The system at my disposal was omnipotent. As long as I had the requisite currency, any wish could be granted.
For two hundred points, I procured a kidnapping kit. My initial strategy was to seize Hutch's mother when she was isolated. However, upon reflection, I realized I lacked a secure location to detain her. Thus, I resolved to ambush her the moment she opened her home's door.
As Hutch's mother unlocked her front door, I made my move. Silencing any potential noise around us, I swiftly approached her.
Leveraging my enhanced abilities, I was able to subdue Hutch's mother with ease and without attracting any attention. I quickly bound her, ensuring she couldn't escape.
With her securely bound, I brought her back into the house and locked the door, making sure we were sealed off from any outside intervention.
"Someone, please help! I'm being kidnapped!" She screamed in desperation, but her pleas fell on deaf ears due to the noise-canceling barrier. I gave her a sharp slap on the cheek, silencing her immediately.
"By now, you probably recognize me, but let me formally introduce myself. I'm Finn Grayson, the one who harmed your son." I revealed my identity with complete indifference.
Considering the circumstances, I wasn't about to give her the same opportunity her son had to report me to the authorities.
Terror evident in her eyes, she stuttered, "Wha... Why are you doing this?"
"Well, your son has been a thorn in my side. Don't you believe, as his mother, you should bear some responsibility for his deeds?"
Luckily for me, she has the next two days off. Only Hutch might notice something amiss regarding his mother.
"What do you think I should do to you?" Since she asked earlier, I want to hear her thoughts.
"..."
She remained silent, seemingly paralyzed by the gravity of her predicament. Her reaction was entirely understandable; anyone in her shoes would likely be overwhelmed by fear.
I strolled into the kitchen and picked up a knife, its sharp edge gleaming menacingly. Her already pale face lost even more color upon seeing me approach with the weapon. As I neared her, brandishing the blade, I could feel the points I had expended slowly being restored.
"I'm not going to stab you yet." Suddenly, I saw liquid coming out of her crotch.
"Did you pee yourself? How about I take a picture of it? I'm sure your friends and co-workers would like to see it." Whimpering could be heard, indicating how much humiliation the woman was receiving.
"Do you have any idea what urine tastes like? If not, I could make you experience your own." I had a glove on, located a water bottle, and emptied its contents onto her hair.
It was unfortunate that she hadn't applied any makeup. Otherwise, her age and makeup combination would have been quite comical.
With the bottle now devoid of its contents, I attempted to collect the urine, although it proved challenging due to the flat ground. However, the liquid naturally made contact with the bottle's drinking spout.
"Curious about the taste?" I asked, and the tip of the bottle was now tainted with the yellow liquid. It was a repulsive sight, and no one in their right mind would want to come near it.
She vigorously shook her head, pleading with me to cease my actions. Of course, I had no intention of heeding her requests just because she disliked my gruesome idea.
"Please, I beg you, don't do this!" She pleaded desperately as I brought the bottle nearer to her mouth. Bound and helpless, she had no means of preventing me.
I harbored no compassion or mercy within me. I carried out the agonizing and deliberate process until the tip of the urine-filled bottle made contact with her quivering lips.
[+500 Evil Points]
She longed to cleanse her lips after the vile encounter with the bottle. Despite the interruption caused by the officers knocking on my door, the substantial gain in points had taken precedence.
Witnessing such a remarkable point increase fueled my inclination toward more sadistic techniques. I was determined not to let this momentum wane. After coercing her to kiss the bottle's tip, I proceeded to whisper menacing words into her ears.
Hutch's mother understood the vile suggestion I had made. In this world, prostitution was not an uncommon practice, and while she was elderly, there were people with diverse preferences.
"Please, I implore you to release me. I'm certain that whatever my son did was a misunderstanding," she pleaded with desperation, hoping that her words would sway me. However, mere words were not enough to move me.
"Misunderstanding? Both you and your son are nothing but misunderstandings." I retorted angrily at her words.
I refrained from slapping her, unwilling to touch her lips. Instead, I proposed a different arrangement.
"How about this? If you can manage to sell your body for a million dollars, I'll consider releasing both you and your son," I offered, providing her with an opportunity to demonstrate her commitment. However, my willingness to honor the deal remained questionable.
She hesitated, a reaction expected from any rational person. After all, selling one's body was typically a last-resort option for individuals who still held moral values.
"When I get that money, please let us go," she pleaded, forced into a corner with limited options. Rejecting the offer would likely lead to even graver consequences.
"One month. Your son will be discharged from the hospital by then. You have until that time to secure the one million dollars," I stated firmly. While it was a challenging goal to achieve in such a short period, we both understood that money wasn't the primary concern. What mattered most to Hutch's mother was ensuring her son's safety until he could leave the hospital.