Counterattack Once More

"Ah—understood... I'll do anything for the Chairman's comfort. Please, instruct me however you like."

Kim Da-mi gathered her hair and retied it into a ponytail. The bare nape of her neck was strikingly sexy.

While I took a bite of my hamburger, she slowly lowered my pants.

When my erect cock sprang free, she startled and swallowed hard.

Her small mouth stretched wide as she leaned in, trying to figure out just how far she had to open to take the thick shaft.

The head slipped slowly into that strained, gaping mouth.

"Aum... mmph..."

She took it in a little, pulled back, opened wider, and pushed deeper again.

It wasn't skilled work. But she was giving it everything she had.

"That's it. Keep your teeth off it. You're doing fine."

Da-mi forced it deep into her throat, then eased back and worked me with a slow rhythm.

When she pulled off, she cradled the thing like treasure, lapping and swirling her tongue along it. The tip of her tongue traced down the shaft to my balls, sucked them, then swallowed me again.

Not polished—but a pleasant tongue all the same.

I reached for her chest, kneading and squeezing. Full, heavy natural breasts.

"Nnh... ah..."

At my touch she let out a soft moan, then unbuttoned her shirt and freed her tits so I could see them properly. D-cups at least—maybe F or more.

She presented them with a coy little posture, then met my eyes, flushed with embarrassment, and looked away.

While I groped her breasts and rolled her nipples, her mouth sank onto me again, taking me deep into her throat.

I finished most of the hamburger while receiving Kim Da-mi's blowjob, then spoke.

"Kim Ha-yoon."

The name of the other helper—the one from the café.

The moment I called for someone else, Da-mi's body flinched and trembled. Maybe she hadn't wanted anyone to catch her like this.

"Yes, Chairman."

Ha-yoon hurried to my side at once. Her face was full of fluster and confusion—flushed cheeks included.

"Bring more beer."

"Ah—yes, sir."

She darted to the kitchen and returned with a glass of beer over ice.

As she set it on the table, I reached out and caught her thigh.

Same black office look as Da-mi—skirt and black stockings.

"Ah..."

A sound slipped from her lips—moan or question, hard to say.

"Surprised by the way Da-mi's serving me?"

"N-no, sir."

As if determined to ignore our conversation, Da-mi bobbed her head even harder, sucking me with renewed effort.

"Think you could serve me too?"

"Ah... th-that... I... y-yes. I can. I-it would be an honor."

I made her bend at the waist and pulled her in. From where I lay, I claimed her mouth with mine.

My tongue pushed into Ha-yoon's mouth, and she accepted it, moving with me.

The hand between her legs felt heat. She was getting wetter by the second—no question.

When our lips parted, she spoke.

"Ch-Chairman..."

Her voice sounded almost tearful. Maybe the sudden kiss and touching had been too much.

"What? You don't like it?"

"N-no. I like it.... I just never thought it would happen this suddenly..."

She was practically confessing through tears. Why was she crying all of a sudden? How long had she even known ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, and she was already this gone? Another pretty-face junkie who melted the second she saw a good-looking guy?

I tore ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a small hole in the crotch of her stockings as I spoke.

"For now, just kiss me."

Her mouth met mine again. My fingers slipped through the torn stocking, shoved her panties aside, and pushed inside.

At the motion of my fingers in her soaked pussy, her whole body caught fire.

When night fell, I gathered my gear.

I'd filled Da-mi's throat with cum. She'd worked hard to catch every drop and swallow it down so nothing hit the floor.

Ha-yoon had twisted and writhed on nothing but my fingers, gushing slick like a faucet; the flustered women had fetched rags and scrubbed the floor clean.

Both of them were beauties, which put me in a good mood. If the household help was going to do chores, better they be gorgeous—and better still if I could fuck them whenever I got hard.

Maybe next day off I'd make them work naked except for aprons. Honestly, pleasure without the hassle or responsibility of a girlfriend was just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too good.

Even afterward, their attitude toward the work didn't change—but a faintly lewd atmosphere hung in the air.

Now it was time to wipe out the big-box supermarket bastards again.

For fighting alone, nothing beat the night.

Numerical advantage only mattered if people could coordinate tightly—and darkness made that hard.

Super Sensory let me see enemies even more clearly in the dark and sharpened my hearing far beyond a normal human's.

I geared up, hit the road, and circled the supermarket looking for targets.

A group that size would have patrol teams.

Before long I found a small pack of them. Weapons and bearing left no doubt—supermarket men. Six in total.

I killed my footsteps and closed in as near as I could.

A few strides away. Quietly, I drew the machete.

"So tomorrow we're really hitting the Grand River people for sure?"

"Yuk Gwang-cheol's leading it himself, they said."

"Fuck. I heard there's some monster over there. Can't we just sit tight at the mart and not fight?"

"Hell, right? We've got plenty of food anyway."

I slowed time with Super Sensory and charged.

They never even registered my approach until I drove the blade into the first man's back.

In that stretched-out time I cut them down one after another.

The last one managed to raise a shotgun and fire, but I slipped just off the muzzle's line and took his head.

So Super Regeneration was at 400 now.

At night, closing to melee range was almost too easy. The shotgun blast would have the rest of them on edge.

I couldn't haul every weapon off the bodies, so I grabbed what ammo I could and moved on.

I worked in until the supermarket's front entrance was in sight.

From roughly a hundred meters out, I stayed hidden and fired the Air Gun.

The man I hit clutched his chest and gurgled; the one beside him panicked and raised his gun. I reloaded and put a pellet through that one's head too.

"Emergency! Emergency! Enemy attack!"

"Everyone up! Grab your weapons!"

Shouts erupted. Bodies started scrambling.

A moment later I dropped the first fool bold enough to rush out. He took it in the side and screamed; the others bellowed toward the direction the shots had come from.

People began spilling out from other exits as well, not just the front.

From the main doors they opened fire my way.

I watched an air-gun pellet streak straight for my face, eased aside, and dropped another man. That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made four hits now.

I'd kicked the hornet's nest. Time to relocate.

I scooped up my weapons, rose, and ran into the alleys.

In the narrow dark I fought pure guerrilla style.

When they came in numbers, I sniped from range and ran. When they came thin, I ambushed and wiped them out.

To find a single man they had no choice but to split into teams—and once those teams got too small, their strength collapsed and they died in seconds. They figured that out the hard way.

Judging the situation too dangerous, they bunched a large force in one place—but in a tight alley there was nothing they could do with it.

All night it was the same loop: distant shots dropping men, pursuit that lost me, then a trudging return.

By dawn they'd had enough. They pulled back into the supermarket and barred the doors.

Thirty-seven killed over the course of the night.

A few small shotgun pellets and a couple of pistol rounds had grazed me, but most of it had already healed while the fighting was still going on.

As the sun climbed in the distance, a pistol bullet lodged deep in my side was pushed out through the skin and dropped to the ground with a soft tock.

I headed for the Grand River apartments to snatch whatever sleep I could.

I stretched out on the bed for a moment and opened my eyes. About two hours. My body still felt pretty good.

The second I stepped out of the room, the helpers hurried over as if they'd been waiting and handed me water.

"Miss Ryu Si-a and the Fighter are waiting at the door."

"Send them in."

The Fighter came in with a greeting. Looking at him, he seemed mostly back to normal.

"How's the body?"

"Not a hundred percent yet, but I'm almost recovered."

The moment we sat on the sofa, Ryu Si-a spoke in a rush.

"How did it go?"

"Guerrilla tactics. Dozens of them dead. They must've decided it wasn't working—they've barred the supermarket doors now."

"Wow... the supermarket people will never be able to beat you, Chairman."

"Right. At range my sniping is better, and up close they can't take me either. If they bunch into a big group, I just snipe from distance. Unless they dig up better weapons, they don't stand a chance. And it doesn't look like they have any more military-grade ability users at special-forces level."

Si-a's eyes sparkled as she spoke again. Even the way she fidgeted while talking was cute.

"About fifty of the people who fled yesterday came back. How should we handle them?"

The ones who'd fled—people who'd run outside the apartments when the supermarket force hit us.

"Why'd they come back?"

"Partly because this place is safe again... and partly because they learned the outside is anything but."

"They look pretty rough, don't they?"

"Most of them, yes... A woman who came back alone after raiders killed her family and kidnapped her sister... a man who returned after they took his lover... people who kept their lives but lost everything they were carrying... all kinds."

"What's your read, Si-a? Worth taking back in?"

"There are ability users among them, and quite a few men who can fight. But... they ran from battle out of fear, so I think the final call should be yours, Chairman."

"Then take them. If they're not complete dead weight, they'll be useful for something. They're not soldiers—freezing up and running is something that can happen to anyone. That alone isn't reason enough to turn them away. Besides, from here on I'll be handling most of the fighting myself."

There were a few other minor reports, but the meeting stayed short.

"H-hyung. I want to go out and fight with you! I want to help however I can."

"Good. Glad you came. I needed people today anyway—to strip weapons and gear off the corpses. Let's go together."

The Fighter hurried off to grab his kit, and I started packing my own gear and weapons.

"I... I want to come too."

"Si-a, you need to run the defense team. If not you, then who?"

She nodded, resigned. On a battlefield I could take a bullet and live—or dodge it. Ordinary people couldn't. One round and they were gone for nothing.

"Then please—be careful..."

I finished gearing up and headed out with the Fighter and about ten other men.

We'd seized so many guns from the supermarket crowd already that I could arm every one of them with a shotgun or a revolver.

On the way to the mart I had them scavenge weapons and ammo from the bodies I'd left scattered across the ground the night before.

We reached a point where the supermarket was in view.

Still no sentries outside. Doors still barred.

I stood with the ten men I'd brought in a spot clearly visible from the mart. Over a hundred fifty meters—not a range you hit easily with a gun.

I raised the megaphone I'd brought to my mouth.

"Listen well! You will never beat me! Surrender, and I'll spare your lives!"