Vol.10 - Dr. Sugimoto-------------s Lecherous Treatment.srt — Umemaro 3d -

Later, alone in his quarters, he played the recording back through the chair. He closed his eyes. He felt what she had felt. And for the first time in years, Dr. Sugimoto smiled.

And the chair? The chair was scrapped for parts. But in a dozen cheap electronics markets across the city, second-hand neural interface headsets occasionally appear for sale. The price is always low. The warning label is always missing. If you meant something lighter or closer to a different genre, let me know and I can adjust the tone.

The first few experiments were gentle. Recordings of comfort, a warm blanket, the taste of chocolate. Sugimoto reviewed the data with cold precision. But soon the recordings grew darker. He discovered that fear produced richer neural data than joy. Desperation, sharper than contentment. And humiliation—humiliation painted the brain in colors he had never seen. Later, alone in his quarters, he played the

“Just relax,” he said, placing the cranial cap over her hair. “I’m going to record a small memory. Nothing painful.”

His laboratory, tucked beneath the dull concrete of Okunoin University, was a cathedral of chrome and humming servers. Few visited. Fewer questioned. The graduate students saw only the published papers—breakthroughs in pain management, memory retrieval, phantom limb therapy. They never saw the private wing. They never saw the padded chair. And for the first time in years, Dr

For six hours, he fed her manufactured sensations—violations of trust, invasions of dignity, the slow burn of helplessness. He watched her vitals spike and crash like a dying star. And he recorded every millisecond.

But Dr. Sugimoto had other plans.

He lied.