Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Take Off Panties
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Another new day had dawned.
"......"
It was a perfect morning without even the slightest grogginess.
Thoughts of Han Chae-ah's breasts from yesterday kept popping into my head, making the day feel even better.
My heart had ached like it was being squeezed in a vise, but even factoring that in, the sensation had been incredible.
It was the moment I truly understood why men obsess over what was essentially just a lump of fat.
The genetic love for breasts—the maternal instinct—imprinted deep within.
The more I dwelled on it, the stronger the imprint became.
Breasts are the best.
I reached out my hand.
It even felt like Han Chae-ah's breasts were right there.
"This won't cut it."
I opened Sexgram and pulled up that photo from yesterday again.
Han Chae-ah's sky-blue underwear visible in the picture, along with her white bare breasts being fondled by her imaginary Kim Jinwoo.
Clear evidence that she'd fantasized about me kneading her naked tits like it was really happening.
"I didn't grope them like that."
To think she'd indulge in such fantasies.
She called me a pervert, but the real pervert's you.
If I'd known, I should've groped them more.
I regretted holding back—it left me with nothing but this lingering ache.
What if I'd slipped my hand right inside, just like she'd wanted?
No regrets then.
I pictured groping her breasts even more.
Horny slut—does getting felt up feel that good?
The goddess of Yeonsung University, helpless in my grasp, unable to do a thing.
Just gazing up at me with those teary eyes, powerless to resist as I slid my hand into her clothes—that's what I imagined.
Han Chae-ah, the object of everyone else's envy, parting her own top and begging for more in my indecent fantasy.
A lewd, erotic scene just like the one she'd conjured on Sexgram yesterday played out in my mind.
What had she done while thinking of that photo?
I didn't even need to hear it—I knew.
-I wanna masturbate!
A girl with thoughts like that?
Of course she'd enjoyed some solo happy time.
A total pervert bitch, jilling off by twisting the real events into her fantasies.
She probably didn't report it.
At least the threat of jail time seemed off the table. Relief washed over me.
I stared at Han Chae-ah's bare breasts in the Sexgram photo.
Pervert, huh?
Too late now—what're you gonna do about it?
You bared your tits yourself, practically begging me to look. It's only polite at that point.
It's not like staring wears them out.
In reality, I didn't even see her underwear.
I'd only rubbed over her clothes.
"A little fantasizing on my end can't hurt."
Acting on it might cross into crime territory, but just imagining? Harmless.
Any Yeonsung guy who hasn't fantasized about ravishing Han Chae-ah? I'd call him a saint on the spot.
Feels a bit better.
Gazing at her breasts lifted my mood.
Is this why everyone goes nuts for tits?
Who knew they had such healing powers?
Scary stuff.
"Haa."
I let out a deep breath, but my heart still felt heavy.
Didn't the breasts make it better?
Yeah.
They did.
But that didn't erase the harsh reality staring me down.
Sexgram had appeared out of nowhere one day.
Along with it, these quests.
The catch? Fail one, and you're dead.
What insane quest was today gonna throw at me to try and kill me off?
How far would it push me just to force a social death?
I couldn't stop worrying.
It's about time it showed up.
This godforsaken quest system, dishing out brutally sadistic challenges like it wanted me gone.
It did offer rewards to match, sure.
But those rewards can backfire hard if you roll wrong.
Nah.
As long as I keep Sexgram under wraps, nobody knows if I peeked at her masturbation fantasy or her nudes.
Scratch that last bit.
I just got worked up seeing the quest's malicious intent—like it really wants me dead.
The rewards, though? Rock solid.
A little pervy, maybe.
Yeah. Hit me with today's quest.
I left my studio apartment and headed for the lecture hall, anticipating whatever was coming.
Asking about her panty color? Piece of cake.
I groped her tits—panty color's nothing.
So, what panties you wearing today?
A meticulously worded message popped up.
"Yeah. Whatever it is, I'm braced for it—go ahead."
Even if it topped yesterday's madness, I could handle it.
Turn into trash?
Already did that once.
I faced off against Han Chae-ah—the big tits, I mean, the massive wall—and pulled it off.
Won't chicken out on someone else.
Already trash once.
Twice? Easy.
I'm ready.
Sorry, Han Chae-ah, but if it's too brutal, I'd come running to you.
Yeah.
I'm trash.
But I've gotta survive.
Life's precious.
Real death or social suicide? I'd pick the latter.
I was mentally prepared, but the thought of it actually happening still made my chest tighten.
Having to pull trashy, hate-magnet stunts every single day.
No way my mind stays at ease.
But I'll adapt eventually.
Someone once said: if you can't dodge it, enjoy it.
Taking a while to get to the "enjoy" part, though.
Can't keep whining forever.
Using Sexgram as an excuse to act pervy isn't all bad.
When else would I get to grope a goddess like Han Chae-ah?
Never, if I'd lived normally.
Everything's got upsides and downsides.
Threat of death, traded for once-in-a-lifetime thrills.
Not bad, aside from the steep price tag.
By the time I'd sorted my thoughts, I'd arrived at the lecture hall.
Today's class was run by the professor infamous for being a total snoozefest.
Not a ton of enrollees, and it wasn't required credit either—no one was forcing themselves into it.
Why was I here, then?
Botched my course registration.
Class nobody wants? It's a club for registration failures.
No familiar faces around, so I'd be listening alone and lonely.
"Wonder when it'll drop."
I'd just sat down and let out a heavy sigh when—
"Huh?"
One familiar face caught my eye.
Han Chae-ah.
Nah, not her.
My repeater classmate from cram school, Choi Ye-won.
Grad student under Professor Choi Ik-hyeon.
Department TA—and my old classmate—Choi Ye-won.
Her hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail, and she wore baggy sweats that looked like they'd seen better days.
Big round glasses perched on her nose, half-dead eyes glued to her laptop.
She ignored everyone around her, furiously setting up.
Probably prepping the computer before class started.
One of her TA duties.
Most profs handle their own setups, but some pawn it off on the TA.
This prof was notoriously old-school about it.
Famous for working students and TAs to the bone.
Long time no see, but she looked the same.
Except for the unusually sloppy outfit.
Back in cram school, she was known as one of the pretty ones.
Later, word got out she spent two hours every morning at the gym—running, workouts—and she became the "crazy classmate."
-Stamina's essential for good grades.
I could still picture her, drenched in sweat, flashing a thumbs-up.
-Wanna join? Pump up stamina, watch your scores climb.
That gym-obsessed maniac dragged me to the gym religiously throughout repeater hell.
I admit it.
She deserves a lot of credit for me making it to Yeonsung.
Looked like she hadn't ditched her workouts—her complexion was glowing.
Everyone said studying under Professor Choi was brutal, but no dark circles under her eyes? Proof of her insane stamina.
A mischievous urge hit me.
I tore off a bit of my eraser and flicked it at her while she was deep in focus.
Tok.
The eraser chunk bounced off her head.
She scowled and looked up.
Our eyes met.
"Uh, uh?"
Her eyes went wide the second she saw me, mouth dropping open.
Face screaming, Why the hell are you here?
"TA-nim, you look busy."
My words barely out, her voice boomed.
"You—you're taking this class?"
"Screwed up registration. This was the only major class left I could snag as a third-year."
"N-no, why—why take it?"
"Teasing a classmate who bombed registration? Harsh."
"That's not— I mean..."
She patted herself down, then shot up from her seat.
"Where you going?"
"D-don't follow me!"
"Hey, Choi Ye-won!"
I jumped up and chased after her as she bolted from her spot.
What the hell?
Acting like this toward an old friend you haven't seen in ages?
We hung out a few times during my leave—what gives?
A little hurt, honestly.
I followed her right out of the lecture hall.
But she didn't stop.
Fucking fast.
Damn, even my army track-star junior couldn't match that speed.
"Hey! Where you headed? Prof's gonna flip!"
"Sh-shut it! Scram!"
"What kinda talk is that to a classmate?"
"F-fuck off, you bastard!"
"Whoa, language."
"This situation calls for it!"
Huff, huff.
No matter how hard I ran, the gap wouldn't close—I finally halted, panting.
How's she that fast?
Skipped her morning workout?
Her routine meant legs day today.
And she still hauled ass like that?
Crazy bitch.
The instant I stopped, she vanished like a bullet.
That's a monster.
A stamina monster.
"Keeps hitting me every time, but that girl's got muscles for brains too."
How the hell did she even make it to grad school?
Wenwu jianbi or whatever—martial and scholarly prodigy?
I was still marveling at Choi Ye-won's stamina when—
Take Off Panties 0/1
📍 [*The stronger the teasing, the richer the reward.]
This insane system.
Shut your trap.
Now it's straight-up blatant.
No more beating around the bush.
Take off her panties.
I decided on the spot.
Han Chae-ah it is.
I'd briefly considered Choi Ye-won.
She'd be fine, right?
A good friend and classmate who'd roll with a joke.
If I told her my life depended on it, she'd help out.
But I felt bad hitting her up for it.
Plus...
Asking for her panties? She'd deck me dead.
Her punches look like they'd hurt like hell.
Panties, huh.
How do I get her to take them off without her filing a report?
Obviously...
That method?