SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Normally, when you apprehended criminals, you interrogated them. You put them in jail. You used them for information, for bargaining chips, for the slow, tedious process of justice.

But the oldest sister had already given them the complete list. Every name, every location, every single person involved.

There was nothing left to interrogate. No information to extract. No bargaining to be done.

And jail? Jail was for people who could be rehabilitated. People who had made mistakes and could learn from them.

But cult members like these—people who had dedicated their lives to a dead tyrant, who had bombed cities and killed innocents—they could not be changed.

They would pretend, yes. They would beg, they would cry, they would promise to be good.

But the moment they were released, they would return to their old ways.

They would rebuild. They would strike again.

So, there was only one option left.

Mass execution.

She knew all of this. Logically, she understood.

But still, she still like it one bit, especially since Mika was the one heading it and she tried to change his mind.

"Mika." She said, her voice carefully controlled. "There’s no need for unnecessary bloodshed."

"If you want, I can build an entire facility on an isolated island. We can separate them all, keep them there for the rest of their lives."

"You won’t have to do what you’re planning."

Mika didn’t respond. He just continued to stare at the list in his hand, his expression unreadable.

Nadia’s desperation grew.

"Okay, even if you’re not going to spare them, at least let me do it. Not you. There’s no need for you to have more blood on your hands."

"I-I don’t want you to do anything unnecessary. Please, let me handle it instead."

She was babbling now, she knew. But she couldn’t stop. The thought of her baby boy taking so many lives with his own hands made something inside her twist with pain.

She had spent her entire life fighting for peace. She had bled for it, sacrificed for it, watched friends die for it. All so that her children could live in a world where they didn’t have to do things like this.

And now Mika was about to do exactly that.

Mika finally turned to look at her. His expression was soft. Understanding.

"I could say the same to you, Nadia."

She blinked.

"In the past, you had to cut down many people’s lives. I’m pretty sure you didn’t want to do that either. It was a matter of circumstance. War."

Her face went pale. Even now, even after all these years, she could still feel them—the souls of the people she had killed.

They visited her in dreams sometimes. Stared at her with empty eyes. Asked her why.

She had done what she had to do. But that didn’t make it easier to bear.

Mika reached out and took her hand. His palm was warm against hers.

"That’s why I want to carry this burden for you. I don’t want you to suffer the weight of more lives."

Nadia’s heart ached. He was trying to protect her. To shield her from more pain.

But she couldn’t accept that. Couldn’t let him—

"When was the last time you took a life another human life then today?" Mika suddenly asked.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. No words came.

"Was it a year ago? Two years? Three? A decade? More than that?"

She said nothing.

"Other than today when I forced your hand, you probably haven’t taken a life in years. And even today, I could see it on your face."

He smirked. "That awkwardness. That discomfort. Like you were doing something you didn’t want to do."

She was surprised by how closely he had been watching her. How well he knew her.

"And if you struggle to kill even a couple of people...."

Mika continued, gesturing at the thousands kneeling before them.

"...there’s no chance in hell you’re going to execute this many."

"You’ve basically lost the bluntness of your blade, Nadia." He honestly said. "You’re not the same person you were in the war."

A sad look crossed her face. It was true. During the war, she had killed without hesitation because it was necessary.

Because if she didn’t, her sisters would die. Her world would fall.

But after years of peace, after years of building rather than destroying, the thought of taking another life made her stomach turn.

Mika squeezed her hand.

"But it’s alright, Nadia. It’s totally fine." His voice was gentle. "In the past, you took lives like it didn’t matter. You lost the humane part of yourself, the part that should hesitate."

"You lost it because of the war."

He held her tighter.

"But now, you’ve regained it. You’re living a peaceful life and I’m not going to let you lose that again."

"So let me handle it, Nadia. Let me carry this burden."

He sneered, looking at the cult members as he added,

"Unlike you, taking out a bunch of scum who come after my family is no big deal for me at all."

Nadia wanted to argue. Wanted to find some reason, some justification, to stop him.

But she couldn’t. She knew he was right. She knew that no matter what she said, he was going to do this.

He was too determined, too protective, too unwilling to let anyone threaten his family and live.

She sighed and looked away.

Mika nodded, then turned to face the crowd.

Some of them were begging. Crying. Pleading for their lives.

Others were glaring with pure, undiluted hatred—their eyes promising revenge even in death.

They knew their plans had been thwarted. They knew who was responsible.

Mika sneered at them, then looked at Nadia.

"Nadia, could you do me a favor? Choose a number between one and a hundred."

She frowned. "Why? What are you going to do with it?"

"Just answer me, Nadia. Don’t ask questions."

She thought about it. A number between one and a hundred...

"Ninety-nine." She said. A small, almost embarrassed smile crossed her face, "That’s the highest number of times I’ve been spanked on my butt for slouching. So...ninety-nine."

Mika’s smile widened. "A great number."

He reached up and grabbed one of the floating swords out of the air. It hummed in his grip, glowing faintly.

Nadia felt a cold knot form in her stomach. "Wait. Mika. What are you going to do with that number?"

Mika turned to face the kneeling crowd. His expression was calm. Almost serene.

"For what they’ve done and all the sins they’ve committed, I was planning to give them a slow, painful death. Cut off their flesh, piece by piece, until the final slash ends them."

He raised the sword, while Nadia’s face paled.

"I was trying to decide how many times I should slice their bodies before killing them. And now you’ve given me a number."

He smiled. "I’m going to cut them into ninety-nine pieces before the final blow."

His voice was kind. Like he was discussing a pleasant afternoon activity.

But before he could slice down—

"No!" Nadia grabbed his arm. "Mika, stop! There’s no need for that! There’s no need to be so cruel!"

Mika looked at her, confused.

"But Nadia, they’ve done horrible things. I can sense the bloodlust on them. The malice. Most of them have blood on their hands. Innocent blood."

"But still—just because they act like animals doesn’t mean we have to act like them."

Nadia’s voice was pleading. "There’s no need to make such a mess. We should finish this as cleanly as possible."

Mika considered this for a moment. Then he sighed, lowering the sword.

"Fine, fine. If you really want it that way, I’ll oblige you."

Nadia let out a breath of relief.

"But." Mika added. "I’m still cutting them ninety-nine times. Don’t worry—I’ll make it as peaceful as possible."

Before Nadia could protest, Mika raised the sword again.

It began to glow—brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding. He whispered something under his breath, words that Nadia couldn’t quite catch.

[Death by ninety-nine cuts]

And he swung the sword down.

Whoosh!

A gust of wind rushed across the clearing, passing through the crowd like a gentle breeze.

The captives flinched, expecting pain, expecting death, expecting something.

But...othing happened.

They looked at each other, confused. They touched their faces, their arms, their chests.

Everything seemed fine.

But then the lines appeared.

Small red lines, crisscrossing across their skin—on their faces, their necks, their hands, their bodies.

They spread rapidly, multiplying, covering every inch of flesh.

And then their bodies began to fall apart.

Not in chunks. Not in bloody splatters.

In perfect, uniform cubes—each the same size, each cut with surgical precision.

Flesh, bone, organs, everything disintegrated into tiny pieces that rained down onto the ground in a macabre avalanche.

The sound was soft. Almost gentle. Like rain falling on dry earth.

Within seconds, thousands of people had been transformed into mountains of minced meat.

Nadia stared in horror.

She had seen horrors during the war. Had witnessed atrocities that would break lesser minds.

But this was something else entirely.

The sheer cleanliness of it. The precision. The way their bodies had simply...come apart.

She took a step back, her face pale, her stomach churning.

Mika in the other hand just tossed the sword aside. It clattered on the ground, still humming faintly.

"You wanted a peaceful death." He said, shrugging. "So I gave them one. Ninety-nine cuts, all in a single instant. So fast they probably didn’t even feel it."

He patted her shoulder. "It’s the peaceful death you asked for."

Nadia stared at the mountains of meat. Thousands of people. Living, breathing people just moments ago.

Now reduced to...this.

She should be horrified. She should be screaming at him for being so monstrous.

But somewhere, deep down, she understood.

These people had tried to kill her family. Had tried to destroy everything she loved.

And Mika had simply responded in kind.

He was merciless. He would never let anyone who harmed his family go unpunished.

She had witnessed it before, when he had massacred an entire army to protect her daughter.

And now she was witnessing it again.

It was simply who he was.

Nadia let out a long, slow breath and turned around since she knew she had another problem to deal with.

The moment she turned...she saw it.

Over on the side, a hundred children knelt on the blood-soaked ground, tears streaming down their faces.

Some were so young they could barely understand what had happened. Others were old enough to know—old enough to watch their parents, their older siblings, their entire families, be reduced to mountains of meat right before their eyes.

Yelena had separated all of them from the adults before the slaughter.

She had known what was coming and she had wanted to spare them from getting involved as well, so she put them to the side.

Now they knelt in silence, trembling, their eyes hollow.

Among them was the little girl, the bomber’s daughter.

The one whose mother had been beheaded, whose grandmother had her neck snapped and even her uncle had been torn in half.

She was there, staring at nothing, her face blank with trauma.

Nadia was thinking about how to handle all if them when she saw Mika walking toward them.

Her blood ran cold.

She had accepted the massacre of the adults. She had understood that it was necessary.

These were cultists, terrorists, people who had dedicated their lives to destruction.

But the children? The children were innocent. They had been born into this, raised in it, poisoned by it—but they were still children.

They still had a chance. They could still be saved.

If Mika slaughtered these children like he had slaughtered their parents—something inside her would break.

It would change him fundamentally, transform him from a flawed but understandable protector into something far darker.

Nadia couldn’t allow that to happen so she surged forward, her body moving with desperate speed.

She placed herself directly between Mika and the children just as he raised his hand, a gesture that suggested the beginning of some terrible working.

"Don’t!" She cried out, her voice breaking with emotion. "Mika, don’t! Please, don’t touch them!"

"These are just children! They don’t deserve this! They know nothing—they’ve been taught lies by their families and their environment, but they’re still innocent!"

"Please, I’m begging you—don’t do this!"

She didn’t care how she was literally begging Mika right now. Her dignity as a Battle Angel meant nothing in this moment.

She would not let him harm these children.