Brothel Brawl with the Playboy Heir
"Well, if it isn't the talk of the town, Young Master Jong!"
Pang Jin-gun was the first to greet me familiarly.
It was unexpected.
He cupped his hands in a greeting with a debauched smile. Stuck to his side like a shit-fish was Namgung Hyeok. The guy's face soured the moment he spotted me.
"Fancy running into you like this. Looks like you've been itching to let loose too, eh, Young Master Jong?"
Pang Jin-gun had survived the Yongho Contest. There was a reason his family turned a blind eye to his playboy antics—he had the basic skills to back it up.
"You got it. Here for a bite to eat, Young Master Pang? And you too, Young Master Hyeok?"
"The food here's top-notch, but the girls? Out of this world. Not quite on Gold Pleasure House level, but damn close."
Pang Jin-gun drooled over the details. Reading the lust on my face, his eyes lit up.
"Care to join us, Young Master Jong? It's on me tonight. You've proven yourself in the Yongho Contest—no shortage of fun with us."
I hadn't expected an invite to sit with him. This guy's not half bad, maybe.
'In the original story, he's just your typical wastrel. No real scheming bastard.'
Public opinion on him was trash, but that's what makes hanging with guys like this fun. I accepted the offer.
The room Pang Jin-gun had reserved was massive. Unlike Namgung Jigon's secretive backroom deal spot, this was built for wild parties with girls. Big enough for five round tables with room to spare.
Namgung Hyeok still looked pissed. He was on guard against me. But Pang Jin-gun, the room's booker, was king here.
Drinks came out before the food. The same Shao Hong Jiu I'd had earlier.
This inn used top-shelf glutinous rice-fermented Shao Hong Jiu—priced two or three times higher than elsewhere.
But Pang Jin-gun filled an entire table with bottles of it. True to his Central Plains roots, the guy was big-spending and loved excess. Women were his absolute favorite, no doubt.
Booze and food were just sides. As soon as the dishes hit, a line of stunning beauties filed in. The huge room suddenly felt cramped. I counted—ten girls.
Quality wasn't bad. Plenty who'd make you double-take on the street. Classic Central Plains rabbit-faced beauties, one-night stands, big-sis types, little-sister vibes—all mixed in. This inn matched its food with high-class courtesans.
'One total dud, though... probably Namgung Hyeok's assignment.'
The girl at the far right was honestly below average. Like pairing luxury heels with cheap sneakers. She trembled, eyes darting, clearly out of her depth—completely crushed by the vibe.
The courtesans started introducing themselves willy-nilly. I tuned them out. Names? Who cares.
High-end inns doubled as brothels. Booze makes the real money in food biz, and hookers seal the deal.
Pang Jin-gun claimed the head seat. Legs splayed arrogantly, he scanned the incoming girls with lewd, filthy eyes.
If he eyed my women like that, I'd have gouged them out. Gave off sleazy small-company boss hitting a lounge. If he'd been born modern, he'd fit right in.
Suddenly, he pulled a stamp from his robe. Twirling it on his finger, he barked,
"Turn around."
The courtesans spun silently. Without hesitation, Pang Jin-gun hiked up their skirts. Shockingly casual.
But he didn't stop. He bunched their panties at the crotch for T-backs, then stamped their asses like pork.
上 (Superior)
中 (Medium)
下 (Inferior)
Three types. Right there, he graded them like meat. Didn't see them as people.
Now I got why his rep was rock-bottom. Hitting brothels didn't tank your image in the martial world—heroes got a pass for debauchery. But Pang Jin-gun took it next level.
'Sharp eye. That third girl's pretty-faced but caked in makeup. Narrow hips like a dude's, tiny tits. Thinks binding 'em fools everyone, but not me. Inferior masquerading as medium.'
'Huh? That one's superior material, right? Oh! Pubic mound bulging through panties like bulgogi. Caught it in a flash? Insane dynamic vision.'
Under two minutes, he ranked all ten. Spot-on. This fucker was a lounge genius.
Even for courtesans, this crushed their pride to dust.
A few teared up in shame and rage; others ground teeth, swallowing fury. Maybe a Hao Mun spy in the mix. Pang Jin-gun could get assassinated any day. Nothing like that in the original, though.
Clink!
He plunked a pouch on the table. Silver coins jingled inside. No bullshit.
"I want warm pussy. Preheat it."
Straight shooter. And money talks.
"Right away~"
One sat on a chair, legs spread. Skirt and panties off—bottomless fashion. She'd shown no reaction to his inspection. Desperate for cash or used to black-hole consumers like him.
She pulled a jade hairpin, started masturbating. Blunt end teasing her clit slow. Top unbuttoned, tweaking nipples. Bold enough to impress even Pang Jin-gun.
He tossed two taels of silver into her pocket. Other girls' eyes went wide.
'Knows how to handle courtesans.'
I used the same tricks often.
Sudden masturbation show from the girls. Tools varied.
Some fingered normally; one used her hairpin like the first. Most memorable: grinding on a chair corner. Pang Jin-gun chucked her two taels.
"Haha. Never gets old, this beautiful sight."
He grabbed chopsticks. Ordered the show, then ate casually. Namgung Hyeok, eyeing him, picked up his spoon.
"Not eating, Young Master Jong?"
"Ate already. But damn, chowin' down with horny bitches in front? You're a beast, Young Master Pang."
"Haha! Stamina's from food—can't skip it. Hang tight. I'll scarf quick."
He didn't eat much. Set down chopsticks fast. But that short time was plenty for the girls to heat up.
Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!
Crowd effect?
Even the shy starters sped up amid the wet, slutty sounds and sights. Chain reaction—all pussies dripping clear nectar.
"What do you think, Young Master Jong?"
"Of what?"
"Which bitch looks like the best fuck? A master like me can tell from masturbation alone."
Competitive fire ignited. He treated brothels like home turf? I wouldn't back down in play either.
"Far left's loose, probably. Two over? Tight grip, but clumsy wank—newbie courtesan. Needs time to ripen skills and body. She's raw. Best here is..."
I approached the walking masturbators. Flicked the clit of the second from left. She flopped like a beached carp, pussy squirting nectar.
"This one. Mind if I check?"
Pang Jin-gun's eyes bugged in awe at my pick.
"Spot on! I pegged her best too. Young Master Jong! More than meets the eye. Finally, a worthy rival. Hyeok here's tastes don't match— no contest."
He was fired up too.
"Bet? Who makes more girls cum faster, more times."
Too easy. Even a brothel god like him couldn't beat Power of Sex.
"You sure?"
"Hahat! First to question me. Bet I satisfy every bitch here."
"Same."
"No bluff. I like it. Loser fucks that courtesan."
He pointed at Namgung Hyeok's dud. She whimpered. Pure human trash.
"Deal."
And I wasn't much better.
I loved fun, but no fetish for sloppy seconds. Rules set:
One: Satisfy four each. Orgasms count. Namgung Hyeok judges.
Two: Total cums for score.
Three: Compare after one gajin (two hours). Higher wins.
"Best of luck, milord..."
Four came to me: one superior, two medium, one inferior.
"No time. Build an ass tower."
"Uh, ass tower?"
They didn't know? Gold Pleasure House girls got it quick. Still green.
"Stack your asses into a tower."
"Such lewd thinking..."
They stacked into a four-tier ass tower. Always a sight. I drummed from top—smack smack thwack.
'Top's firmest, bottom weakest.'
'Bottom pussy's the door. Upper ones peek like windows.'
Glanced at Pang Jin-gun. He'd built one too. Brothel pro.
"Tower too, eh? True man of my approval."
He whipped out his dick. I dropped pants simultaneously. Mine bigger. He tsked, ego bruised.
"Size ain't everything—you know that. Mine's a wonder sword. Stallion power and speed."
"Mine's ox-strong. Length and girth pierce wombs in one thrust."
Thrust into top pussy. Pre-warmed from show—sucked me right in.
"Nngh~♥"
Pang matched. Our duel began. Hotter than swordfight.