Reincarnated With The Degenerate System

"Again," I said quietly. "Breathe in."

She obeyed—but too fast.

The energy rushed in too fast instead of moving smoothly. It slammed into a hard knot just above her thighs, like water hitting a blocked pipe.

Alexa sucked in a deep breath. Her chest expanded, and the sudden pain made her bite her lip to keep from giving in to the sensation.

That only made me more competitive. I sent another jolt of energy, aimed straight at her lower dantian.

However, because that area also governed her egg-producing organ , the surge created an overwhelming sense of pressure deep inside her body—like something expanding where there was no room for it.

"I… I feel strange," she gasped.

"Relax. I'm adjusting your internal flow. Your body needs to adapt before it can grow stronger."

Without waiting for her reply, I sent another wave —this time directing it toward her upper dantian, the center near her chest.

Her fingers clawed at the mat as her back arched, spine bowing off the floor, presenting herself to the force overwhelming her.

A sheen of sweat slicked her skin instantly, and I could smell it from where I knelt—the clean, salty scent of her effort, tinged with the sharp, floral notes of her shampoo.

It was a scent of exertion, but underneath it, something else was beginning to bloom, something musky and sweet

"There," I breathed, my own focus sharpening. "That's it."

I didn't pull back. I pressed in.

The energy moved like a grinding current now, forcing its way through channels that weren't ready.

Her breathing shattered into ragged, desperate pants. Her legs began to tremble violently, knees sliding apart as her control evaporated, an involuntary invitation.

Her face was flushed, and her ears burned bright red as blood rushed to her head. I could tell she wanted to speak, but the dizziness and overwhelming sensation left her too disoriented to form words.

"Don't fight it. Fighting only makes it worse."

Another sound escaped her—higher, thinner. It was a moan, pure and simple, and she looked embarrassed when she heard it echo in the room.

"I—I can't—" she choked out, her body already betraying her.

A single drop of sweat traced a path from her temple down her neck, disappearing into the collar of her shirt, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to taste it, to taste the salt of her skin.

"You can," I cut in. "You will."

I intensified the flow, a focused, spiraling pressure right against that core, until the resistance finally shattered.

"Nooooo!" she cried out.

It wasn't a crack; it was an orgasmic release that ripped through her. Her body jolted as if struck by lightning, and then she was shaking, convulsing, her legs giving out completely as she collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat and sobbing for air.

A second later, the room went still. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the dark, wet patch that had bloomed across the front of her black pants, spreading down her inner thigh.

Alexa's face went bone-white, then flooded with a burning, humiliated red. She scrambled to her feet and fled for the bathroom, leaving the scent of her orgasm hanging in the room like a ghost.

"Next!" I shouted, turning my attention to Rhea, the Seeker whose core ability revolved around fire.

Her amber eyes flicked away from mine, and she began fidgeting nervously.

"Master Ace… can I go last?" she asked with a low voice. Gone was her confident demeanor.

"No. That won't work. If you try to skip now, I'll remove you from this training altogether."

Rhea swallowed hard, her hands clenching at her sides. She knew I wasn't bluffing.

"Y-Yes, Master Ace," she murmured, finally meeting my gaze. Her shoulders stiffened as she stepped forward—and then froze.

I watched as she lowered herself to the floor, hesitating for just a moment before sitting down… right on the same damp spot Alexa had left behind only moments ago.

"Master can we…" she stammered, glancing at me, then down at the floor. Her usual confidence faltered, replaced by a flush creeping up her neck.

I ignored her.

"Focus on your body, not the floor. The sensation you'll feel isn't comfortable—but that's how strength grows. Endure it, don't fight it."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as I prepared to send the energy through her meridians.

The other girls watched silently, some with curiosity, others with barely concealed apprehension.

The wet patch on the floor was a stark reminder of the price of pushing limits—and the path they needed to walk in order to gain more power.

"Ready?"

Rhea's lips pressed together, and she gave a faint nod. Her body tensed, waiting for the surge that would test her control, patience, and endurance.

What happened next mirrored Alexa's experience—energy surging through her, muscles trembling, breath hitching—but the reactions of the others were far more interesting.

Four of them were heavy squirters. Not the gentle, misty kind you see in porn, but a full-on, drenching flood.

So I decided to give them one last personal one-on-one meeting until they recover.

To them it was just me giving them advice.

But beneath the calm cadence of my voice, I was weaving something else entirely.

It was a subtle but deliberate measure: by guiding their minds this way, I made it impossible for them to recall the sensations of the breathing technique when speaking to outsiders.

Even if they tried, the memory of the energy flow, the pressure, the internal shifts—they simply couldn't describe it.

The technique became a secret locked inside their own bodies, accessible only when they practiced under the right conditions. No words could betray it, no gestures could reveal it.

Right now, cultivation was an entirely different kind of power. And I had no intention of revealing it to the world—not yet.

Not until I am powerful enough to take on the whole country.

Only then would the world be ready to see it.