Virginity Graduation (1)
Beep—
Beep—
Beep—
“Ten thousand won. The bag’s one hundred won—need it?”
“Yeah, please.”
I stuffed the purchased soju into a convenience-store bag and hurried back toward my studio apartment.
“Kinda nervous.”
I’d only ever fantasized about seducing a woman—never actually done it. This was my first real attempt, and my pulse fluttered with unbidden excitement.
“…Huh. Stay calm. Everything’s gone exactly to plan so far. Don’t get carried away and screw it up.”
I punched in the access code for the ground-floor door, then paused—heart hammering—to take a slow, deliberate breath before climbing the stairs to my fourth-floor studio. I needed to steady myself before the script even began.
“I’m home… What’re you doing right now?”
After composing myself, I keyed in the door lock code and stepped inside—only to find Lee Harin sitting cross-legged on the floor, already logged into my laptop with my password, deep into some online game.
“Sshh… Well, waiting for you was *so* boring, so I just played a quick round. Hehehe.”
When I stared at her, dumbfounded, she instantly scowled—ready to snap—but the second her eyes landed on the convenience-store bag in my hand, she froze. Her expression flickered like a faulty screen—anger dissolving into wary calculation—and she switched to soft, careful tones, as if tiptoeing around a live grenade.
Wow. If she weren’t an idol trainee, she’d already be a lead actress.
I suppressed a mental whistle at how seamlessly she flipped her face—and once again marveled at just how utterly, gloriously unhinged she was.
“Ugh. Fine. Go ahead. Keep playing.”
Yeah, I was pissed she’d casually cracked my laptop password—but I’d collect interest on that little transgression later. For now? Let her play. It was cheaper than therapy.
“Seriously, thank you, oppa!”
She had no idea what was brewing beneath my placid smile. All she knew was she got to keep gaming—and her grin bloomed, wide and guileless, as she dove back into her match.
Leaving her absorbed in pixels, I pulled the soju from the bag and slid it into the fridge—alongside the Tipsy Soju I’d pulled from my inventory earlier. I made sure the bottle blended in, indistinguishable from the regular stuff.
Then I settled onto the couch, scrolling YouTube clips while waiting for dinner to arrive.
“Wooow… That guy *still* isn’t dead?!”
“Fucking hell! What is our jungler *doing*?! He should’ve flanked *there*!”
“Oh my god—WHAT?! Why are we surrendering *now*?!”
[DEFEAT]
Harin’s cursing escalated—sharp, furious, escalating in pitch—until the laptop blared its humiliating defeat fanfare, and her shriek pierced my eardrums like a needle.
“@#$%&!@#!!!”
Tsk tsk. Knew it. Silver-tier player thinking she’s Faker. Loves games, hates losing, zero self-awareness.
I didn’t scold her. Just watched, arms crossed, with the weary pity of someone observing a toddler try to operate a jet engine. Though, fair warning—I was only Gold-tier myself.
Ding-dong!
Luckily, the delivery rider rang the doorbell *just* before Harin could rage-quit by smashing my laptop with a shotgun blast—saving both my hardware and my sanity.
“Ah—here it is! I’ll grab the food. You set up the drinks, oppa!”
The second that chime echoed, Harin—who’d been screaming profanities at her screen seconds ago—was already sprinting barefoot toward the front door, all traces of fury vaporized by the promise of alcohol. Watching her dash off like a hyperactive puppy chasing a treat… yeah. She was definitely my sister. And also, somehow, the least complicated human being on Earth.
Well, guess her simple-mindedness is working out for me. Makes her easy to manipulate—and honestly? Kinda refreshing.
Following her instructions, I pulled two shot glasses and the soju bottles from the fridge and arranged them neatly on the low table—Tipsy Soju discreetly mixed in with the rest. No labels. No fuss. Just smooth, seamless execution.
By the time I finished setting up, Harin had returned, dumped the steaming delivery boxes onto the table, and plopped down across from me, legs tucked under her like a contented cat.
“…Hey. Why’d you order sashimi?”
Honestly? Up to this point, I’d have shrugged and sat down without blinking. But the problem wasn’t the sashimi itself—it was the fact that she’d ordered *premium-grade raw fish* as her *snack*.
“Huh? Don’t you always eat sashimi with soju? Dad said so, too.”
Father…
I closed my eyes tight, jaw clenched, silently cursing the man who’d casually dropped that “wisdom” into her impressionable brain. She looked at me like I’d asked why gravity existed.
“Right. Sashimi with soju. Of course.”
I sighed inwardly—accepting the inevitable—and took my seat opposite her.
“Try it.”
I poured her a standard shot—not the Tipsy Soju, not yet—and slid the glass across the table. Time to ease in.
“Already? Don’t you usually eat the side dish first?”
“Just taste it. I’ll adjust the pace based on your reaction.”
“Oh?”
Without hesitation, she lifted the glass, tipped it back with a delicate little sip—and froze.
“…Huh?”
Her eyes widened, round and startled, then she downed the rest in one smooth, decisive gulp.
“Why’s it so *sweet*? The internet said it was brutally bitter!”
“Tastes good, huh?”
“Mmm! Way different from what they wrote—like, *completely* sweet!”
See? This is why brains exist.
Watching her stare at her empty glass, genuinely baffled, I felt a quiet swell of pride. Prepping fruit-infused soju *ahead* of time? Yeah. That was foresight.
While I basked in my own genius, Harin had already speared a piece of sashimi, dipped it in soy sauce and wasabi, and popped it in her mouth—her expression brightening instantly. Then, with a grin that radiated pure, uncomplicated joy, she held out her empty glass toward me.
“Oppa—more, please!”
“Slow down. Get drunk too fast, and I’m not responsible.”
“What am I supposed to do?! It’s *delicious*! And even if I *do* get tipsy—who cares? It’s just you and me here. Now pour—*and fill your own glass too*!”
Is she already buzzed? Her face doesn’t look flushed… Or maybe she’s just naturally expressive? Or maybe she’s always like this when she drinks?
I studied her—the way her shoulders were loose, her laugh lighter, her gaze lingering a beat too long—and couldn’t quite tell if the alcohol had hit yet or if this was just baseline Harin unleashed.
Either way—doesn’t matter. As long as it follows the script.
Step by step. Exactly as planned.
“Hehehe… Nom, so tasty~”
For a few minutes, I matched her pace—sipping soju, nibbling sashimi—letting the rhythm settle. But she started drinking faster than I’d anticipated. Much faster.
Clearly, the first shot had hit her palate like a revelation. She abandoned all sense of moderation—no awareness of her own limits, no thought to pacing—and just kept pouring, gulping, refilling. Within minutes, her posture swayed, her movements grew sluggish, and she struggled to lift a single piece of sashimi to her mouth.
Figures. Nineteen-year-old with zero drinking experience charging headfirst into a bottle like it’s water. What did you expect?
I glanced at her—cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy—and quietly slid the regular soju aside. Then I reached into the fridge, withdrew the Tipsy Soju, and held it up with a subtle, practiced sway of my wrist—just enough to sell the act.
“Your glass is… empty. Let me refill it.”
“Hehe~ Thanks, oppa! C’mon—let’s cheers!”
“Cheers!”
I poured myself the standard soju. She got the Tipsy Soju. We clinked glasses—and downed them in one synchronized, sharp, satisfying shot.
Glug-glug.
“Mmm… What *is* this? Tastes way better than the last one…”
Almost instantly, the item’s effect kicked in. Her tongue curled slightly as she spoke, and a warm, rosy blush bloomed across her cheeks.
So the description wasn’t lying. It really *is* delicious.
She tilted her glass, shook it gently, licked every last drop from the rim—and I believed it. Every word of the item’s flavor profile.
I’ll try it myself later. Right now? Something far more important demands my full attention.
“Hmm? To me… it tastes kinda the same?”
She squinted at me, already half-lost in the haze, and I kept the performance going—leaning in, voice low and slightly slurred, eyes half-lidded.
“Hehe… Really? Then why do you suddenly look *so* handsome?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve *always* been handsome~? Hehe… Anyway—another round!”
I met her gaze head-on, feigning intoxication while carefully feeding her more Tipsy Soju. She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle—and I played along, letting my expression soften, my posture relax, my smile widen just enough to disarm suspicion.
“Ah… Oppa. Come closer. Okay?”
Fifteen minutes in—after she’d polished off the entire bottle of Tipsy Soju—she paused mid-sip, blinked slowly, and then fixed me with a dazed, dreamy stare.
It’s happening.
My pulse spiked. Heart hammered against my ribs. I rose, walked over, and knelt beside her on the floor—calm, controlled, ready.
“Hmm… Why’d you call me over? Annoying… Mmph!!”
I sat beside her, pretending to ask—then she cut me off. In one fluid, shocking motion, she seized my collar, yanked me forward, and kissed me—hard, sudden, and utterly unapologetic.
[▶ Achievement Unlocked: First Kiss]
[▶ Reward: Free purchase voucher for Appearance-related Skill (B+ or lower)]
I hadn’t even registered the chime—or processed the reward—before shock short-circuited my brain.
I was supposed to make the first move…
Had the System read my mind? Or did it simply know *this* was the critical moment—the exact hinge where everything shifted?
By the time I snapped back to reality, the notification had vanished.
“Slurp… Hehe. So handsome. You’re mine—from today.”
She broke the kiss, licked her lips slowly—savoring the taste—and gazed up at me with a sultry, knowing smile that dripped pure, unfiltered temptation.
I can’t hold back anymore.
That smile. Those eyes—dark, heavy, brimming with heat and hunger. My restraint shattered.
“You started it.”
In one motion, I wrapped my left arm around her waist and pulled her flush against me—then cradled the back of her head with my right hand and lowered her gently, deliberately, onto the floor. Before she could draw breath, I claimed her mouth again—deep, possessive, and absolutely relentless.