Chapter 6: Remy Fouldes Seems to Be Into Something Kinky

Words : 1825 Updated : Nov 6th, 2025

It wasn't until Remy Fouldes walked away that the crowd finally started whispering, anxious and hushed. "What did he mean?" "Hey, Pipes, where am I staying?" Remy stretched with lazy indifference. Aiden, the old butler, gave a rueful smile and ushered him out of the dining hall toward a separate villa on the east side of the manor. Remy took it all in with a quick glance, then nodded, satisfied. The villa had style with sleek lines, warm lighting, and a private pool shimmering below. As soon as they stepped inside, Aiden began his spiel. "From here on, this is your place. The first floor has a private theater, a game room, a gym…" "The second floor is for you and Miss Looske." Remy blinked. "She lives here, too?" Aiden, halfway up the stairs, stopped short. He turned, incredulous. "Of course, Miss Looske lives here. You two are married." Remy waved him off, clearly unimpressed. Aiden sighed inwardly. In his mind, Remy had no idea how lucky he was. With a woman like Nina Looske, whose suitors stretched a mile, being chosen was a blessing. Remy didn't see it that way. On the second floor, he stopped short. "Just one room?" Smiling, Aiden opened a pair of double doors. "Only one grand bedroom on this floor, and a dressing room. Miss Looske has a lot of clothes, so the dressing room takes up space." As the doors swung wide, even Remy, who'd seen plenty, stood stunned. This wasn't a bedroom. It was a palace, pure and simple. The furnishings were sumptuous, every detail radiating aristocratic taste. Famous paintings were everywhere, and this was just the sitting room. Aiden pointed to a small door on the right. "That's Miss Looske's wardrobe. About 2,100 square feet." Then he led Remy to the other side. "And this is your bedroom." As the door opened, a massive red bed caught Remy's eye immediately. "This is a Hästens custom handmade bed. It's breathable, wicks moisture, resists bacteria and mildew, and most importantly, it's incredibly soft against the skin to help you unwind," Aiden explained. Remy didn't answer. He wandered around. The bedroom alone spanned nearly 2,100 square feet. Nina, he thought, lived in heaven. The extravagance left him speechless. Even the vanity stretched over thirty feet, seamless and meticulous, clearly custom-made. And the bathtub? Outrageous. Only then did Remy truly grasp how lavish the lives of the rich could be. "By the way, we've got the set of eighteen gold items you asked for." On the balcony, a table held an array of gold ornaments, roughly thirty-three pounds, all exquisitely crafted. Remy glanced once and lost interest. Beyond, the balcony view stretched to the horizon, the air fresh and clean. The minimalist layout was inexplicably calming. "There's a house phone by the bed; if you need anything, just pick it up. Someone's on 24/7," Aiden said, ever attentive. Remy looked out at the mauve sky deepening into night and smiled. "Got it." Seeing that, Aiden took his leave. Remy let out a long breath. "They're seriously loaded." Too bad the original Remy died without ever setting foot in this place. After a lazy circuit, he returned to the bedroom. He lay back on the plush bed, a flicker of doubt drifting through him. "Ding... Your latest stunt has been logged. Since your performance exceeded expectations, you've earned an extra five points. Total reward: 10 points. Current progress (10/100)." "Also... detected that the host practiced traditional medicine in a past life. You've been granted a manual on flying-needle techniques." Remy shot upright. New knowledge bloomed in his mind. "Thirteen Needles of Death!" He blurted it out. Outsiders might scoff at the name, but only real practitioners of traditional medicine knew how fearsome those techniques were. The 'death' in the name doesn't mean killing; it's about saving people, snatching them back from Death. "Rumor has it, if you master all thirteen, you can defy fate itself." A thrill ran through him. He was going to strike it rich. Without a second thought, he grabbed the phone. "Get me a small figurine and a few embroidery needles." It was devilishly hard work. Luckily, he was an old hand at traditional medicine. Getting started should be easier for him. In the back office, a servant took off her headset, stunned. After a moment's hesitation, she relayed Remy's exact words to Aiden. On the other end, Aiden lowered his walkie-talkie, baffled. What did Remy want those for? He didn't know, but orders were orders. He found Nina, who had just finished dinner, and spoke in a low voice. "Ms. Looske, you should be careful." "What do you mean?" Nina's brows furrowed. Aiden glanced around and lowered his voice even more. "Mr. Fouldes asked for a bunch of embroidery needles. I'm worried he might have some…fetish. If you get hurt, Miss Nina, that'd be a problem." Nina's heart sank. She honestly hadn't considered that, and her face went pale. Then she thought it over and decided it seemed unlikely. To be safe, she leaned in and whispered a few instructions. Aiden nodded and slipped away. Soon, the items Remy had requested appeared. He eyed the embroidery needles and gave a helpless smile. Compared to acupuncture needles, they were far too thick. The first of the Thirteen Needles of Death was called Featherstorm Needles. The idea was simple: learn to flick needles through the air and strike acupoints precisely. A layman would never figure it out; even the basic acupoints were hard to locate, not to mention flicking a needle from a distance. Remy went straight to the vanity, set the cartoon doll in place, and began to practice. After a few rounds, sweat slicked his hair. He'd marked a red dot on the doll, and each time he needed to flick an embroidery needle so it hit the dot. That kind of focus wore a man out fast. "Still a shade off, but close enough." He nodded at the needles quivering in the doll. Drenched, he dashed into the bathroom, moved to the giant tub, and turned the knob to draw a bath. What happened next left him gaping. The instant he twisted it, jets along the inner wall erupted. What poured out wasn't water, but warm milk. In the blink of an eye, the tub brimmed. It felt wildly wasteful. He hesitated all of two seconds, then stripped and slipped in. No sense letting it go to waste. "So comfortable. No wonder Nina's skin looks so good. With this kind of care, even a pig would glow." As he soaked, his fatigue melted away. Drowsiness crept in, and he nodded off. Night fell, and the entire manor lit up. The view was stunning. Nina stood outside the villa, hesitating, worry knotting tighter the longer she thought about it. What if Remy really was a pervert? For a moment, she had no idea what to do. "Miss Looske, go on up. If anything happens, shout. We'll rush in and get you out right away," one of the bodyguards in their suits said quietly. "Then we'll grab Mr. Fouldes and hand him over to your father." Nina drew a deep breath and made up her mind. "All right."

Chapter 6: Remy Fouldes Seems to Be Into Something Kinky

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