The Price of Righteousness

Before the night was fully upon us, I sent Hyun-ju on her way. It was still the middle of the week, and since tomorrow was Saturday, she'd be back anyway. Besides, it was her first day—push too hard, and she'd suffocate.

"Sua, show me what you filmed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠earlier. You too, Eun-mi."

"Ah, here."

"Yes, young master."

Sua and Eun-mi played back the videos they'd shot. It started from Hyun-ju undressing, but after she was stark naked on all fours, the angles clearly diverged. Sua had filmed straight-on from the front, while Eun-mi followed me, capturing from a slight diagonal rear angle.

The highlight was definitely Eun-mi's footage. Especially when I circled behind Hyun-ju at the end—the way she zoomed in to frame that pussy and asshole large and clear was pure genius. Then the shots of my cock relentlessly pounding her pussy, followed by swinging around front to ram her mouth-pussy. Perfectly captured.

"You both kept my face out of it nicely."

"Just in case."

Judgment worthy of an ex-police team leader and NIS spy. They hadn't even been my secretaries for long, yet they read my intentions like a book and moved like clockwork.

"You have Yoon Ha-young the journalist's phone number?"

"Yes. But since she was watching Kim Dong-gi's exposé live, her phone's probably toast. If you're sending this video, email would be better."

"Then email it. She needs to see the consequences of her own actions."

It was a warning, sure—but half of me was curious too. How would this self-righteous journalist react to the video? People like her, always preaching justice, were usually the good-hearted type. Learning that her meddling got the team leader stripped, doggy-fucked, and raped would hit her hard. She'd rage, probably try to hunt me down for legal payback.

Either way, it promised entertainment.

"Should I send mine too, young master?"

"Obviously both. The more explicit, the better."

"It's pretty raw footage though..."

"That's why I'm sending it. Eun-mi, send yours to Sua. Sua sends to Yoon Ha-young."

"...Understood."

"Yes, master."

Well then. How would our righteous journalist respond?

"Ugh... fuck, my head..."

Ha-young, who'd drowned her emptiness in booze before barely passing out, cracked her eyes around noon. She stared at the ceiling, wriggling in bed for a good ten minutes before rising like a zombie.

First thing: boot up the laptop. In this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cramped hellhole of a studio, the short distance was one of its few perks.

"A dump like this for 1.2 million a month? Ha..."

While it loaded, she scratched her itchy body and surveyed the room, smacking her lips in lament. What the hell was wrong with this country, this city, charging that for garbage like this? Everything was rotten from the root.

"Fucking real estate bloodsuckers all deserve a beatdown."

Yawning, she opened her browser and searched Rainbow Miracle. As expected, not a peep about Kim Dong-gi's exposé.

"The world's a trash heap..."

She sighed deeply and checked the company homepage. Kim Dong-gi was gone from the staff intro.

"...Dead? That guy."

His live stream had cut off mid-broadcast, so no updates. No news reports either. If she'd been there, maybe she'd know his fate—but she wasn't that lucky.

Searching "Kim Dong-gi general affairs manager" yielded nothing but namesakes. It was like the man had been erased from existence. For a major company's exec, there should be traces, right?

"Creepy~. So creepy."

Who was behind this? Who could wipe someone out so cleanly?

Tsking her tongue, she opened her email. As a journalist, she'd scattered her address everywhere, so her inbox always piled up with dozens daily. Even checking every day, it'd refill by morning. Assuming today's the same tips, she sifted through—then spotted one titled "Price".

"Price? What the hell."

Tip emails usually said "Hello, reporting on ~~ realities" or "Here's info on ~~." Just one word? Suspicious.

"And attachments..."

She closed all browsers, fired up her secure Tor browser, rechecked the email, scanned the "Price" attachment—it came back clean. Only then did she click.

"..."

No text. Just the title and two video files.

"No virus or malware at least..."

Download. Could be a prank snuff film, so she braced herself.

Click.

"Wha...? T-Team leader...?"

She froze the playback reflexively. Why was her team leader here? And...

"That's... what she wore yesterday."

Team Leader Seo Hyun-ju had taken half-day leave after a mystery call and gone home.

"..."

Dread surged. Mystery call. Mystery email. Team leader in the video.

Ha-young's finger trembled on the spacebar.

In the video, the team leader unbuttoned her jacket one by one.

"Wh-what...??"

Then the blouse, the skirt—slowly but surely stripping naked. No hiding those large, perfectly shaped tits' nipples, or the pussy peeking through thick bush.

She covered briefly, but—

A mystery man's voice. She dropped her arms. Then the real shock.

She neatly folded her clothes aside, knelt, and bowed her head.

The man moved. Face unseen. Camera followed.

Screen shifted behind her, zooming on her privates.

And...

The man's cock forced into the team leader's pussy. Then merciless rape began.

Ha-young clamped her mouth, too stunned to stop it. Horrific.

"T-Team leader..."

Pounding that plump ass relentlessly, creampie finish—then shoving the filthy cock down her throat. Team leader gagged but didn't resist, throat-fucked obediently.

"..."

Video ended. Dazed, Ha-young played the next. Same content, different angle. Man's face still hidden.

"Who... who the fuck..."

Blatant warning. She'd gotten threats before, but nothing this direct.

Didn't know the man, but raping the team leader to threaten her.

"!!...She took the fall... for me? As team leader?"

Her body went limp. Always blocking her, nitpicking articles, nagging... Ha-young had thought her a corrupt hack. Yet she'd shouldered the blame—raped by some unknown bastard.

Her teeth ground.

"You think I'll cower from this? Never—never forgive!!"

She steeled herself. More pressure, more resolve. Grip the fear, steady the shakes, face it head-on. Punish the evil.

"Young master... right."

The rapist in the video. Team leader called him that. Kim Dong-gi had too—said a trainee was delivered to the "young master's" house.

"Not some high-status guy—just a spoiled rich kid playing playboy. That's why 'young master.'"

Someone who could brutally rape Shinmirae Daily's Social Affairs Team 1 Leader? Not many.

"Dig into Rainbow Miracle's backers—might find clues."

First, report the video. Rape and blackmail.

"Not cops... Need someone solid. With iron will for justice, fighting for a trampled woman's dignity...!"

One name: The "freak" prosecutor, ostracized but righteous. Ha-young had interviewed her, moved by her plight amid corrupt peers' bullying. Yet she pressed on under "the most righteous power." No bribes, no favors—cut family ties, no marriage to avoid leverage. The purest prosecutor Ha-young knew.

"Give her the video. I'll expose Rainbow Miracle."

Plan set. She closed the laptop and headed to the bathroom.