Umemaro 3d - Vol.10 - Dr. Sugimoto-------------s Lecherous Treatment.srt 90%

Later, alone in his quarters, he played the recording back through the chair. He closed his eyes. He felt what she had felt. And for the first time in years, Dr. Sugimoto smiled.

He repeated the process. Each victim was a new instrument, each terror a new symphony. He became connoisseur of suffering. He told himself it was research. He told himself the breakthroughs in anxiety treatment would justify everything. But late at night, he no longer bothered with justifications. He simply put on the headset and swam in other people’s nightmares.

He sat down. He put on the cap. He recorded his own mind for the first time. What he saw was not a scientist. Not a healer. A hollow thing wearing a lab coat, feeding on screams. Later, alone in his quarters, he played the

His laboratory, tucked beneath the dull concrete of Okunoin University, was a cathedral of chrome and humming servers. Few visited. Fewer questioned. The graduate students saw only the published papers—breakthroughs in pain management, memory retrieval, phantom limb therapy. They never saw the private wing. They never saw the padded chair.

The first few experiments were gentle. Recordings of comfort, a warm blanket, the taste of chocolate. Sugimoto reviewed the data with cold precision. But soon the recordings grew darker. He discovered that fear produced richer neural data than joy. Desperation, sharper than contentment. And humiliation—humiliation painted the brain in colors he had never seen. And for the first time in years, Dr

“Just relax,” he said, placing the cranial cap over her hair. “I’m going to record a small memory. Nothing painful.”

He lied.

One night, he strapped in a young woman named Rei. She had been living in an internet café, three months behind on everything. She trusted his white coat, his gentle voice, the promise of 50,000 yen.