Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Big Dick Wants to Be Valuable
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Big Dick wants to be valuable.
Grrrowl-, meooow!
Between the mountain-like piles of volume-based trash bags.
A small black figure darted out, leaving an afterimage.
"Ugh, shit! You scared the hell out of me."
Following the black cat, a calico cat slipped out too. At a glance, its balls were puffy like Cheetos—probably in heat.
"Phew..."
Lately, every day, the cries of kittens echoed outside the window.
I glanced beside the trash bags. There was a stainless steel bowl, licked clean.
Irritation surged up in an instant.
"What a shithole neighborhood."
There was a clear sign saying not to feed the cats.
It had been quiet for a while, but someone must've started leaving food again.
I had a pretty good idea who it was.
It was the auntie living in the next block over in this rundown villa neighborhood.
I wasn't stalking her or anything—just circling endlessly for parking in this parking-lot-less hellhole when I'd spotted her.
Her own place was too noisy to leave it there, so she dragged it all the way over here to make a racket.
'She sure lives a diligent life.'
I slipped into the narrow alley and hallway leading to the fishy-smelling house.
Ignoring the damp mold, I headed in. Even at my young age, the high stairs jabbed at my knees.
I dragged my heavy-feeling feet up, step by step.
After eyeing the fancy new apartment doors and their sleek interiors, our own front door suddenly looked hideous.
I paused in front of our door, staring at the handle.
An old electronic lock. Our front door, plastered chaotically with key shop numbers.
Light leaked out through the small glass peephole.
For some reason, that light stayed my hand.
I didn't want to go inside.
'Fucking cold.'
With the villa's back alleys twisting through thin passages, the wind whipped fiercer in the narrowing gaps.
I stamped my feet a few times.
Finally, I unlocked the door.
"I'm home."
No answer came back.
Unlike my mood, the TV blared with celebrities laughing "haha."
The kind of hearty guffaws only people with the luxury of loneliness in spacious homes could belt out.
'Why watch people living better than me?'
No double doors separating the shoe rack from the entryway in this house.
I shrugged off my jacket onto my arm and felt the chill creeping up my feet.
"Mom still not home?"
At my question, my younger sister—scratching idly between her toes like it was a hassle—scrunched her face.
Faint wrinkles creased her nose bridge.
Her already plain, sharp-featured face scrunched up even more.
"Mom's on overtime again today."
Overtime again.
Mom's overtime shifts had been piling up lately.
With prices skyrocketing and wages flatlining, she probably had no choice.
A small stone dropped into my chest.
My body felt even heavier.
We weren't particularly close, Mom and I.
We never had been.
Mom was always swamped working to put food on the table.
With three kids' mouths to feed at home.
No dad around to shove meals down their throats, so of course she was busy.
Coming home, soothing her exhaustion—that was all she could manage.
Only now, with us all grown and her starting to age, did I finally grasp that her weary, duty-bound back was the image of Mom from my childhood.
-Siwoo, don't take the kids playing around so seriously. It was the same when Mom was little. I'm so tired. Gotta sleep early for work tomorrow. Be good?
Irritation welled up again.
"When are you gonna get a job? It's been forever since you said you were looking."
"Mind your own business. I'll handle it."
Watching her shoo me away like a pesky fly, my vision blurred.
I sighed and peeled off my socks, tossing them into the laundry bin.
I stripped off my dust-caked uniform and shuffled into the bathroom.
The house bathroom, dank and reeking of mold.
In the mirror stood a total failure, brimming with nothing but gloom.
Me.
173 cm tall, scrawny and pathetic.
Gaunt cheeks, unkempt hair, droopy eyes utterly devoid of any confidence.
My face was worthless too.
"Ah, thinking about it... fucking hell. Pathetic loser can't even scrape together 200k."
No soundproofing in this place—the door was swollen from the humidity.
My sister's grumbling came through loud and clear, like she wanted me to hear.
Veins bulged on my hand mid-lather.
"Han Sihyun, what the fuck did you just say?"
"Fuck? What the hell is this worthless shit saying? Did I stutter? Look at you—bet you didn't sell jack shit today either. Scraping by on a measly couple hundred thou.
Go run logistics at Coupang or something. Fuck, with that depressing vibe pouring off you, who'd buy anything? Gives me the fucking chills—can't even talk to you. You find a real job. My weekend gig pulls in as much as you do, you loser."
My hands trembled violently in the sink.
I needed to say something—anything—but my throat clamped shut like before, no words coming out.
Splash-
I slapped my face hard with handfuls of water and washed up.
She wasn't wrong.
A GED dropout who couldn't even finish high school.
College? Not even a pipe dream.
A resume stuffed with embarrassing six-month part-time gigs. Weak and frail since childhood—manual labor just meant more hospital bills.
Even lugging a 15kg bag with a vacuum cleaner inside for house calls made my back and knees ache like hell.
"Haa..."
The mirror showed a total failure of a life.
And with it came the terror of how to live from here on out.
Was I doomed to this forever?
Leeching off Mom's house well into adulthood?
Could I ever get married? Build a career in a real job?
'Ha, fuck. Never even dated once—what marriage?'
I sat on the toilet, tore off three squares of tissue, and folded them over.
The shrinking me inside felt unworthy of even that much toilet paper.
I was just wallowing alone.
True to the old villa, the toilet was tiny.
An unpleasant chill seeped into my lower half.
'Ah, touching again.'
On this body where everything fell below average, one massive cock—like it'd hoarded every ounce of talent.
Even soft, it brushed the upper rim of the toilet bowl.
11 cm flaccid.
The average for Korean guys unerect.
Erect? Roughly 27 cm.
Size of those monster black dicks from porn.
What good was big if it was useless?
You had to pass the resume stage first before deciding whether to whip it out.
I'd never even cleared resumes.
Who'd meet up with a depressed, no-confidence life loser?
Still, figuring a guy had to bust a nut sometime, I'd tried a brothel once.
Of course, even the hookers rejected my freakishly oversized dick.
This wasn't some open-minded West where curiosity might make them give it a go.
In Korea, it was just a vicious rod that hurt like hell and supposedly caused cervical cancer.
No drooling nympho was gonna see the thick slab wedged between my thighs and lose her mind.
That shit didn't happen in reality.
If women ever caught on, they'd shoot me disgusted looks alongside my creepy mug—that was my experience.
'World ain't some Japanese adult doujin.'
I tucked my dick roughly between my thighs and hit the bidet button.
Bought this bidet when I started the mattress home-care gig—to pad my sales quota.
In the end, it was a luxury my wallet couldn't afford, gnawing away at my pitiful paycheck instead.
Creeeak, graaate-
By the time I emerged from the bathroom, the TV was off.
Han Sihyun must've holed up in her room, sick of my pathetic mug.
Or maybe tired of watching me wilt without a comeback to her barbs.
I headed to my own room.
I booted up the second-hand PC I'd bought in my early twenties—with my big toe, roughly.
Logged into that Japanese doujin site I'd been reading.
Tap, tap-tap.
Tags? Obviously the huge-cock ones that filled my tiny shred of self-esteem.
Stuff where well-endowed guys stole away friends' moms or cuckolded dudes with girlfriends.
-Ooooooh, koooht! You're too big. My womb's crushing uuuuk, I'm cuuuuumming!!
Legs splayed frog-style, pussy juice squirting like a hose from where the dick plunged in.
Grotesque as hell.
Who in reality screamed like a beast in heat?
Yet there she was—that violent-bodied babe way out of my league—twisting her face into a dumb, slutty mess.
I projected myself onto it and savored the electric thrill of satisfaction.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.
I yanked tissue fast and wrapped the glans.
My hand slicked up quick; limpness washed over my whole body.
"Haa, makes a mess to clean. Cums way too fucking much."
Beep, beep, beep, bing.
Doorbell password tones from outside.
I scrambled into cleanup mode—wiped the tissue quick and jammed it deep in the trash.
Sprayed Febreze around the room, then dove onto the bed.
I rolled onto my side and pulled the blanket over my eyes against the crashing self-loathing and shame.
-Huh, Mom? You're home?
-Yeah, aigoogoogoo. Not a spot on me that doesn't ache.
Footsteps thudded heavily; groans leaked out with every step Mom took.
My head burrowed deeper under the covers.
Knock knock knock.
-Siwoo, you asleep?
Yeah, tired, going to bed early.
That's what I should've said, but my throat clogged up like before.
Still, she'd dragged herself home after a brutal shift—had to at least greet her, so I tried to speak.
-Ehew...
Mom's deep sigh filtered in.
My body grew heavy again.
Felt like I was getting sucked into the bed.
I wanted to run away.
Or at least become a person with some minimal worth.
The outside went quiet. Unable to bear the self-loathing, I sat back at the chair to drown it in pleasure again.
Projecting myself onto that doujin's big-dicked stud.
How nice if the world were like that absurd doujin.