The Daughter's Sin is the Mother's Sin (4)
As soon as I stepped out of the Chairwoman's Office, whether it was good timing or bad, I heard footsteps and rustling from down the hallway.
"She's definitely out cold, right...?"
A low, hushed voice drifted over. The janitor's.
"We laced her drink with that much booze and drugs—she's fucking gone! No need to whisper. It's just us and the chairwoman bitch here anyway, and she's passed out. Just grab the key."
This time, a bold, swaggering voice. Who was that...? Oh, right. The Principal.
The puzzle pieces clicked in my head.
Yujeong's unnatural stupor, collapsing like she'd been drugged far beyond just alcohol. After that night in my previous timeline, she'd suddenly taken a few days off. Regulations required at least one of them to stay at the school, but weirdly, the Principal had vanished on leave too. He'd always been obsequious to the chairwoman before, but after returning, he'd gotten way too chummy with her.
That's when rumors flew around the students that they were dating...
The pot-bellied, balding middle-aged Principal and the stunning chairwoman—who looked too young to have a daughter Yujin's age—made such an mismatched pair that everyone dismissed it. Yujin had been furious at the gossip too, so it died quick. But after witnessing tonight, something clearly went down here. And crucially, years after I graduated, I'd heard the Principal dropped dead suddenly.
Back then, I figured a slovenly, out-of-shape slob like him keeling over wasn't surprising...
I glanced down at Yujeong cradled in my arms. Blissfully asleep, oblivious to what was coming.
Turns out even that might've been this bitch's doing?
Yujin's friends—no, her future business partners: Minhui, Jiyeong, Sua. With their power, offing a fat old man and faking it as sudden death? Piece of cake.
Minhui, with her underworld connections, hires the killer. Jiyeong bankrolls the cover-up. Sua pulls strings in her cult to twist the autopsy.
But it's just speculation. No hard proof yet.
I was about to bolt before the janitor and Principal spotted me, but that'd make noise and draw them. Instead, I hugged Yujeong's waist and melted into the shadows.
It'd only been days since regressing, and the school's layout was a bit fuzzy, but I'd been a student here. I knew it cold.
While teachers stuck to the same routes, I'd been dragged everywhere for bullshit, and during breaks, the stares labeling me a rapist kept me wandering. Finding a hidey-hole? Easy.
Too easy. Back then, I was always hiding, running in this place.
Meanwhile, their footsteps closed in. I slipped into the nearest classroom, pressing against the door. From here, I had a clear view of the Chairwoman's Office door—they couldn't see me.
"Ughhh... mmph..."
Yujeong squirmed, mumbling drunken nonsense. I clapped a hand over her mouth.
The two men hesitated at the door, then reached for it cautiously. I'd locked it behind me—it wouldn't budge.
"The key! Hurry up!"
The Principal barked at the janitor, voice low and shaky with nerves—contradicting his earlier bravado.
The janitor fumbled the key from his pocket in his panic. It clattered to the floor.
Clang!
The sharp metallic ring echoed through the dark school.
"You fucking idiot!"
The Principal's palm smacked the janitor's back hard. Stung, the janitor grabbed his collar.
"You shut your mouth! Without me, you'd never dream of this shit!"
I'd thought the janitor got roped in by the Principal's scheme, but apparently he was the mastermind...?
Disappointing. I'd figured he was innocent like me... But I shook it off, face hardening.
I had no room to judge him morally anymore. No point clinging to morals or "right" anyway.
Still, watching their pathetic scuffle paid off. Through the phone app linked to the camera, I watched them unlock the door and enter. Solid evidence they came to rape Yujeong.
But it wasn't enough. For ironclad proof, I needed to give them another shot at her.
Not that I'd let them touch her—that'd complicate shit. Circumstantial evidence alone was plenty to blackmail them with. No need for more.
If Yujeong got traumatized in the process? Not my problem. Solid plan.
I whipped up a new scheme on the fly, then slipped out while they trashed the office. Exited through the CCTV-blind back door.
Phone check: they were panicking, circling the empty office like headless chickens.
They figured Yujeong sniffed their plan and fled. Now convinced cops were coming, they screamed blame, escalating to fists.
Janitor had the muscle and stamina edge, but his limp slowed him. The Principal kept distance in a laughable outboxing stance—useless. Janitor closed in and pummeled him.
Nothing funnier than dogshit fighting. I watched too long before snapping to, closing the app. I set Yujeong down by the park wall.
Did she know she'd just dodged a rape by a hair's breadth? Saved by another rapist, no less.
Irony: escaping the wolf only to land in the tiger's jaws. Worse for her, really.
Not my concern. I hoisted her again. Crossing into the park was a bitch—thick brush with her on my back.
"Mmmph."
Her sweet, boozy breath hit my neck.
"Fucking slut."
I grabbed her massive ass with both hands, yanking her up as she slid. Snapped my hips to resettle her. Her tits squished against my head.
Ass too huge to grip properly for piggybacking. Tits smothering my skull—annoying as hell.
Park vending machine.
I fed coins in, grabbed a water, chugged some. Then upended the open bottle over Yujeong, laid out against the machine.
Splash!
"...Wha...? Ah!"
Drenched, she woke confused, hacking up water from nose and mouth.
"You with us?"
I thwacked her head with the empty bottle.
Cheeky bitch shot me a "how dare you, student" glare. I swung the bottle into her cheek.
Empty plastic—probably no real hurt or mark. But the thwack and the fact it was an object, not my hand? Her face crumpled in shock.
"You with us?"
"......"
"Guess not."
I stepped up to the machine. Her sitting mouth-level with my crotch.
I jammed my bulge against her face. Wake up call.
"Wh-what the hell! Where are we?"
"What? Thought you needed another water to snap out of it. And where? Use your eyes—it's a park."
"Why the fuck am I in a park!"
No answer—just another bottle smack to her snarling cheek.
"Want more?"
"......No."
She muttered, head down, tasting pain. Looked like she considered yelling for help now that we were outside, but dark night, mosquito-buzzing lamps under streetlights—no one around. Plus, still fretting over Yujin from before.
"Good. Get up."
She wobbled to her feet, clutching the machine. I offered a hand.
She eyed it like what?
"Grab it. Don't piss me off."
Hesitant, she took it. I lifted her straight with one arm like nothing. She blinked, stunned.
One hand on bottle neck, other on base—crunch! Crushed it like a press. Tossed it in the trash, turned back.
She was still gawking at my arm muscles. I laid out the next steps.
For her daughter, she'd do anything? No bullshit—she reacted with horror, rage, humiliation, but obeyed.
Late-night convenience store.
Weird spot, dead at night. Rare customers? Guys grabbing condoms, booze, snacks for nearby unmanned motels.
Tonight too. Clerk killed time with mobile games. First non-him entrant all shift.
He pocketed his phone, stood, mumbled greeting, yawned. Didn't even glance.
Buy and bounce, his vibe. But then—customer fiddling un bought packaging. He looked.
Another asshole?
Back turned, customer donned the item on their face. Disposable mask.
Sensing eyes, customer masked up quick, crumpled wrapper, pretended to browse lunchboxes indifferently.
Clerk shrugged it off, reached for game—but couldn't.
Hadn't seen the face, just a glimpse of back, but... mesmerizing.
Thighs peeking under short skirt. Hips that'd rip it—voluminous. Wet blouse translucent over bra, sideboob.
Sideboob? From behind?
He swallowed. Slim build, tits that huge?
Customer turned, items selected. Back view alone screamed top-tier beauty—lifelong out-of-league. Clerk averted eyes, feigning weather check. Wet blouse—no rain outside.
"Th-this... checkout. Hurry."
Masked customer dumped armful on counter.
"Uh, yeah."
Pretending to work, clerk sneaked peeks: massive tits glowing through wet shirt, her face.
Small face, mask hid half; sunglasses sealed it. But beauty shone through. Mask couldn't hide perfection. Hips, tits, collarbone, sweet booze-laced breath peeking from mask—pure elite pussy.
Chaebol heir, A-lister, pro athlete bait. Clerk knew: he'd slave a lifetime without a taste.
"Hurry up."
He'd frozen, staring. She snapped.
Timid browsing, but demanding now—arrogant. Clerk jolted, nodded, eyed the haul.
Women's panties, one each type. Stockings, one each color. Fingerless gloves. "Multipurpose"—but motel-adjacent? One use.
And finally, regular condoms...
......one box.
Studded...
One box.
ultra-thin…
One box...