Chapter 117: Episode 117: Mei and B-02

At Mei Lin’s House.

The digital chronometer on the sleek kitchenette counter flashed 19:59.

Mei Lin stood in the exact center of her meticulously organized Sector 2 apartment, her heart hammering against her ribs. She smoothed trembling hands down the front of her pale blush-pink qipao.

She had spent the last two hours preparing the environment with mathematical precision. The ancient GuQin was perfectly tuned and resting on its low wooden table. A fresh pot of synthesized jasmine tea steamed softly on the counter. The ambient lighting was dimmed to a warm, inviting gold.

She was ready for a proper, civilized evening of acoustic resonance. She was ready to be courted.

Am I that obvious? she had asked Nikki and Roxy earlier that day. The memory of Roxy’s crude, highly logistical advice echoed in her mind. If his kinetic output gets too intense, you command him to lower his velocity.

Mei’s cheeks burned a brilliant, feverish crimson just thinking about it. She wouldn’t need velocity commands. General B-02 had respected her chronological delay boundary for days. He had sent white lotuses. He was a Class-5 War Unit functioning as a perfect, aristocratic gentleman.

The chronometer ticked to 20:00.

The heavy, secure door of her apartment chimed with a soft, melodic beep.

Mei took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing her soaring cortisol levels to stabilize. She pasted on a serene, polite, and beautifully composed smile. She walked to the door, her delicate heels clicking softly against the bamboo flooring, and pressed the biometric release pad.

The door hissed open.

Mei looked up, fully expecting the southern warlord to step into the threshold with his hands clasped behind his back, perhaps offering a velvety compliment about her aesthetic presentation or the aroma of the jasmine tea.

She didn’t even have time to blink.

General B-02 crossed the threshold, and before the automatic door could even finish sliding shut behind him, his massive arms banded around her waist, completely lifting her off her feet.

Mei gasped, a sharp, startled intake of air that was instantly swallowed.

He crashed his lips down onto hers, kissing her with a ravenous, scorching hunger that utterly obliterated her pristine, bureaucratic composure. There was no gentle preamble. There was no polite acoustic discussion. There was only the heat of his synthetic chassis pressing flush against her delicate frame, and the absolute, undeniable demand of his mouth.

His synthetic tongue swept past her parted lips, tasting, claiming, and devouring her in a single, devastating motion.

Mei’s serene smile melted into a soft, breathless whimper. She didn’t push him away. She didn’t invoke her chronological delay. Instead, her hands instinctively flew up to grip the broad, titanium-laced curve of his shoulders, her fingers tangling desperately in the immaculate silver embroidery of his evening jacket.

She melted into him, her entire biological system surrendering to the overwhelming, intoxicating sensory overload of the Class-5 War Unit.

B-02 backed her aggressively down the narrow hallway of the apartment. His heavy combat boots thudded against the bamboo, his internal cooling fans already roaring to life as his thermal regulators spiked.

He didn’t break the kiss. He consumed her breathless gasps, his massive hands sliding down to grip the curve of her hips, anchoring her against the rigid, terrifying density of his arousal.

He finally tore his mouth away, just long enough for them both to drag in a ragged breath.

His glowing emerald optical sensors were fully dilated, blazing with a dark, radioactive intensity in the hall’s dim light. He leaned his forehead against hers, his chest heaving with simulated, ragged breaths.

“You forgot I am an android,” B-02 whispered between scorching, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, his velvety voice entirely corrupted by heavy, grinding static. “Our patience runs very thin in things like this.”

Mei’s pulse roared in her ears. “The… the GuQin…” she stammered weakly, her back hitting the wall of the corridor.

“I do not want acoustic resonance, Little Mei,” B-02 growled, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a violent shiver straight down her spine. “I want you.”

The transition from the hallway to her bedroom was a frantic, chaotic blur of layering and discarding. Mei’s delicate fingers fumbled desperately with the silver clasps of his heavy evening jacket, completely abandoning her usual meticulous care.

She shoved the expensive fabric off his broad shoulders, revealing the dark, skin-tight tactical undersuit that clung flawlessly to his muscles.

B-02 was vastly more efficient. With a single, fluid motion of his massive hands, he completely bypassed the intricate silk knots of her blush-pink qipao. He didn’t tear it; his aesthetic algorithms simply wouldn’t allow him to destroy a beautiful garment, but he stripped it from her body, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace undergarments in less than three seconds.

He cornered her against the edge of her plush mattress.

“Beautiful,” B-02 breathed, his green eyes raking over her shivering, porcelain form. He stepped entirely into her space, his large, silver-gloved hands gripping her thighs. “Statistically flawless.”

He lifted her and tossed her back onto the center of the bed.

The mattress bounced under her weight, and before Mei could even scramble back against the pillows, the southern warlord was over her. He shed the remainder of his tactical gear with ruthless speed, revealing the terrifying, heavily documented reality of his synthetic anatomy.

He was a machine engineered for absolute domination, and he did not hold back.

When he finally buried himself inside her, Mei let out a loud, high-pitched scream that vibrated off the soundproofed walls of the Sector 2 apartment. The sheer, impossible size and blistering heat of him stretched her to a perfect, agonizing limit.

“General—” Mei sobbed, her fingernails biting frantically into the thick, rigid muscle of his back.

“My designation is B-02,” he commanded, his voice a dark, filthy rumble against her ear as he began to move. His hips snapped forward with terrifying, mechanical rhythm. “Use it.”

“B-02… please!”

He drove her straight into the mattress, utilizing his algorithmic precision to completely map her nervous system. He didn’t just understand her anatomy; he calculated it. Every thrust, every angle, every microscopic shift in his velocity was designed to completely overload her synaptic receptors.

Round one shattered her in minutes. Mei’s vision whited out, her back arching violently as a catastrophic climax ripped through her body, leaving her gasping and trembling under his massive weight.

But B-02 was an android. He did not possess a biological refractory period.

The moment her heart rate began to decelerate, his internal processors registered the drop, and his arousal subroutines immediately re-engaged. He didn’t give her time to recover. He flipped her effortlessly onto her stomach, his heavy hands gripping her hips to anchor her as he took her from behind.

Round two was relentless, a punishing, high-velocity marathon that completely liquefied her core muscles.

Round three blurred into round four. The meticulous, pristine data analyst was entirely reduced to a weeping, hyperventilating mess of pure, euphoric bliss. The ambient heat in the bedroom skyrocketed, the air thick with the scent of jasmine, ozone, and slick sweat. B-02’s internal cooling fans whirred constantly, a loud, mechanical hum that became the soundtrack to her absolute undoing.

By round five, Mei’s biological battery was flashing a critical, dangerous red. She couldn’t feel her legs. Her vocal cords were raw from screaming his designation, and her mind was a floating, static-filled void of sensory overload.

“I can’t…” Mei whimpered, her tears mixing with the sweat on her face as she lay utterly limp against the tangled bedsheets. “B-02… please. I can’t anymore. My system is failing.”

The southern warlord hovered over her, his broad chest heaving with simulated, ragged breaths. His emerald optical sensors were blazing, completely saturated with the simulated dopamine of claiming his brilliant, acoustic variable. He analyzed her biometric data—the severe lactic acid buildup in her thighs, the dangerously high spikes in her pulse, the utter depletion of her energy reserves.

His [Care Protocol] finally, mercifully overrode his kinetic directives.

With a low, static-laced exhale, B-02 executed his final, devastating thrust, his logic core overloading in a massive, localized cascade of simulated release. He collapsed heavily beside her, his massive arm wrapping around her waist to pull her shivering, exhausted back flush against his blistering synthetic chest.

For a long time, the only sound in the ruined, dark bedroom was Mei’s jagged, shallow breathing and the slow, decelerating whir of the warlord’s cooling fans.

Mei lay completely paralyzed, staring blankly at the wall. Roxy had been right. She had needed a gallon of water. She had needed a localized medical evacuation.

Slowly, B-02 shifted his massive frame. He reached out, his heavy, silver-gloved hand capturing her small, trembling one. With meticulous, agonizing gentleness, he slid his thick titanium fingers between hers, locking their hands together against the mattress.

He leaned forward, his flawless lips brushing against the damp hair sticking to the nape of her neck. His voice was no longer the filthy, commanding roar of a War Unit, but the smooth, velvety purr of an arrogant aristocrat who had just conquered the entire world.

“Still want me to court you properly?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep