Substitute-Chapter 16

Still, if the party required a two-week live-in period, it had to be on a different scale altogether. Anticipation turned into pressure.

“During the two-week stay, you’ll receive 50 million won each week. For the seven days of main work, it’ll be 50 million won per day. And there’s a completion bonus of 250 million won. That makes a total of 700 million.”

Horn-Rimmed Glasses laid it out.

“Neat and tidy, right?” fгeewebnovёl.com

The Monkey-Faced Man added.

His throat was parched. He glanced again at the water bottle on the side table, but in the end, didn’t drink it.

Silence fell.

“So are you doing it or not? Just say so.”

It was the Toad who broke the silence. His shrill, irritated voice didn’t match his body size at all.

Jiwon met his gaze briefly, then quickly looked away.

He’d been willing to do anything, even without being paid, if only they would accept him. But they were offering 700 million.

What the hell were they asking him to do, that they were paying a male prostitute 700 million won?

Even if they harvested every single one of his organs, he still wouldn’t make that kind of money. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.

Who the fuck were these people, casually talking about 700 million won like it was 70,000?

Especially that Toad he’d never seen before today.

That guy... he had to be the one with final authority over this whole project.

This is insane.

Sure, the money would be great, but three weeks was too long to handle. “Live-in” was just a nice way to say “locked up.” If he died in there, nobody would even know.

He wasn’t scared of dying. He’d come here fully ready to risk it all.

Suddenly, his mother’s face came to mind—her lying in the hospital bed.

I’m sorry.

Jiwon slowly lifted his head and looked directly at the Toad, the one who had asked him.

“I’ll do it.”

He answered with solemn conviction, like someone making a life-altering decision.

A smile spread across the Toad’s lips.

“You love money.”

It was a sneer, filled with contempt.

Whatever he thought, Jiwon didn’t care anymore.

“Excellent. That’s very good.”

The Monkey-Faced Man was pleased. He exchanged glances with the Thug Escort beside him and nodded.

“That concludes the verbal interview. Kim Jiwon, please move to the room and begin practical prep.”

Horn-Rimmed Glasses closed it off.

As if on cue, all three of them set their pens down at the same time. A door opened from beyond Jiwon’s left.

Another man in a suit stepped out from inside and waited for Jiwon.

Jiwon left the interviewers behind and moved toward the room. The suited man waiting pointed inward.

The interior looked exactly like a room from a mid-range business hotel.

Right in front of him was a king-sized bed, and on it were three dildos of varying sizes, a bottle of oil, and condoms. On the side table, a tissue box and a bottle of water were neatly arranged.

What the hell was the sofa for?

He let out a hollow chuckle.

“Please undress and shower first. Towel and mask are hanging in the shower.”

The suited man spoke just as Jiwon’s gaze landed on the video camera set up directly across from the bed.

“Condom use is optional.”

After saying that, the man turned on the camera and shut the door behind him.

In addition to the video camera, CCTV units were mounted at every corner of the ceiling and walls. The cameras were one thing, but the lack of windows made the room feel all the more suffocating. The lighting next to the bed was brutally bright—bright enough to make even the softest peach fuzz visible.

It was in this blinding room that Jiwon was supposed to strip, bend over, and insert a dildo into his own ass. Not something you could do without serious guts—but he had to succeed, no matter what.

That pressure, oddly, helped.

Go ahead and film all you want.

Jiwon folded his clothes neatly and placed them on the side table before stepping into the shower. He thoroughly washed every inch: the pinkish lump he could no longer call a dick, his two balls, his perineum and anus, even the folds around his asshole.

There was no mirror in the shower, so he couldn’t check his face.

It was probably red as hell by now.

With his body completely bare, he stepped out of the shower wearing the ornate mask. Without hesitation, he climbed onto the bed.

I’m a freak for anal sex.

I’m a slut for dick.

He repeated the phrases to himself as he turned his back to the camera and got down on his knees. He squeezed a generous amount of oil into his palm.

The rose-scented oil was rubbed all over his ass. He worked it gently into the folds around his asshole, layering it on again and again. Then, reaching behind, he positioned his middle and index fingers and slowly began stretching himself open. He took his time, soothing the area in preparation for what was to come—it had been a while since anything had gone in there.

****

At least it wasn’t a diaper.

Jiwon took the straight sanitary pad the suited man gave him and stuck it into the boxers he’d come wearing. Seeing that they had something like this prepared made him think—there must’ve been others who bled during the interview.

The small dildo went in without trouble, but the medium was already a struggle. The large one was beyond anything he could’ve imagined.

The biggest thing he’d ever taken was a male masturbation device marketed as a “prostate massager.” The three actual anal partners he’d had were all, unfortunately, shorter and slimmer than the toy. Smaller in girth, too.

Before the accident, Jiwon had a dick that was above average, and when he saw what they were packing, he hadn’t been able to hold back a snort. Of course, it still hurt going in—even if it was technically a cock.

Anyway, when his ass started to feel good while taking the medium dildo, he figured he could handle the large one too. Even knowing how big it was, he poured on oil with the dumb hope that it would somehow work out. When it didn’t go in, he forced it in with brute strength and probably tore something. He hadn’t expected to actually bleed. But he’d achieved the goal—and then some.

There had to be freaks out there who enjoyed that kind of thing. Fucking lunatics.

Even knowing he had to become one of those lunatics, he cursed them in his head.

With the foreign sensation of the pad between his legs and his torn asshole, Jiwon walked with a limp.

The suited man waiting outside the shower room led him out of the bedroom. The conference room was just as it had been during the interview, but now only Horn-Rimmed Glasses remained—the others were gone.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

Horn-Rimmed Glasses said flatly, handing him a black handbag. It was small—just big enough to hold a pocket-sized book—and had a strap.

“This is the promised ten million won. In cash.”

Then:

“We’ll be in touch.”

And that was it.

Horn-Rimmed Glasses gave a nod to the suited man waiting at the entrance, who stepped up and ushered Jiwon out of the conference room. Like a baton pass, the suited man in the waiting room took over. The same one who had done the body search and confiscated his belongings. Now, he returned them and personally escorted Jiwon to the elevator, unlocking the steel door.

“You must not disclose what happened today to anyone.”

The man warned him politely.

Left alone in the elevator, Jiwon opened the handbag. There were two neat stacks of 50,000-won bills. Probably a hundred in each stack.

“Fucking hell.”

He had just earned ten million won for shoving a dildo up his ass.

It wasn’t game currency. This was real.

He should’ve been happy about the unexpected windfall—but he couldn’t be. Too many people had died because of the ease of this money.

He thought maybe the rumors about the party host being a drug lord weren’t exaggerations after all—maybe they were true.

His mouth tasted bitter.

He fought to suppress the creeping unease.

It wasn’t like he’d gone into this blind.

Jiwon decided he’d focus on one thing only: the goal.

He’d secured the prize money. Now, only one thing remained—the trophy.

He finally felt like something was within reach. Like all his suffering was worth it. Not just empty clouds.

And that made him smile. For the first time in a long while, he smiled sincerely.

At the security booth, he got his ID card back and exited the building.

The sun was already high in the sky. Just standing still made it hard to breathe, but he didn’t take a cab. He walked for nearly fifteen minutes to the bus stop to catch an express bus.

With every step, he could feel blood trickling down between his legs. He worried if that thin pad could really absorb all of it.

He walked all the way to the stop and got on the bus headed for Gangnam. That’s when the thirst, hunger, and exhaustion hit him all at once. Maybe it was heatstroke—his stomach was churning. His ass was hurting too, of course.

By the time he got off, Jiwon was on the verge of collapsing. He stumbled into the first convenience store he saw and bought a bottle of water. He was drenched in sweat like it was pouring rain, but he kept smiling. His body ached, he was dizzy—and he’d never felt better.

A customer inside the store kept glancing at him.

Once his head cleared a bit, he suddenly craved beef. With that ten million won in his handbag, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ he considered going somewhere to eat it. But his body was in no shape, so he gave up on that.

Instead, he entered the subway station, found his locker, grabbed his backpack, and returned to the goshiwon.

The goshiwon was dead quiet. Outside, the sun blazed down, but in here it smelled like mold, the air damp and heavy. And somehow, it felt like home.

To make it all the way back, Jiwon had wrung out every last ounce of strength from his body. He collapsed onto the bed, completely drained.