New Target Registration Complete (2)
(2)
A crude machine resembling an old-school wireless pager.
Ohoo turned toward Ayoung, who was trembling pale-faced, and asked in a heavy tone.
"Hey, this thing—does pressing the button really just send a signal as a pager? No walkie-talkie function or GPS tracking or anything?"
In front of Han Eunbyeol, who had frozen in place.
The moment Ayoung saw the worn-out pager Ohoo held out, she gasped for the breath she'd been holding and clutched her face with both hands.
She was clearly under hypnosis.
But that tiny device, which had defined the very essence of Park Ayoung as a person...
The inferiority complex tied to the pager and memories of being discarded surged back vividly, turning the rims of her eyes bloodshot red.
"This pager..."
Ayoung opened her mouth in a quivering voice.
"Thirty years ago, before I even awakened my powers, my father gave it to me."
Ohoo and Miyang's gazes focused intently.
"Back when he last saw me as his proud daughter... He shoved it into my hands, telling me to press the button and call for Daddy if anything dangerous happened."
Thick tears plopped from Ayoung's eyes.
"But... on the day Mom died right in front of me in that bomb terror attack. I awakened my powers amid the chaos and barely survived, pressing this pager..."
Her father had come to rescue her, as promised.
But he was too late. Mom was already charred to a crisp.
"After that day, once he learned I'd awakened this worthless minor regeneration ability, he discarded me like a bug."
Ayoung clenched her fists tight and glared resentfully at the frozen Eunbyeol.
"From then on, Father stopped seeing me as his daughter. And he ruthlessly took away this pager I'd cherished like my life..."
Ayoung's voice cracked.
"And gave it to his new successor... to Shooting Star... to Sara unnie. 'You're no longer useful, so I'll give it to my proud disciple.'"
Rapidstar, that old bastard... even more of a piece of shit than I thought. Lucky he's not a villain.
Ohoo felt a sharp tingle pierce through his emotional control hypnosis at the mention of his mother's name.
"Sara unnie used the pager just once, when she was surrounded by villains, then returned it to Father. She said she could stand on her own and didn't need such overprotection. After that, it must've just sat gathering dust..."
Ayoung wiped her tears and added,
"It's an old model—sends only one receive-only signal straight to Father's dedicated communicator. No eavesdropping or real-time location tracking."
Confirming the pager's function was purely signal transmission.
Ohoo set the pager down on the table and sank into thought.
Pathetic as she was, Ayoung's miserable backstory. Rapidstar's inhuman actions.
Discarding his own daughter based on her powers alone and obsessing over his disciple with twisted attachment.
And handing that ancient pager to Eunbyeol, who looked exactly like the dead Shooting Star from head to toe—what was Rapidstar's intent?
This... is straight out of an eroge plot formula.
Ohoo began a thorough examination of the game's worldview.
Until now, I'd seen Rapidstar as just a loose-screw S-rank hero, or maybe a monster who'd kill us all if he caught us torturing Ayoung. He's a hero, after all. But...
By eroge worldview logic, an old mentor with immense power obsessing abnormally over a young successor who eerily resembles his dead former disciple, bestowing a special item?
Nine times out of ten. No, one hundred percent chance it's buildup to a hardcore dark plot twist.
There was no way that Rapidstar geezer had taken in this incompetent wannabe out of pure justice.
Crazy perverted old fuck. Planning to mold a girl who looks like my mom to his tastes for surrogate satisfaction?
He couldn't let that happen.
Ohoo resolved to thoroughly separate Eunbyeol from that lecherous old Rapidstar.
He couldn't stand by and watch this wannabe, draped in his mother's shadow, unknowingly fall into depravity—worst case, becoming Rapidstar's sex slave.
To prevent that, he had to keep this reckless aspirant right under his nose, under his control—the safest place.
"I've decided."
Ohoo broke the silence.
"I want to make this girl a real hero, just like our mom—Shooting Star."
"...Nyang?!"
"Pardon...?"
Miyang and Ayoung stared back and forth between Ohoo and the bewildered, frozen Eunbyeol at his abrupt declaration.
Miyang shot back bluntly, incredulous.
"Pfft, come on, Master! For such a grand dream, you saw her powers earlier! They're so lame even pigeons would laugh—how're ya gonna make her like Shooting Star?!"
"That's why."
Ohoo replied calmly, brimming with conviction.
"We'll grow together. She's got no shot alone, so she'll live under our roof with us. With Park Ayoung's support and your training, Miyang."
He declared his own plan to raise a new Shooting Star.
"Alright, then—let's release the hypnosis and talk to her."
As Ohoo pulled out his smartphone to delete Eunbyeol's sensory block command,
"Wait, Master!"
Miyang, standing beside him, urgently grabbed his wrist before he could tap the screen.
"What's up, Miyang?"
Ohoo turned, and Miyang jutted her chin, pointing at Park Ayoung.
"We gotta nail this down first. I dunno how you'll handle Han Eunbyeol from now on, but before that... we need to slam that kneeling bitch Park Ayoung's discipline straight to the floor."
Miyang's slitted cat pupils gleamed mischievously.
In her mind, more than Eunbyeol's living situation, she craved to humiliate and torment that thorn-in-her-side Park Ayoung in the most shameful way possible.
If cohabitation with Eunbyeol started now, her thrilling routine of slave-treating and abusing Ayoung would obviously get disrupted.
"So, Master, let's do one perfect revenge fit for us, then release her."
Miyang smirked, pointing right in front of the blankly frozen Eunbyeol—who heard and saw nothing.
"Right here, with that girl who looks exactly like your mom staring wide-eyed! Make Park Ayoung that bitch get mercilessly fucked by you, moaning and begging forgiveness with tears and snot streaming down!"
"...!"
Miyang's outrageous, humiliating proposal echoed through the living room.
Ayoung's shoulders stiffened.
The woman who looked just like Shooting Star—the one she'd envied and destroyed.
Stripped bare in front of her, ravaged by her own nephew Ohoo, forced to scream in ecstasy?
It would grind down every shred of pride and self she'd built her whole life—a supreme mental torture.
Ohoo and Miyang's gazes turned to her in unison.
A strange tension filled the living room.
"..."
Ayoung's hands clenched white-knuckled on her knees.
Though hypnotized now as a safety measure, even without it, her psyche had reached submission to Ohoo after the soundproof room torment.
Still, it was humiliating. Mortifying enough to bite her tongue.
But if it was her Master's will... she had to endure it gladly.
"...I accept."
Though her voice trembled slightly, Ayoung bowed deeply to the floor without a hint of defiance and replied firmly.
The poised executive Park Ayoung vanished without a trace, replaced by the answer of a tamed bitch.
Her obedience left Ohoo taken aback instead.
He turned to Miyang with a somewhat absurd look and asked,
"You okay with this?"
"Nyang? With what?"
"Me fucking her right here, leaving you out."
But Miyang puffed out her chest, chin high, replying triumphantly.
"Y'know those Joseon-era palace dramas? The queen—head wife—managed and scheduled all the concubines' bedroom times! That's the broad magnanimity and privilege of the top consort!"
He was floored by her shameless logical leap claiming head consort status.
"And Master, you were so worried earlier when my pussy almost got wrecked, right? My pussy's off-duty today! It'll rest fully, so that Park Ayoung slut's pussy better work overtime hard!"
"Haa..."
Normally, he'd flick her forehead hard.
And the idea of penetrating Ayoung should've repulsed him.
But Ohoo's brain was currently steeped in the powerful emotional control hypnosis of Maintain absolute calm.
He was colder than necessary.
Ayoung needed prolonged suffering.
His first revenge on her had made his hands shake despite hypnosis, and insertion repelled him.
But with recent workouts slimming him down—even subtly—erasing traces of his old fat self gave him confidence.
His cold, rational mind filtered even Miyang's nonsense as an efficient means of revenge and hierarchy enforcement.
"Yeah. You're right, Miyang."
Ohoo nodded, accepting her proposal.
"But before executing today's punishment, I need to fix my body first. Can't deliver proper discipline with these busted joints."
At Ohoo's command, Ayoung rose from her prostrated position and opened the silver metal case on the living room table.
Inside were top-grade regeneration serums she'd smuggled from the Committee.
Ohoo roughly yanked off the cumbersome knee and ankle braces wrapped around his legs.
Then, taking the cold syringe without hesitation, he plunged the thick needle straight into a vein in his thigh.
Pfshk-.
As the syringe's plunger depressed, the serum flooded into Ohoo's veins like mad.
Crack! Grind! Crunch!
A grotesque symphony of fractured cartilage and ligaments snapping back into place and fusing echoed chillingly through the living room from Ohoo's knee and ankle.
"Haa... haaah..."
Ohoo vividly felt the recovery process with his cool head.
Calculating the imminent act purely as punishment.
And against that backdrop of bones grinding into alignment...
Swish-.
Kneeling on the floor, Park Ayoung began silently, neatly stripping off her clothes one by one to await her impending punishment.
So Eunbyeol wouldn't freak out post-hypnosis and notice.
She folded her discarded clothes and skirt neatly at perfect angles beside her.
As his joints popped back into place with thunderous cracks, Ohoo fully recovered physically and loomed his shadow over Ayoung.
And right in front of the blankly frozen Eunbyeol with blocked senses, Ayoung knelt naked—not a stitch on—awaiting her master's chastisement.
"Alright, let's get started."
Body restored by the serum, Ohoo looked down alternately at the nude, waiting Ayoung and the rigid Eunbyeol.
Then he began today's full-scale punishment.