The First Bus Promise

"Was I like this too, when I first came here?"

"...Yeah."

I answered, at least. When I'd first carried her into this room, Cheolgeom had been lying exactly like that — eyes closed, giving no reaction to anything at all.

"I see."

Cheolgeom poked Dan-geom's cheek with a fingertip.

Squish.

Poke.

"...Incredible."

She took a fistful of the girl's hair and let it sift through her fingers, over and over, and for a long while she simply stayed pressed against Dan-geom's side like that.

Watching them, I suddenly found myself wondering — how had Cheolgeom woken up, anyway?

Then I remembered the notifications that had poured out right before I dumped everything and collapsed that day.

That's it!

She'd leveled up, and that was what woke her.

"Hey, you remember back then? When you first woke up."

"...Mm."

Cheolgeom tilted her head, still toying with a strand of Dan-geom's hair.

"It was like a dream. A really, really long one."

"A dream?"

"Yeah. I can't remember what I saw, but it felt like I'd been asleep for ages."

"And then?"

"And then, from down below... something came."

"...Down below."

"Yeah. A very..."

She let the words trail off, and the tips of her ears went red.

"...nice feeling."

"..."

"And when I opened my eyes, there you were on top of me. Making that idiot face."

"..."

Back in my room, I picked the iron sword up off the floor. It was the first time I'd held it since it had gained a self.

"Ten thousand?"

"Only used a few times," my ass.

"You said you barely used it!"

That seller should have at least put some effort into his lies.

Dan-geom's count was zero. Cheolgeom's was in the tens of thousands. So was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it level, or usage count? It could easily be both.

Either way, I decided to start with the variable I could actually test. Cheolgeom had woken the moment I'd poured in 20,000 — so if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I pumped a fixed amount into Dan-geom, wouldn't she wake up too? How much it would take, well... I'd find out by pouring.

The next day — the fourth.

By now I knew exactly where Cheolgeom's body came undone. The depth at which her breathing changed, the beat at which her hips lifted off the bed.

"Hah... you've, seriously... gotten so much better...?"

"Right?"

Spurt.

Factor acquired. Injection. Pregnancy successful. The familiar notifications scrolled past one after another, and above Cheolgeom's belly a small window appeared.

Cheolgeom hugged the blanket to her and shut her eyes.

"...'m going to sleep. Don't wake me."

One factor, freshly given by Cheolgeom. This one was Dan-geom's share.

I looked once at the sleeping Cheolgeom, then sat down in front of Dan-geom. A girl with her eyes closed, nothing moving but her breath.

No — a dagger.

I didn't hesitate. A flicker of guilt did surface, but...

...I'd have to pour it in to wake her anyway.

Gently. Shallowly.

"Mmh...!"

Maybe because Dan-geom was even smaller than Cheolgeom, she felt even tighter inside. Just the head barely fit, and the sight of her pale white folds stretched around me was almost unbearably arousing.

"Thanks for the meal...!"

Slide.

I forced my way past the stubborn resistance, but Dan-geom gave no reaction at all. I'd just have to finish plenty of times, and plenty hard, to wake her up.

Her face was unresponsive, but her body wasn't. Dan-geom's pussy grew damp bit by bit, helping along my sewing.

"..."

Her brow creased faintly — and with that, she trembled, small and quick.

Spurt.

She'd climaxed. So she could come even in her sleep.

But no notification appeared. Probably because she had no factor to give.

"So not every piece of equipment carries a factor."

A little disappointing.

And then, right on the edge of release —

Inject!

"...Nineteen thousand?"

Cheolgeom's had been 4,500. A 2-Star's gauge started out more than four times bigger.

Four thousand a shot meant five times to pregnancy. Levels rose five at a time, and each step would get heavier the higher she climbed — so roughly twenty times to reach level 20. Cheolgeom had needed 20,000 in total, and if a 2-Star ran about double that, the math more or less checked out.

"...I can do this."

Ravishing a sleeping, female-shaped piece of equipment was, after all, easy work.

"...Burned her white."

Dan-geom's doll-like face had wound me up so badly that I managed a full four loads. Thanks to which her pussy was an absolute wreck.

"Nineteen hundred?"

One birth from Cheolgeom had been 225. A 2-Star was on a different plane from the very first line of the reward.

Four levels in one go. Dan-geom was level 10 now — halfway there. Keep pumping and she'd hit 20 in no time, but hammering away at a girl already carrying my child felt a bit off. Give birth, rest, then again. Slow and steady.

One more thing: the factor I'd just put in had been the last one I had.

Inventory: zero.

Well, Cheolgeom will cough up more.

Back in my room, I opened my status window. Six points remaining.

Put more into recovery speed and I could come more often. Put them into semen volume or pregnancy success rate and the gauge would fill faster. A faster gauge meant faster births, and faster births meant more to sell. But six points wouldn't move the needle no matter where I put them — and the lesson from dumping three into length was still vivid.

Points are the bottleneck.

Points came from leveling up. Leveling came from experience. And my experience only came from pregnancies — once every three days, once every four. Too slow.

Hunters leveled up in dungeons. So then — wouldn't experience earned in a dungeon become my experience too?

I opened a notepad.

Bus riding. One million won. My account held a little over 1.8 million. A million. A few days ago, that figure would have made me shriek. But this wasn't spending. More points meant faster births, and faster births meant more sales. This is an investment.

I put up a post on the Hunter Gallery's party-recruitment board.

I kept the body short. No rank. First time. Will do whatever I'm told.

An hour later: eleven views. Zero comments. Was it because I'd written that the rank field was empty? Or because I'd admitted it was my first time?

Then a comment came in.

And then one more.

I'd settle for lenient, honestly.

The E-Rank regular run. Supposedly the gentlest of all the gates. Gentle was fine by me — anywhere at all, so long as I could walk in holding a certificate with a blank where the rank should be.

The next day, when I stepped into the subspace, the fourth was waiting for me. Cheolgeom sat on the edge of the bed cradling the lump in her arms; I took it, ran my hands over it, and it became a sword.

Back in my room I checked my phone. Twenty-three views. Three comments. No messages.

Guess nobody takes a no-rank bus after all.

Well. I'd wait. Today was for selling the fourth.

Selling really is quick.

The fourth went with a single message. In under an hour, a million won had landed in my account — 1-Star First Strikes were going for a million a pop now, and the buyer was already angling to reserve the next one.

Cheolgeom needed to rest, and Dan-geom had only just conceived. A seller with nothing on the shelf — now that was a happy kind of problem.

That day, the gallery had a thread up about the sword I'd sold.

It wasn't that there was no reply — there were too many messages to get through.

The corners of my mouth climbed up on their own.

I decided to give Cheolgeom, who'd birthed the fourth, a few days of rest. Three births in a single week. Sure, she could pop one out in a day, but the girl needed a break.

That night.

"You're here?"

Cheolgeom was combing Dan-geom's hair. Tucking the blanket up to her chin, straightening her pillow.

"You take good care of her."

"...Mm."

"Do you dream too?"

Cheolgeom spoke to Dan-geom as she combed — as if there were any chance of an answer.

"You know..."

The combing paused.

"Sitting next to her like this makes it feel lonelier somehow. I was like that once too, you know."

"...I'll come by more often."

"Idiot. You come every day."

And the combing resumed. One strand, then another.

Then, for just a moment, the hand stopped at the hem of Dan-geom's clothes — at the silver flower pattern trailing down beside the pillow.

Cheolgeom brushed it once with her fingertip, quickly drew her hand back, and went back to combing.

The moment I was back in my room and tapped my phone awake —

Ding.

"...Oh."

A million won was one iron sword. Sell one iron sword, and I could afford one bus ride.

I lowered the phone and looked at the iron sword standing upright against the wall.

"I want to fuck you."

"...Why now, of all times."

Cheolgeom — only her eyes peeking out from under the blanket.

"I'm going to a gate tomorrow. Booked a bus."

"...A bus?"

"Tagging along with a party. And I'm bringing you with me."

Cheolgeom's eyes went round.

"...Me? Outside?"

"Yeah. You're the only weapon I've got."

She was quiet for a long while. Then she slid a hand out of the blanket and felt along her own side — the spot where the rust-like stain still sat, untouched by anything.

"...I'm like this, though."

"It's fine. You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠know you're all I have."

"...Liar."

Even so, she gave a small nod from inside the blanket.

"...Okay."

Ordinarily the word idiot would have come first. I glanced back once more before leaving the room. Cheolgeom was under the covers, rubbing again and again at the rust-marked side of her body.

Back in my room, just to be safe, I searched the gallery for that person's nickname. A handful of review posts about the E-Rank regular run. In the party photos: one man, two women. The comments all said more or less the same thing.

The leader in the photos was a big man whose eyes vanished entirely when he smiled. Reading through the posts, I decided it wasn't a bad choice.

2.8 million won in the account. After the bus fee, 1.8.

I wouldn't miss it. This wasn't spending — it was an investment.

Tomorrow, for the first time, I would step into a gate.

Not as a hunter, granted. But still.