Fallen Saintess Ha Yeon-ah
Ha Yeon-ah sat in front of the vanity, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back had perfectly refined features, flawless skin, and plump, reddened lips. Her long, straight golden hair gleamed with a rich hue that no artificial dye or natural human blonde could rival. Rather than anything comfortable, she wore sheer lace lingerie—the kind meant for seducing the senses. It clung to her more snugly than her usual underthings, sending a strange tingle through her body.
"Haa..."
Ha Yeon-ah let out a sigh as she took in her scandalous appearance—something the old her never could have imagined. The scraps of fabric Seong Ye-han had handed her the night before as they parted could hardly be called underwear. At first, she'd felt a subtle thrill of joy and satisfaction when he presented them as a gift... but once home and inspecting the contents, they'd proven outrageously lewd. If anyone but her had seen them, she couldn't bear to imagine the reaction. To be blunt... these were clothes made for fucking in. Seong Ye-han's intentions were transparently clear. And yet, knowing full well what he intended, here she stood before the mirror, obediently dressed in them. What spell had come over her...?
Ignoring the faint blush on her cheeks that no makeup could hide, Ha Yeon-ah hurriedly finished dressing and left the house.
Seong Ye-han had arrived at the meeting spot early. Today's menu: chicken. The soul food of Koreans hadn't died even after the gates opened, and as everyone knew, Ha Yeon-ah—with her plebeian tastes—loved it dearly.
The time was evening, with the fiery sunset blanketing the sky. The shop buzzed with people eager for hot, crispy chicken and cold beer, every table packed. Seong Ye-han sat in his reserved corner booth, watching the crowd. Amid the endless war with monsters, these folks hadn't lost their spark—everyone laughed, brimming with joy over who knew what.
How long had he waited? A woman entered, wide-brimmed hat hiding her distinctive hair, white disposable mask over her face. No novel-like scene where all eyes snapped to her. Sure, she exuded an aura just standing there, but with her face and hair concealed, no such drama would unfold. People focused on their own friends, not some stranger.
"Over here~"
Seong Ye-han waved her over. She scanned the room, spotted him, and hurried to the seat, her tone uneasy.
"What is this place..."
Their spot was tucked away enough—not drawing casual glances from the shop at large—but far from the private nooks Ha Yeon-ah usually preferred.
"A change of pace with this open vibe now and then isn't bad, right?"
Seeing her frown at his reply, Seong Ye-han added,
"People are less nosy than you think. As long as that flashy blonde's hidden."
"That's the problem..."
"It'll be fine if it doesn't glow all bright like when you use your power."
Seong Ye-han raised a hand to calm her sharp glare, then handed over his prepared items: a snapback, frameless glasses, and hairpins to tidy her locks.
"..."
"Trust me, it's good."
"What if someone recognizes me and it gets messy?"
"Then... we handle it together. Who'd block two S-ranks?"
"So, no plan at all... right?"
To her pout, Seong Ye-han just flashed a sly smile. Ha Yeon-ah rubbed her furrowed brow, shaking her head in resignation. Emboldened, he pressed on.
"Keeping that giant hat on would draw more eyes anyway."
"Haa... fine. Got it."
She stood, grabbed the items, and headed to the bathroom. Apparently swapping the hat right there was a step too far. Seong Ye-han got it—recalling his own early S-rank days. And for a beauty like her, the scrutiny must be fiercer than what he'd faced as a man. Celebrities thrived on public love, seeing it as the cost of fame, but they weren't that. Still, skulking like criminals for a burger every time? Nah. Crowded, lively spots had their own energy. Indulging in it occasionally was surely good.
"There. Better?"
As he mulled this, Ha Yeon-ah returned, settling in. Some hair peeked out inevitably, but tied tight, it only caught the shop lights in minimal sparkles. The oversized snapback fit surprisingly well, hiding her effectively. Even the plain, dark, generic glasses looked like high fashion on her.
"You look pretty."
The sincere compliment slipped out naturally.
"Ahem!"
Reading the genuine warmth, her expression softened. A beauty like her must have heard it a million times, but words carried power from who said them. From Seong Ye-han, her "praise" had always been crude—tight pussy, ass perfect for pounding, tits begging to be fucked. So this simple, everyday flattery hit deeper.
"Quit with the nonsense... You order yet?"
Averting her eyes—unlike her usual stare—prompted Seong Ye-han to swallow a laugh.
"Half seasoned, half fried, light on the sauce?"
"Hmm..."
Her reaction lukewarm.
"Not great? So I went half fried, half soy."
"Hmm!"
Much more satisfied now. Her naturally golden eyes seemed to sparkle brighter. He hadn't tailored it precisely—just figured seasoned could be dipped—and it landed perfectly.
A short wait later.
"Your order's up."
The server's friendly voice brought steaming chicken and frothy, golden beer in hefty glasses. Elders grumbled that chicken and beer weren't "proper" anymore, but it didn't faze Seong Ye-han or Ha Yeon-ah. They could afford monster-premium birds at 30,000 won a pop, yet preferred this thin, crispy batter and "fancy-colored" brew.
Crunch—
"Mmm~"
Ha Yeon-ah bit hugely into a drumstick, beaming. A far cry from her earlier fidgeting over stares. Mana lightly cloaking her hand kept the fresh-fry heat and grease at bay—expert control. Soon, the world faded; only the food existed for her. She devoured it fast. Come to think of it, I-rae had called her a big eater with a hearty appetite. That vast heart of hers? Mystery half-solved.
Anyway, watching her lost in her food world—like he wasn't even there—stirred Seong Ye-han's mischief.
"Hm-hm~"
She even hummed some upbeat tune. Then—twitch!—she frowned, sensing something.
"Wh-what."
"What?"
Feigning innocence, Seong Ye-han mana-coated his hand and grabbed a piece. Slip— Trickier than expected. She'd made it look easy, but it demanded precise control. Too much mana crushed the chicken; too little or uneven fizzled uselessly.
"Harder than it looks."
Ha Yeon-ah smirked faintly at his struggle, then refocused. Seong Ye-han teased again—foot stretching under the table, inching inward.
"Eek?! Y-you... youuu!"
"Hm?"
No mistaking this, even chicken-deep. Her eyes narrowed furiously at his blatant provocation, vowing no mercy for ruining her bliss. But Seong Ye-han didn't retreat. He knew this icy saintess—prim, forbidding men—melted most for aggression, craved rough handling like the bitch she was.
Too crowded and lively to yell? Or loath to waste her feast? Ha Yeon-ah countered under the table. But physical prowess? Unbridgeable gap. Despite her efforts, his foot crept toward her precious spot, flushing her face.
"Wait...!"
"Keep eating. Like nothing's happening."
"Nngh..."
"You love it? Both ways."
No skill involved, yet his whisper rang clear in her ear. Ha Yeon-ah could muster no retort.