Chapter 181
Chapter 181
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 181
Chapter Title: All Parents Are Different
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All parents are different.
In the flood of sensations, I reigned like a god on a jade throne.
Han Yura under my right foot, Choi Yang under my left.
The soft, squishy feel of those giggling sluts' convulsing tits mashing against my soles wasn't half bad.
And at the center of it all was the lazy bliss of enjoying Chaewon's soft lips and tongue working me over.
Perfect peace. Perfect dominance.
Right in the middle of that sensation, my phone buzzed with a jiing-.
A bizarre state where languid, loosened senses coexisted with the sharp clarity unique to post-nut clarity.
I gently stroked Chaewon's head with one hand while grabbing my phone with the other.
On the screen was a single text from an unknown number.
[Um... this is Go Yuna. Go Miran's... daughter, so... your sister... I got a call from that 'Family Search' program... Please help me.]
'Go Yuna'.
'Go Miran'.
And 'sister'.
In my head, emotions stripped away, the info combined, analyzed, and reached a conclusion in an instant.
First, Cheon Myeonghwan found my birth mother.
Second, he engineered a crisis for her, forcing her to contact me.
Third, the 'Family Search Program' excuse was a crude play to make it all seem like coincidence.
Conclusion: That fucking old bastard's lost his mind?
Fuck... Mom... Mom... Mom... Mom... Mom...
Fuck, and a sister too...?
What the actual fuck? She ditched me and then popped out another one to cling to?
A torrent of disgust crashed in for info I'd deliberately avoided digging up.
Kkuuk-
Unable to contain the rage, my feet instinctively pressed harder into the sluts' tits beneath me.
I felt their bodies twitch and spasm, but the fury inside me didn't subside.
Even the hand that had been gently stroking my wife's hair clenched tight without me realizing.
"Eut... Cheolsu... it hurts..."
Chaewon's pained moan snapped me back to what I was doing.
But the rage that had erupted couldn't be stuffed back in.
I spat it out in a teeth-grinding voice, like a kid making excuses.
"Chaewon, I found my mom. And turns out, I have a sister."
Even with her hair yanked, Chaewon lifted her head, stared straight at my face, and caressed my cheek with her free hand.
Her eyes didn't scold or pity me.
They just understood everything.
"Cheolsu."
"Yeah..."
She dug right into the deepest wound with the most precise words.
"Don't bitch out. Go meet her."
"........."
That one line vanished all the rage and self-pity dominating my head like a lie.
My wife knew exactly how to handle me.
Chaewon's words were, as always, spot on.
I got up without a word. The bitches sprawled at my feet flinched away in surprise.
I shrugged off the annoying robe and changed into the comfiest tracksuit shoved in the corner of the closet.
Down in the underground garage, dozens of supercars greeted me covered in dust.
Sat in the driver's seat for the first time in ages and turned the ignition.
Had I gotten too used to Lee Soohee always driving?
I fumbled around like an idiot looking for the engine start button.
Finally got it running and punched the address into the nav.
'Busan.'
Seeing the ETA on screen, a curse slipped out unbidden.
Fucking ages away, shit...
No way this perfect peace and sharp post-nut clarity would last all the way to Busan.
My dick was starting to twitch already.
Post-nut clarity ends when I get there, right?
Fuck it. Just buy some pussy with cash, whatever...
Busan's gotta have condition girls, no?
If that's too much hassle, hit up a room salon...
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Just a few months ago, I was getting a handjob from Han Yura in a rundown academy building for 50,000 won...
Now dropping millions on room bangs felt totally normal.
Fuck, I've made a shit-ton of money.
Lost in those trivial thoughts, I floored the accelerator.
The multi-hundred-million-won engine roared, bursting out of the dark garage.
I was speeding toward the most loathed, long-ignored past of my life.
Paju's green scenery whipped by beyond the bulletproof glass, vanishing behind.
The streets I ruled, the people I'd tamed.
My familiar kingdom shrank to a dot in the rearview, then disappeared.
Like a pilot trapped in a spaceship time-warping backward, I stared only at the asphalt ahead.
Gyeongbu Expressway.
Korea's grandest, sturdiest artery.
On it, my supercar surged like a foreign body in a vein, overwhelming everything around.
The scenery lost meaning.
Endless fields and paddies, indifferent green mountains, sleepy rural roofs.
All blurred past at uniform speed, leaving no trace on my world.
Only the engine's roar was real.
Rhythmic, powerful, like a heartbeat.
In that vacuum of noise, repressed thoughts bubbled up.
Go Miran.
Go Yuna.
The names rolled rough and alien on my tongue, like grains of sand.
41 years.
20 years.
Their time I knew nothing of.
Even after ditching me, they'd built their own history.
Primal rage from 'mom' tangled with alien betrayal from 'sister', boiling inside.
I floored it harder without thinking.
The beast roared again, devouring the road.
This sprint was rage's outlet and a desperate flight from its source.
How long did I drive?
Suddenly, the air's scent shifted.
Dry inland gave way to briny, salty sea filling my lungs.
I snapped to: Busan.
End of the highway's uniform world.
The city of the woman who'd birthed and dumped me—a place I'd never ruled.
The nav announced the destination neared.
Busan's tangled, unfamiliar roads.
I eased off on the supercar.
Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart, oddly, picked up pace bit by bit.
My head swirled with random thoughts.
Chaewon's face, the woman who ditched me, the sister I'd never seen.
End of post-nut clarity.
The return of pathetic Kim Cheolsu.
"Fuck."
I cursed, yanking the wheel into the nearest red-light district alley.
Had to bury these shitty feelings right now.
Quick phone search for the closest room salon sign, picked a room at random, and barged in.
Still early.
Disinfectant smell inside. A young waiter mopping the floor spotted me and said blankly,
"We're not open yet?"
"Don't care. Bring every girl on shift now."
I opened my wallet, grabbed a fistful of 50,000-won bills, stuffed them in the waiter's shirt pocket without a reply, and entered a room.
I sank into the sofa reeking of cum and pussy juices from god-knows-who, lit a smoke, and the door opened with a mid-40s auntie flashing an awkward smile.
Fuck, city of pleasure my ass, what a letdown...
Water's off, huh?
The second I saw her mug, I bellowed,
"No thanks!!!"
But the auntie didn't flinch at my yell, asking with fake-ass smile,
"Sir, basic setup? Snacks and girls—what style...?"
Then it clicked.
Oh, the madam...
I smirked, stubbed out my cig in the ashtray.
"Full setup. Only room-bang ready ones. No minors."
She hesitated, eyes darting.
"Payment... how...?"
Liked her proper 25-year-old caution worrying about dine-and-dash first.
Tossed a black card on the table from my wallet.
"Handle the skim yourself."
Paju's donation angel descends on Busan.
Before the black card's 'skim whatever' majesty, the madam beamed with joy.
Face like she'd strip and spread on the table for a bang right then, shouting "Thank you, boss!" as she shut the door.
I stripped and jerked my dick in sync.
Perfect timing—the door opened, and decent-looking girls filed in one by one.
Awkward smiles, eyeing me cautiously.
I scanned their faces with a chin flick.
"You, you, you. And you."
The rest left with regrets. The four I picked stood awkwardly.
I gave the final order.
"Everyone else out. No drinking. Strip, you fucking sluts."
27CM.
Before my ever-evolving super dick, their loose cunts meant nothing.
Any random pussy turned meaty and gripping on insertion—miracle cock.
Still, I suited up with a condom.
No desire for some nameless bitch getting knocked up, pissing off Chaewon.
Or catching an STD and getting my ass beat by her.
I pounded the four mercilessly, finishing fair with facials.
Post-fuck, the tiny room stank of cum and piss from overwhelmed excitement.
Girls in various states.
One sprawled belly-down on the sofa, ass still twitching with aftershocks.
Two piled on the table in a pussy sandwich, shuddering.
And one tough slut who'd stayed conscious through my womb-destroyer, now pouring me whiskey beside me.
I downed her pour in one go.
Balls drained empty, the familiar sensation took over.
Post-nut clarity awakened.
Stepped out—sun had set.
How many hours of this bullshit...?
Fuck, a few more hours in the slammer won't kill me.
Thought drifted as I called Choi Yang.
[Yes, boss.]
"Lawyer arranged?"
[Yes, waiting at Busan precinct entrance.]
"Got it."
Hung up, slid into my parked car's driver seat, then remembered I'd been drinking.
Even I wouldn't DUI to a cop shop, right?
Casually got out, hailed a passing taxi, and gave the destination.
Toward the police station where a woman called 'mom' existed.