The World Is Mine For The Taking

I was discovered. Immediately.

A jolt of realization shot through me.

There was no escaping this. No excuses. No clever deflection. The weight of my actions bore down on me like an unshakable force. My breathing hitched, my heart pounded against my ribs, and my skin prickled with heat.

I had been caught red-handed.

There was only one thing left to do—admit to it.

"Ah... so... uhm..." My voice came out unsteady as I stepped forward, revealing myself to them. My movements were stiff, my body betraying my guilt. "Was I too loud...?"

A hollow laugh almost escaped me, but I swallowed it down. There was no talking my way out of this.

Peeping and pleasuring myself like this was undeniably wrong.

I had committed both sins, fully aware of how wrong it was. And yet, despite knowing that, I had done it anyway.

There was no avoiding the consequences.

No beating the allegations this time.

***

Leon's POV

The following morning, an air of awkward tension lingered between Chloe, Zoey and me. Well, particularly both of Zoey and me.

Neither of us spoke about last night.

Unspoken, we had agreed not to go for another round.

Not that Chloe didn't want to—if anything, she had been eager, her body practically thrumming with restless desire. Her stamina and libido were beyond anything I had expected. Stopping after just two or three rounds was not enough for her. She probably would have been satisfied with four or five. Or might be something more.

I, on the other hand, had a libido far stronger than most, yet even I knew when a reprieve was necessary.

That moment of restraint made living in this apartment feel strangely more peaceful.

At present, I was outside, weaving through the bustling city. Rain drizzled from the sky, cool droplets rolling down my altered face. I had subtly changed my appearance—tweaking my hair, adjusting minor facial details.

It was necessary.

The automatas and surveillance systems had already logged my face into their data. That meant anyone in this country—perhaps even this entire world—recognized me.

Despite that, Zoey and Chloe had chosen not to turn me in.

Apparently, because I had claimed them, I now held full rights over them.

It was an established belief in this world. A deeply ingrained culture.

Frankly, it left me shaken.

Yet, I couldn't deny that it worked in my favor. That belief made my mission far easier. With them on my side, I had a direct path to achieving my goal.

The soft pattering of rain filled the silence as I walked alongside Anne.

Despite being an automata, she was entirely unaffected by the downpour. No risk of short-circuiting, no sign of discomfort—nothing. The precision of her mechanical design was flawless.

For a world that knew so little about sex, they were absurdly advanced in other fields.

Luckily, Chloe was well-versed in those matters. And even though she already knew so much…

She still craved more.

"Master, your libido meter has decreased."

Anne's voice was as smooth as ever, devoid of inflection. She walked beside me, scanning me with her cold, analytical gaze. Her metallic irises flickered briefly, taking in my every microexpression.

"It seems you managed to lower it yesterday."

"I did. So you don't have to worry about me," I replied, shaking off the remnants of last night.

"I feel as though I am not being useful to you in that regard, Master." Her tone remained neutral, but the words hung in the air with an odd weight. "However, I can understand why. You have a real woman already."

Her eyes remained unreadable—an unsettling void of expression.

Was that truly the case? Or were automatas simply programmed this way?

After a pause, I glanced at her. "Anne, is it possible for automatas to have feelings? Are you programmed with emotions, or something similar?"

She tilted her head slightly, as if processing the question. "Emotions? Feelings?" A pause. "I don't believe so."

A brief silence stretched between us before she continued.

"I have never felt anything of the sort, Master. I do not believe I have ever experienced what humans perceive as emotions. I was programmed without them."

Her voice was unwavering, absolute.

And yet… something about the way she said it didn't feel absolute at all.

"I see…" I murmured, my voice trailing off as I processed the information. "Well, I suppose that makes sense."

Automatas weren't born—they were built. Crafted by human hands, constructed through sheer engineering rather than the chaotic miracle of biology. They lacked the fundamental components of life as we knew it. They couldn't possibly possess emotions.

After all, emotions weren't something you could just install like a piece of software. If they weren't written into the code, they simply wouldn't exist.

Yet… a thought gnawed at the back of my mind.

What kind of programs were they built with? What lines of code dictated their thoughts, their actions? What was embedded deep within their synthetic minds?

As if sensing my curiosity, Anne's voice cut through my thoughts.

"If you are wondering what kind of programs have been established within me, I can provide you with a detailed report."

I blinked, turning my attention to her.

"You can?" I asked, a hint of intrigue lacing my voice. "That kind of information isn't restricted?"

"I can." Anne nodded, her expression as neutral as ever. "My internal systems and protocols are not classified. I am permitted to disclose them freely."

That struck me as… odd.

Weren't high-value creations like her supposed to be heavily protected? Their manufacturing processes, programming, and inner workings should have been guarded secrets.

Yet here she was, offering to lay it all out for me without hesitation.

But then again…

This was a different world.

Perhaps secrecy wasn't something they prioritized here.

By the time we returned to the apartment, the weight of the grocery bags was starting to get to me. As soon as we stepped inside, the familiar warmth of home greeted us—yet the atmosphere was already thick with focus.

In the living room, Chloe was hunched over a table, completely absorbed in her research. The glow of her computer screen cast sharp shadows across her face, highlighting her sharp features. Papers were scattered around her, a chaotic mess that only she could probably make sense of.

She didn't even glance up.

"Oh, Leon. Welcome back."

That was it. A quick acknowledgment, nothing more.

Even after last night—even after everything—she remained completely unmoved.

At least she greeted me. That was something.

On the couch, Zoey sat curled up, a cup of coffee cradled between her hands. The deep bags under her eyes told me everything—I didn't even need to ask.

The moment I entered, she shivered.

Her gaze flickered toward me, cautious, guarded—then quickly darted away, as if looking at me too long would burn her.

I barely had time to process that before Anne spoke.

"I will prepare the food, Master."

"Thanks. I'm starting to get hungry."

Without another word, Anne gathered the groceries and disappeared into the kitchen. The faint clatter of plastic bags and rustling of ingredients filled the air.

Meanwhile, I moved closer to Chloe, peering over her shoulder.

"What are you working on now?" I asked.

"I'm still busy with my research, so please don't bother me."

Cold.

Even after last night, her obsession with her research remained unshaken. Unwavering.

Her level of dedication was almost inhuman.

"I didn't gain much of anything from the sex last night," she muttered, her tone clinical. "I wasted too much time. Now, I have to work three—no, four times as hard today. If I don't, by the time I die, I won't have accomplished anything worthwhile."

I blinked.

She barely paused before continuing, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she spoke.

"I need to finish my research on the exact day before my predetermined death date. Losing an entire day to masturbation and sex has set me back. Because of that, I have to make up for it with quadruple the effort."

To her… last night was a waste of time.

I wasn't exactly expecting a heartfelt confession, but damn.

Still, I couldn't say I was offended. It wasn't like I had any deep attachment to what happened. If anything, I saw it as a simple one-night stand.

We both enjoyed ourselves—that was all that mattered.

As I skimmed through the research papers strewn across her desk, I quickly realized that a good chunk of it was beyond me.

Too many calculations. Too much abstract theory. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to make sense of it without severe mental gymnastics.

Maybe this kind of work just wasn't for me.

"Leon."

Zoey's voice was quiet—but firm.

I turned to look at her.

She still refused to meet my eyes, her fingers tightening slightly around her coffee cup. The exhaustion in her face was undeniable.

Had she not slept at all?

Chloe and I had stopped fucking at midnight. That was plenty of time for her to rest—yet here she was, looking dead on her feet.

Was she… too embarrassed to sleep?

"What is it?" I asked.

A pause. Then, she spoke.

"Did you really go out for groceries… or was it for something else?"

Her words were sharp, cutting straight through the air.

She saw right through me.

The real reason I left the apartment earlier had nothing to do with groceries. That was just a convenient excuse.

My actual objective?

The facility where I had been imprisoned months ago.

It was abandoned now.

The once-active structure was nothing but a hollow shell—its operations shut down, its halls empty.

A single guard stood watch at the entrance, but slipping past them had been child's play.

I reached into my coat and pulled out a small object, setting it down on the table in front of her.

It gleamed under the dim light.

"Yes," I said evenly. "And I got you what you needed."

Zoey inhaled sharply.

This wasn't just for her.

It was for me.

For Chloe.

For the research.

And with this…

I had already moved into Phase Two.