Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Big Dick Wants to Be Valuable
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Big Dick wants to be valuable.
"Ughhh!"
"Hey, that's why I told you to drink in moderation."
The hand patting his back was rough.
"Hey, why are your hands so damn thick? Fuck, that hurts. For real."
"Shit, you want me to hit you properly?"
"Sorry."
Kim Hyoi's round full-moon face crumpled up, making her look like a scary bear.
"Fuck, the world's so goddamn unfair. That trash bitch who stole guys' money and bullied them back in school? She's over there living it up in that redevelopment apartment."
Hyoi tugged down the delivery vest she was wearing.
Her body was already built like a log, and pulling on the vest made her chest look like pure muscle.
It was a straight line, nothing like Park Dahee's feminine curves.
Her hair was short too—if not for her face, she'd look just like an elementary school boy.
"You, you're thinking some fucked-up shit again, aren't you? Wanna die?"
Dodging Hyoi's wildly swinging arms, he rubbed his hands together apologetically. She might look like a bear, but she had a weirdly sharp intuition.
Still, being around Hyoi made his mood feel a little better.
He knew her over-the-top bouncing around was her way of keeping him from sinking into depression.
He regretted not getting close to her back when Park Dahee's crew had tormented him all through high school.
If he had, could he have graduated?
What a ridiculous thought. Hyoi might've ended up getting bullied right alongside him by Park Dahee, going from subtle outcast to full target.
"Still, we earn our money fair and square. No slacking off. You, me—we're both giving it our all."
If he could really hold his head high like that, he'd have made Park Dahee apologize while she looked down on him, basking in her superiority.
Instead of stammering like an idiot and running away.
"Right? Haha..."
He scratched his head and forced a smile.
But his chest still burned, suffocating. The humiliation wouldn't fade. It was a shame he'd carry forever, like the scars from high school.
'Yeah, at least we're doing our best and living honestly.'
Anyone looking at them would think they were streetwalkers or office drones.
But he was scraping by cleaning other people's mattresses, making less than two hundred a month, and calling it honest.
Fucking bullshit.
A heart-ripping, shitty emotion clawed at his chest.
So what?
So what if she's a whore?
In this capitalist world, isn't it all about money? What the hell was he, earning less than a whore with no future whatsoever?
A worm worse than a whore?
Park Dahee would get property worth what others slaved lifetimes for once that apartment redevelops.
With her decent looks and money, she'd erase her tattoos, launder her past, and live fat and happy.
Me?
What about me?
He'd probably end up scraping by on basic welfare at some community center.
"Ha... fine. Can't stop you anymore. Drink up. I'm gonna watch YouTube."
Those bastards ruined his life. And this shitty Korean society? It doesn't give dropouts a second chance.
-Hey, Jinsung and Woosung were talking about you. Come to the reunion sometime.
Park Dahee's words.
The guys who'd bullied him the worst, directly to his face—they still went to reunions.
That meant they were eating well, shitting well, sleeping well, living well.
No shame, so they kept showing up. Who even does reunions anymore? And yet those assholes were organizing them regularly themselves.
It was infuriating.
He was the idiot for believing that old fantasy novel bullshit: do good and get rewarded, do bad and it comes back eventually.
Deep down, he'd thought those guys would suffer too in this society, their lives ruined as much as they'd ruined others, ending up as bums.
But no.
It was a world where the perpetrators thrived.
It had always been that way—he just hadn't wanted to believe it.
Gulp, gulp—
Blowing into the soju bottle and letting out a 'kwek', he got a tissue from a blurry Hyoi.
"Proud my ass. We just never had the power or chance to be as evil as them. Kwek—Hyoi, hey, what're you watching now?"
"Science YouTube channel."
-Hello, blue dots of our universe. Would you believe there's someone out there living the exact same life as you? Today's topic is the 'Multiverse,' or parallel universe theory... But modern physics says this universe floats like countless bubbles, each one a 'parallel world.'
"What the hell's that mean?"
"I'm pissed Park Dahee's doing well too. But maybe in some other world, I got lucky—born pretty like her, living life on easy mode."
He slung his arm over Hyoi's shoulder and shoved his face in. Pressing his cheek to hers, he peered at the phone up close.
"Huh? I saw this black dude in a documentary before."
It felt like a super famous docu. A renowned scientist saying it was theoretically possible gave it credibility.
"Yeah, you deserve an easy life too, super fucking pretty. My one good friend! You qualify! In infinite other universes, hell yeah!"
"Cut the crap, your booze breath stinks."
Shoving his face away, his body teetered at the edge of the bench. He flailed his arms to balance, but his body just wobbled on its own.
"God, universe, fuck multiverse bubbles! Me—just one thing! Don't need handsome. A world where the one usable part of my body—my dick—actually works!"
"Hey, shut up. People are staring."
"Huh? Fuck, in a world where a big dick makes girls go 'Ooooh!' and freeze up, like some adult doujinshi? Born with a huge cock, easy life stealing other guys' girls... Uwup!"
Hyoi clapped both hands over his mouth. Her face was beet red—must've been mortified.
Full moon turning red? Red moon?
"Mngh mngh!"
'Sorry, you're just a shy friend!'
That's when her push sent him toppling backward for real.
Shortstack with crazy strength.
"Huh?"
His waterlogged head fell back first.
In the hazy night sky choked with Chinese fine dust, he saw a shooting star streaking down.
'Shooting star? What, some Space-Z shit?'
Thousands of satellites floating up there—with scientists saying shit like that, maybe a real multiverse existed.
No, he hoped it did.
Bang!
Beep—
A high-pitched whine pierced his brain from his ears.
His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, feeling like it might burst.
Not quite a stroke, though.
He was properly wasted.
Drunk off his ass, like a glitched game character—his body was here, but afterimages overlapped it, lagging behind.
"Hey, Han Siwoo! Han Siwoo! Can you snap out of it?"
"Uh, uh, I'm good. What, falling over from sitting... Hey, why's your voice so nice now?"
Her throat was always rough from delivery work on top of respiratory issues, but now it sounded clear, like she'd hit a high note from the shock of him falling.
"What the fuck are you on about, idiot? I said falling's no big deal a million times. We're at your place now. Get up."
Was that it?
His memory had cut out.
He pried open bleary eyes.
A shoulder came into view.
Light reddish hair tickled his cheek.
'When'd her hair get this long?'
She'd always rocked a manly two-block cut.
Eh, short crop or two-block, same difference.
Long time since he'd seen her properly anyway. Park Dahee had kept him too distracted.
His ass trembled faintly while his arms gripped her waist—it felt like a motorcycle.
'Warm.'
Cold night, but riding pillion made Hyoi's log-shaped marshmallow body feel sweet as hell.
Soft...
Her fat had always been on the firm side too.
He flailed his hand and grabbed her belly.
"Hng... Hey! Hands off."
It enveloped his hand and arm all plush, better than memory foam.
His company's stuff was cheap and high-quality memory foam too.
Knead, knead, knead.
"Hey, your belly fat's gotten way too thick... What if you get diabetes at our age? Eat rice, not snacks. Rice!"
Suddenly his body pitched forward.
"Ow..."
He clutched his stinging nose, and the dashboard lights scratched at his eyes.
"You crazy fuck!"
Some red-skinned figure in a helmet loomed close.
She'd always been super pale, but road exposure had sunburned her skin beet red.
Poor friend of his.
Delivery work was brutal.
A white orb filled his vision.
Bang!
His eyes flashed white.
Scrrch-scrrch.
Feet scraping pavement.
Groaning from below.
"Haa, ha... Han Siwoo. Lifetime meal ticket. Sihyun, long time no see..."
The air was steamy hot, booze churning harder, head spinning.
"Hey! You fucker. Vomit in the toilet..."
Ugh!
Body was soft, but no clothes—cold.
Soft blanket brushed his good spot, so he reached down and fiddled.
Tap, tap-tap, tap.
Heart hammered his eardrums. His dick's veins pulsed the same.
How long did he stroke?
A nice climax built up.
Creeeak—
"You fucking worthless bottom-feeding scum with no right to live... Vomit... where the fuck did you puke..."
Either the pleasure shooting through his urethra or sudden light piercing thin eyelids.
His eyes scrunched.
Spurt, splurt, spuuurt—
Longer and sharper than usual, thanks to the booze.
"Kyaaaaah!"
A screaming, thrashing figure. Blurry colors only, but splattered white paint all over.
No way human cum came out that much.
Sweet dream of his shitty little sister suffering.
Soft pillow touch brought a faint smile.
"You disgusting worm!"
Nice lullaby.