Master of Precepts: Otherworldly Dominion Laws

**Covenants and Identity:** Upon reaching adulthood, everyone forms at least one covenant, determining whether they are a Dominant or a Submissive. Jack mused: Adulthood ceremony? Sounds like a ritualized transition. On Earth, adulthood is a natural process, but here, identity is fixed through covenants. Dominants wield absolute authority and can administer SPANK discipline to ensure Submissives adhere to their covenants. This reminded him of the reverence for teachers—teachers discipline students for education, but here it's a power game. Submissives must obey their covenants or face legal repercussions, even the potential stripping of their identity. He couldn't help but shake his head: Stripping identity? Wouldn't that be social death? **The Authority of the Law Temple:** The institution responsible for managing covenant order is the Law Temple, which upholds the society's covenant rules and punishes those who violate them. The Law Temple is divided into three tiers of enforcers: **Patrol Officers:** Responsible for daily patrols and minor disciplinary actions. **Law Arbitrators:** Handle complex covenant reviews and dispute arbitration. **Law Masters:** Oversee the most critical covenant enforcement, including the certification of lifelong covenants. Jack's teaching experience resonated with this institution: It was like a vast educational system, with the three tiers of enforcers mirroring school levels, from grassroots teachers to principals. Patrol Officers roamed the streets, their silver chains and discipline rods ringing three times before commencing punishment. He imagined a scene on the street: a woman bowing her head to accept, onlookers accustomed to the sight. He thought to himself: This is more direct and brutal than Earth's laws, yet also more efficient. **Lifelong Covenants and Awakening Rituals:** Lifelong Companion Covenants are the highest tier of covenant, binding a Dominant and a Submissive, enhancing the Dominant's spiritual power while strengthening the Submissive's combat abilities. The Awakening Ritual is a mandatory path for Dominants; only through awakening can the covenant's power be activated. The results of the Awakening Ritual are divided into five levels, from lowest to highest: "Glimmer," "Aura," "Flame," "Divine Radiance," and "Miracle." Jack's heart quickened: Lifelong covenants? Sounds like marriage, but with a power bond. Enhancing spiritual and combat abilities? This world actually has supernatural elements. He recalled the original body's frailty: the original Jack had never awakened, which might be why he squandered his fortune. The five levels were like exam scores, familiar to him as a teacher—Glimmer is just passing, Miracle is a perfect score? He had to awaken quickly, or he wouldn't be able to establish himself. **The Meaning of Discipline:** SPANK is not merely punishment but an important ritual for covenant maintenance, symbolizing the Dominant's authority. Administering SPANK correctly can grant the Submissive certain covenant benefits. A failed SPANK or overly lenient discipline can weaken the Dominant's prestige and affect the covenant's efficacy. Jack pondered: The meaning of discipline here is sanctified. Correct execution brings benefits? This is like behaviorist education—rewards and punishments go hand in hand. But failure weakens prestige, making him vigilant: He couldn't be as careless as the original body; he had to master the techniques. As a transmigrator, he wanted to reform this ritual with Earth's educational philosophy—not abuse, but guidance. Jack realized that everything in this world revolved around covenants and order. He needed to master the rules quickly, or he wouldn't survive in this strange world. Memories of Earth served as an anchor, keeping him clear-headed: He was not the original body's prodigal son, but Hu Mingde, someone who believed education could change destiny. Though this world was cruel, perhaps he could bring true fairness through discipline. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, trying to dispel the headache and confusion. Looking at Marian, his gaze gradually became calm and resolute. Her azure eyes stirred a sense of pity within him—she was the first person he needed to protect. "Marian, prepare my clothes." His voice was low but carried an undeniable authority. Marian faltered slightly, then nodded, her movements becoming brisk: "Yes, Young Master." A warmth surged within her: Since the Young Master woke up, he seemed to have changed... gentler? Jack watched her retreating back, making a silent vow: He had to stand up and adapt to this world again. From this moment on, he was no longer an observer but the Master of the Law. Pain would become the key in his hand, opening the door to order. Marian took a deep breath and whispered, "Young Master has already administered his punishment, but as he has not yet mastered his strength, it was insufficient." Her voice, though low, trembled slightly. As she spoke, her cheeks flushed, and the scene of Young Master Jack's punishment flashed through her mind: the warmth of his palm, yet carrying a strange energy that left her with an unprecedented complexity. She knew this report was necessary, but a flicker of unease still welled up within her: how would the Adjutant handle this? She couldn't help but grip the hem of her skirt, her fingernails digging into her palm. The pain brought a sliver of clarity. Isabella nodded slightly, then gestured towards the instrument rack in the center of the room. "Since that is the case, you shall receive the 'Brand of Correction' to supplement your punishment." Her voice was as calm as water, yet carried an undeniable authority. Isabella's mind raced: the Young Master's insufficient punishment could compromise the integrity of the contract. As Adjutant, she had to ensure everything adhered to the rules. At the same time, she felt a flicker of curiosity about Jack's potential—this frail heir, capable of causing a slight redness without training? Perhaps it was a blessing from Goddess Aidabigu. She mused: the Clester family needed a true Dominator, and perhaps this was the turning point. Marian did not hesitate, walking obediently to the rack. The rack stood like an ancient guardian, its wood exuding the fragrance of sandalwood, yet mingled with the faint scent of dried blood, causing her nostrils to twitch. She took a deep breath and unfastened her skirt. As the silk slip fell, it stirred tiny dust motes that danced like stardust in the candlelight. The dust scattered dreamily, flickering with the candle flame. Marian's heart was as chaotic as the dust: pain was imminent, but this was her duty. She slowly lay down on the instrument, her hands and legs secured by leather restraints. The moment the leather straps bit into her wrists, Marian inhaled the ancient scent of sandalwood and blood. The aroma, like the dust of ages, reminded her of the fear she felt during her first punishment as a child. The bronze fangs on the side of the rack pressed into her lower back, forcing her pale buttocks to arch completely. The skin where the candlelight licked glowed with a pearlescent sheen, her exposed buttocks fully revealed in the flickering light. The skin, as white as snow, trembled slightly under the candlelight, and she felt a chill creep up her spine. Isabella retrieved a dark purple vine from a crystal box and flicked it lightly. A sharp whistling sound tore through the air. The sound was like the shriek of a whip cutting through the wind, making Marian's heart race. She thought to herself: here it comes, how much will this hurt? But she forced herself to be submissive—this was the contract, this was order. "Begin." "Crack!" The shriek of the vine tearing through the air and the dull thud of flesh meeting impact exploded simultaneously. Marian's pupils contracted to pinpricks. A clear red mark instantly bloomed on her skin, like a scarlet mandrake unfurling on a snowfield. The impact burned like fire, the pain shooting from her buttocks into her nerves, causing her entire body to tremble. She choked back a whimper, tasting the metallic tang of blood seeping from between her teeth, and forced herself to speak: "One... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." Her mind was a tempest: the first strike was this painful, how would she endure the remaining nine? "Crack!" The second vine fell, a second mark appearing perfectly parallel to the first. The pain surged like a tide, causing fine sweat to bead on her forehead. She gritted her teeth and counted: "Two... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." Young Master Jack's face flashed in her mind: his punishment had been gentle, yet warm; this was cold, rigid rule. The moment the third "Crack!" landed, Marian's buttocks felt as if pricked by needles. She let out a low moan but suppressed it. The red marks painted themselves in parallel lines. She thought: this is a reminder that the contract allows no slack. "Three... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." The fourth strike was heavier, the pain like an electric shock, her body spasming slightly. Sweat trickled down her temples. She recalled her family's training from childhood: obedience was the path to survival. "Four... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." As the fifth strike fell, she felt her buttocks tear, blood seeping out. The pain was like a knife's edge, yet it made her more lucid. "Five... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." A flicker of resilience surged within Marian: for the Young Master, I must endure. The sixth "Crack!" shrieked, her pupils widening, the red mark etched deeper. She whimpered softly but immediately counted: "Six... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." She thought: the Adjutant is precise as a machine; this is her duty. The seventh strike was like thunder, the pain shooting into her spine. Her fingertips dug into the leather. "Seven... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." The Young Master's holy mark appeared in her mind: perhaps he would become a great Dominator. The eighth strike landed, her buttocks burning like fire. Tears welled in her eyes. "Eight... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." She forced herself to think: this pain is a reminder, the solemnity of the contract. The ninth strike landed precisely parallel, bloodstains blooming like mandrakes. Her voice choked: "Nine... Thank you for your punishment, Adjutant." She prayed inwardly: it's almost over. The familiar fluctuation in the air returned. Golden motes of light gathered in his palm, but this time, they didn't stretch into a ruler. Instead, they swirled and intertwined, emitting a crisp sound like grinding metal. "Swish—" A pure golden, semi-transparent chain slowly emerged from the void. It was about the thickness of a thumb, with intricate inscriptions covering each link. One end of the chain was held in Jack's hand, while the other end, as if alive, writhed in the air, exuding a suffocating sense of pressure. **[Chain of Order]** "Success!" Renette exclaimed excitedly. "This is the 'Binding' form! Its magical density is higher than the ruler, and... it carries a kind of compulsory sealing effect." Jack held the chain, feeling as if he were grasping a golden dragon. With a thought, the chain shot out, precisely coiling around a chair in the center of the room. "Crack!" With a slight exertion of force from Jack, the solid wooden chair instantly splintered into pieces. "Such power..." Alicia's pupils contracted. As a warrior, she could discern the terrifying nature of this attack. It wasn't just physical strangulation; it carried a mental suppression. If it were wrapped around a person... "More than that." Jack wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, clearly finding this form more taxing than the ruler. "I feel it has deeper uses. For example... not just destruction, but control, suppressing all will to resist." He turned to Renette. "Renette, I want to test its 'binding' effect. I need your cooperation." Renette nodded without hesitation. "Of course, Young Master Jack. What do you need me to do?" "Wait." Just as Renette was about to step forward, Alicia, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. She emerged from the shadows, her long golden hair gleaming with a cold, alluring luster under the light. She looked at Jack, then at Renette, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes. Ever since Renette had willingly offered herself to channel magic yesterday, Alicia had keenly sensed a palpable aura forming between Jack and Renette, one she couldn't penetrate. The unspoken understanding forged through the intermingling of pain and magic made her, the official "Guide," feel an unprecedented sense of crisis. If she didn't do something, she would be marginalized. "This high-intensity test, Renette's body can't handle it." Alicia walked to the center of the room, tilted her chin up, and met Jack's gaze directly. "She's a mage, with a frail physique. If it gets out of control, you'll hurt her." "So?" Jack raised an eyebrow, seemingly guessing what she was about to say. "So, I'll do it." Alicia's voice was firm and clear. She unbuttoned her casual jacket and tossed it aside, revealing her form-fitting white shirt and dark short skirt underneath. This attire perfectly outlined her rigorously trained, explosive curves. "I'm a warrior, I have battle qi protecting me, my tolerance is ten times stronger than hers." Alicia stared directly at the golden chain in Jack's hand, her eyes not filled with fear, but burning with a palpable fighting spirit. "And... I also want to personally experience the power that strikes fear into my foolish rivals – the Carlson family – just how strong is it?" Jack looked at her. He understood the emotion in her eyes. It wasn't about avenging relatives (she had no affection for Felix, and they even harbored animosity due to family competition), but a stubborn refusal to yield, and a disguised "seeking." She was demanding equal, or even deeper, attention. "Are you sure?" The chain in Jack's hand vibrated slightly, emitting a dangerous hum. "This is no game. Once bound by the 'Chain of Order,' your battle qi will be suppressed, and your body will be completely beyond your control. You will experience utter helplessness." "Enough talk." Alicia turned around, her back to Jack, her hands clasped behind her back, assuming a posture of surrender. "Come on, Young Master Jack. Let's see if you can... bind me." Her back was straight and proud, her waist, easily grasped, flowed into the graceful curve of her hips beneath the short skirt. Even in this "request for punishment," she maintained a queenly aura. A smile played on Jack's lips. If you want to play, I'll play with you. "As you wish." "Swish!" The golden chain shot out like a serpent from its den, instantly crossing the distance. Alicia felt a tightening around her body. Before she could react, the chain had wrapped around her wrists, then snaked upwards, as if with a mind of its own, over her arms, her waist, and finally circled her upper thighs before tightening with a snap! "Mmph!" Alicia let out a muffled groan, instantly losing her balance. Just as Jack had said, the moment the chain touched her skin, her battle qi felt frozen, completely unmovable. Her proud strength vanished in an instant. "Thump." Her knees buckled, and she fell onto the carpet. With a thought from Jack, the chain extended further, creating a golden anchor point on the ceiling. The chain passed through the anchor, hoisting Alicia's hands high above her head. Her body was forced to straighten, her chest pushed forward, while her lower body remained in a kneeling position. It was an extremely humiliating, yet aesthetically pleasing pose, perfectly showcasing her feminine grace and warrior's resilience. "Is... is that it?" Alicia panted, a flush spreading across her face. She hadn't expected to not even have a chance to struggle. "This is just the beginning." Jack walked behind her. He didn't use the ruler. Instead, he used the remaining end of the chain in his hand to lightly whip Alicia's buttocks. "Crack!" The golden energy lashed against the fabric. Even through her skirt, the sensation, a mix of tingling and stinging, instantly spread through her entire body. "Ah!" Alicia cried out briefly, her body trembling violently. "The Chain of Order is not just for binding; it is also an instrument of punishment." Jack's voice sounded in her ear, low and dangerous. "It amplifies your senses. Your skin's sensitivity is now triple its normal level." "You... you pervert..." Alicia bit her lip, but her voice carried a trembling hint of seduction. "Pervert?" Jack chuckled. "In class, didn't you mock me for not daring to use it? Now, I'm showing my Guide my learning results." "Crack!" Another whip. This time, the force was slightly increased. Alicia's body arched violently, like a drawn bow. The sensation of electricity coursing through her nerves made her scalp tingle. It wasn't just pain, but an indescribable, utterly conquered pleasure rising from the base of her spine. Is this... what Renette felt yesterday? Is this what it feels like to submit to a stronger person? She had always believed she needed an equal partner, or a husband she could control. But at this moment, bound completely, stripped of all ability to resist, trembling under Jack's lashes, she realized that what she craved deep down was to be dominated. To be utterly dominated by a man who was stronger, more ruthless, and more skilled than her. "Jack..." Her voice softened, no longer that of a haughty young lady, but of a woman craving attention. "A... a little harder..." The auction platform stood at the very center of the hall, a massive cage reinforced with magic. Faint, dark red bloodstains, belonging to some unknown soul, still clung to its bars. Presiding over the scene outside the cage was a gaunt goblin-hybrid in a tuxedo. He possessed pointed ears and a pair of murky, yet shrewd, small eyes. In his hand, he brandished a small, glass-studded whip, a symbol of dominion. His voice, sharp and grating, amplified by magic, cut through the din like metal scraping glass, piercing every ear. "Tonight, the 'Shadowed Corridor' presents an unprecedented feast for all of you! As you all know, in this world where the feminine reigns supreme and women vastly outnumber men, an ordinary submissive is hardly a rarity. Toss a brick on any street, and you'll hit a woman willing to bow her head for survival. But—" He deliberately drew out the last syllable, his murky eyes glinting with cunning and cruelty, like a lure for a pack of hungry wolves. "Those 'discarded goods' born of noble lineage, highly educated, who once wielded powerful contractual magic—they are the rare treasures, the ones sought after but seldom found! Though they have lost the protection of their contracts, though the rules have stripped them of their power, that inherent arrogance, that dignity of once being on high… isn't that precisely what you all most desire to shatter with your own hands, to trample beneath your feet and ravage at will?" A wave of knowing laughter erupted from the crowd below, interspersed with whistles and lewd shouts. These sounds coalesced into a torrent of malice. "Enough with the preamble! Bring out the merchandise! My whip is already thirsty!" a burly slave trader with a brutish face roared impatiently, slamming his goblet onto the table and splashing wine. "As you wish! Esteemed guests!" The host bowed exaggeratedly, his face a mask of obsequious smiles. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he gestured towards the darkness behind him. The heavy groan of a winch echoed, and the floor of the iron cage slowly opened with a rusty screech. Three raggedly dressed, vacant-eyed maidens were roughly shoved forward by several bare-chested brutes. Heavy, magic-nullifying shackles adorned their wrists and ankles. The black metal dug deep into their tender skin, leaving raw, bloody welts that clanked with each step. Their necks were bare, the places where family crests or contract collars should have rested now marked only by a ring of bruised flesh—the remnants of forcibly severed contracts, proof of their fall from grace, and the rules' cruelest brand upon the "abandoned." The first maiden possessed hair that should have been a fiery cascade of crimson, but now lay tangled and dull like withered grass, matted with dirt and grime. Her eyes were hollow, her soul seemingly long dead, leaving behind only a walking shell. "Behold this one! A collateral descendant of the Sunset family, once a renowned magical prodigy within their ranks!" The host used the tip of his whip to lift the maiden's chin, forcing her to reveal a face, though soiled, that still bore delicate features. "Alas, due to the family's ruin, her father gambled away all their assets, and she became collateral. Though her magical circuits have been sealed by the creditor with forbidden arts, rendering her unable to cast even a simple fireball, imagine the pleasure of having a former prodigy mage kneel at your feet, using those hands that once wove spells to polish your boots, to serve you tea, or even… for more intimate favors?" "One thousand gold!" The slave trader was the first to raise his paddle, his eyes gleaming with a beastly light, as if he already envisioned the maiden struggling beneath him. "Fifteen hundred!" a voice from a shadowy corner, belonging to a wizened old man, followed closely. His voice was hoarse, like a viper's hiss. "Two thousand!" Bids erupted, like vultures circling carrion. The price climbed relentlessly, each increment a hammer blow against the maiden's last vestiges of dignity. She stood there, still vacant, as if the surrounding clamor was irrelevant, as if she were merely an inanimate object. Yet, her hands, hanging at her sides, dug their nails deep into her palms, blood silently dripping from between her fingers onto the grimy cage floor, splashing in tiny crimson droplets. Under the rules of this world, submissives stripped of their contractual bonds and family protection were less than commoners. They were cargo, playthings, consumables—the most abject beings on this continent. In a shadowed corner on the second floor of the auction house, two figures cloaked in black, their faces entirely hidden by hoods, watched the scene with cold detachment. They were like specters, detached observers, out of place in this boisterous arena of desire. "Is this what they call 'order'?" one of them murmured, a hint of barely perceptible mockery and ice in his voice. "The laws of the goddess Aidabigu are as fragile as waterlogged paper in the face of desire and greed. They are decaying from within, without any external force." "Decay is the nourishment for rebirth," the other replied, his voice raspy, as if his throat contained coarse gravel, imbued with an unsettling fervor. "It is precisely because of order's decay that our Lord's power finds cracks to seep through. Watch, these despair, this fear, this repressed resentment pushed to its absolute limit… they are the most delicious offerings in this world." "After tonight, this wasteland will no longer be peaceful. Those abandoned souls will become the vanguard of our Lord's return." Meanwhile, half a day's journey from the underground black market, deep within the desert, a fierce wind howled, whipping up sandstorms that obscured the stars and moon. This was true no-man's-land, where even the hardiest of shrubs struggled to survive. A heavy prison carriage, pulled by six heavily armored horned horses, lumbered forward along the rugged trade route. Its wheels ground over loose stones, emitting a grating friction that was unnervingly loud in the desolate silence of the wasteland. This carriage was unlike ordinary slave transports. Its entire carriage was cast from "Demon-Sealing Black Iron," a material exceedingly rare in this region. It was pitch black, exuding a chilling aura that repelled all life. The carriage's surface was etched with countless dense, pulsating runes that glowed with a dark crimson light. Each rune throbbed continuously, like hungry mouths greedily siphoning the stamina and mental energy of its occupants, keeping them in a state of extreme weakness, incapable of mustering any strength. Surrounding the carriage was a squadron of fully armed elite cavalry. They wore uniform black steel armor, were taciturn, and their gazes were vigilant. The long spears in their hands glinted coldly in the night. It was clear they were escorting no ordinary cargo. Inside the carriage, a deathly silence reigned, broken only by heavy, suppressed breaths. Three women slumped on the cold iron floor. Their wrists and ankles were tightly bound by specially crafted "Contract-Breaking Chains." These chains were not only incredibly heavy but also constantly emitted faint electrical currents that stimulated the wearer's nerves, blocking all sensory connection to external magic. This rendered them incapable of mustering any will to resist, or even the strength to take their own lives. These were the three lifelong contractual companions of Lord Reinhardt von Elson, once the terror of the northern territories, hailed as the "Sword of Karsus." Seated furthest inside was Elvira von Agris. She had been Reinhardt's first companion, the commander of the border knight order, a female knight at the peak of third-tier power, who had once been invincible on countless battlefields. Her hair, once as lustrous as molten gold, a symbol of honor and strength, was now dull and lifeless, a tangled mess falling around her shoulders, obscuring half her face. Her face, once the object of countless border youths' dreams, noble and spirited, was now as pale as paper, her lips cracked and bleeding, her eye sockets sunken. Yet, even in this state, even confined within this filthy carriage, her back instinctively remained ramrod straight, as if it were her last bastion of dignity, her final stand as a knight. However, the blue eyes, once filled with unwavering faith and as brilliant as sapphires, had long lost their loyalty and love for their lord. In their place was a dead, icy sea, and within that sea, a storm was brewing, capable of devouring all. To her left, curled up, was Cecilia, clad in tattered leather armor. Compared to Alicia's familiarity, Renette was a first-timer in such a place. As soon as they entered, seeing the variety of whips, gags, and restraints hanging on the walls, Renette's small face instantly turned pale, and she instinctively hid behind Jack. "Young Master Jack... are we buying these?" Her voice trembled. "Don't be afraid," Jack soothed. "These are for those without emotional foundations. What we're buying are auxiliary tools to help us 'cultivate'." "Welcome! Ah, it's Young Master Jack and the young lady!" The shopkeeper was still enthusiastic, but this time his attitude was tinged with genuine reverence. After all, the news of Jack awakening the "Divine" trait had spread throughout the city, and he was now a true top-tier noble. "Take us to the best VIP room," Jack commanded expertly. "Bring out all the magic artifacts you have in stock that are suitable for 'multi-person collaborative cultivation'." The phrase "multi-person collaborative cultivation" made both Alicia and Renette blush intensely. Inside the VIP room, the lighting was dim and intimate. The shopkeeper entered, carrying several exquisite brocade boxes, which he opened one by one. "This is the latest model of 'Mana Resonance Rings'," the shopkeeper said, picking up a pair of silver metal rings. "They can be worn on the wrists or... ankles of the submissive. When the dominant injects mana, it generates high-frequency vibrations, which not only restrict movement but also stimulate acupoints, accelerating mana circulation." "And this is the 'Starlight Whip'," the shopkeeper continued, picking up a transparent whip that emitted a faint glow. "It's softer than ordinary Oath Vines, and it won't leave permanent scars when it strikes the body, but the pain is more acute, and... with each strike, beautiful starlight will bloom. It's very suitable for... ah, I mean, for daily discipline." Jack picked up the Starlight Whip and swung it through the air. "Swish—" The sound of the whip cutting through the air was crisp and pleasant. "Want to try?" Jack looked at the two women. Renette looked at the strange props, feeling both ashamed and terrified. But Alicia took a deep breath and stepped forward. "I'll try," Alicia gritted her teeth and unbuttoned her uniform jacket. In this private space, they no longer needed to hide anything. Alicia turned around, placed her hands on the back of the sofa, bent slightly, and lifted her short skirt. Her ice silk underwear, adorned with a large bow, was exposed to the air. Beneath the bow, the faint red marks left from yesterday were vaguely visible. "Last time I was here, I was an observer, watching others be punished," Alicia's voice trembled slightly, but there was more determination in it, a complete surrender. "Now, it's my turn." "Here?" Jack asked. "Yes. You only know if a magic artifact is effective when it strikes the body." Jack walked behind her. Without making her remove her underwear, he gently swung the Starlight Whip through the thin fabric. "Crack!" The whip struck the bow, and the force transmitted through the cloth to her buttocks. "Ah!" Alicia gasped. Just as the shopkeeper had said, the pain was incredibly acute, with a tingling sensation like an electric current that instantly spread throughout her body. And the spot that was struck actually lit up with a faint burst of starlight, a strangely beautiful sight. "How does it feel?" "So... so strange..." Alicia panted, her eyes misting over. "It hurts, but... that tingling sensation... it feels like it's stirring up the battle qi within me... And seeing that starlight explode on my own body, there's a... a shamefully beautiful feeling." "Then it's effective." Jack nodded with satisfaction and then looked at Renette. Renette was already sitting obediently on the sofa, having put the pair of "Mana Resonance Rings" on her ankles. Jack extended a finger and touched the ring, injecting a trace of holy power. "Buzz—" The silver rings instantly lit up and began to vibrate at high frequency. "Mmm—!" Renette's legs tensed, and her toes curled. The vibration shot up her calves to her thighs, giving her an indescribable, exhilarating sensation, as if all her mana was being churned. "This... this is too stimulating..." Renette looked at Jack with teary eyes. "Can you... go a little lighter?" "This is for your own good," Jack grinned wickedly and increased the output. "Tonight, when we get back, we'll use these to 'cultivate'." In the end, they bought a large pile of "toys": the Starlight Whip, the Resonance Rings, several bottles of essential oils with different attribute buffs, and even a set of soft cushions specifically designed for fixing postures.