Tutorial
It had been almost a month since Yumin started working at Hojun's restaurant. It was a quiet lull after the lunch rush, when customers had thinned out. Yumin finished scrubbing the pile of dishes from the busy period and headed to the storage room to restock the fridge with empty bottles and such.
There was a small room in the restaurant, about two pyeong in size, where Hojun occasionally popped in for a break. To get to the storage room, Yumin had to pass right by its door. As he approached, a woman's voice drifted out from inside.
Yumin had never once rested in that room himself. Hojun wouldn't allow it. But had he given Huan permission? Curiosity piqued, Yumin pressed his ear lightly to the window facing outside.
He heard Huan's voice. But it wasn't her usual tone—it was a whimpering, breathy moan, the kind made during sex.
Her partner had to be Hojun. Yumin peeked through the narrow gap in the window. Sure enough, naked Huan lay on the floor with a blanket spread out, legs spread wide, while equally naked Hojun thrust vigorously on top of her.
"Ah... haa... ah..."
"Heuk... Huan... heuk... feels good..."
They were such a mismatched pair. The fresh 21-year-old Huan was cute and slender in her own way. In stark contrast, mid-40s Hojun looked late 50s with his half-bald head, his body layered in fat.
Even now, as Hojun embraced Huan's slim legs and rocked his hips, his sagging belly jiggled and slapped against her lower abdomen with every thrust.
It was a shock to Yumin in multiple ways. His first glimpse of unglamorous real sex was jarring, and so was the relationship between Hojun and Huan. He'd often seen Hojun groping or fondling her body. She never strongly resisted, but she didn't seem to enjoy it either.
Yet they were doing it? Shocking.
A few days later, when Hojun stepped out, Yumin got a chance to talk to Huan alone. He hesitated several times but mustered the courage to casually ask what her deal was with Hojun.
If she'd been Korean, he might not have dared. But since she was from Vietnam, it felt somehow different. And sure enough, Huan's story was desperate.
She'd come to Korea from Vietnam to earn money. While job-hunting, she'd ended up at this restaurant by chance. Two months in, she hadn't even received her first month's pay. Her visa was about to expire, so she needed that money, but Hojun kept putting it off with vague promises of "soon."
All the while, he sexually harassed her nonstop. At first, she refused, but he snapped back, "Fine, quit then!" His advances escalated until he demanded sex outright. "Do it just once, and I'll pay your back wages plus a bonus," he said. Desperate, Huan gave in.
But Hojun kept making excuses, never paying up, just demanding more sex. Huan was stuck—she couldn't quit without pay, and her visa clock was ticking. Reporting him might work eventually, but not before it expired. She'd leave empty-handed either way.
Her only option was to keep complying. So she continued letting Hojun have his way.
By the end of her story, Huan burst into tears. "My little siblings at home are waiting for me so desperately... I can't go back like this..."
A few days later, marking Yumin's own one-month anniversary at the restaurant—payday—he went to Hojun for his wages. Hojun claimed they'd agreed on two months, so he'd pay it all at once. When Yumin insisted on it now, Hojun smugly offered a bonus if he waited.
Having heard Huan's side, Yumin saw right through it—Hojun had no intention of paying. He demanded his pay firmly. Hojun promised "soon," then barked, "Can't wait? Don't you trust people?"
Yumin threatened to quit and take what he'd earned so far. Hojun dug in, refusing. Yumin even mentioned reporting him. Hojun just sneered: no proper contract, so good luck getting anything; try it if you dare. He hurled insults and chased Yumin out.
Yumin immediately researched his options, including for Huan's case. Much of what Hojun said checked out. Without pay stubs or solid proof, it'd go civil court—taking six months to a year, with no guarantee of winning. For Huan, chances were near zero. She'd end up whoring herself out just to leave broke for Vietnam.
It hammered home to Yumin once more: the law protects exploiters, not the compliant. As a newbie to society, he felt his inexperience acutely and learned the world wasn't beautiful.
He snuck back to the restaurant and told Huan everything. Hojun never planned to pay; legally, it was near impossible. But Huan chose to keep servicing him until her visa expired. Quitting now meant leaving broke anyway—she clung to faint hope.
Yumin never learned what became of her. But odds were, she kept giving her body to Hojun until she boarded a plane home penniless.
Whenever he recalled it, Yumin pitied Huan deeply. He hated his own powerlessness to help and this society that failed to protect the weak.
----------
Hojun and Sangmi entered the mission room and eyed each other. Mutual disappointment hit instantly. Each thought they'd drawn the worst possible partner.
Paradise's female participants were all beauties, regardless of personality—cute, sexy, intellectual, whatever. Except Sangmi...
The men were the same. Plenty of human scum, but decent height, builds, faces. Even the rough-looking ones had a rugged charm. Except Hojun...
Clueless to their own flaws, Hojun and Sangmi sighed at each other. Out of everyone, why them? Still, no skipping the mission.
They stripped and climbed onto the bed. Hojun, owner of a flabby gut; Sangmi, with her dumpy mortar-pestle figure. In some twisted way, they matched perfectly.
"Let's just get it over with quick."
"Yeah, fine."
"Gotta get hard and wet first... Not thrilled, but I'll touch yours if you jerk mine."
"Oh, trust me, I'm not either. What a sight."
"No time. Hurry up and finish."
"Got it."
Hojun caressed Sangmi's vulva; she kneaded his cock. As her folds moistened slightly, he fingered her pussy. She stroked his stiffening shaft in return.
Finally ready. Sangmi lay back, legs spread; Hojun slotted in between and penetrated.
He started thrusting. At first, just to bust a nut and bail. But after over a month of solo wanks in his cell, even Sangmi's dumpy body beat his right hand. He got into it, pounding earnestly.
Hojun was still single, but he'd honed skills bedding countless unpaid 20-something Vietnamese, Chinese, Filipina girls.
Sangmi was bummed—Hojun's looks, body, snide talk. She wanted back to her cell ASAP. But once he started railing her, it felt surprisingly good. Technique solid, his jiggling belly slapping her own oddly stimulating.
"Ah... hey... harder... aaah... good... haa..."
"Heuk... heuk... hurk..."
They went at it hard. Hojun sweated buckets, thrusting away; Sangmi bucked her hips in response.
"Heuk... gonna cum... hrrk..."
"Haa... me too... haa... cumming... haaang..."
Hojun creampied her as Sangmi climaxed. They might've disliked each other, but their chemistry was top-tier.
Congratulations! Did you enjoy your time? All participants, please return to your individual cells.
"Surprisingly good."
"Hey, you say the sweetest things. Yeah, better than expected for me too."
Unlike their entrance, Hojun and Sangmi left the mission room refreshed. Their impressions of each other had shifted dramatically.
By the time they reached the square, it was empty—the fastest disband after a mission yet. They headed to their cells.
----------
It had been over a month since Paradise's participants arrived. Outwardly, everyone seemed adapted, whatever their inner turmoil. Early defiance and mission refusals had vanished. No incidents; they just did their tasks quietly.
Sanghyeon's death likely drove it home. Before, Angel's threats topped out at three-day fasts. But his execution proved her words weren't bluff. Crucially, no mission penalty had killed yet—but it could.
This was just the tutorial adaptation phase anyway.
Sanghyeon's death shocked, but ripples were small. No close ties, and his scum behavior? Everyone felt relieved, like excising a tumor—though unspoken.
The central square had changes. Sanghyeon gone, for one. Mikyung, who'd witnessed it closest, now stayed in her cell outside missions—probably traumatized.
Yumin's group reverted to seven. Without the unwanted guest Mikyung, vibes improved. Not celebrating misfortune—they'd tolerated her without open hate or exile, which was generous given her life.
Another surprise: Hojun and Sangmi, rarely seen in the square before, now showed daily. Side by side at a corner table, chatting. Arms and hands moving under it suggested more than talk.
Was this skintship allowed? Or was Angel too busy snacking to monitor?
Time marched on regardless. And at its end, Yumin hoped for Paradise's exit.