All Entering the Water Together - 11
"Hey, hey! Isn't that weld over there a bit off?"
"Looked fine from my side... Huh, yeah, it does look weird. Hang on a sec. I'll fix it right now."
The mercenaries weren't exactly the type used to hammering or sawing. Sure, they'd done some construction or crafting now and then just to fight or survive, but at their core, they were warriors.
But right now, they were building furniture and beds. Not for anyone else—for themselves.
"Damn..."
They worked diligently. Still, every now and then, one of them would zone out, mouth agape, lost in some fantasy. The other women didn't bother snapping those dreamers out of it. Anyone here could've slipped into those thoughts a few times while working—it was inevitable.
Once you'd been taken by that man, you couldn't just erase everything that happened that day like it never occurred.
"Hnnngh... Uh."
The woman snapped out of it, glanced around to get her bearings, and got back to building. It wasn't even about love or respect for him— they needed to finish this fast for their own sake.
They'd won their freedom, and now they were building the facilities to enjoy it.
"We're getting the hang of this cage too—hope they don't toss it out."
"When the boss... er, Master brings in new slaves, maybe those bitches'll end up in there?"
"Kinda wasteful, though. See that gap in the bars? When I was really bored, I'd scratch at it with my nails, made a little dent. Big enough to fit a finger through."
"When the hell did you do that? Shit, no wonder I kept hearing scratching every day."
"I was bored... Couldn't help it."
They burst out laughing, eyeing each other. It wasn't some girly sentimentality—lately, they just laughed a lot.
Everything was going smoothly.
"Eh, doesn't matter anymore anyway."
They'd found their freedom. More precisely, like Kim Soi, they'd offered their free will and bodies to that man without reservation and been granted nominal freedom in return.
But to them, even that nominal freedom was pure bliss.
"Doesn't this look too rough? Maybe we should sand down the edges..."
"Nah. It's not that bad— we'll smooth it out when we oil it later."
"Hmm..."
They'd been decently successful mercenaries. And that's exactly why they knew the true value of a "safe hideout."
"Fuck, my heart's racing. Hey, the beds we're making... How much you think it'd cost to crash in a spot like this?"
"No way I'd pay my own cash for it. Man... Thinking back, weren't those inn bastards lazy as shit?"
"Yeah... Laying us on what was basically the floor, then charging us like it was a real inn. Made my skin crawl."
In this world, safety was always an expensive commodity. Organizations with power knew that all too well.
No matter how unreasonable the orders, how brutal or inhumane the tasks—ignoring human rights entirely—few could resist. Because the organization provided "safety" to its members.
"Seriously... We're paying anyway, so why not make it comfy at least? If they'd bothered with shit like this, it wouldn't have felt like such a ripoff."
And those organizations often sold that safety to outsiders at a premium. A typical group's inn was the prime example of that "packaged safety."
Mercenaries had to shell out insane amounts to hole up in rundown dumps. Compared to that, building their own homes now was nothing short of paradise.
"Honestly, if it was inn room or jail cell, I'd have to think twice."
"Only issue is you can't leave the jail. For just sleeping? A hundred times better. At least this ain't cramped like you can't move."
"Plus, it's a safe zone. Not just some walled yard—a real safe zone. No amount of money gets you in here. Living here's a privilege in itself..."
The chatter never stopped. The mercenaries kept swapping stories about how lucky and happy their choice had been.
"Honestly, figured we'd stay nobodies, so even a longer jail stint wouldn't raise eyebrows..."
"The upper-floor settlers are nice too. Thought we were kinda chummy, but didn't expect 'em to accept us so easy."
"Yeah..."
After turning them into slaves and taking them, Sunwoo had calmly considered others' opinions. He wasn't the only one who'd suffered losses from them. The surviving settlers had every right to rage.
But they'd accepted the mercenaries into the settlement without much fuss. To the mercenaries, it was all gratitude.
They couldn't stop grinning ear to ear. Separate from the cold vibes still lingering among the survivors.
Amid the women sitting on the beds, a long silence stretched out. It wasn't common.
They shared tight bonds, close enough to stick together through any hardship.
But now, they were gripped by jealousy toward others. Jealousy toward the mercenaries still sleeping in the jail.
"...Hate it."
The day Sunwoo and the mercenaries had their group session, the ones cleaning the bathhouse were the original settlement survivors. Nothing strange about that.
The women closest to him had other duties, and they couldn't waste his labor on mere cleaning.
They hadn't skipped cleanup entirely, leaving traces of the orgy for the next crew to find. He'd hosed down the semen and fluids. Imperfect, but a consideration for the cleaners.
The survivors couldn't even laugh it off in their state.
"Why them..."
One exception to the rules, one crack, was enough to ripple through everyone's minds.
The survivors had been shocked seeing former slaves casually get taken by him.
"We could do it better."
Working hard, repaying with their bodies, proving their worth, giving everything. The survivors were certain they could match most of what the mercenaries had done.
If it was just fighting, maybe not—but devotion to him? They'd be more sincere than those "uneducated" mercenaries.
So it grated. They wanted to lash out.
While they'd stagnated, the mercenaries had seized his touch, his cock, and their freedom.
"Haa..."
Of course, the survivors had agreed to it. When asked if the mercenaries could leave jail and earn freedom, they'd consented.
They had no choice. The strongest man in the settlement—the one they adored most—had made his desire clear.
They'd accepted them. Once he'd fucked the mercenaries, policing them now felt pointless.
Rationally, they knew. The mercenary group wasn't that bad, worked hard. Whether they truly repented was debatable, but their freedom wasn't a real threat.
Still, the jealousy burned. This was emotion, not logic.
The mercenaries had pulled one step ahead. While the first survivors he'd met toiled silently, most mercenaries had already offered their bodies.
"Girls, snap out of it! We ain't done for yet, right? Our chance'll come!"
One survivor rallied the others loudly.
"The more time together, the more affection grows... Nothing saying we can't too, yeah?"
"But..."
"Stay close to Master—no, Boss—and we'll see the light eventually."
Sunwoo hadn't considered how he'd approach other women of age. Nor imagined every single one craving him without exception.
No reason or need to. So his attitude stayed ambiguous.
That only made the survivors' hearts fester deeper.
"Let's work hard. Tomorrow, we all go in together—clean the bathhouse, sort all the cables and wires he dropped, put 'em away—"
The survivors sighed heavily. Tomorrow looked just like today, stretching on forever.