No-Go Zone
The residents of the refugee camp had been watching long before Sora ever set foot inside.
Makes sense.
Her figure was stacked. Her face was pretty. Looks that worked no matter East or West.
"Their eyes didn't look normal from the start."
"How so?"
"Like they were saying, 'Just take one more step in here.' That kind of look…"
Overseas, it was easy to become a target for sex crimes. Especially in a place like this refugee camp.
If this were Hunter × Hunter, it'd feel a bit like Meteor City.
Law and common sense didn't apply. Something hard for a Korean to grasp. You realized it in an instant. The moment your eyes met theirs, you knew whether you wanted to or not.
"If you'd gone in, it really would've been dangerous."
"W-what?"
"You're asking because you don't know?"
"Don't say it like that…"
She clung to my hand, trembling. A rare reaction from Sora, who was always so bold.
Sure, some refugees settle down properly.
But coming to someone else's country and building a no-go zone? You didn't need an explanation for how abnormal that was.
"That's why the signs are posted."
"What does it mean?"
"No-Go Zone. That place is extraterritorial—even the police have given up on it."
"?!"
Their entire baseline of common sense was different. If the police tried to control them, they simply made sure the police couldn't enter—using force if necessary.
The media was still hush-hush about it.
All because of that damn human rights talk.
Europe especially had a strong current of refugee protection. Politicians stepped in to cover it up, but—
"This is the reality."
"Yes…"
"Scared?"
"I'm scared. I'm shaking. You're so mean, sunbae."
It was only a matter of time. Only after they fully took root would people beat the ground in regret.
Drip. Drip-drip!
I'd only given her a tiny taste. Even that seemed to have hit her pretty hard.
"Quit producing juice already."
"It was really scary…"
"Just from locking eyes?"
"It was my first time experiencing anything like that, okay? What am I supposed to do?"
She suddenly went full emotional appeal. I had to take her all the way back to the hotel before she finally calmed down.
Yeah, you don't run into this kind of thing in Korea.
Real criminals. Completely different beings. You only felt it in your bones once you saw them yourself. Just meeting their eyes had been enough for her to understand.
Sora sat on the bed, still trembling.
"Walking around with a body that sexy is partly your fault too."
"Huh?"
"Honestly, it's hot as hell."
"Is that what you're saying right now?!"
You could almost feel sympathy for her. But by global standards, it got interpreted differently.
That's just how social perception works.
A woman built like Sora—curves that could stop traffic. Tempting people with those tits and that ass was considered partly her own fault.
"Sunbae, you're a real psychopath, aren't you?"
"Calm down."
"Do I look like I can calm down right now?"
"Outside Korea, that's how you have to think."
You had to look out for yourself. Taking interest in a dangerous place was the mistake.
Honestly, Korea is just too safe.
Live overseas for even half a year and you realize how special Korean public safety really is.
"I looked into it before coming, but Europe didn't seem that different from our country."
"Because the common sense is different."
"Common sense?"
Koreans lived without thinking about crime even once. Foreigners always kept the possibility of crime in mind.
Korea has that crime rate even when people let their guard completely down.
Overseas, crime was everyday life. You had to be careful if you didn't want to become a target.
"I heard Korea actually has higher sex crime rates…"
"From those women-only communities you hang out in?"
"I don't go there anymore!"
Even the definition of crime was different. Most things didn't even get classified as sex crimes.
Korea's the only country where just brushing past someone counts as a sex crime.
At minimum you needed penetration. And even with penetration, if the woman didn't resist fiercely, it was treated as consensual.
"Does that even make sense?"
"Sense or not, that's just how it is."
"No, how could…"
"You've just been living in too happy a world until now."
Someone steeped in Korean common sense might find it uncomfortable. But try demanding that standard from people here—
Overseas, they won't listen.
Overseas investing. This was one reason it was inevitably hard. You had to align your own common sense with global standards.
For Sora, it was hard to accept. The reality felt too harsh and unfair.
"You're so mean, sunbae."
"About what?"
"You're supposed to comfort me first. Do you have to talk like someone with zero empathy?"
Just empathize already! I could have. But as an investor—
I didn't think this counted as some huge hardship or adversity.
Sora's eyes were turning red. Before she was an investor, she was also a female.
"Do you know how scared I was?"
"Mm."
"Do you want to jump me too, sunbae?"
"…"
Sora was coming in serious. The atmosphere said I'd better answer carefully.
Of course I want to tap that.
She was hugging her knees. Even so, those long, beautiful thighs stretched out, and above them sat that sensual ass. Any man would want to grope it.
"Well, I cherish you as a junior."
"Be honest."
"I just want to spread those legs and do Yass right now."
"Want me to let you?"
I just couldn't. If I'd had the experience, I'd have gotten her drunk first and taught her the real taste of sex.
Taking a first time is just too much pressure.
I had trauma about it. Maybe this incident would make Sora develop an aversion and push men even further away.
"Talking to you always makes me feel like the idiot."
"You already are one."
"Ugh!"
She seemed a little calmer. But she still said her heart was racing and clung tightly to my arm.
Guess it really did scare her a lot.
Normally she was careful not to let that part touch me. Right now she wasn't even thinking about it. Sora's firm breasts pressed right against my arm, impossible to ignore.
"Hey, your chest is touching."
"So what."
"Your tits are insane."
"They always have been."
It felt like I was getting a full-on paizuri. Never thought my arm would get the treatment before my dick.
Good grief.
Trauma. By Korean standards, something like this could easily create it. She'd grown up like a flower in a greenhouse. For now, I cut her some slack.
"Originally we were supposed to stay one more day."
"I want to leave soon."
"Alright."
Bad memories diluted once you left them behind.
European travel. The advantage was being able to hop between multiple countries.
Because they all belong to one community called the EU.
What that actually meant—nothing beat experiencing it yourself.
"This is Italy?"
"Yeah."
"I've always wanted to visit Italy once…"
"We already passed through Austria while you were asleep."
"What."
We were on a train. After one night's sleep we'd gone from Germany through Austria and were now cutting across Italy.
Yeah, it's novel enough.
Korea. People said it was surrounded by sea on three sides, but in practice it might as well have been four. So for Koreans, overseas = airplane was common sense. Europe didn't work that way.
"I'd heard about it, but experiencing it myself is amazing."
"This is why the EU is even possible."
"I guess so."
Our destination was near Bordeaux, France. When people talked about Europe's most famous drinks, wine ranked right up there with beer. But Sora still seemed to have lingering regrets. Since we were already here, she'd wanted to stop in Italy too.
"Isn't Italy famous for wine as well?"
"It belongs to the so-called Old World, yeah."
Italy was famous for wine too—more the affordable stuff than the expensive bottles.
Lately even that market share is getting stolen by the New World.
Prosecco, Moscato d'Asti, Amarone and the like still sold well. Their slice of the wine world wasn't small.
"Then why…"
"Italy's more famous for other things than wine."
"Like what?"
"We can probably order some right here."
There was a reason it was G7. Cultural influence had soaked into ordinary people's daily lives.
Clack!
Perfect timing—meal service. As expected of an expensive train, they served a proper formal meal.
"An Aperol Spritz as the aperitif, and for something to drink with the bread, an Arnold Palmer staggered a bit later."
"Order received."
"Cocktails?"
"Yeah."
Cocktails made by mixing alcohol. People tended to think of it as American culture, but—
Where do you think America got its influence from?
A young country. Immigrants built it, and the booze side was dominated by Italian immigrants.
"Limoncello, amaretto, Campari, Aperol, maraschino, Fernet-Branca—most of the famous cocktail base spirits are Italian."
"Oh…"
"When you run into a liquor you don't recognize—not whiskey, not cognac—if you just guess Italy, you're right about half the time."
In modern bar culture, Italy's influence was massive. It also paired beautifully with wine.
Clack!
Aperol Spritz. Italy's signature aperitif—Aperol mixed with sparkling wine.
"You mix it with wine?"
"In Korea wine gets treated like some elegant fancy drink, but locally it's just one of the traditional alcohols—like makgeolli."
In Europe it was common enough to mix with cola. Not a drink that demanded ceremony.
Gulp. Gulp!
The bitter-sour Aperol melted into the white wine. Perfect as an appetite-whetting aperitif.
Like an orange-flavored gin and tonic.
Sora was drinking it with real interest. Cocktails were popular with women.
"What's an Arnold Palmer?"
"Limoncello—lemon liqueur—mixed with iced tea. Just think of it as grown-up Lipton iced tea."
"Sounds cheap."
An adult iced tea. The taste was far more refined. Sora sipped and sipped until she'd emptied the whole glass before she knew it.
This is why cocktails are lady-killers.
No better booze for seducing a woman. Enjoy it with a meal and you might not even notice you're getting drunk.
Clack!
Main course. Of course it wasn't first-class level. Something that looked like roast chicken and pasta came out.
"No drink with this?"
"You already tipsy?"
"It's your fault, sunbae!"
We filled up properly. Only after that came a drink you were supposed to have.
Digestif.
If there was an aperitif, there was a digestif. After food, something strong suited best.
"Know what this is?"
"No idea."
"Shaken, not stirred."
"Ah—Martini!"
The martini itself was British. It got famous through the 007 series and Kingsman.
But the vermouth that goes in with it—
That was an Italian liqueur. A cocktail with European culture melted right into it.
"It tastes bad."
"Yeah, it does."
Taste was a separate issue. That was why I'd actually wanted to order a tuxedo.
It's based on maraschino cherry liqueur, so it goes down easy.
A cherry went in as garnish. Bite into it together and you could taste the cherry down to the pit. Unfortunately it wasn't available. Being on a train, complicated orders were off the table.
"I'm going to get drunk again starting from lunch."
"So what? We're on a train."
"What if I get jumped again? That'd be a problem."
Sora's cheeks flushed red. Somehow it didn't feel like it was only from the alcohol. She linked arms with me. Once the meal table was cleared, she stuck to me like gum again in the seat beside mine.
"You have to protect me no matter what, okay?"
"Why me?"
"Because it's your fault. I'm holding on until I wake up."
And then she drifted off, breathing softly, those ridiculously big breasts still crushing my arm.
What's with this girl, seriously.
Travel could change a person.