The Daughter's Sin is the Mother's Sin (1)
I hadn't slept a wink since last night, racing here nonstop, so I closed my eyes for just a moment to catch my breath.
But the instant I did, visions flashed: Yujin's gaze as she stared at me while I lay dying from a gunshot, alternating with the way she'd knelt before me moments ago, looking up with those eyes. They felt even more vivid than in reality. I'd only meant to rest briefly, but this was a problem. Just seeing her face stirred a toxic mix of hatred and lust, my cock already twitching to life.
I shook my head hard, shoving Yujin's face from my mind. But no sooner had it vanished than Minhui, Jiyeong, and Sua's faces crowded in one after another.
"Fuck."
I shook my head again, banishing them too. Then came the faces of everyone who'd branded me a rapist.
Those who'd stared at me with ever-colder eyes despite my desperate efforts to prove my innocence.
My eyes snapped open. No rest for me now. If anything, I felt more exhausted.
I had no idea when the Chairwoman might barge in. Time to hustle. Digging through my pre-regression memories, I knew for sure she'd come here today, but the exact timing eluded me. And after this day, she'd suddenly taken a few days' leave, so something big must have happened—something even I didn't know about. That meant I had to move fast.
I pulled out all the accounting ledgers and files from the Chairwoman's Office drawers and pored over them. She wasn't an idiot; nothing overtly incriminating was left lying around.
But cross-referencing the mismatched figures revealed circumstantial evidence of her embezzling school donations to secret accounts and fencing school supplies for cash. That alone carried real legal weight.
I pocketed the key documents, then—just to be safe—snapped photos with my phone and uploaded them to cloud storage.
This would have to tide me over until I fully pulled the Principal to my side, tying him to her corruption. It wasn't my real blackmail material anyway; this was just insurance.
Still, the short prep time left it feeling thin. Give me a week—no, two days—and I'd have had airtight evidence, leaving her no escape. No choice now. I'd improvise the rest.
I scattered the ledgers and files messily across the desk. Then I tousled my clothes and hair in the mirror.
...Good enough?
It looked convincing. Dye my hair blond and hit the tanning bed, and I'd be the picture-perfect thug.
With prep done, I returned to the Chairwoman's chair and spun it around, hiding behind the wide backrest as I waited for her arrival.
Time dragged on. About two hours. I even dozed off unwittingly at one point, jolted awake by footsteps passing the door. Heavy thuds, followed by dragging—definitely not the Chairwoman. Probably the Janitor. But why was he still at school this late? Patrolling for kids who hadn't gone home?
Who knew? Not my concern. I closed my eyes again, waiting for her.
More time passed, and anxiety crept in. Was my memory off? Maybe I should just head home and crash. I was leaning that way when—
Footsteps approached.
Not the Janitor's. The sharp click-clack of high heels striking the hallway floor.
Did the Chairwoman wear heels? I didn't recall that.
She was always the prim, rigid type, drilling neat uniforms and manners into students. Ironic, given how her daughter Yujin hiked her skirt the shortest in school—a running joke among kids. But the Chairwoman's outfits were impeccable enough to back up her lectures.
I pictured her usual look: flats, black skirt to mid-calf, white blouse, hair in a bun.
That was Yujeong as I remembered her. Heels? Something was off. Clearly, there were things even pre-regression me had missed.
But before I could puzzle it out, the door swung open.
"Phew! Ughhh!"
A deep sigh, followed by a childish whine.
The voice matched my memory of the Chairwoman perfectly. But that cute lilt? No way I'd imagined it coming from her—any more than those heels.
"Ughh—hot. Hic."
Slurred, unhinged speech. Too far to smell the booze yet, but her voice alone filled the room with it.
"Fucking bastards, seriously... guzzling booze just to cop a feel... hic."
Her hiccup. Stumbling footsteps into the room, then fumbling thumps against the wall hunting the light switch. Then—
Click!
The Chairwoman's Office blazed to life.
"What the...?"
Yujeong's bewildered voice at the trashed room.
Thinking it was a break-in, she fumbled for her phone in her handbag. I tapped my foot lightly, making a noise.
Sensing me, she glanced toward my chair and barked in feigned sternness.
"Janitor? I told you last time: clean my office before students arrive, not at night."
Her tone could cow even burly men—firm, unyielding. But knowing her drunken slur from moments ago, I just found it hilarious.
"Can't even follow a simple order? Who do you think got a sex offender like you this job when no one else would hire you?"
The booze was gone from her silky, pressing voice.
"......"
I stayed silent, chair turned. She hesitated, then spoke again, misunderstanding.
"...Principal? What brings you here so late? I already told you last time: I reject your proposal."
No reply. Growing uneasy, she masked it with aggression. Heels click-clacking sharply, she strode straight at me and slammed the desk with her palm.
Facing an intruder in her office at night, and instead of calling cops or fleeing, she charges? Now I knew where Yujin got her hot-blooded aggression.
"You! Didn't you hear me?" I shoved off with my foot, spinning the chair from the window toward her.
My unfamiliar face startled her; she recoiled. Ignoring it, I draped my arms on the rests, crossed my legs, and slowly raked my eyes over her body.
Drunk as expected. Her face glowed like a ripe peach. The blouse she'd always buttoned to the top gaped open.
Not much—just a few buttons—but enough for her breasts to finally breathe free.
I stared at the pale skin spilling out. Seemed Yujeong had passed down more than her bitchy temper to her daughter.
Compared to Yujin's still-developing youth, Yujeong's were fully ripened, at peak succulence—like fruit on the verge of fermentation.
She looked too young and stunning to have a daughter Yujin's age. Strangers might mistake her for an older sister.
Feeling my gaze, she hurriedly tried buttoning up. But the blouse was tailored to her slim waist, straining against those massive tits even normally. No quick fix. She gave up, arms raised to shield her chest, and yelled.
"Hold on, transfer student! What the hell were you doing here?"
She knew me? Surprising. As far as I knew, at this point, she was still in the dark about her daughter suing me.
Curiosity soon irrelevant. I stood without answering. Towering over her, I loomed more threateningly; she stepped back.
To avoid provoking her, I sauntered casually around the desk. As she turned to fumble with her buttons, gaining false confidence from my ease, I closed in to face her directly. One more step, and I was nearer the door.
Realizing too late, she dropped her shielding hand and spun toward the door—but I was faster.
I rushed over, slammed the half-open door shut, locked it, and whirled back. She froze mid-reach for her phone; I shot her a razor glare.
"Put it down."
She hesitated, then slowly lowered it. She knew I meant business.
Experience, maybe. Unlike Yujin.
"Sit."
I nodded at the low table before the sofa strewn with files. Tense in the heavy air, she nodded and sat.
I claimed the head seat as if it were mine, gripped her shoulder, and shoved her to the side sofa. Then I sat beside her.
Flashing a bright smile at her frozen face, I said,
"Shall we chat?"
I leaned in close to her scowling face—irritated by my casual speech—and jabbed the corruption files right under her nose.