Sylvie, the Slave Girl (Lily Futa) - Chapter 4
A game was crafted meticulously with stunning visuals and diverse clothing options.
Players unlocked various poses and scenes based on choices and intimacy levels.
The game had an 18+ adult title; it was called Slave Girl Sylvie.
Wei Qing realized why she felt that familiar sensation earlier.
The sudden visit from the merchant, the scarred girl, and all the dialogue matched the game’s opening cutscene perfectly, word for word.
In the game, the person who took in this pitiful little girl and repeatedly did unspeakable things to her was Wei Qing’s current role—the clinic’s owner, a doctor more symbolic than practical.
If this were a proper clinic, Wei Qing wondered how anyone found time to indulge freely day and night.
But could such things be programmed?
She initially thought naively that the clinic’s business might be struggling.
More importantly, wasn’t she female?
So why did they give her a c0ck?
Wei Qing’s chest heaved slightly.
She gripped the wall, trembled noticeably.
This adult game was insane.
She pondered the connection between this ridiculous game and the thing between her legs.
Wei Qing ground her back teeth.
The phrase “cut it off myself” flashed in her mind vividly.
Back then, she was bored and goaded by friends; she followed a game link sent with a sleazy dog emoji.
She played for half a month to pass the time, rolling her eyes.
She tried both game routes: the explicit route and the dress-up route.
The game wasn’t on app stores, and browsers flagged it as risky.
The explicit route was repetitive—endless, animalistic encounters anytime, anywhere.
After two days, she found it dull and boring; playing it as a dress-up game was far more interesting.
The game’s clothes, from qipaos to sailor outfits to lacy lingerie, were drawn exquisitely and beautifully.
She had to give the artist credit, setting aside everything else.
The female protagonist’s design was striking.
The girl’s pale, frail body and innocent yet hesitant expression contrasted sharply with her shy blush and the vivid brutal scars on her skin.
The game played on contrasts, giving the character a tragic, pitiable backstory.
Players acted as her savior, rescuing and healing a slave with a grim past.
It was cliché but oddly compelling.
The game tapped into certain niche preferences effectively.
Wei Qing’s emotions were complex.
The shock of a 2D character becoming a living, breathing person was jarring.
Why did others cross into novels for revenge or romance, knowing the plot and charming characters, while she, with her stunning looks and wealthy background, landed in an 18+ adult game?
She deserved a protagonist’s triumphant storyline, she fumed angrily.
The man says, “You’re doing me and her a huge favor.”
He continues, “This girl is a slave with no family. You can have her do chores or treat her like a toy—no one will judge. I’ll take my leave now. Thanks again for your help that day.”
Wei Qing smiled and listened to him finish the familiar lines.
She replied politely, “Alright, stay safe on your way.”
The man tipped his hat, nodded to her, and left promptly.
Wei Qing stood still and reflected on life briefly.
—
The morning air felt fresh.
The clinic sat in the city center, near a round plaza surrounded by lush greenery.
The sky shone bright and blue.
Few people passed by at this hour, but some glanced curiously in her direction occasionally.
Wei Qing glanced at the girl standing quietly at the door.
She felt a faint headache.
She stepped aside and signaled with a look for the girl to come inside.
Her heart felt heavy, and she didn’t want to speak.
The girl hesitated briefly, then walked toward her slowly with her head lowered.
Wei Qing was taller than her.
She raised an eyebrow in surprise.
From behind, the girl looked even thinner and frailer.
She seemed quite pitiful.
Wei Qing closed the door casually.
She stayed silent for a moment, then regretted it quickly.
The enclosed space made the presence of another person starkly obvious.
Did she really have to accept her?
Wei Qing wondered.
What should she do now to move the story forward?
This silly game barely had a plot to follow.
The rich heiress had a million complaints in her head.
She kept her face calm, walked to the side, and picked up a cup of tea she brewed earlier to cool her frustration.
She burned her tongue.
She choked suddenly.
“Cough… cough, cough, cough!” she sputtered.
Wei Qing coughed messily, overwhelmed by complex emotions.
She didn’t notice the girl left behind subtly shift her body, observing her discreetly.
Under dense eyelashes, the girl’s eyes held a hint of coldness.
Women’s body curves always appeared soft.
Wei Qing wiped her jaw with bent fingers.
Water trickled through her pale knuckles, dripping down her chin.
Her eyes reddened slightly from the irritation, glistening with a watery sheen.
She looked harmless and beautiful—or rather, very beautiful.