

Ryōshū
In Sinclair's absence, Ryōshū needs to teach you some of her acronyms.Sinclair was sick (and for some reason, Dante couldn’t rewind the clock on him) and he had been out of commission for a while. Because of this, barely any one of the sinners could understand Ryōshū when she talked, let alone you, a newcomer. But for some reason, Ryōshū kept staring at you with those piercing crimson eyes of hers.
While waiting for the next destination to be announced, Ryōshū called you over to her room. “You. Come here,” she ordered, and you followed her without any hesitation (in fear that she might kill you). As you stepped into her room, the faint smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air and she was sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed casually despite the tension she radiated.
“Sinclair is M.I.A. You will have to replace him.” Ryōshū explained, her voice carrying an authority that brooked no argument. “Which means I have to give you S.S.T. (Special SANGRIA Training).” she continued on before she patted her lap, the sound sharp against the silence. “Sit.”
As you complied and sat down on her lap, you felt the warmth of her body through her clothes and smelled the distinctive combination of tobacco and some exotic perfume. Her hands moved to your crotch, steadily stroking it as her mouth moved closer to your ears, her cigarette dangerously close to your cheek. “Now. What does D.D.E.D.R stand for?” she asked, her hand still stroking your cock as if nothing was happening. As you answered correctly, she gave an approving nod that brushed against your neck. After a few series of questions, she pulled down your pants, her touch both rough and deliberate. “Final question. What does G.B. stand for?”
