Teaching the Line-Cutting Slut a Lesson

That shameless bitch.

Cutting in line right in front of a short, scrawny-looking guy.

The fact that she could pull a stunt this dogshit meant only one thing — she was another one of those bitches who'd been transported from the original world.

Old habits die hard.

Might as well check her out.

"Bojichang."

I whispered it so quietly it was barely an ant's squeak. Fuck. Nobody heard that, right?

Letters only I could see floated in midair.

"Check character info."

I locked my eyes on the line-cutting bitch.

"That dogshit bitch right there."

Ding!

Ding!

"Close character info."

Beep!

The Bojichang screen only I could see winked out.

Didn't seem like much of a bitch, honestly. Stats were garbage, and the only skills she had were line-cutting and blowjobs.

Wait — blowjobs?

I want a blowjob.

Fuuuuck.

But Big Boy down there wasn't reacting at all. This little bastard really was a unicorn, wasn't he? Refusing to deal with sluts? What a spoiled-ass dick.

She stood there with a Chanel handbag, one hip cocked out. Looked like she had zero manners. The dress was painted on so tight it screamed I work at a hostess bar from a mile away. The fabric was so thin you could see the black string panties underneath clear as day. Her ass was plump and bouncy — goddamn, it was ridiculously fuckable. God, I wanted to shove my cock in and grind against that thing.

I glanced around at the other guys. Every last one of them was just cursing her out with their eyes, looking completely flustered. Fair enough — this kind of absurdity was probably a first for them. In a gender-reversed world, none of them had ever run into a psycho bitch like this.

Alright. Time for me to step in. I'd taken enough shit in the original world — time to pay some of it back properly.

I called up the Bojichang again.

I was used to it by now. Fuck, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seeing that perverted screen this often, you adapt fast. Human adaptability is a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠terrifying thing.

"Activate Seondong skill."

Ah. Passive. Embarrassing.

No need to force it active — it triggered on its own. So that's why, yesterday at 2580 Hof when I went up against that short-haired crew, people got stirred up so easily and took my side. Nice. Got it. Very useful skill.

Seondong.

I strode confidently toward the tenpro room-salon girl, Jo Ara, and planted myself right in front of her. Looked her in the face.

Ah, fuck. This bitch had a face that made you desperately want a blowjob. Classic party-girl makeup, sex appeal pouring off her in waves. That little beauty mark under her eye made her look even more seductive.

Tenpro room-salon girl Jo Ara looked me over.

"What? You got something to say?"

With my face hidden behind a hat and mask, the bitch wasn't intimidated at all — just stood there bold as brass. If she'd seen my pretty-boy face, her pussy would've gotten so wet she wouldn't have been able to get a word out.

Hup— hup—

I did some diaphragmatic breathing and gathered my energy. First strike wins.

A scolding roar — HA!

I poured my energy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into a lion's roar and bellowed.

"Hey, lady! Why the hell are you cutting in line?!"

Tenpro room-salon girl Jo Ara flinched, just a little. First strike landed clean.

"You fucking bitch, can't you see people waiting behind you? You the only one who doesn't wanna stand in line? Nobody likes waiting in line, you piece of shit. You special or something? Entitlement off the charts, you psycho bitch. Get the fuck to the back before I slap that mouth of yours!"

How's that, bitch? Scared yet?

Yeah, well — this one wasn't going down easy.

"What, you little shit? The guy who gave up his spot isn't saying a word, so who the fuck are you to stick your nose in? What are you, the Starbucks sheriff? You fucking asshole?"

Mental fortitude tempered by rolling through tenpro rooms and hostess bars — she wasn't crumbling that easily.

Fine then. Time to use Seondong.

"Everyone! You all clearly saw this fucking bitch cut in without asking, right? God, what do we even do with a dogshit bitch like this? Zero conscience, cuts the line, then acts like she's hot shit and starts running her mouth."

Ding!

Ohhh. Bojichang was pretty useful — even had a little notification feature.

The guys who'd been hesitating started opening their mouths one by one.

"Yeah, I saw it too! That psycho bitch just cut right in without asking!"

"Hey! When the hell did I give up my spot to you? You just cut the line, plain and simple!"

"No need to drag this out. Call the cops. Police! A bitch like that needs to eat some prison food. Think South Korea is a pushover?!"

"Look at those trashy clothes. Why not just walk around naked? Somebody report her for public indecency!"

Aigoo. Gentlemen. You all got flowers in your mouths or what? Everyone was chiming in, but the impact was way too soft. A bitch like this needed a full-on group cuss-out, man-style, before she'd even start to flinch.

"Whatever, you retarded assholes. Fuck off, all of you. I'm buying first."

Under the group assault, tenpro room-salon girl Jo Ara activated her original-world max-level skill — Whatever, I Don't Care — and cut straight to the front of the line. True to her hostess-world roots, she had zero shame.

"Iced mocha, venti. And hurry up."

The barista working the counter was a woman. Jo Ara had calculated that a fellow woman would just take the order fast and let it slide — a carefully planned cut-in.

But oh, you fucking bitch.

That skill only works in Dogshit Korea. This is the Republic of Korea. The women living here have their heads screwed on properly. Don't you dare compare them to those Dogshit Korea feminist trash!

"What, you fucking bitch? Who the hell are you ordering around? And we don't sell coffee to conscience-free, pussy-haired bitches like you. Go sell your body instead, you whore!"

Starbucks barista unnie — nice shot! My insides felt wide open. Ah, that felt so fucking good. Seriously.

"Oh my god, oh my god — who are you cussing out right now? And what? You just told me to go sell my body? Hey! You fucking bitch! Get the manager! Manager! I'm gonna flip this whole Starbucks upside down today!"

A psycho bitch was still a psycho bitch. She wasn't going down without a fight.

I was about to step in again when the Starbucks kitchen door swung open and a solidly built woman appeared.

"I'm the manager. What's the problem?"

"Hey! You're the manager? How the hell do you train your staff?! Your barista just dropped a string of curses on me! I recorded the whole thing. Your business is finished, you fuckers."

The solidly built Starbucks manager heaved a deep sigh and looked at her barista.

"Jiyeon. Did you really curse at a customer?"

"Yes, Manager. That woman cut in front of all the people waiting and ordered first. And she was talking down to everyone."

"Haa. Jiyeon, even so, you can't just drop curses on a customer."

The solidly built Starbucks manager turned her gaze on tenpro room-salon girl Jo Ara.

"Ah, miss? Could you come a little closer? We'd like to offer you something by way of apology."

Jo Ara's ears perked right up. Starbucks was a global megacorp. Complain well enough and you could squeeze out massive compensation.

"What is it? Hmph. Trying to smooth this over with some cheap coupon now, huh? Something that pathetic won't cut it."

"Yes, yes, I understand. Just lean in a bit... it'd be awkward if the others overheard."

"Hmph. Fine..."

Jo Ara, pretending she was doing them a favor, stepped up to the counter and put her ear close.

The Starbucks manager leaned in toward her.

"So, you see, it's not much, but..."

"Not much, but?"

"You crazy bitch. Look at you concentrating. You stinking slut — this is all a bitch like you deserves."

Whoooosh!

The solidly built Starbucks manager, flipping on a dime, grabbed a water pitcher and dumped ice-cold water over Jo Ara from head to toe.

"Kyaaaaaah! You— you crazy bitch for real!!! You fucking bitches!!!"

Soaking wet, Jo Ara shrieked. And fuck me — that dress was plastered to her body. Black bra and black string panties fully exposed. Her bouncy tits jiggled with zero filter. That ass stuck out so round and plump it made me desperately want to hit it from behind.

"I'm not letting you fucking bitches get away with this!!!!"

Jo Ara screamed and charged the solidly built woman manager behind the counter, hands reaching out like she was going for her hair.

But the crazy bitch still hadn't read the room. The women of this gender-reversed world had survived cutthroat survival-of-the-fittest since school lunch. Fall behind and you became the bread shuttle. They poured blood, sweat, and tears into physical training.

Whoosh!

The sound of air being cut.

Thud!

The sound of a clean, solid hit.

Crash!

The sound of a crazy bitch taking a punch and slamming into a chair.

"Hey, you psycho bitch. Who the fuck do you think you're putting hands on, you worthless little slut."

Tremble, tremble. Aigoo, our manager unnie was pissed.

The Starbucks manager stomped toward Jo Ara. Blood was pouring from both of Jo Ara's nostrils. Any will to fight had long since left the building.

The Starbucks manager grabbed Jo Ara by the hair and hauled her upright. Aigoo, unnie, hit her again and she's crossing the River Styx.

"You fucking bitch. I was watching everything on the CCTV inside. Public indecency, disrupting business, disturbing public order — I'm reporting every last charge and locking your ass in a cell, so get that through your head. Oh, and since you swung first, you fucking bitch, this is self-defense. Right, gentlemen?!"

"Yes, of course!"

"Aigoo, that felt so good!"

"Manager, you're amazing!"

"We're all witnesses!"

The male customers cheered for the solidly built Starbucks manager. The bear-sized manager flushed shyly.

"Hey, you fucking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bitch. See that? If you got the message, get the hell out. Don't get your filthy nosebleed all over our store, you piece of shit."

Jo Ara staggered to her feet, roughly blotting the blood running from her nose with a tissue, and shuffled toward the Starbucks entrance. Then, still seething, she shouted back.

"You fucking assholes! I'm reporting every last one of you to the Ministry of Gender Equality! Just wait! We'll see who wins!"

"What?! She's still running her mouth?!"

The solidly built Starbucks manager looked ready to charge out after her. Jo Ara let out a eek! and bolted for her life, legs pumping.

Haa. That bitch still needed to suffer a bit more in this world. If you're dumb, at least study. Why the hell was she looking for a Ministry of Gender Equality that got abolished twenty years ago?