Admissions Day
I was on my way to the Special Management Prison today, having just been sentenced to death for murder in court.
That is, as I rode the transport bus···.
The inside of the bus was quiet and unbearably dull.
"Ahh··· so boring···"
After all, I was the only one riding in the transport bus.
All I wanted was to feel a nice, cool breeze for once.
But.
My wrists were locked in handcuffs.
I was nothing more than a criminal in a blue prison uniform.
And as a death row inmate wearing a Red Nametag, freedom no longer existed for me.
We'd be arriving at the Special Management Prison soon.
I was not an ordinary death row inmate.
Regular death row inmates wear a Yellow Nametag···.
But mine was red.
I suppose you'd call me a death row inmate who'd still been given a chance at release, even so.
They said all of this was classified···.
Even the mere fact that I had a chance didn't make me happy at all.
Because even if I did have the chance to walk free, I'd be subjected to far worse treatment than an ordinary death row inmate.
How did it come to this?
Why, in the world···.
I committed a crime worse than the ordinary death row inmates.
I was a social outcast at school.
The iljin bullied me relentlessly···.
Eventually, it escalated to group beatings.
And it was all just because I was fat and ugly.
No one helped me.
Everyone was too busy trying to sweep the whole thing under the rug···.
Even my own parents blamed me for it.
Something about how ashamed they were to have a child who just took his beatings at school?
That was when rage took hold of me.
I bought an industrial utility knife on my way to school, and the moment I stepped into the classroom, I drove it into the necks of every one of the iljin who'd tormented me.
It was a scene of carnage···.
The students and teachers who'd merely stood by and watched evacuated, but I alone remained in the classroom.
Clutching that industrial utility knife in both hands before the bodies of the iljin I'd killed···.
I pressed it to my own throat.
I was going to kill myself.
I had killed four people···.
Four murders didn't qualify me to be classified as an ordinary death row inmate in court.
There was a project the state was running···.
Known as the Sex Change Rehabilitation Project···.
Something about how a person becomes docile once their sex is changed, or whatever.
But apparently, when your original sex is changed···.
The psychological damage is greater than even···.
A life sentence···.
Even greater than the terror of facing execution.
There had actually been one case that succeeded in rehabilitation.
The rest couldn't be reformed even after their sex was changed, and were eventually put to death···.
But hey, they were death row inmates anyway···.
From the state's perspective, I figured they were willing to try as long as there was even a sliver of hope for rehabilitation.
The sex reassignment experiments themselves had even been reported in the news as contributing to medical research.
"Haaah··· I didn't have a choice···"
I was the victim from the very beginning···.
No one came to my aid.
The phrase Sex Change Rehabilitation Project, plastered all over the media, kept nagging at me.
It felt like yet another enormous punishment was waiting for me.
But···
All that happens is my sex gets changed, right?
Surely it won't be that bad?
The transport bus arrived···.
The doors opened, and a female prison guard stepped in, walking toward where I sat.
Huh? A female guard?
Shouldn't it be a man?
"Hey, get up."
"Yes···"
Before I could even form the question···.
I obediently rose from my seat.
The guard grabbed me roughly by the arm.
"Move it, forward."
"Yes···"
All I could do was repeat my answers like a parrot.
She was holding her stun gun pressed against my side, after all.
I guess being a "special" death row inmate earned me treatment like this.
The moment I stepped off the bus, the guard covered my eyes with a black cloth.
What's going on?
"Um, excuse me···"
"Hm? What is it."
"Why are you blindfolding me···?"
"Haaah··· We're headed to the Special Sex Change Laboratory."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because everything about it is classified."
"Why is it classified?"
"Haaah··· I can't be bothered to explain everything, so just follow me."
"Yes···?"
Once my endless questions annoyed her, she shoved me forward with a thump.
Understanding nothing, I was hauled off somewhere with nothing but a blindfold over my eyes.
We entered some kind of building···.
Chilly, I suppose you'd call it···.
In other words.
This was the Special Sex Change Laboratory?
I was dragged into a room somewhere.
Clunk.
Holding me steady, the guard spoke.
"Lie down."
"Yes···"
Even without being able to see, I felt around desperately with my hands and found the cold surface of a steel bed···.
So I lay down on it.
The chill of metal seeped into my back.
It looked exactly like an operating table···.
Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked the guard.
"Are you, by any chance, doing a sex change operation or something here?"
"Yep."
"Ah···"
"You're going to be turned into a woman here today, and then incarcerated."
With that, the guard fastened restraints around my ankles and wrists, locking me in place.
So it was really happening—my sex was really going to change···.
But there was one more thing I was curious about···.
I turned my face toward where I could hear the guard's voice and spoke.
"Um, excuse me···"
"What?"
"Why are you a female guard? Shouldn't it be a male guard···"
It was common sense that male prisons were staffed by male guards···.
And female prisons by female guards.
Wait···.
Hold on···.
Something was off.
A female guard being here meant··· don't tell me···.
"Because this is a women's penitentiary, obviously."
"Th, then··· am I going to be locked up in a women's prison···?!"
"Well, yeah?"
"No··· but I'm a man··· why···"
"Pfft··· You? A man? You're about to become a woman right here."
"Ah···"
Only then did it sink in.
That my life behind these walls was about to get so much harder.
And right away···
Someone entered the room and drove a needle into my arm.
The moment the drugs entered my system, my eyes began to drift shut···.
Someone said to me:
"Once you wake up, you'll be a woman."
"Ah···"
My eyelids slid closed almost immediately,
and all the strength drained from my body.
At last my eyes closed, and I fell asleep···.
Only to snap awake moments later.
"Huh?"
A voice spilled from my lips—high, feminine, almost melodic···.
A sleep anesthesia injection···.
It felt like I'd woken up instantly, without even registering that I'd slept at all.
I pressed my hands against the floor and pushed myself up···
"Wait? Where am I?"
The surface beneath my hands wasn't the operating table.
I scrambled to my feet and looked around···.
It was a pitch-dark cell.
Silvery shadows streamed in through the bars of a barred window···.
And beside me lay someone with dyed blonde hair,
who seemed even taller than my new body, with a fuller chest besides.
I examined myself···.
Small, yet unmistakably there—the prison uniform bulged out with quiet insistence.
And when I rolled up the sleeve···.
Slender arms. Slender hands···.
And finally—embarrassing as it is···.
But it's my body now, after all.
Even if it's a woman's body, it's still mine, so it shouldn't matter.
I slowly lifted the top of my prison uniform.
Smooth, bare skin came into view—not a single hair to be found···.
Even my cute little navel looked somehow lewd.
I ran my hands over my waist and hips···.
Unlike my formerly jutting belly···.
My waist curved inward, and my hips flared wide to either side.
Then I felt my face with both hands···.
It wasn't the rough, acne-riddled skin I used to have···.
What met my fingertips was soft, supple skin.
"I— I'm··· a woman now···"
Thankfully, the surgery had been a success.
And I'd been turned into quite a well-proportioned woman, at that···.
Maybe this works out for me after all?
For someone as fat and ugly as I'd been, it was nothing but good news.
I let out a breath of relief···.
"Hiiiek···!"
"Oh? Too bad the chest is on the small side, but the shape's nice and springy. Makes for decent squeezing, I'd say?"
"Wh, what are you doing?!"
Startled, I whipped my head around···.
Huh?
The woman who'd been lying beside me had gotten up at some point···.
And was pressed flush against my back.
The shock set my heart pounding···.
"Wh, what do you think you're doing? Out of nowhere?"
"Well, they said a newbie arrived, so I couldn't help myself?"
"That doesn't mean you get to grope another person's chest whenever you feel like it···!"
The lingering sensation of that woman's hand on my breast still haunted me as she smirked at me now.
Here I was, an outcast loser with zero immunity to women···.
Not to mention a complete motsolo—never once had a girlfriend in my life···.
Before I knew it, I had one arm clamped over my chest as I twisted sideways, trembling.
"Oh, sorry?"
"Ugh··· seriously···!"
"I said I'm sorry, didn't I? I'm Lee Suyeon. Twenty-three years old. Looking forward to having you around?"
The woman before me···.
She was older than me, wasn't she?
So—Lee Suyeon···.
No, I mean···.
I stared for a moment at the hand Suyeon extended toward me.
This was the first time I'd ever held a woman's hand···.
I hesitated.
Back when I was fat and ugly, I'd never even had the chance to touch a woman's hand.
Fidgeting, I clasped her hand in mine···.
A soft, yielding sensation flowed into my palm.
I was careful, half-afraid I might unconsciously start stroking Suyeon's hand···.
But somehow, it felt like she was the one blatantly caressing mine.
What's this?
Was I imagining it?
I brushed it off and looked up at her, introducing myself.
"I'm Kim Minsu. Twenty-one. Nice to meet you too···."
"Hm? Kim Minsu? Isn't that a man's name?"
"Ah, well, you see···."
I had no idea how to explain it···.
Then, lowering my head, my eyes landed on my nametag.
Mine was red···.
The woman before me wore a yellow one.
Only inmates participating in the Sex Change Rehabilitation Project were permitted to wear red.
"Well··· you could just look at my nametag···."
"Oh? So you used to be a man?"
"Huh? Really? You believed that easily?"
"Well, the guards here mention it—former male death row inmates show up pretty often."
"Huh··· then are there others like me? Other death row inmates, I mean?"
"Yeah, there should be two more···. But···."
"Huh? What is it···?"
As Suyeon looked me up and down without a shred of subtlety, licking her lips like she was savoring a meal···.
I froze.
What was she keeping from me···.
Why did she seem to be stalling?
"Oh, it's nothing."
"Ah, okay···."
Was I imagining it after all?
Something told me my prison life was going to be eventful in every possible way.
Ah···.
What was this uneasy feeling gnawing at me?
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