The Quest Is Simply To NTR All The Heroes - Chapter 278

Chapter 278: Don’t Read. Come Back Later
The fool who was about to be bewitched by the evil witch snapped back to reality when he heard the all-too-familiar sound he’d been enduring non-stop for the past half hour.

PrrrRrrrrrRRR~ Crackle~ Druuummm~

Kris’s massive wet fart, perfectly synchronized with the lightning and thunder, jolted Axel back to his senses like a slap from a wet fish.

If it wasn’t for the thunderclap, Kris’s thunderous ass-clap would have alerted Layla to the hiding man and, more importantly, to the volcanic eruption happening in her bathroom.

‘Damn, this bitch really is a bitch.’

Axel thought, grateful for his friend’s anal orchestra and cursing the girl who now crouched on the ground with her hands over her ears, trying to hide from the thunder. With her crouching down, she didn’t see Axel’s angry face, twisted in a mix of disgust and frustration.

‘Maybe even Brent is under a spell; that’s not far-fetched at all. Literally, from what Kris has told me, the guy is either a manipulative asshole with an acting degree or a complete fool. There’s no in-between.’

He decided to deal with Brent later and focus on the temptress in front of him, whose breasts were practically spilling out of her simple summer dress like two eager puppies trying to escape.

Axel took a deep breath, looked away, and spoke in a condescending manner, trying to channel his inner judge from a reality TV court show.

“Abusive, huh? You’re telling me that Kris, the guy who treats you like a literal princess, is abusive? Layla, I’ve known that guy for over fifteen years. We might not be besties, but I know what he is… and an abuser is not one of them.”

Layla shuddered at his words and looked up, her eyes red from crying. Axel wasn’t sure if it was from the fear of thunderclaps or just a cheap trick to deceive him again.

Her tears seemed as genuine as a soap opera star’s, but he had to quickly look away because her breasts were practically screaming for his attention like neon signs in Vegas.

He wasn’t that guy. He never would be.

“Yo-you don’t believe me?”

Her puppy eyes were back, and she slowly stood up like a damsel in distress, with the dramatic flair of a soap opera star caught in a windstorm.

“Y-you won’t believe me? I w-will show you the evidence. I will show you what he has done to me…”

Layla’s voice was frantic, like a squirrel that had just lost its stash of nuts. She genuinely looked like a victim of domestic abuse, making Axel raise his eyebrows in confusion.

When a woman is standing in front of you, crying and all, claiming she has evidence of abuse, even if you know she’s a certified drama queen, you might still feel compelled to believe her.

And that’s exactly what was happening to Axel.

‘Ain’t no way, right? Fatty ain’t that deranged, right?’

Doubt began to creep into his mind, but when Layla literally grabbed one of her boobs that was spilling out of her dress and thrust it towards him, Axel’s brain glitched like a computer trying to process too many tabs at once. It was like his entire system shut down because of the boobs… which, let’s be honest, happens to a lot of men.

“Lo-look here. Look at this?”

Layla’s desperate voice rang in his ears, but Axel wasn’t about to fall for it. He had to bite his lip to suppress his emotions, focusing on anything but the booby trap right in front of him.

‘What the fuck did fatty do to her boobs? Did he try to drink from them when he was thirsty? Did he think they were fluffy cakes when he was hungry, huh?’

All sorts of wild thoughts were stampeding through Axel’s head like a herd of buffalo. He couldn’t even fathom that someone would hurt those two heavenly mounds.

And as far as he knew, fatty was a loser and an idiot who never tried anything with this absolute stunner of a woman. When asked, Kris had said something about staying pure until marriage or some other bullshit.

It seemed like Layla got bored and went looking for someone else. For fatty, even hand-holding was the equivalent of hardcore lovemaking in his silly mind.

That’s why Kris was heartbroken when he saw Layla and Brent holding hands, and it looked like his assumptions were indeed correct.

“Look here… please…” Layla pleaded, her voice desperate enough to make a soap opera star jealous.

“No. I ain’t looking at them, Layla. Leave me alone.”

Axel retorted, his eyes fixed on the white ceiling like it was the last sanctuary of sanity. He was glad there was at least something white and untouched by Kris… yet.

“How are you gonna know if he hasn’t abused me or not if you refuse to look at them!”

Layla’s sweet voice rose in annoyance, but Axel refused to look at her boobs. He stood there like a statue, more rigid than a deer caught in headlights.

“Don’t you have any other mark somewhere else that I can look at…?”

Axel replied, his voice dripping with irritation as he tried to look anywhere but at Layla. He hated her, yet her voice, her face, and especially those boobs were like magnets pulling him in.

This current situation, with boobs literally thrown at his face like a cheat sheet during an exam, was testing him to the limit.

Suddenly, he felt two small, cold, and delicate hands clasping his cheeks. Before he could register what was happening, his face was yanked downward like a marionette in a puppet show.

“Hey, hey, wait a minute! What the hell are you doing?” Axel yelped, his voice an octave higher as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

?!

And the scene that awaited him made his eyes nearly pop out of his head. It was like stumbling upon a hidden treasure chest full of visual gold. Two huge pale mounds. Nope, not just huge, but perfect, soft pillows with the consistency of fluffy cake, adorned with red areolas so cute they made Axel question if God had drawn them personally.

They were round by design, but gravity pulled them slightly downward, making them look even more natural and, therefore, more irresistible. And like cherries on top of an ice cream sundae, two inverted pink nipples peeked out as if to say, ‘Hi!’

“!!!!”

“Look here… they are my wounds… He slapped and pinched my boobs till they became like this…” Layla said in a trembling, scared voice.

But all Axel could see was the perfect creation of gods, devoid of any scratches or signs that any asshole had ever laid a finger on them. Seriously, there was nothing there at all.

Axel was too busy taking mental screenshots, appreciating the divine artistry, and wondering if he’d just wandered into some heavenly version of a cheesecake factory.

“What are you talking about, Layla? They are perfect—I mean, your skin- nipples look fabulous—I mean! THERE ARE NO MARKS OR PINCHED SCARS AT ALL!”

Axel wanted to scream into her ear and slap some sense into her to tell this drama queen how much she was overacting. But he didn’t want any unwanted ideas popping into her head. After all, he was winning here anyway.

Then, all of a sudden, he heard her voice again. But it wasn’t the cutesy voice she just had; it was entirely different, a tone that made him raise his eyebrows.

“Oh? You don’t see them? Look closely, Axel dear…”