Shinji's Appearance
He no longer even remembered the first-place lottery ticket sitting in his room back in Korea.
Right now, getting a proper meal was what mattered most. Revenge mattered even more. To achieve either, he first had to survive.
So Pungjin poured on the flattery thicker than ever and threw himself into every task with desperate energy. If he made himself even more useful, perhaps—just perhaps—Miwol would hesitate, even for a second, the next time she considered testing those lethal drugs on him. That fragile thread of hope was what kept him going.
Besides the drug experiments, his main duty was organizing the warehouse. The enormous storage building on one side of the property seemed to have no end no matter how much he cleaned. It was the very place where Pungjin had first arrived in this world—a literal dump for garbage.
Thanks to some spell Miwol had cast, trash and discarded junk from other dimensions randomly teleported there. In other words, Pungjin himself had once been nothing more than another piece of garbage.
Of course, after his arrival Miwol had lost interest and stopped maintaining the spell, so no new trash appeared and the pile stopped growing. Still, Pungjin would rummage through the Korean refuse that had come with him, secretly shedding tears of homesickness.
The warehouse was also where slightly expired preserved foods had accumulated. That precious space had kept him from starving during the earliest, most desperate days.
Miwol possessed astonishing magical talent but had zero sense of organization. She was therefore completely satisfied with Pungjin’s admittedly mediocre cleaning skills.
He swept and organized her enormous warehouse and living quarters, fetched water every morning, chopped firewood, washed their clothes and bedding, and meticulously cleaned, sorted, and disinfected all of her various magical tools.
Little by little, as he earned Miwol’s recognition, she began sending him into the forest to gather fruit, mushrooms, medicinal herbs, and wild plants. He also started fishing or setting traps along the nearby shore to bring back seafood. At last, the problem of food was solved.
She had even bought a few chickens, so he could collect eggs. Once their numbers grew, he would be able to butcher one or two for meat—a precious source of protein.
Even in these conditions, every day was torment for Pungjin. Yet compared to the lifeless existence he had led in Korea—staring at a computer screen like a corpse from morning till night—moving his body, working, and living apart from a desk and monitor was undeniably an improvement.
Moreover, Miwol’s violence could strike without warning at any moment. It kept him in constant tension, and in the instant her blows landed, it secretly satisfied a dark, masochistic pleasure buried deep inside him. It was a truth he hated to confront.
While assisting Miwol as her lab assistant during magical experiments, Pungjin began picking up bits and pieces of magical knowledge. The written language was identical to Korean, and having received a modern education back home, he secretly stole glances at her magic books whenever he could, hoping to learn enough to eventually escape.
The former hikikomori who had once shut himself in a basement room staring at a monitor for eighteen hours a day was now living in nature, getting beaten by a beautiful woman, foraging for his own food, and surviving through cleaning, laundry, and constant tidying.
So much time had passed that Pungjin, without a calendar or any way to track it, could only guess. He figured roughly a year had gone by.
Miwol, who had been away from home for over a week, finally returned.
She often stayed out for a day or two, but absences longer than a week were rare. Pungjin had been deep in the forest chopping wood and hadn’t noticed her return. The moment he learned she was back, he ran to greet her with genuine joy.
“Aigoo, Mistress! Where have you been? You were gone so long!”
Like an eager puppy, Pungjin clung to Miwol’s leg and rubbed his face against her. He was slowly turning into a dog that could speak.
“This damn mutt trying to smear saliva all over me!”
Without hesitation, Miwol’s rough kick slammed into him.
Thwack!
Pungjin flew backward from the powerful blow.
“Now, Jinjin. This bitch… go ahead and… mount her… hurry…”
“Huh? Mistress? What… what did you just say?”
Before Pungjin’s eyes stood a woman he had never seen before. She glared at Miwol with eyes full of resentment.
Did she bring her back from outside?
It was the first time Miwol had ever brought anyone home, so Pungjin was thrown into confusion.
“No… ugh… Mi-Miwol, please… anything but that…!”
“Hmph. Think about what you did to me, you bitch. You hypocritical whore!”
“Even so… how could you possibly…”
“Hehe. This Jinjin is no different from the dog I raise. Sucking his cock is the same as sucking a dog’s. How about it? Doesn’t that make it a little better? Hahaha!”
So she really has been thinking of me as a dog all this time…
Pungjin felt one of the questions buried in his chest finally answered. He carefully watched his master—no, his witch master—for her mood.
Mount this woman? What does that even mean? And… blonde hair with blue eyes! Amazing. This is the first time I’ve ever seen a woman with real golden hair up close… gulp.
She wore only panties and a thin white t-shirt. The glimpse of her bare thighs somehow looked even more obscene than complete nudity.
Yet she was barely five feet tall—slightly shorter than Miwol—with a completely ordinary, flat figure you could find anywhere. Her chest was at best a B-cup. The blonde hair made her look exotic, but her face was plain, even a little unattractive. Just your average, unremarkable woman.
Still, to Pungjin who hadn’t seen another person besides Miwol in so long, any woman looked beautiful. It was as if he were under a spell. From the blonde, he caught a refreshing fruit-like scent different from Miwol’s.
He carefully inhaled her fragrance without being noticed, lost in ecstasy.
“Jinjin, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and mount her! Oh, right—she’s not a bitch in heat, so you probably won’t get excited on your own. Hmm… should I help?”
Even while casually spitting out words that destroyed both morality and humanity, Miwol didn’t bat an eye. Both Pungjin and the blonde woman thought the same thing at the exact same moment.
That crazy bitch…
Pungjin cautiously asked, “Um… Mistress, what exactly do you mean by… ‘mount’?”
Judging by the atmosphere, it was obviously what he thought it was. But this wasn’t Korea, and this was another world. Miwol was clearly insane, so he needed confirmation. Or perhaps these insane acts were simply normal behavior here. How would he know? The only person he had met since arriving was Miwol, and she had never let him interact with the occasional peddlers who stopped by.
“Hmm… Jinjin, don’t tell me you’ve never done it before? Well, looking at you, that’s entirely possible. This is troublesome. I can’t exactly teach you myself… Though if I use a strong enough spell, it should work out somehow.”
Blushing slightly—as if she still possessed some sense of shame—Miwol began muttering an incantation.
A nameless terror gripped Pungjin and his heart started pounding.
Oh no… another spell… ugh!
“Aaaagh! N-no! Not that spell! Miwol! Please, please! W-we were friends, weren’t we? Just forgive me this once! I’ll do anything… anything at all! Please!”
Ignoring the blonde’s desperate pleas, Miwol finished the spell and cast it cleanly on Pungjin. Then she turned to the woman with a grin.
“There. You said you’d do anything, so this should be fine, right? Kahahaha! Go ahead and enjoy my pet dog to your heart’s content!”
Pungjin first felt relief when he realized the spell caused him no pain. But soon his heart began racing and a burning heat spread through his body.
What the hell kind of magic is this…?
When he looked around in confusion, Miwol had already vanished.
“What… what is this?”
Pungjin turned to the blonde woman, his face full of questions.
But her eyes held only horrific fear, resignation, and disgust.
“Um… excuse me… I’m… well, they call me Jinjin… or rather, my name is Pungjin. May I ask yours? And… do you happen to know exactly what the Mistress wants me to do?”
She had clearly been captured by Miwol, but Pungjin spoke as politely as possible in case she held a higher status than him.
Shinji glared at him with a face burning with fury.
In that instant, Pungjin felt his cock surge with explosive erection. His whole body trembled. Come to think of it, since arriving in this world he had rarely—if ever—gotten hard. Had Miwol cast some kind of spell on him?
Between the desperate struggle to survive and the constant presence of the beautiful, provocatively dressed Miwol whose scent constantly surrounded him, he had never found a reason to release his semen. But now, after so long, the thick, rich sensation of male sexual desire blazed through every inch of his body. He had no idea what to do with himself.
At that moment, Shinji let out a sigh and spoke.
“Yeah… now you understand, don’t you? It looks like you’re feeling it pretty clearly.”
