Chapter 1

Accidentally Stumbling into the Cow Herd Group,

My gentle and virtuous sister-in-law is actually the top S-grade cow in there!

Her job is surprisingly so thrilling!

And my brother has no idea, even urging her to keep taking those supplements.

Seeing her milk cravings gradually intensify, I could no longer hold back…

I was playing with my newborn nephew,

when a friend sent me a sleazy emoji, asking if I wanted some milk.

I thought maybe my buddy Zach had a good source,

perfect for buying some for my nephew, so I said sure, send the link.

No link came, but an invite to join a group did.

A QR code for a group called “Milk Cow Herd.”

I couldn’t help but wonder, is it fresh-squeezed?

Out of curiosity, I joined the chat.

While waiting, I asked my friend what kind of milk it was and how the quality was.

“I’m buying it for my little nephew, quality has to be top-notch!”

Unexpectedly, Zach burst out laughing: “No way, no way, you really can’t tell what kind of milk this is?!”

I frowned: “Stop teasing, just tell me!”

Zach chuckled and dodged: “You’ll know once you join the group in a bit. Don’t blame me for not warning you—better find a private spot.”

Knowing Zach’s personality, I figured it wasn’t that simple.

Sure enough, after joining, it blew my mind.

I went back to my room, locked the door, and as soon as I entered, a few messages popped up.

“A-grade milk is pretty good, fragrant and thick.”

“You’re new, right? I suggest trying S-grade—that taste is extra smooth, but S-grade is the most expensive.”

“How expensive?”

“One cup ten grand, direct five grand? Wait, no—$1,000 a cup, direct $5,000.”

“Holy crap, but if it’s as good as you say, it’s worth it.”

What the hell, milk at $1,000 a cup? The most expensive formula I’ve seen is like $100 a can.

$1,000 a cup—this is sky-high! Scammers!

Just as I was about to leave the group and report it, a chat log was sent.

The group owner @ me: “Welcome new friend, check the chat history above for cow photos and prices. Like one, DM me.”

I excitedly clicked in, wanting to see what milk was worth more than gold.

What caught my eye was a photo of massive breasts!

Snow-white peaks with a pink pearl right in the middle, a milky white droplet oozing from the tip of the pink pearl, making your mouth water.

I sharp-eyed spotted a small star-shaped tattoo in the cleavage.

This woman is so wild! Tattooing right in the middle of her chest.

Below the photo: “S-grade, $1,000 a cup, direct $5,000.”

Scrolling down, photos labeled A, B, C, D, all kinds.

They were all stunning, but none compared to the first S-grade I saw.

The round, full, perky curve really made you want to grab and knead hard.

Looking at these photos had my face flushing, heart pounding, swallowing saliva repeatedly.

I quickly called Zach; he seemed to be waiting, picked up in a second.

“What the hell are you playing at?”

My voice was trembling, body getting hotter, my lower half tightening as expected.

Zach let out a wicked laugh: “Hahaha, how’s that? From your voice, I know you’re satisfied.”

I was about to curse him out for this messed-up stuff—getting caught would be fun in jail.

Then a door-opening sound came from outside, my heart jumped to my throat, I hung up immediately.

I suddenly remembered—I came home specifically to see my newborn nephew, hadn’t told my brother yet.

Hope they didn’t hear?

In that moment, a sucking sound came from outside, seemed like in the living room.

I held my breath, cracked the door to peek.