The One and Only
It was a scorching summer day—part of a class-wide field trip to a remote hot spring resort in the mountains.
In front of the entire class, a girl shyly handed PhD a tiny plush doll, no bigger than the palm of a hand. The moment he accepted it, the whole class erupted in teasing laughter.
“Awww, they’re dating!”
“They’re such a perfect match!”
They clapped and cheered, egging them on.
Marvel happened to walk by at that moment. He looked at PhD and smiled politely.
“Actually… I think you two do look good together,” he said. “I wish you both happiness.”
Then they passed each other, shoulders brushing.
Back then, Marvel didn’t think much of it.
But now—standing in the present, his eyes flooded with tears—he dove deep into that old memory. He examined every little frame of it, as if rewinding a dream in high resolution.
That’s when he saw something he had missed.
After Marvel turned and walked away, PhD’s expression suddenly collapsed. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks.
And under his breath, he muttered:
“I never wanted to be with her… The one I wanted to be with… was you. Don’t you get it, Marvel?”
Then the memory snapped forward—to a snowy winter’s day.
The streets were blanketed in white. Marvel and PhD crossed paths again by pure chance, both bundled in coats, their breaths misting in the air.
They greeted each other casually.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
PhD had a letter in his hand. He looked at it, hesitated, and tried to pull it out.
But in the end… he couldn’t.
He shoved it back into his coat pocket, quietly swallowing the words he couldn’t say.
Now, Marvel reexamined the memory in sharp detail—zooming in on the envelope in PhD’s hand.
He finally read the words scribbled on the front:
“I love you, Marvel.
From the bottom of my heart,
—Stiffen Hawken.”
Back to the present, beside a trash can on a sunlit city street…
Marvel’s tears wouldn’t stop.
He whispered, again and again through trembling lips:
“So all along… the one and only…
It’s always been me.”
The Beast Within
PhD stood frozen, staring at Marvel as he approached—step by step—like something out of a fever dream.
Sweat poured down PhD’s face. “Hey! Snap out of it!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Nothing ever happened between us, okay? You just accidentally got hit by my Golden Dick’s flash. Those weren’t real memories!”
But Marvel didn’t hear a word. His eyes were misty, his voice trembling with emotion.
“All these years… I ignored you. I never saw the love you had for me. But deep down, I think… I’ve always loved you too, PhD.”
PhD suddenly sensed it—Marvel’s adrenaline was spiking, rising fast like a volcanic eruption.
Marvel’s face began to distort, muscles twitching, eyes gleaming with tears. He had transformed… into a beast.
A weeping beast.
A horny beast.
PhD instinctively backed up several steps, alarm in his voice.
“Hey—HEY—don’t do anything crazy! Don’t do anything… inappropriate!”
He muttered under his breath in panic:
“Holy fuck… I have no idea how to cancel the effects of Golden Dick.”
And then—it happened.
Marvel lunged forward and wrapped PhD in a massive bear hug. PhD tried to dodge, but Marvel’s speed was unnatural—animalistic. Within a second, both of Marvel’s arms locked around PhD’s waist like steel cables. Even PhD’s arms were pinned inside the hug. He couldn’t move.
PhD gritted his teeth and poured every ounce of strength into his hands, but it was no use.
The beast holding him was too strong.
Even someone as powerful as PhD was now no more than a helpless prey caught in the embrace of a passionate, trembling animal.
There was no escape.
The Beastly Passionate Love
Marvel felt the embrace like something he had waited ten years for. He held PhD tightly, as if finally catching hold of a long-lost truth.
PhD tried to wriggle free, but Marvel’s grip was intense—fueled by a strange, emotional energy. It was like trying to contain a beast that had been growing in silence for years. PhD’s arms were pinned, his muscles straining, but he couldn’t break loose.
Suddenly, Marvel dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around PhD’s legs. PhD’s expression shifted drastically.
With his hands now free, PhD struck Marvel’s head repeatedly, but the blows had no effect. Marvel appeared lost in a trance—completely unfazed.
Then came a powerful shove—PhD was slammed against a wall, his arms forced above his head. He was fully restrained, locked in place, unable to gather any strength. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
PhD screamed, “Help! Someone help! This guy’s crazy!” But the street was busy, and in this chaotic Kung Fu world, scenes like this played out daily. No one even glanced.
And then… Marvel leaned in, his tongue moving toward PhD’s most private place.
PhD’s voice cracked. “No—please don’t. Oh my god…”
The Dead End Finale
The whole street was eerily calm, as if nothing had happened. But inside this dead-end alley, the dramatic finale was still raging on.
Marvel’s tongue moved up and down—PhD could feel the tickling sensation. He bit down, holding it in, refusing to make any pleasured sounds. But PhD’s body betrayed him. An elongated, rock-hard erection pushed Marvel back horizontally—about thirty centimeters. The scraping of his shoes on the ground sounded like tires screeching in an emergency brake.
Marvel shouted:
“Machine gun suck!”
His head began thrusting back and forth at a speed like a machine gun—so fast it turned into a blur. PhD kept moaning, sounding almost like a woman. Within ten minutes, they reached the climax.
PhD’s entire body convulsed violently as he let out a final, low moan. For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze. Kneeling before him, Marvel gazed into his eyes with unsettling affection—then swallowed the thick liquid in a single gulp. A large glob slid down his throat, while a smear of semen clung stubbornly to the corner of his mouth.
PhD’s body went limp. In a faint, broken voice, he muttered:
“This… can’t be real… I can’t believe this nightmare actually happened to me…”
The Forbidden Love
Marvel knew—deep down—there was no future between them.
It was a forbidden love.
Beautiful, intense… but doomed.
Without hesitation, he turned around—dropped to all fours, and like a beast, he sprinted into the crowd, limbs flying, heart pounding.
Within moments, he vanished into the city, swallowed by the waves of human life.
Meanwhile, PhD remained where he was.
He slowly dropped to his knees, hands on the ground, head hanging low.
This was the worst day of his life.
In that silence, his mind wandered. He began to recall all the awful things he had done—regrets piling up like shadows, heavy and unshakable.
And somehow… it felt like this was the moment everything had come crashing back.
Not far away, in a small patch of grass, Marvel lay flat on his back—exhausted. His arms and legs were spread wide. He stared up at the blue sky.
He had finally found it.
After all these years… after all the rejections… after being called a pervert over and over again… he had finally discovered the true love buried deep inside his heart.
And that love…
was PhD.
Of course, what Marvel didn’t realize…
was that this was simply the effect of Golden Dick.
But to Marvel, it all felt real. Every thought. Every action. Every emotion.
He had no idea his heart had been hijacked by a forbidden golden technique.
But maybe…
Maybe that didn’t matter.
Because the golden technique was that powerful—so powerful it could rewrite a person’s emotions, their memories, even their destiny.
And maybe, just maybe—
Marvel’s entire life was quietly thrown onto a new track that day.
A track he could never walk back from.
The Fall of a Legend
Since that day, PhD never published another book.
He vanished completely from all public appearances.
He quietly resigned from his university position, and no one ever found out what had happened that day.
No one knew where PhD went.
Some said he had developed PTSD.
Others believed he had finally found happiness—that he and someone special had immigrated to a faraway place, built a house on a beach, and now lived a quiet life by the sea, where the breeze was warm and the flowers always bloomed.
Maybe…
every legend has its time to fall.
But for those who had read his books, who had listened to his lectures, who had once seen him walk proudly through the campus gates—they would always remember him.
Not just as a scholar, but as a master of seduction, a man who understood desire like few ever could.
Not as a broken man, not as a mystery—
but as a brilliant, untamed soul…
who burned too bright for too long.