Chapter 127
Chapter 127
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: Park So-jin's Submission
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That's when I become the "thug."
Park So-jin's submission.
That was the signal. The two half-assed investigators who'd taken bribes from her and gotten involved in this mess vanished from my office like ghosts.
I jerked my chin toward the "big lug" groaning on the floor.
"Lee Suhee. Dump that bastard somewhere out of sight."
Lee Suhee dragged the hulking guy with the broken legs into the "secret sex room" in one corner of the office, hauling him along effortlessly like a sack of cotton.
Now, the only ones left in this vast CEO's office were me, Park Sojin kneeling before me, and Choi Yang, who'd watched the whole thing. Just the three of us.
I sat back in my chair and grabbed Park Sojin by the hair, yanking her forward.
Then I shoved my cock into her mouth.
Sitting in my chair, I looked down at the crown of Park Sojin's head as she knelt before me.
Like a loser who'd had everything stripped away, she quietly and mechanically took me into her mouth and started moving her tongue.
At first, I thought it was just your run-of-the-mill blowjob.
But after a little time passed, I realized something was different.
Her technique was...
Not like Chaewon's style, which poured everything into a storm that shattered her partner with overwhelming climaxes.
No, it was ruthlessly calculated and precise.
Her tongue moved like a surgeon's scalpel that knew the exact location of every sensitive nerve—
precise, meticulous, relentlessly targeting only the centers of my pleasure.
There wasn't a single unnecessary motion.
Her lips created a perfect vacuum with just the right pressure, drawing all the blood straight to my cock.
Her hands worked in perfect harmony with her mouth, fondling my balls and perineum like a master playing an instrument.
Even in the cold rationality of Post-Nut Clarity, I felt pleasure rising again from this flawless "service."
'How many years has she been whoring for those old FSS geezers?'
I marveled inwardly.
Her cocksucking skills were on par with Chaewon, my personal milking machine.
Savoring her unexpected technique, I began sorting out my next steps in the clarity of Post-Nut Clarity.
"Hoo... fuck, you suck cock like a pro."
I gently stroked her head and interrogated her like it was a deposition.
"Answer while you keep sucking. First off, you're running a two-track operation, right?"
At my question, her tongue faltered for a moment.
"One track's the money from the FSS old-timers covering your ass. The other is you pocketing cash on the side, rolling dirty money for those gangster scum down below. And the one that went south this time... just happened to be the gangsters' cash, huh?"
"...Slurp... ha... yes... that's right."
A humiliating moan escaped her mouth along with her affirmative answer.
I had the rough outline now.
The reason a sharp bitch like her had come to me so stupidly and recklessly.
It was "desperation."
From Park Sojin's perspective, this wasn't something she could wrap up neatly by dealing with just me.
Dangerous bastards.
The kind who'd rip out her organs and sell them or ship her off to some island brothel if there was a loss—they'd make her cover it no matter what.
For her, filling that hole was the same as saving her own life.
I gently gripped her hair.
"Sss... ha... there, under the glans... hoo..."
Guiding her technique, I threw out the final question.
"...Judging by how desperate you are, it's quarterly settlements on the investment funds, right? And that deadline's creeping up fast."
"...Slurp... tch... yes, that's correct."
With her final answer, every puzzle piece clicked into place.
Now it was time to price her life exactly.
I lightly gripped her hair and forced her to meet my eyes.
"Loss amount. Exactly how much?"
"...12.1 billion... won."
The despairing figure crawled out of Park Sojin's mouth in a near-whisper.
I tilted my head at her response.
My Post-Nut Clarity supercomputer remembered my profits exactly.
"Didn't I skim just over 10 billion from your farm?"
"......"
Instead of answering, she bit her lip harder.
I caught the meaning of her silence and smirked.
Finally, admitting her defeat, she spilled everything.
"...After you left, the charts completely tanked... a few times."
I suppressed the laugh bubbling up unbidden and looked down at her, now collapsed before me, having lost everything.
"So, what now?"
"...Please... spare me..."
A pitiful plea for salvation finally leaked from her mouth.
But I crushed even that last shred of pride without mercy.
"Why should I?"
Leaning back in my chair, legs crossed, I appraised her like merchandise.
"Your face, body, cocksucking skills—they're top-notch... but I don't share with old FSS geezers."
Her face went deathly pale at my words.
I'd outright denied the value she might have banked on as a "woman"—her only potential weapon.
She had no use left as a "cunt."
But the cold logic of Post-Nut Clarity pierced her true "value."
'Having one of my own in the Financial Supervisory Service.'
In this eat-or-be-eaten investment world, that was an irreplaceable constant guaranteeing victory.
I decided to give her one last chance.
'Prove your real value yourself.'
She somehow read the meaning in my icy gaze.
Her hand moved to the buttons of her blouse.
Unfastening them one by one, slowly and mechanically, she began reciting her "product specs."
"Height 172 cm, weight 58 kg."
The blouse slipped down her shoulders, revealing a black bra.
"Bust C-cup. Waist 25 inches."
She recited her measurements calmly, like a butcher listing meat cuts.
Next, her hand went to the zipper of her skirt suit.
"Lost my virginity at twenty to a boyfriend I'd dated for three years."
The skirt fell silently to the floor.
Now all that remained on her body was the black lingerie set.
"Since then, exactly fourteen men. From jiu-jitsu gym owners to regular host bar pros... varied."
I listened to her dispassionate confession with interest.
Finally, her hand reached the bra clasp.
"Preferred play was doggy over missionary. Bondage, light toys... experienced."
The bra came off, exposing her breasts under the office fluorescents.
She paused for a moment.
Then she revealed the most humiliating "spec" last.
"And... every man I've been with... praised my pussy as legendary."
She laid herself bare, holding nothing back.
I listened to her desperate "self-introduction" with emotionless eyes.
Then I nodded at her last remaining garment.
"Not taking off the panties?"
Her shoulders trembled at my words.
"And... how many guys are 'using' you right now?"
My final question stripped her soul naked—the most humiliating demand.
She clenched her lips and held out for a moment.
But under my cold gaze, her last resistance crumbled.
With shaking hands, she slid down the final black lace panties herself.
Then, in a hollow voice of total surrender, she confessed her present.
"..........The Investigation Bureau Chief..."
She paused, then added in an almost inaudible whisper.
"...my current... boyfriend."
She revealed her entire past and present without omission.
I looked up at her silently from my chair.
For the final "inspection," I commanded curtly and coldly.
"Spread."
Her body stiffened.
Like grading livestock, I tapped the inside of her thigh with the back of my hand.
At that insulting gesture, she abandoned even her final resistance, slowly—very slowly—spreading her legs.
I gazed at her newly exposed secret like an appraiser.
Not excessively hairy or unkempt.
Rather, the moderate pubic hair was neatly groomed, like a professional's touch.
Her "pussy" was flawless, plump, perfectly symmetrical.
Not neglected nature.
The meticulously "maintained" pussy of an "elite" who knew her value and kept it in prime condition.
I nodded with a satisfied smile.
This "product" was right up my alley.
With a satisfied smile, I nodded for her to get dressed.
Swallowing her humiliation, she silently gathered and put on her clothes.
To her, I announced the final condition of this "contract."
"I don't share with other guys. Dump the boyfriend today."
I paused, then raised the most important issue.
"And... what about that bureau chief geezer? He's your backer, right? Not easy to cut ties."
She paused mid-dress at my question.
Then came an answer so unexpected, laced with total surrender.
"...He's retiring next week."
That one line slammed every puzzle piece home in my Post-Nut Clarity brain.
"Hmmm..."
I let out a long sigh of admiration.
Then I spelled out the "truth" I'd just pieced together for her.
"Before your old backer retires, you teamed up with the gangsters for one last big score, padding your pockets... but I crashed the party and fucked it all up, huh?"
She had no more excuses for my deduction.
"...Spot on."
As the defeated whose everything I'd seen through, she could only weakly concede it all.
Leaning back in my chair, I made my final assessment of this new "possession."
"Good. As a cocksucker, you pass. I'll let you live."
I spoke in the voice of a merciful master.
"I'll help you cover that shortfall you defaulted on."
Her eyes flickered faintly with hope at my words.
I crushed that light with the next.
"Now... show me what you're really good at."
"......"
"If all you do is suck cock this well and pull stupid shit like today... you'll just be my cocksleeve forever."
I gave her a choice.
"If you've got other talents... you get the idea. You know how far I'm gonna climb. If you wanna ride this 'Kim Cheolsu Coin' right, don't brag about your common pussy like every other bitch—PR your unique 'real deal' to me."
...Well,
For me, having Park Sojin in a high FSS position was already a straight win on paper.
But I didn't spell it out.
She could figure that math herself.
This was just me getting off on watching this top-tier elite bitch from Korea's best university "sales pitch" herself like merchandise to a fuckup like me.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And Park Sojin...
Was the type who knew exactly how to meet a customer's "needs."
She bit her trembling lip for a moment, then opened her mouth to sell her true "value."