straightened up, her smile fading slightly, but her eyes remained calm.

“Then I can only take a more… direct approach to ensure my mission isn’t interfered with.” She walked to the mirror, straightened the collar of her new shirt, and gathered her long, burgundy hair behind her shoulder. “For example, completely severing the connection between this body and the original consciousness, making her truly ‘sleep.’ Or, using some more drastic methods to make you…unable to speak.”

Her tone was flat, but the threat in it was obvious.

“Of course, I don’t want it to come to that.” She turned to look at Qiong, her languid smile returning. “I think we had a very pleasant collaboration last night, didn’t we? You’re a great ‘sample,’ and also… obedient. Continuing like this will benefit both of us.”

She walked to the door, placed her hand on the doorknob, and paused for a moment.

“I’ll give you some time to think it over. Give me your answer by today.” She turned her head, her pale purple eyes glancing at Qiong. “You are free to move around, but remember… I’m watching. The spiderweb is finished.”

After saying that, she opened the door and walked out. The metal door closed silently behind her.

Only Qiong remained in the room, sitting on the messy bed, the air still thick with the lingering scent of last night's madness.

He stared at the closed door, at the disheveled sheets stained with various bodily fluids, at the pile of tattered clothes and stockings on the floor…

Then, he lowered his head and looked at his outstretched hands.

The touch of her skin still seemed to linger, along with the warmth and trembling of her body.

Kaffa...

He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.

---

The streets of the border town, where dreams are built, are gradually awakening. Outside the dreamy alleys, the faint sounds of early morning vendors hawking their wares and tourists chatting and laughing can be heard.

Inside the safe house, Qiong slowly stood up and walked to the full-length mirror.

The man in the mirror had sunken eyes, a tired face, and his body was covered with scratches and hickeys, with several clear teeth marks on his neck.

He raised his hand and touched the deepest tooth mark on his neck.

That was when Kafka—or rather, the monster that possessed her body—bit down hard during her climax last night.

At that moment, she bit his neck and whispered in his ear in a broken voice, "A mark... I'll leave you... my mark... You're mine... forever..."

Qiong looked at herself in the mirror, at the mark.

Then, he tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a smile that was even uglier than a grimace.

choose?

Does he really have a choice?