Kenzo Becomes the Father-in-Law
Kenzo Becomes the Father-in-Law
"Ugh... Haaahm..."
Kenzo came out of his room, rubbing his stiff neck.
He had poured down sake like it was water last night, but the hangover wasn't as bad as he'd expected.
Maybe it was thanks to the sturdy frame of a fisherman who'd spent his whole life hauling nets against the rough sea winds, or maybe it was just the constitution of an izakaya owner.
Dudududud! Shweeeeeeek!
From outside the window came the deafening noise of aircraft, loud enough to drown out the morning chirping of sparrows.
Since last night, the sounds of helicopter propellers and fighter jets tearing through the sky hadn't stopped.
"Training so noisily from the crack of dawn. All the fish will run away."
He grumbled as he walked down the hallway.
He had to go out on the boat again today, as always.
Even though the tourists had dried up, if he wanted to put food on the table, he had no choice but to rely on the sea.
His footsteps, heading towards the living room, stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway.
A cute sign that read [Mina's Room♡].
A sigh leaked out from between Kenzo's deeply etched wrinkles as he looked at his daughter's door.
"Sigh... When will I ever send my daughter off to get married? No, when will she even get a chance to see a man..."
Guilt as a father weighed heavily on his chest.
The Great Impotence Era.
As society had gone mad, the dating and marriage market had undergone a thorough 'class stratification.'
The 10% of men who were the 'fear bullets'—men capable of erection.
In reality, women from wealthy and powerful families were engaged in a muddy fight just to secure even those men.
A dowry of tens of billions of yen was the baseline, and news society pages were filled with love scandals where upper-class young ladies pulled each other's hair or stabbed each other over a single man.
For Kenzo, a poor fisherman and small izakaya owner, he had no financial means to bring such a man in as a son-in-law.
Even if a miracle happened and she ended up with a man who could get erect, he'd probably be an empty shell that couldn't produce a single drop of semen.
Thinking of his daughter, in the prime of her youth, growing old stabbing only her thighs every night, brought tears of blood to his eyes.
Last night, drunk, the reason he had drunkenly pleaded with that stranger—whether he was a Korean, a castaway, or a North Korean operative—to "take my daughter," was also because of that pent-up guilt.
"But still... I should at least see her face once before I go out to work."
He carefully grabbed the doorknob and turned it.
He opened the door very slowly, making no sound, lest his daughter wake up.
Kkiiik.
Morning sunlight seeped through the crack of the opened door.
And at the same time.
"......!!"
Kenzo's breath caught in his throat.
An incredible smell that stabbed at his nose—no, that assaulted his brain—exploded out from inside the room.
That smell, concentrated overnight because the window hadn't been opened.
A fishy, pungent night-flower smell, the smell of sweat from all over the body, and the sweet, unique scent of a female.
It was the primal trace left behind after a living male and female had finished mating violently—a smell he had only ever smelled decades ago, the morning after spending a hot night with his wife.
"Wh-what is this..."
With trembling hands, he swung the door wide open.
The scene that entered his vision was shock itself.
On his daughter's narrow single bed.
Where the thin blanket was half pulled back, two naked bodies were tangled together.
That strange young guy who had been sitting at the izakaya counter last night.
And clearly, his own daughter Mina, sleeping soundly with her nose buried in the thick pillow of that guy's arm, nestled against his chest.
Red handprints and kiss marks were stamped like medals on Mina's white back and buttocks.
But what most intensely captured Kenzo's gaze was the bedsheet.
The center of the white sheet was stained with red blood marks, and on top of that, thick, viscous, milky-white fluid had dried and was gleaming.
A sea of blood and semen.
Clear evidence that the hymen had been torn and the male's seed had been received in abundance.
"Huh, h-heuk..."
Kenzo's legs gave out and he grabbed onto the doorframe.
Shock, anger, and horror.
But amidst that swirling vortex of confused emotions, the moment he saw his daughter's face, his pupils shook.
A faint smile was spread across Mina's lips.
A peaceful, ecstatic expression he had never seen in his life—one that only a woman who had everything could make.
Her lower belly even looked slightly, mysteriously swollen.
'Did she... did she really meet a real man? Our Mina...?'
He couldn't bring himself to scream.
Because this unbearably thick semen smell lingering at the tip of his nose was proving this miraculous reality.
'Th-this son of a bitch dared to... my precious daughter...!'
In the past, before this insane Great Impotence Era had arrived, Kenzo's reaction would have been predictable.
Like doting fathers typically do, he would have flipped out, run in with a kitchen knife or a baseball bat, and smashed that bastard's head in.
Or, like a shotgun wedding in American movies, he would have pointed a gun barrel, grabbed him by the collar, and roared, "Take responsibility for my daughter to the end!"
But that 'era when it was good to be a woman' had long since vanished into legend.
The anger that had surged to the top of his head cooled down like a lie the moment he smelled the fishy scent of semen and virgin blood soaking the sheet.
Instead, his mind cleared, and a strange sense of joy surged up his spine.
'It's a miracle... The miracle I drunkenly prayed for yesterday has come true.'
Kenzo cautiously approached the bed, trying not to even make a sound with his breathing.
He had to confirm if this was a dream or reality.
The scene seen up close was far more obscene and destructive.
On the inside of Mina's white thigh, sticking out from under the blanket, dried milky-white fluid was smeared all over, and the stranger's penis, holding her tightly from behind, was half-swollen even in sleep, flaunting its heavy presence.
That man's face.
It was definitely that castaway guy who had been sitting at the counter last night, throwing bundles of yen and begging for food.
The memory of himself grabbing that guy last night, crying and pleading for him to take his daughter, flashed through his mind like a flashback.
"Honey... It seems you, from heaven, have taken pity on our Mina and sent this..."
Hot tears streamed down from Kenzo's wrinkled eyes.
Not sadness over his daughter losing her purity, but the overwhelming emotion of a parent, thrilled that his daughter could finally 'carry life.'
He clasped his hands together as if in prayer, then backed out of the room, stepping backwards lest that precious stud and his daughter wake up.
Click.
After quietly closing the door and coming down to the first floor alone, Kenzo took a rough breath.
He was also a sharp fisherman who had lived his whole life on this island.
That helicopter noise and fighter jet roar tearing the sky since morning.
He instinctively knew it wasn't ordinary military training.
It must mean that man sleeping upstairs was no ordinary guy.
He needed accurate information.
He turned on the TV in the corner of the izakaya.
"Next news! The Korean government has just issued an emergency statement."
The urgent voice of the anchor boomed loudly from the TV speaker.
"Gasp!"
Kenzo frantically tapped the volume button on the remote, afraid it might be heard upstairs.
The sound reduced to almost mute, but the situation was easily guessable just from the subtitles on the screen.
[Korean Government Strongly Urges Japan to "Immediately Repatriate Its Nationals Detained in Tsushima"]
[Large-Scale Mobilization of ROK Navy, Air Force, and Marines in East Sea and South Sea Coast... Military Tension at Peak]
The Korean Foreign Ministry spokesperson on screen was denouncing Japan with veins bulging.
Of course, the word 'stud' never passed his lips.
He packaged it as a 'national important asset' and a 'law-abiding national,' but why they were going crazy like this, everyone in the world knew.
The following screen was even more shocking.
Dozens of Korean Navy destroyers and high-speed boats, having departed from the waters near Busan and Geoje Island, were racing towards the Tsushima Strait, spewing black smoke.
"What on earth is happening to cause such an unprecedented situation? Let's connect to a reporter on the scene!"
The screen the female anchor in the studio urgently switched to showed a reporter hovering in the air over the Tsushima Strait in a helicopter.
[Yes, this is the northern Tsushima Strait waters! Can you believe the scene you see behind me? Right now, this place is truly a hair-trigger situation, on the brink of war!]
The camera panned to the sea.
Beyond the horizon, massive gray warships were swarming like ants.
In front of the Korean Navy's Aegis ships, Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force frigates were nervously blocking their way, maneuvering in zigzags.
It was an alarmingly close collision course, almost to the point of ships hitting each other.
Moreover, among them, Aegis ships belonging to the US 7th Fleet, flying the Stars and Stripes, were also intervening, creating a three-way standoff.
[Korean, Japanese, and even US warships are interfering with each other's courses, engaging in extreme psychological warfare! It wouldn't be strange if anyone made a preemptive attack... Ah!!]
The reporter suddenly screamed and ducked.
Kuguaaaaang!!
A terrifying roar loud enough to pierce through the nearly muted TV speaker.
The camera screen shook wildly.
A Korean Air Force F-35 fighter jet had grazed perilously close to the reporter's helicopter, as if on a warning flight, breaking the sound barrier.
On the sea below, water columns, presumed to be warning shots, shot up.
"Th-these crazy bastards... Are they going to start a world war over one man's dick?"
Kenzo gulped down dry saliva.
That man, lost in sweet sleep on his own second-floor old bed.
To seize those two balls of his, the militaries of three nations were pointing their guns at each other on the sea.
