Plesto's Grand Festival and the Surfing Upset
The Prokho, carrying the Plesto group, pulled into the harbor of Plesto, the city on the 34th floor. But the atmosphere in the port was anything but ordinary. ‘♩~~♪♪~♬’ Vibrant flags fluttered everywhere, music echoed through the air, and people danced in the streets. Clowns and bands roamed about, performing lively tunes.
Unable to make sense of it all, the party looked puzzled until the captain gave a quick explanation.
“It's Plesto's annual grand festival.”
Everyone in Plesto was reveling in the celebration. The word festival alone made eyes sparkle across the ship, stirring excitement in every heart.
Namgung Seojun's Super Sense picked up on a strange vibe, leading him to one clear conclusion: they had to enjoy this festival. Before disembarking, he turned to his party members and the captain.
“We were planning three days here, right? Should we make it five?”
Everyone nodded in unison.
“Then we'll stay five days.”
“Woo-hoo!”
The party members, slaves, and crew erupted in cheers. Song Kang, the party's slave porter and backup deckhand, joined in the excitement. It was his first time experiencing a festival like this, after all.
“Line up.”
As the slaves formed a line, Seojun handed money to each one.
“Here's a special three gold each.”
The slaves cheered as they received their coins. Then it was Song Kang's turn.
“Master, I have to look after Miyun and Eunhye noona.”
“Got it. Take care.”
With that, Seojun gave him nine gold—three each for the trio.
Once all the slaves had their money, Namgung Seojun announced loudly,
“You're free for five days. But no causing trouble. You must be back on the ship before sunrise on the sixth day.”
“Yes, sir!”
The slaves rushed off the ship in a hurry, melting into the city to join the festivities. While the others disembarked, Song Kang had work to do. He divided the gold into three pouches, three coins each, then headed below deck.
Song Kang made for the room between the crew quarters and the combat slaves' lounge. Opening the door revealed a humid, musky atmosphere laced with a faint stench. In the center, on two beds, lay Park Eunhye and Shin Miyun, naked and asleep.
Their bodies were a pitiful sight. Park Eunhye was covered in small cuts and scrapes, with brands and tattoos etched across her skin. Especially around her pussy and asshole, dense floral tattoos hid nearly every inch of flesh. Shin Miyun was much the same—her pale skin starkly contrasted by multiple brands on both breasts, her mound, and her ass, marking her unmistakably as a second-class sex slave.
Caked in semen, the two slept on. Song Kang shook them awake.
“Miyun, Eunhye noona! Wake up.”
When they didn't stir, he shook harder.
“We've arrived in Plesto. The city's in the middle of a festival, and we're staying five days to rest. Plus, Master gave us three gold each to spend.”
At his words, Park Eunhye and Shin Miyun opened their eyes.
“We've reached the city?”
“There's a festival too?”
“Yes!”
Shin Miyun sat up first. Semen and piss dripped from her pussy and ass as she headed straight to the bathroom for a quick rinse. Park Eunhye followed, wiping the gunk from her body with a towel.
“Ugh... I'm beat... Song Kang, help wipe noona down.”
“Sure.”
Song Kang obliged, carefully cleaning her. Blood-mixed cum oozed from her asshole, so he applied a low-grade potion as usual.
“Ow, easy...”
“Got it.”
As he tended to her, a freshly washed Miyun called out from the bathroom.
“Unni, where are our clothes?”
“No clue... can't even remember the last time I wore any...”
With far more men than women on the ship, Park Eunhye and Shin Miyun handled the crew's lusts nonstop, living practically naked. They barely had time to dress before the next guy came at them.
Shin Miyun rummaged through the storage and found their clothes.
“Unni, got 'em. Hurry and get dressed—we're heading out.”
“Okay.”
Once dressed, the two women left the ship with Song Kang. Park Eunhye spoke up.
“Let's find a nearby inn first. I wanna soak in hot water somewhere that doesn't rock. You too, right, Miyun?”
“Yeah, unni.”
Spotting a sign, Song Kang led them to a nearby inn, paid at the counter, and headed up with them.
“Rooms 327 and 328. Small, but clean tubs with hot water.”
“Good job.”
“Nice.”
Shin Miyun entered 327 first.
“See you at lunch, unni.”
“Sure.”
As she went in, Song Kang handed her a pouch.
“Your spending money for five days. Back to the ship before sunrise on the sixth.”
“Thanks.”
Next door, 328 was Park Eunhye's room.
“Here's your three gold, noona.”
She checked the pouch immediately, then pulled out one coin and gave it to him.
“Go have some fun with extra.”
“No need, really...”
He hesitated, but when she urged, Take it, he accepted.
“Thanks for helping today.”
“No problem, noona. Rest well.”
Teasing him, Park Eunhye grinned seductively.
“Or... wanna do it with me before you go?”
Song Kang's face flushed. She noticed his dick hardening.
“Just kidding... what if you actually react? Even after all we've done, you still get hard for me that fast?”
“...”
Speechless, he stood there as she grabbed his hand firmly and pulled him into room 328.
Two hours later, Song Kang emerged from the inn with a satisfied look. Hungry now, he headed to the restaurant district, buzzing with festival prosperity.
“Try a free sample! Totally free!!”
“These tasty chicken skewers for just 50 bronze! Five for two silver!”
“Lunch special—meal and beer for five silver!”
“Plesto's signature feast for 10 silver. Feel like nobility!”
“Unlimited beer! Buy sides, beer’s free!”
Amid the clamor, Song Kang picked a crowded spot and enjoyed lunch with beer.
“Ahh, that's the stuff!”
Cool beer with fresh seafood specialties—pure bliss.
After eating, he wandered the city. Events everywhere, and he soaked in the festive vibe while sightseeing.
“But... everyone's with a partner.”
Most folks roamed in couples, leaving him feeling a bit lonely.
“Something solo-friendly... oh?”
A massive poster caught his eye: a huge surfing contest on the coast.
Surfing Arena
“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for joining us at the surfing arena for this year's surfing tournament!”
As Song Kang arrived, the emcee boomed through a mana mic, met with roaring cheers. He grabbed a seat quick and scanned the arena—a massive pool with a mana-powered wave generator inside.
“The highlight of our city festival—the surfing contest begins!”
A bang and confetti filled the sky at the start. Cheers, applause, and whistles erupted; Song Kang clapped along.
“This tournament has 769 entrants! Prelims select 15-minute survivors; finals crown the longest rider!”
Song Kang listened eagerly, buying beer and popcorn from vendors while watching.
“First prelim group: numbers 1 through 50!”
Fifty surfers entered on boards.
“Ready... set... go!”
Waves crashed; surfing commenced.
“Number 33! A fantastic trick!”
“17 down—eliminated!”
“12's got smooth moves.”
“Who'll advance?”
“7, 12, 33, 39 riding strong—expect qualifiers here.”
Song Kang enjoyed the live commentary. But there was more fun: betting.
“7! My 10 silver's on you!”
“33's gotta win! No doubt!!”
“33! 33! 33!!”
Official bets on winners drew crowds into a frenzy. Song Kang held off but planned to wager a gold. Snacking and sipping beer while watching was plenty entertaining.
“Next group: 300 through 350.”
Prelims halfway done, the 300s entered. As they boarded up, Song Kang blinked in disbelief.
“Huh? Why?? Master here??”
Among them was Namgung Seojun, number 332 on his chest, riding a hastily bought surfboard. Provoked by Pinara during festival fun, he'd joined reluctantly. Grumpy, but committed now—no half-assing it.
Spotting him, Song Kang thought, This is it! He rushed to the betting stand.
“Three gold 88 silver on 332!”
Dumping his pouch, the vendor looked worried.
“332's a rookie—max odds, five-to-one... no refunds. Lose, and it's gone.”
Song Kang nodded; the vendor issued the ticket. Back in his seat as the emcee shouted,
“Go!”
Waves rolled; surfing began.
“302 out—gone at the start!”
“308 falls stylishly.”
“311! First-timer holding strong.”
“328 was top 10 last tourney—impressive as ever.”
“332's riding well too.”
Seojun balanced via Super Sense, instinctively reacting to every shift.
“328! 332! 341 remain!”
Ten minutes in, three left. Emcee bellowed,
“Let's heat it up—fever time!!”
Waves intensified.
“Mega waves! How long can they last?!”
341 wiped out first.
“341 gone! Now vet 328 vs. rookie 332! Who advances?”
Both endured fever time five minutes. 328 fell first.
“328 down! Upset! Newcomer 332 advances!”
As Seojun qualified, Song Kang shot his fist up.
“Yes! Knew it! I believe!!”
He cheered wildly from the stands. Song Kang never doubted Seojun—he was always the victor.