Ethan drove the few blocks to the high-end clothing store. He parked his BMW, the aches from the twelve bullet impacts a constant, throbbing reminder of his 'Harder Than Steel' power. He needed new clothes immediately.

He walked into the brightly lit shop. Behind the counter, organizing silk scarves, was the girl he remembered.

"Ashley Collins," Ethan said, his voice smooth and carrying the confidence of his new physique.

Ashley looked up, her expression shifting instantly from polite customer service to shock. "Mr... Mr. Blake? Oh my God, is that you?"

Then she saw his clothing: the tailored shirt ripped and peppered with small, dark holes, the fabric stained with what was unequivocally dried blood.

"Are you okay?! What happened? You look like you just walked out of a war zone!" she rushed around the counter, her eyes wide with fear and concern.

Ethan offered her a reassuring, though slightly pained, smile. "Relax, Ashley. It's nothing serious. Just a ridiculous accident. It looks much worse than it is, trust me. It's all superficial." He gently stopped her from touching his ruined shirt. "Why don't you find me a few casual outfits—something to replace this horror? I need about three changes of clothes, size large."

"I—I can do that," she stammered, still staring at the holes.

"Better yet," Ethan leaned closer, his voice low. "I need to change now. Come back to the fitting room with me, and I can show you the 'superficial' damage. You can verify I'm not bleeding out on your expensive carpet."

Ashley blushed furiously at the intimate invitation but, seeing the genuine holes and wanting to check if he was truly hurt, she nervously agreed. "O-okay. Right this way. I have to thank you, first, though. Because that other girl ignored you last time, she was fired. I was only provisional, but now I have her permanent position. Thank you, Mr. Blake."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan dismissed her. "It was just a coincidence."

[COINCIDENCE? Are you kidding me, Champion? You're a goddamn kingmaker! Now she owes you favors! Stop talking and start screwing her!] the System groaned impatiently. [She's grateful, she's scared, she's impressed by the car—the trifecta! Don't let this perfect moment pass!]

Ashley led him to a large, private fitting room. As the door closed, the air became thick with tension.

"Let me just check your side," she murmured, her hands hovering nervously.

Ethan simply nodded and began to peel off the ruined, blood-stiffened shirt.

Ashley gasped, not at the expected horror, but at the sheer, sculpted perfection of his torso. The lean, hard muscles of his chest, arms, and abdomen were a masterpiece— a stark contrast to the small man she remembered.

Scattered across his skin, where the bullets had hit, were dark red puncture marks—tiny, closed holes that looked less like entry wounds and more like small, deep pinpricks. They were sealed, not actively bleeding, but they confirmed where the shirt had failed.

"Oh, God," Ashley whispered, gently tracing a line of punctures near his ribs with a trembling finger. "What kind of accident was this? Did you fall on rebar or something? These look like little stabs."

She didn't, couldn't, connect the injuries to a gun. They were too small, too contained.

"Just scratches," Ethan replied, his voice husky, his body tightening at her soft touch. "Does it look like I'm dying?"

"No," she breathed, her initial fear dissolving, replaced by an intoxicating combination of pity and pure, unadulterated attraction. Her eyes were fixed on the powerful body before her, the wounds only emphasizing his strength.

Ignoring the pain that still throbbed beneath his skin, Ethan felt a magnetism draw them together. Ashley, overwhelmed by the sight and the adrenaline, leaned forward, her fear forgotten. She pressed her lips to his torso, starting with a kiss right over the deepest mark on his ribs. She kissed the punctured skin on his shoulder, his chest, and his abdomen, each gentle touch a silent act of worship and relief.

Ethan watched her, his eyes dark with desire, his body tensing as her lips traced the lines of his wounds. He reached out, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her flush against him, his hardness pressing into her stomach.

Ashley gasped, her eyes widening as she felt his erection, his cock pressing insistently against her. "Mr. Ethan," she whispered, her voice a breathy plea. "No, we shouldn't. It's not right. Not here, I will be fired."

Ethan chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "You started this, Ashley. You kissed my wounds, you touched me. Now you have to finish what you began."

With that, he took her hands, placing them on his cock. Ashley's eyes widened as she felt the texture of his enormous shaft, filled with pearls, its size unusual and exciting. Her fingers wrapped around him, feeling the heat, the power, and the bumpy texture.

"Wow," she breathed, her voice a whisper of awe. "This is the biggest I've ever seen. Ever."

Ethan grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "It's going to be the best you've ever had, too. Trust me."

Ashley chuckled, a breathless sound, pulling back slightly. "Why don't we try on the clothes I brought you? See how they fit?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Very well. Put them on me."

Ashley reached for his pants, unbuttoning them, unzipping his fly. She pulled them down, along with his boxers, revealing his colossal cock. Ashley gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of his enormous shaft, the pearls glinting in the low light.

"Fuck," she breathed, her voice a whisper of desire. "I've never seen anything like this. It's... it's magnificent."

Ethan chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "Glad you think so. Now, put on the clothes."

Ashley nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she took the boxers, sliding them down his legs, sticking her tongue out to taste his skin, to trace the lines of his muscles, his abs, his neck...

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