10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 90- Kidnapped By Perverts

"What happened?" Ytrisia asked, her body tensing, still staring at him in confusion. Everyone, including the driver, seemed taken aback by his sudden, panicked voice—but without a second of delay, the heavy engine roared, and the car sped dangerously fast toward the airport.

Cruxius, seeing their alarmed state, inwardly smirked. But on the surface, he showed clear, desperate urgency. "Dr. Seleyena is in danger!? Thalia’s mother had sent a supervillain for Seleyena!"

"Huh? But Master, why... I see."

Darithi, sitting quietly up front, found the Hispanic district mention to be strange. The statement she heard was highly confusing, especially considering what had actually happened in the hospital regarding that supervillain who could enhance traits.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the direct involvement of Dr. Seleyena.

However, recognizing the flawless act, she could see right through her master. She halted her question, swallowing her words as she straightened her posture and fixed her gaze strictly on the road ahead, playing her part perfectly.

This left only Ytrisia in a state of genuine, terrified shock.

Far away in Northeastern Europe.

The black sedan glided across the empty highway, its polished body catching the cool, early glints of the dawning sun.

Inside, the air hummed with a quiet, heavy tension, matching the isolating silence of the road stretching endlessly ahead.

Dr. Seleyena sat behind the wheel, one slender hand loosely gripping the leather, the other holding a phone pressed tightly to her ear.

She wore her hospital attire still—her pristine white coat hung unbuttoned to reveal a crisp, slightly sheer blouse that clung to the mature swell of her breasts. It was tucked tightly into a tailored black pencil skirt. The restrictive fabric of the skirt had ridden dangerously high up her smooth, bare thighs as she drove. Her heels were off, tossed carelessly onto the passenger seat, leaving her nylon-clad toes to flex softly against the floorboard pedals.

Her glasses sat slightly crooked on the elegant bridge of her nose, and her hair, usually pulled back in a strict, no-nonsense bun, had loosened beautifully over the stressful day, letting a few dark strands frame her face.

"Haah..." A heavy sigh slipped from her glossed lips, light and deeply tired.

Her thumb hovered for a hesitant moment before she pressed the call button again.

Beep... Beep...

The cold, automated voice replied—again.

"We are not authorized to connect you with any member of the Blac family. Please refrain from further attempts."

Click.

She stared at the dead screen, her jaw tightening slightly.

The irritation wasn’t new, but this time there was something much more bitter lingering right behind her composed expression.

Her brows furrowed and her elegant fingers found her temple, massaging gently as if she could knead the burning memory away.

"I didn’t mean to accept it," she muttered aloud to the empty car, her eyes glued to the road, her voice low and husky. "I was flustered... I wasn’t thinking."

The words felt painfully thin, even to herself. She wasn’t someone who lost control easily. She was a respected professional.

But back in the hospital cabin, something had utterly broken her clinical rhythm.

The sudden, overwhelming presence of him—the young, dominant heir to the Blac family—had been like a heavy strike to a fragile glass pane.

Upon first seeing the weak girl whose drink was spiked by the arrogant son of the hospital dean, her sister had initially considered Cruxius Blac to be a perverted, entitled man. Even Jake, the dean’s son, had stated the exact same thing.

Then she saw how Cruxius Blac was calmly, ruthlessly trying to take responsibility for his "mistakes"... it all just made her even more confused.

But then—

The image hit her again—clear, vivid, and scorching hot.

Her delicate fingers trembling slightly as they had reached for his tailored pants, sliding the zipper down to let his heavy, thick shaft spring free into her hesitant hands. Her breath had caught painfully in her throat when she realized exactly what she was doing—the sheer, intimidating heat of the part she was holding—only to look up and see those cold, dominant, observing eyes watching her as he firmly, effortlessly ordered her to continue.

A deeply degrading situation where normally, she would have venomously rejected even taking the initiative.

And yet, she hadn’t stopped. She had obeyed.

Seleyena let out a soft, embarrassing groan of self-frustration, her manicured fingers tightening on the leather steering wheel. "What the hell was I thinking..."

Her calm demeanor now was carefully stitched together, a professional mask she knew how to wear very well.

But underneath the crisp blouse and tight skirt, a wet confusion stirred.

Not guilt, exactly, but something dangerously adjacent to arousal.

And the terrifying fact that she couldn’t understand why she had acted so submissively out of character completely unsettled her.

The car began to hum louder as she pressed her nylon-covered foot down, increasing speed slightly, desperately hoping the motion would clear her flushed head.

Just ahead, the road curved sharply around a sparse woodland stretch, the tree shadows falling long and soft over the cold asphalt.

Then—

Headlights flared blindingly bright in her rearview mirror. One car.

Then another.

She blinked, her heart skipping a beat as she reflexively glanced at the side mirrors.

BAM!

The two black SUVs sped up behind her, their heavy engines growling like starved beasts. Within seconds, one swung aggressively into her blind spot, the other overtaking to box her front.

"What the—"

SCREECH.

Seleyena slammed the brakes.

The sedan jolted violently to a stop, her body jerking hard against the seatbelt.

Doors from both SUVs flung open. Men stepped out in swift, practiced motion—dark suits, no faces she recognized, but the heavy, predatory air around them was unmistakably dangerous.

Her breath caught painfully in her throat.

Five. Six men. All moving toward her, their cold eyes locked on her windshield.

She reached frantically for her phone—

Too late.

As her eyes widened in pure disbelief, the driver’s side door was yanked violently open—

And everything went black.

Drip... drip...

A cold droplet landed perfectly on her pale cheek.

SPLASH.

Then the sudden, violent splash of freezing water brought her consciousness clawing back with a jolt.

Seleyena’s eyes shot open.

She gasped, blinking rapidly, her chest heaving as she tried to pull air into her lungs.

’Where am I?’

Her breath fogged the chill air. Her delicate wrists were bound tightly to a rusted metal chair with coarse, thick cable ties that bit ruthlessly into her soft skin, leaving angry red marks. Her ankles were locked to the legs. Her head pounded viciously. Her glasses hung slightly askew on her nose.

She squinted through the dim, flickering light—a warehouse, industrial, grimy, the shadows twitching around her like they had claws.

"Rise and shine, doctor."

A voice, male. Arrogant. Sickly amused.

Then he stepped forward from the dark.

Stimuli.

A mid-tier supervillain who had just received a lucrative contract to kill a particular doctor—one he had once targeted by mistake while completing a job to deal with another woman.

He wore heavy leather and dark metal armor, his face hidden behind a mask shaped like a mocking bat.

His frame was thick, his movements deliberate—oozing a cocky confidence that reeked of rot.

He grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming with unapologetic sadism.

"Haha, what a bitch, we got here..."