Hiroshi begins investing several dozen millions into Stefano's faction, Osiris Temple

THE TEMPLE'S BOUNTY – A DYNASTY OF SIN

The Osiris Temple – Where Gold Meets Damnation

The private helicopter descended through the storm-wracked skies of the Swiss Alps, its rotors slicing through curtains of rain that glittered like shattered obsidian. Below, the Osiris Temple loomed—a jagged monolith of black granite and stained glass, its spires clawing at the clouds as if trying to drag heaven itself into hell.

Shiro pressed his forehead against the chilled window, his breath fogging the glass. The last time he’d seen Stefano’s sanctum, it had been through the haze of Rita’s thighs, his mind still soft from her ministrations. Now, with his father’s signature drying on a $50 million wire transfer, he was returning not as a guest, but as a patron.

Hiroshi sat across from him, his usual composure frayed at the edges, fingers drumming against the titanium briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. Inside, bearer bonds worth another $30 million—liquid assets, untraceable, perfect for funding Stefano’s experiments.

"Remember," the old billionaire muttered, adjusting his tie, "we’re here for inventory first, indulgences second."

Shiro smirked, rolling the Osiris Ring between his fingers. The band had grown tighter lately, the silver biting into his flesh like a lover’s teeth. "You keep telling yourself that."

The helicopter touched down on the temple’s landing pad, the downdraft sending a flock of ravens spiraling into the tempest.

Stefano awaited them at the entrance, his albino skin glowing against the crimson of his dervish robes, his circlet pulsing with the same violet light that now lived in Rita and Caterina’s eyes.

"Welcome," he purred, fangs glinting, "to the harvest."

The Grand Atrium – A Living Catalogue

The temple’s heart was a cathedral of depravity.

Mahogany pews had been replaced with velvet-draped examination tables; stained glass windows depicted not saints, but slaves in various stages of hypnotic training.

*Shlup!*

*Shluck*

*Shlup!*

The air reeked of incense, sex, and something darker—ozone and copper, the scent of magic at work.

And the merchandise...

Dozens of women knelt in perfect rows, their naked bodies oiled and displayed like rare artifacts.

"H-Harder!! Please..."

Nordic blondes with icy-blue eyes, their nipples pierced with silver chains that shimmered with enchantment.

Ebony-skinned beauties from Congo's villages, their voluptuous thighs marked with sigils that promised bottomless hunger.

"C-Chotto!! Hmmph!!"

Delicate Japanese maids, their mouths gagged with silk cords that dripped with aphrodisiacs.

Hiroshi’s briefcase hit the floor with a thud.

"M-Majika..." he breathed.

Stefano chuckled, trailing a claw down the spine of a trembling redhead. "Yes, for real, old man. Welcome to our... humble abode" He snapped his fingers.

A pair of novices—twin sisters from Taipei, their minds scoured clean of everything but obedience—scurried forward with crystal goblets. The wine inside swirled on its own, a living thing.

"Drink, my friends" Stefano commanded. "Then we negotiate."

Shiro drained his in one gulp.

"Fuaah!"

The liquid burned, not like ****, but like awakening—a fire that raced down his throat and pooled in the young man's groin, making his fat cock throb against his slacks.

"Hmmm, what a... p-peculiar taste."

Hiroshi sipped more cautiously, but the effect was immediate. The old man's pupils dilated, his free hand clawing at his suddenly constricting trousers.

"What the hell is in this?"

Stefano’s grin was a knife-slash. "The future."

The Inspection – Sampling the Goods

The first girl was brought forward—a Ukrainian violinist named Anya, the pale beauty's wrists still bearing the faint marks of conservatory shackles.

"Play for us," Stefano murmured, pressing a bow into her trembling hands.

She obeyed.

The moment the bow touched the strings, the room shuddered.

The music was alive, a sonic vampirism that wrapped around Shiro’s spine and pulled. He groaned, his cock leaking as the melody stroked him from the inside.

Hiroshi was less restrained. With a snarl, he yanked the girl from her stool, bending her over the nearest table. Her scream as he entered her dry was swallowed by the music intensifying, the violin playing itself now, its notes prying open her resistance like a crowbar.

"She’s perfect," Shiro growled, his fingers digging into Rita’s hips as she grinded against him. "We’ll take six like her."

Stefano laughed, his robe falling open to reveal the monstrous truth beneath—tendrils of living shadow that caressed Caterina’s wings as she fed him grapes with her toes.

"Why stop at six?"

A gesture, and the next batch shuffled forward—college students from Cambridge, their minds rewired to orgasm on command; Russian gymnasts with spinal flexibility that defied anatomy; a French chef whose tongue could detect aphrodisiacs in parts per billion.

Hiroshi collapsed onto a divan, his slacks around his ankles, his cock buried in the violinist’s throat as two more girls licked his balls.

"F-Fifty million," he panted. "For exclusive rights to the European shipments."

Stefano’s claws clicked against his goblet.

"Done."

The Ritual – Sealing the Pact

The contract was signed in blood and seed.

Shiro watched as Stefano dipped a quill into Hiroshi’s spilled essence, the ink swirling black then gold as it scrawled itself across parchment.

"Your first shipment arrives next week," the hypnotist purred, licking the nib clean. "Twelve virgins from Minsk, pre-loaded with obedience protocols."

Hiroshi nodded, his eyes glazed, his fingers knotting in the hair of the girl sucking him dry.

Shiro rose, his own need unsated. Stefano met his gaze, his smile widening as Rita and Caterina pounced, their talons shredding his clothes.

"And for you," the albino whispered, pressing a dagger into Shiro’s palm, "a gift."

The blade sang as it sliced through fabric and flesh, revealing the girl beneath—a Japanese idol star, her mind erased, her body programmed to remember nothing but pleasure.

"M-Master...?" she whimpered, her eyes violet already.

Shiro plunged into her weeping cunt with a snarl, the Ring on his finger flaring as the Temple shook with the **** of their joining.

Stefano watched, his tendrils fucking Caterina’s wings as Rita screamed in ecstasy.

The Hanakawa Dynasty had new heirs.

The Temple had new patrons.

And the world?

The world would burn bright before this night was through.