Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Enemy or Ally?
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I wondered if I'd gone too far.
During the spanking, Yunhwa had been in so much pain that she'd ended up wetting herself.
No matter that she was a patient, making a thirty-year-old woman older than me piss herself while smacking her ass...
Honestly, there was no way around it—this was an amateurish medical blunder on my part.
After a moment of reflection, I carefully wiped the dampness between her legs, changed her into a fresh, fluffy diaper, and called it a truce.
Then, like soothing a beet-red middle-aged baby, I gently stroked her until she calmed down.
Yunhwa stayed quiet for a while, just catching her breath, before finally nodding meekly.
And with that, today's role-play therapy session was over. I turned off the clinic lights and locked the door.
As I stepped outside, the evening air brushed coolly against my cheeks.
I could feel the day's accumulated fatigue rising from my toes.
Today had felt especially long.
It had started early in the morning with a summons from the branch chief, followed by mediating the fight between Narae and Yunhwa, and then the scheduled role-play therapy with Yunhwa...
All day spent smiling, soothing, and arbitrating—it felt like my facial muscles and my mental state had turned to mush at the same time.
So tonight, more than ever, I wanted to be left alone, no interruptions, just me, a chilled can of beer, and some quiet time to unwind.
I stopped by the convenience store for beer and snacks, hooked the bag handles over my fingers, and headed home.
As the entrance to the Men's Safe Housing apartment complex came into view, I could already imagine that first cool gulp sliding down my throat.
...That's when it happened.
"Kim Seungbin Counselor... is that you?"
"Huh?"
Standing right in front of the first-floor entrance was someone who looked suspicious at a glance.
Her whole body was wrapped in a robe, but the protruding bust line, plump hips, and slender voice barely gave away that she was a woman.
In that instant, a déjà vu hit me from the time Jeon Suji the hunter had kidnapped me.
Having been abducted once before, I reflexively set down the beer and snack bags and pulled out my phone to call the police.
But then.
"W-Wait, wait, hold on! Stop! Stooop!"
Last time, Jeon Suji had knocked me out by chopping my neck, but this one was flailing her arms, desperately trying to hold me back.
Maybe she saw the 112 on my screen, because she waved her hands frantically and threw out a line.
"Kim Seungbin Counselor... do you believe in God?"
"...Pardon?"
...What the hell was this off-kilter opener?
I still had no idea what she was.
Could be a kidnapper, an assassin, or just some crazy bitch picking a fight on the street.
One thing was clear: approaching like this, dressed that way, at this hour—she was already outside the realm of normal.
In a normal Earth Korea, calling the cops on someone like this would've gotten a "What, over this?" and they'd send you packing. A classic Hel-Joseon letdown ending.
But this was the reversed world, where men were treated like fragile, precious national treasures.
If a man felt even slightly "threatened"—whether by a stare, air pressure, or even a mosquito buzzing by—it was treated as attempted murder.
Just dialing 112 would summon a sweet squad of female police special forces who'd fabricate charges on the spot if needed.
They'd neutralize the perp right there, bundle me into an armored car, and escort me home with three guard vehicles.
"Ugh, this is pissing me off. Better call."
"Y-Yes?!"
I was just about to hit the call button when.
"Guh...! No choice then, sorry!"
The moment I put the phone to my ear, the robed woman pointed at me and shouted.
"Begone!"
And then.
"...Huh?"
The phone that had been in my hand just a second ago was gone, vanished into thin air.
I thought I'd dropped it at first, but it wasn't at my feet or anywhere around... It was really gone.
Just like she'd said—it had evaporated.
"This has to be... a skill? The kind only hunters can use...?"
"......"
So she wasn't some ordinary cult recruiter after all.
Makes sense—whether preaching mysticism or claiming divine revelation, who shows up wrapped head to toe in a robe like that?
This confirmed it... Just like with Jeon Suji, someone had leaked info and targeted me, the hunter counselor.
Likely a member of that organization that could pull Korean A-rank and above hunter data.
"Suspicious from the start, but damn, she's even trashier than I thought."
"'Trashy'... what do you...!"
"Yeah. A rotten, festering lump of bitch instincts that even breathing in front of a man feels filthy."
She was a hunter anyway.
No matter how I struggled, a regular guy like me couldn't win physically.
But I wasn't going down without a fight.
I'd already been through the worst once— forcibly kidnapped, brainwashed, my head flooded with nothing but lust.
So I calculated my move.
I was the lead psychiatrist handling deranged hunters.
I'd simulated countless scenarios in my head for if one of those unstable patients escaped the ward—what a "regular person like me" could do.
Only one card to play here.
Maybe a 10% shot, but step one: lethal verbal provocation to enrage her, cloud her judgment temporarily.
So I hurled the most insulting words, laced with subtle sexual degradation.
But.
"Dirtier, more evil, and... trashy woman... If a man calls me that... does that make me a really bad girl...?"
"...Hm?"
"If that's the case... suddenly needing correction... dragged to a facility full of men... trained to tame disobedient bitches... every day until I obey... haah... ughuhu...!"
What was this reaction?
Her face was buried in the hood, so no expression, but the voice alone told me everything.
Anticipation, ecstasy, topped with full-course breathy moans.
...No way, she likes this?
Impossible.
What I'd thrown was a decade's worth of hate comments compressed into an insult bomb, sprinkled with sexual shame— no one would enjoy that.
If she did, she wasn't a normal woman.
No matter how I sliced it, that response was off the charts.
Something broken in her psyche, or at least a couple circuits shorted in her brain.
And of all people... a hunter.
Showing up before me, a psychiatrist.
What a bizarre coincidence.
Or... maybe not a coincidence?
Come to think of it, had any patient ever come to me directly before?
First patient, Yunhwa, was the Moonlight Sword House guild leader.
The moment I registered as a hunter counselor, her guild underlings showed up in a limo to fetch me from home.
Second patient, Narae, was the Hunter Association Korea branch chief's one and only granddaughter.
This time, I was summoned by the chief and went to her first.
...Looking back, none of my patients so far had come on their own two feet.
One dragged in a limo, one fetched on the chief's orders.
In other words, not a single time had a regular hunter come to me voluntarily. Not. Once.
So maybe hunters without backing or connections come like this, hiding their identity?
Not wanting to be seen, face covered—especially in Korea, where psychiatry still carries heavy stigma.
Companies drop applicants on the spot if psych ward history shows up on records.
Maybe that's why she approached this way.
"Excuse me. Do you need something from me?"
"S-Sudden nice tone...?"
...She might be my patient.
Making my phone vanish was probably to avoid ID exposure.
With that in mind, I approached with the softest smile possible.
Like coaxing a child— if she was a patient, I needed to apologize for the rough words so far.
Patients who seek help on their own are rare.
Those who admit they're suffering and want to fix it? Even rarer.
But then.
The hooded woman suddenly slumped her shoulders and let out a deflated sigh.
'...What? Did I go too hard earlier?'
"If my rude words hurt you... I apologize."
I bowed carefully to say sorry.
Crack.
"...Crack?"
It just sounded like someone crunching snacks at first.
But as I looked down, what unfolded before my eyes... was no joke.
The thick, solid brick floor beneath her feet was cratered like soft tofu.
A sewer pipe jutted out from the cracks, rattling away—and the cause was the robed woman right in front of me.
Her toe twisted slightly, kicking up dust, cracks spiderwebbing across the ground.
A kick? No, it looked like she'd just "set her foot down."
One conclusion flashed in my mind.
'...Fuck. What now.'
Enemy?
Or just another nutcase?
But she wasn't counterattacking, just standing there showing off her superhuman strength.
Like a spoiled customer who traveled far for a "good item," then smashed the display when it didn't meet expectations.
"Ha... my head hurts."
"...!"
Today, from morning to night, not a moment's rest.
Normally, I'd have words to defuse this, but fatigue crushed my brain, irritation spilling out first.
No, this won't do.
If she's a patient... this tone is the worst.
I lightly slapped my cheeks to snap out of it and tried to continue.
"...Ow, hurts? ...That's my fault, right? Then... just step on me. Crush me. Until you forget the headache... until I can't breathe... make me writhe under your feet... haah, haah... ughuhu...!"
The air suddenly heated up.
Drool dripping from under the robe, heavy breathing rising, that sneaky glance my way.
Yeah, she's definitely my patient.