The Master Programmer-Chapter 86: Oh, Tim~~!! 1

— Meanwhile, in another building, a brothel that had red lights everywhere —

*Plap! Plap! Plap!*

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"

"Oh, Tim, you’re so much better than Jason! I love you so much, Tim! Oh! Oh!"

Tim’s heavy, sweaty body heaved with exertion as he thrust into the voluptuous form of the prostitute sprawled beneath him, watching as she looked at him with a dead-eyed look that only someone who had experienced loads of cock would look at him with.

The room was dimly lit, and there was something wrong with all of this… writhing flesh and fake passion. Even Tim could feel it too. Despite her best efforts to mimic the ecstasy he so desperately craved, the dead, hollow sounds that escaped her lips were a mockery of genuine pleasure.

Damn it... This was not how it was supposed to go.

He’d been fantasizing about this moment for a while, ever since he’d laid eyes on the photo of Veronica that had been burned into his mind like a brand. She was so beautiful, so stylish, the perfect image of someone incredibly beautiful. The perfect MILF. The difference with her was that she did not have any children.

But the woman beneath him, her thick makeup running in rivulets down her face, her moans forced and mechanical, was a far cry from the image he’d obsessed over.

But since he was here then he may as well do his job. Closing his eye, Tim continued fucking her. "You like that, Veronica? Huh?! You like my cock inside you?!"

"Yes, Tim! I love it so much!!" The woman said, her voice squealing a bit too much, maybe because of the fat man who was pressing onto her, making it hard for her to breathe.

Tim heard that voice and jerked by mistake, almost missing his rhythm as he continued fucking her. Damn it! Why did Jason always have to have the good things?

Even this Veronica was a pale imitation. The real Veronica, with her full, luscious lips, her sparkling eyes, and her curves that seemed to defy gravity, was a creature of his imagination, brought to life in a way that this overworked, loose streetwalker never could.

He’d picked her out from a lineup of desperate faces, hoping against hope that she would be the one to satisfy his cravings, to make him feel like the man he never could with the real thing. But then now, it was clear that she could never be the person she was going to be.

Her breasts, though large and pliant, didn’t bounce the way he’d seen in his mind’s eye. They lay there, lifeless and flat like pancakes., as if even they were disappointed with the charade. He squeezed them hard, trying to coax some semblance of life into them, but it was like trying to wring water from a stone. The more he tried to force the issue, the less he felt.

Damn it! Damn you, Jason!

With a snarl, Tim pulled out of her loose snatch and slapped her hard across the face with a *Pah!*, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. The woman’s eyes went wide, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he thought he’d gone too far. But she just nodded, her eyes darting to the side, where the madam’s silhouette loomed in the doorway.

"You’re not Veronica," he spat, his voice thick with disgust, finally regaining the impetus. "You’re a slut, just like the rest of them."

The madam’s voice was smooth as silk, but it held a steel core that could cut through the tension. "I’ll take care of it," she assured him, her eyes promising retribution. "Just tell me what you need. I’ll be willing to give Sir Tim anything he ever wished for. Even me. For a price of course."

But Tim was already lost in his world, his frustration and anger boiling over. He waved her off. "No," he said, his voice a low growl. "I know what I need." He turned back to the woman, her cheek red from the slap. "Bend over," he ordered. "I don’t want to see your disgusting face. And this time make sure to make your moans sweeter. Don’t squeal like some pig. Remember, you’re a dignified CEO."

The woman complied, her body moving with a practised grace that was almost beautiful. She positioned herself on the bed, arching her back and presenting herself to him. He took a moment to admire her ample ass, the way it jiggled with the slightest movement. Just as he imagined it.

But seeing the sight of marks, He inwardly sighed. Damn it when was he going to finally have access to the real thing?

He stroked his cock, trying to regain his lost arousal. The reason he had lost it was not important. What was important was the fact that he had lost it. And that would never be his fault.

It was difficult, but he was nothing if not determined. He needed this. He needed to feel like he’d won. He needed to hear her call his name and tell him how much better he was than that worthless piece of shit, Jason.

As he slammed into her from behind with a half-engorged penis, her moans grew louder, more urgent. "Oh, Tim," she gasped, her voice a parody of the woman he lusted after. "You’re so much better than him. You’re so big, so strong."

Tim laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. "Yeah," he said, his hips pumping faster. "That’s right. Soon, I’ll be fucking the real Veronica, and you know what I’m going to do?"

The woman’s voice was strained, but she kept up the act. "What, baby?" she moaned. Tim slapped her in the ass, making her moan out a squeal, as he continued fucking her. The real Veronica could not say something like that.

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Fucking slut.

"I’m going to tell her everything," he said, his eyes closed tight as he lost himself in the fantasy. "How I’m going to destroy Jason. How I’m going to ruin him in front of her? And shes going to beg me to stop, but I won’t. I’ll keep going. And then when I do that, I’ll uhgh! Ah!!"

The madam watched as this fat man fell over one of her girls, praying in her heart that she would not be scarred for life from this. She sighed. She would give her a really good bonus. Hopefully, that would be enough for her.

— Meanwhile at a building on the other side of the city’s Underbelly —

Troy, the cold-hearted, intelligent gangster with an insatiable obsession for finance and money, lay sprawled across the bed, his eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at the ceiling above.

The shadows played upon his face, casting it in a stark relief that emphasized the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the furrowed brow of deep contemplation. His expression was one of a man whose mind had just been blown to smithereens as if he had just glimpsed the very fabric of reality unravelling before his eyes.

If Jason saw that look, he would have smirked. The man had finally understood the power of his pills. That would forever be something good, at least for Jason. However, at the same time, he would be looking forward to seeing the man again. After all, Troy was no idiot. He too was in the business of drugs. If someone had the good shit, all the fiends would flock.

Troy’s thoughts raced as he relived the recent events that had brought him to this moment, his heart thumping against his chest. What a crazy past few hours. What had he just experienced? What exactly was it all? How utterly terrifying!

The room around him was a testament to his wealth and power, the opulent furnishings speaking volumes of the ill-gotten gains that had filled his coffers over the years. Rich mahogany panels adorned the walls, while a velvet curtain obscured the single, barred window, allowing only a sliver of the harsh cityscape to pierce the darkness.

The bed itself was a monolith of luxury, the soft Egyptian cotton sheets whispering against his skin as he shifted his weight. The heavy silence was broken only by the tick-tock of an antique clock on the nightstand, its rhythmic pulse a metronome to the chaos within his head.

The pill lay on the desk, a solitary sentinel amidst the chaos of scattered papers and empty whiskey glasses. It was a small, unassuming object, yet it held within it a power that could revolutionize the very foundations of his empire.

It had been given to him by his new "business partner", Jason, a man he had thought he would destroy very soon, only to realise that he was way more impressive than he ever thought. After all the man had managed to beat up fifty of his subordinates and then make it out of there, even going on to have a meeting with him where he pitched him a "magic pill" that would change his life...

At first, he didn’t believe it either. But then it all began to make sense.

Jason had claimed that this pill was the key to unlocking a new level of intelligence, a temporary elixir that would make even the most mundane of tasks seem like child’s play. Back then he did not believe it but 8 hours after giving it to his secretary, he too found himself taking one of those pills.

The memory of his personal assistant’s transformation after taking the pill was as vivid as ever. She had moved with a grace and efficiency that seemed almost inhuman, her eyes alight with an inner fire that had sent a shiver down his spine.

Her words, spoken with a precision that seemed almost supernatural, had told him of a world where the flow of information was as natural as breathing, where every question had an instant answer, and every problem a swift solution. That at first made him feel like they were cooperating. But after getting her to the test, he soon realised just how deep the rabbit hole went.

She was not only smarter, she was physically sharper, even defeating him in a physical fight, something she had never done before. When she learned anything she recalled it with a startling accuracy. It seemed all her mental faculties had been enhanced to a whole new level.

But it was the price she had paid that had made him pause.

After the initial rush, she had been plunged into an abyss of mental lethargy, her once sharp mind as dull as a butter knife. She had become sluggish, and weak, and this had led Troy to understand that as much as this pill was impressive it was also dangerous.

After all, if he took it in an unsafe environment, would he not immediately be in danger?