Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 509: Diana Was Kidnapped

The bench creaked softly as I settled beside Diana, the warmth of the day still clinging to the wooden slats. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, but her forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat—likely from the adrenaline rush of the rides. Without thinking, I pulled out my handkerchief and gently dabbed at her forehead, wiping away the moisture.

Diana blinked in surprise, her hand instinctively reaching up. "I can do it myself," she protested, though her voice lacked its usual firmness.

I smiled, shaking my head. "It’s okay," I said softly, my fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. She hesitated, then relaxed, letting me take care of her in that small, intimate way.

A chime of cheerful music caught my attention. I turned to see an ice cream truck parked nearby, its bright colors and swirling soft-serve cones calling out like a siren song. "I’ll be back soon," I told Diana, pointing toward the truck. "Don’t go anywhere."

She nodded, her lips curving into a tired but content smile. "Hurry back," she said, leaning against the bench as if the weight of the day had finally caught up with her.

I made my way to the line, my mind already drifting. How would a hero save the beauty? In stories, it was always dramatic—last-minute rescues, grand gestures, defying impossible odds.

But real life was quieter, subtler. Maybe heroism wasn’t about the spectacle; maybe it was about being there, about noticing the small things, like sweat on a forehead or the way someone’s eyes lit up after a roller coaster ride.

I ordered two vanilla ice creams, the creamy swirls perfect in their cones. But when I turned back, my heart lurched. The bench was empty.

"Where did she go?" I muttered, scanning the crowd. The amusement park buzzed with noise—laughter, shouts, the clatter of games—but Diana was nowhere.

"Didn’t I tell her not to go anywhere?" Panic clawed at my chest. Maybe she’d gone to the restroom? I asked a few nearby families if they’d seen a woman in a black dress and heels, but they just shook their heads.

That’s when I activated GOD SPEED.

The world blurred around me as I raced through the park, my body vibrating at a frequency that made me invisible to ordinary eyes. I searched every corner, every ride, every restroom—nothing. My mind raced. She wouldn’t just leave. Something was wrong.

I didn’t panic. Instead, I focused, rewinding time itself.

The air shimmered as I opened a portal back to the moment I’d left Diana on the bench. I stepped out just as my past self walked toward the ice cream truck. But this time, I was invisible, moving at a speed that bent reality.

Diana was still there, sitting with her chin resting on her hand, watching my past self walk away. Then, a woman approached.

She looked ordinary—casual clothes, a friendly smile—but her eyes were cold, calculating. She sat beside Diana and leaned in, her voice low and urgent.

Woman: (smiling falsely) "Excuse me, miss. You look like you could use some help."

Diana turned, her expression guarded but polite. "I’m fine, thank you. Just waiting for someone."

The woman’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She slid a small device from her pocket, showing Diana a live feed—a red dot centered on my past self, walking toward the ice cream truck.

Woman: (voice dropping to a whisper) "That’s your nephew, right? The one you’re so fond of?" She tapped the device. "Right now, he’s being tracked by a sniper. One wrong move from you, one scream, one attempt to run... and he dies. Understand?"

Diana’s breath hitched. "What—what do you want?" she stammered, her voice trembling.

Woman: "We want you to come with us. Quietly." She grabbed Diana’s wrist, her grip like iron. "Stand up. Now."

Diana hesitated, her eyes darting toward my past self. "Please... don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you say."

The woman smirked. "Smart girl." She pulled Diana to her feet, keeping a firm grip on her arm. "Remember—no scenes. No heroics. Or your precious nephew gets a bullet in his head before he even knows what hit him."

Diana’s face paled, but she nodded, her body stiff with fear. The woman guided her toward the park’s exit, where a nondescript black sedan waited, its engine running.

Diana: (whispering, desperate) "Where are you taking me?"

Woman: (pushing her into the backseat) "Somewhere safe. For now." She slid in beside Diana, slamming the door shut. The driver, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, glanced back.

Driver: "Mission status?"

Woman: "Secured. No complications." She pulled out a phone. "Withdraw. Mission completed. Returning to the base."

Diana’s hands shook in her lap. "Please... just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I promise—"

The woman backhanded her across the face, hard. "Shut up." She pressed a button on her device. "And don’t think about trying anything. Your nephew’s still in our sights."

Diana gasped, her hand flying to her stinging cheek. Tears welled in her eyes, but she bit her lip, forcing herself to stay silent.

I followed, my body humming with energy. The car pulled away, merging into traffic. I didn’t have time to think.

I opened Supermarket Store, using my Pervert Points to buy a GPS tracker in seconds. I hurled it into the car just as it disappeared around a corner. The device clung to the undercarriage, unseen.

As the car vanished into the city’s maze of streets, I allowed myself a grim smile. They took the wrong woman.

I’d find them. And when I did, they’d regret ever laying a hand on Diana.

As the black sedan vanished into the city’s labyrinth of streets, I allowed myself a grim smile. They took the wrong woman.

The way they operated—precise, coordinated, and cold—wasn’t the work of common criminals. The woman’s mention of a "mission," the sniper threat, the way they communicated like trained operatives—this had the fingerprints of a government agency or a black-ops unit.

They weren’t thugs; they were professionals. And professionals didn’t kidnap someone unless they had a very good reason.

It was clear: Diana wasn’t just in trouble.

She was valuable.

And they didn’t want to harm her.

They needed her.