Prologue: I Gave Up on the World, But Not on Myself
One day, a strange sticker appeared on my house. I lived alone in a two-story detached house in Sillim-dong, left to me by my late parents—a place too awkward to rent out to anyone else.
"National Election Commission Special Management Zone? What the hell is this?" I tried to peel off the sticker, which looked like some kind of joke, but whatever adhesive they used made it impossible to tear or peel.
I even stabbed at it with a box cutter, only for the blade to bounce off thin air with a sharp clang. Watching the blade graze my cheek as it ricocheted away like magic, I decided to just ignore the sticker. "Whatever... must be an indestructible object."
Sitting down at my computer, I instinctively opened my "Skylark" folder. Staring at the familiar body of an actress whose video I had watched so many times I knew exactly which position she would take at any given second, I pulled down my pants. It took less than a second to drop my pants and boxers. But just as I gripped my fully erect shaft, the doorbell rang.
"Wow, is this timing fucking real?" As I awkwardly pulled my boxers back up, the doorbell kept ringing relentlessly. Grimacing with pure irritation, I yelled toward the front door, "I'm coming! I said I'm coming! Jesus, you're gonna break the bell!"
Hastily pulling up my pants, I rushed out and yanked the front door open with a scowl. "Look, why the hell are you ringing the bell like—" I froze. Standing before me was a girl wearing a white winter coat.
I slowly turned my head back toward my room. On my glowing computer screen, Asamiya Yuma was frozen mid-video. I rolled my eyes back to the front door. Standing right there was Asamiya Yuma.
"Jongun-san?" her bright, sweet voice called out. Her cute, wide eyes—contrasting sharply with her famously voluptuous body—gazed up at me with concern.
"Ah, uh... I mean, watashi wa Han Jongun desu... Wait, why are you here?!" As I stammered in panic, Yuma giggled. Meanwhile, my lower abdomen grew even harder, throbbing so intensely it felt like the blood flow was being cut off.
"Jongun-san, kawaii!" Laughing in a voice as sweet as a chirping songbird, Yuma naturally pulled me by the hand and stepped inside. This was suspicious. It was bizarre. It was utterly absurd. But honestly, who cared?
The soft brush of her hips, the sweet scent of fresh peaches wafting from her, and her bright, innocent smile—I was practically on the verge of a double nosebleed. Yuma looked at the computer screen glowing in my room and pointed at herself with a cute tilt of her head. "Is this... me?"
I nodded shyly. Giggling, Yuma slipped off her white coat right in front of me. Underneath, it was practically nothing but bare skin. Well, she was wearing underwear, but it was hard to even call it that—they were more like pasties and a string.
Her massive I-cup breasts were barely held up by thin black strings. Swaying her slender waist and her unbelievably voluptuous, non-Asian-like hips, she pointed down at the lush forest peeking between her thighs and spoke. "Want to come inside? I'm free today."
Free today? What did that even mean? Had she been busy before? Pushing my chaotic thoughts aside, I grabbed her shoulders. They were small and delicate; she was so petite that she would fit perfectly in my arms. Yuma stared up at me with wide, round eyes.
"You... No, why did you suddenly ring my doorbell? Why are you here?" It was a fundamental question. If Japan's most famous AV actress suddenly rang your doorbell and demanded to come inside, you'd be an absolute idiot not to find it suspicious.
As I anxiously wondered if there was a hidden camera on her or if someone was watching from outside, Yuma let out a soft chuckle. "I came to Korea for shopping. In Myeong-dong. And then, well, I suddenly felt like coming here, so I took a taxi."
"You suddenly felt like coming here?" "My crotch was tingling. And seeing you, Oppa, now I know why. You look just like my oldest brother."
The "oldest brother" Yuma mentioned was someone even I knew about. He was famous. He was the piece of trash who had forced himself on Yuma when she was in high school, setting her life on this path before eventually being disowned by the entire family. Because of that trauma, Yuma had developed a bizarre rape fetish, which ironically launched her highly successful career in the adult industry. I suppose you could call it a silver lining... but still, hearing that I looked like that brother wasn't exactly a compliment.
Is she out of her mind? It wasn't like she was possessed by a shaman, so how could she just "suddenly feel like coming here"? It made absolutely no sense. Unless this world was an erotic novel, a plot development like this would easily warrant a 5,000-character hate comment.
"Jongun-ssi, do you dislike me?" "No! No, of course not! I jerk off to you every single day!" To an outsider, that might sound like the confession of a lunatic, but it was the absolute truth. I had a dedicated folder for Asamiya Yuma on my external hard drive, and I was such a hardcore fan that I even imported her physical releases directly from Japan.
At my words, Yuma pressed her lower body flush against my leg. "Thank you. I'm so touched." Wrapping her arms around my waist, she barely reached my chest. She looked up at me with a shy smile.
Ah... did I live my entire life just for this moment? I didn't care what was happening anymore; pure, unadulterated bliss filled my heart. How could someone so petite have breasts so massive? The soft, pillowy sensation pressing against my chest completely scrambled my brain.
"Yuma..." "You can do whatever you want with me, Oppa." My memory became a blur from that point on. I pulled up her top. Her white bra was overflowing, struggling to contain breasts so massive they couldn't possibly fit in two hands. They were so pale and perfect. The videos didn't do them justice at all. This was the real deal.
The moment her breasts—famous for their sheer size and pink nipples—were fully revealed, I practically had to clutch my chest from a literal heart attack. Just looking at them felt like taking a double upper-cut to the heart. They were more beautiful than any breasts I had ever seen in my life, swaying gently right before my eyes.
"Do you like them?" At Yuma's question, I nodded vigorously. Anyone who said no to this was gay. No, even a gay man would look at these breasts and fall in love. They were so grand they could awaken the inner baby in any man—truly, the breasts of a holy mother.
They were so perfect that touching them felt like a sin. I felt like the Big Breast Association would smite me with a Bible for sacrilege the moment I defiled their shape. As I hesitated, agonizing over whether I was even worthy of touching them, Yuma took my hands and guided them directly onto her breasts. "Squeeze them."
They were so soft. Was this what a freshly baked morning roll felt like? Even the squishy toys I used to play with in school weren't this soft. Plump, bouncy, and incredibly tender. Losing myself for a moment, I kneaded her breasts wildly, drawing a cute whimper from her lips. "Ah..."
Snapping back to reality, I quickly pulled my hands away. Red handprints were clearly visible against her milky-white skin. "I-I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" As I prepared to drop to my knees and perform a full dogeza, Yuma crossed her arms over her chest and smiled cutely. "It's okay, Oppa. I like it rough too."
She wrapped her arms around me like an angel. Ah... I was an atheist, but Yuma's breasts were so warm they made me want to weep. I didn't live a wasted life. I, Han Jongun, had lost my parents, suffered through countless hardships, and ended up completely alone in this world—but right now, my life was finally being rewarded.
"I love you, Yuma-chan." "I love you too, Oppa." Yuma led me to the living room sofa. My heart throbbed with anticipation. Imagining the most intense scenes from my favorite videos of her, I finally came face-to-face with Yuma's actual pussy—the real thing, completely unpixelated.
It was sacred. Tears welled up in my eyes because I had only ever imagined this. Ah, if there is a saint in this world, it must be you. I had to be the only Korean to ever see Asamiya Yuma's real, raw pussy in person. The multi-time winner of Japan's prestigious V1 Contest in 2022, 2023, and 2024—and I was about to become the first Korean to penetrate her.
"Ah, ikimasu..." My heart pounded just as wildly as her twitching entrance. Why was this happening? How did I get into this situation? Was there a hidden camera? Would my face show up in an AV six months from now? All of those worries evaporated. The raw pussy of Asamiya Yuma—the cute, glamorous, sexy reigning queen of the AV industry, a superstar who shot over 300 videos a year. And now, I was about to enter her.
Drawing a mental sign of the cross, I aligned my virgin shaft with her entrance and pushed inside. Tight? No, it was incredibly chewy—if you could experience the texture of a perfectly chewy rice cake through your dick instead of your mouth, this was it. Feeling her walls wrap around my shaft, I instinctively clenched my glutes. Tears of pure emotion welled in my eyes, and pre-cum leaked from my tip.
The soft, cozy depths of her vagina were soaking wet, contracting and relaxing in a perfect rhythm that made it incredibly easy to move. Her technique was so mind-blowing that I felt like I would blow my load just by staying still. But I wasn't about to waste my chance to mate with the reigning queen of the AV world. Thrusting deep and hard, my hips began to pump like a runaway steam train. My movements were unstoppable. Even Yuma, who had seemed so composed, began to moan wildly. "Ah! Oppa, you're too thick! Ah, it's hitting my cervix!"
Driven to madness by her cute voice, I leaned down and bit her nipple, pulling on it. Sucking both her pink areola and nipple into my mouth at the same time—this was the climax play from her famous video, FDX-2051110. After a few more frantic thrusts, Yuma's waist began to tremble violently, just like in her videos. Completely forgetting that I wasn't wearing a condom, I unleashed a torrent of hot semen deep inside her like a firework. "Get pregnant with my baby, Yuma!!!"
Shouting the line I had only ever dreamed of saying, I watched Yuma arch her back in ecstasy and thought to myself that I could die happy right now. Then, my consciousness faded.
After our passionate session, Yuma spent the night at my place. I still didn't know why she had come or why she wanted to sleep with me, but she was definitely real. She confirmed she had come to Korea for cosmetics shopping. After going at it one more time at her request, I even cooked up some beef short ribs I had been saving, fed her, and sent her on her way.
My mind was in a daze. But with her scent lingering throughout the house, a signed CD sitting on my table, and her personal Line contact saved on my phone, there was no doubt this wasn't a dream. "Man, am I gonna get struck by lightning and die tomorrow? They say when something this good happens, it's a sign you're about to kick the bucket."
Scratching my head, I walked back to my room, only to find a strange black window open on my computer screen. A cursor blinked on the empty black screen. As I stared at it, the cursor began to type out words.
> Hey, did you enjoy it?
Korean? As I took a step back, looking like I'd seen a ghost, the blinking cursor typed out another line to stop me.
> Don't freak out, dumbass.
> Look at you, always such a coward. Well, I guess I was the same. After our parents passed away, we kept every single light in the house on for a while.
I couldn't hide my shock as I read the words appearing on the screen—secrets that only I could possibly know. "Who the hell are you?" At my question, the cursor seemed to burst into laughter. Rows of "lol", "haha", "www", and various other internet laughs in Korean, Chinese, Japanese, and English flooded the screen. Then, the laughter abruptly stopped, and the cursor typed out its reply.
> I'm you. Han Jongun. If you age about 25 years and reach 50, you'll look exactly like me. Well, since you're not a virgin anymore, maybe things will turn out slightly different.
I blinked at the blinking cursor. Honestly, it wasn't something I wanted to believe. A 50-year-old version of me talking to my past self through a computer screen defied all common sense. But I had no choice but to believe it. The cursor began to spill secrets that only I—and absolutely no one else—knew.
> The girl you fell for in your first year of middle school was a smart, glasses-wearing nerd. Her name was Kim Ryusu. It was an unusual name, and she wasn't even that pretty, but you fell in love at first sight and carried that unrequited crush for seven years. Then, you finally gave up on her when she was a sophomore in high school. You cried like a pathetic loser, all by yourself in the bathroom.
It was a memory absolutely no one else possessed. Only a few close friends knew I liked Kim Ryusu, and even they didn't know I had pined after her for seven long years. When I found out she had become the girlfriend of a school delinquent I knew, I had sobbed my eyes out. No one knew I did it in the bathroom. Because that bathroom was the one right here in my house. "Holy shit... are you really me?"
> Yeah, I'm you. I also know the very first adult video you ever watched was a hentai when you were in the sixth grade. The plot was about a magical girl who—
"Okay, stop right there!"
> Believe me now?
"Yeah, I believe you. Ah... fuck... Jesus. My future self is talking to me? How?"
> Think about it. The AI of your era went from generating distorted, unrecognizable images to producing three-minute, movie-quality videos in just a single year. What do you think happens after twenty-five years?
"Technology advanced so much it can transcend time?"
> Exactly. Well, I built most of it myself, but the technology to transcend space-time has already been perfected. Plus, in my era, it's been proven that superpowers and gods actually exist. Ah, is that too much of a spoiler?
"What do you mean gods and superpowers actually exist?!"
> Well, that's just how it turned out. To put it simply, humanity awakened its latent potential on the brink of extinction.
"Then does the future me—I mean, do you have superpowers too?"
> Well, it's less of a superpower and more of an awakened potential. In my case, I awakened it a long time ago... Let's just say my body sensed a crisis when it realized the transmission of my unique genetic code was becoming impossible.
"What kind of bullshit is that?"
> It means because the owner of this body was about to die a virgin, the body went into overdrive and hyper-activated my brain functions just so I could finally get laid, you bastard!
"You realize if I'm a bastard, you're a bastard too, right?"
> Yeah... you bastard.
So, in short, I was destined to live as a virgin until I died at fifty, and my body, unable to watch this tragedy unfold, pushed my potential to the absolute limit to grant me a Super Brain. "Damn it... other people awaken when they're about to die, but I awakened because I couldn't lose my virginity? Isn't that a bit much?"
> Tell me about it. When I suddenly became a genius after turning forty, I had no idea what was happening. But even then, I couldn't lose my virginity. Even with a memory that let me read and memorize eighteen books in a single night, my lifelong virgin energy was something even a Super Brain couldn't overcome.
"Sigh... so that's why you did this to me? By putting up that National Election Commission sticker?"
> Wasn't it funny? "National Election Commission." Even I thought it was a pretty witty joke.
"Now I know why you—no, I—stayed a virgin until fifty, you prick."
> Anyway, the world is going to end soon. I'm barely holding on inside a bunker right now, but I'll probably die shortly. This is likely my last transmission. I'm exhausted, and there's nothing more I can do.
"What? What do you mean? Why is the world suddenly ending, you bastard?!"
> Even if I told you, is there anything you could actually do?
"Still, I need to know something so I can prepare! And you said I'd get a Super Brain too!"
> You won't get the Super Brain. Because I warped and twisted space-time to make this happen, there's a penalty. Just think of it as cosmic punishment for being a spoiler-spouting prick.
"If I don't have the Super Brain... aren't I just a normal virgin loser?"
> Pretty much. But hey, you're not a total virgin anymore. Didn't you have an amazing night with Asamiya Yuma?
"It was great, but you just said the world is ending soon! I'd rather live longer, even if it meant staying a virgin!"
> Trust me, living a long life as a virgin isn't as great as you think. I'm living proof of that. Just take your current memories and live happily.
"Fuck you." The black cursor giggled at my anger.
> Well, half of that was a joke. Honestly, your body isn't just a regular virgin's anymore. Do you really think I went through all the trouble of tearing through space-time just to get you laid once by an AV actress?
"I knew it! There's something more, right?" Sensing my excitement at the prospect of something incredible, the black cursor typed out a smiley face and dumped a long manual onto the screen. It was an explanation of my current body's abilities.
[Sex Jamming]
In exchange for sacrificing the Super Brain, you have acquired a powerful mental jamming ability. Due to the severe distortion of history, heavy penalties apply, limiting its output. However, against a single target, you can do whatever you want. Brainwashing, training, anal play, BDSM—anything is possible.
"Anything... at all?"
Yes, absolutely everything. In theory, this ability allows you to dominate elves, dragons, and even the most high and mighty gods.
Leaving behind the black cursor, which had typed out a thumbs-up emoji, I carefully read through the manual. Mental Jamming—no, Sex Jamming. I could cast Sex Jamming on any target I was aware of. Anyone caught in the Sex Jamming would have their mind heavily modified, forcing them to have sex with me and making them believe that doing so was completely natural.
The higher the target's mental resistance, the greater the penalty of Sex Jamming. This penalty manifested as brain damage—specifically, a reduction in my lifespan. If casting Sex Jamming on an ordinary human within a ten-meter radius cost twenty-four hours of my lifespan, casting it on a Demon King-level entity could instantly shave off fifty years. The maximum effective range of Sex Jamming was 40,000 kilometers, meaning I could theoretically cast it from Korea on a woman living in Brazil. However, doing so even on an ordinary human would cause severe brain damage, reducing my lifespan by over a year.
> Since Sex Jamming works by transmitting your brainwaves directly to the target, the load on your brain increases exponentially the further away they are.
"So if I had cast it blindly without this explanation, I could have just dropped dead on the spot?"
> Hey, that's why I'm explaining it all to you, dummy. I modified your body entirely for your own good.
"So you admit you experimented on my body!"
> Isn't being a Casanova better than dying a virgin? Do you have any idea how miserable my life was? I was so desperate I actually considered entering a Gate just to see if I could seduce a goblin.
"A Gate?"
> Ah, that's a pretty major spoiler. Forget I said that.
"How the hell am I supposed to forget that, you lunatic?! A Gate? Are actual Gates going to appear in reality? Like the ones that show up in every single web novel?"
> Yeah, fuck, that's exactly it. Within ten years, Gates will open all over the world. Their goal is a dimensional invasion. It's complicated to explain, but basically, a bunch of goddamn gods are going to ruin everything. Fuck, the penalty! Ah, goddammit, Altania noticed me because of you, you asshole!
"Who the hell is Altania?!"
> Just... someone. She's the Dragon Princess, and she's the most batshit crazy of the 12 Dragon Emperors.
The black cursor blinked rapidly for a moment before spitting out more text.
> It looks like the fairy from the Dimensional Migration Bureau has noticed me too. I'm running out of time. Anyway, I've done everything I can for you. Past me, live well. And go get laid.
"You fucking spoiler-spouting prick. I would have actually enjoyed this if you hadn't told me the world was ending."
> Don't be like that. I genuinely want you to be happy. And if, by some miracle... No, never mind. If you're really me, you'll make the right choice. I'm not worried. You are me, so I know you'll do great. I've sealed most of your memories for now, but they'll gradually unlock. Don't get confused. They are memories of things you have experienced, yet haven't experienced yet. You are you, and I just want you to be happy. I'm sorry. And hang in there, me.
A barrage of spoilers flooded the screen—stories of the past and future, along with methods for my survival. The spacebar seemed to be held down continuously as the text rapidly scrolled away, leaving behind a middle finger emoji as if to mock me before completely vanishing.
> I won't... tell you to suffer... to save the world... Do whatever... you want... This is... the end... Just survive...
With that, the black cursor vanished entirely. The dark screen flickered, and my computer returned to normal. And then, a fairy materialized right before my eyes.
From my newly unlocked memories, I recognized her. It was Emilya, a female fairy with black wings—a servant of the gods and a pitiful, fallen goddess.
"As a penalty, the match will begin in three months. Prepare yourself. Those who know you have not forgotten. You will receive countless invitations."
"Three months? There won't even be any Second Awakened by then! Are you fucking telling me to die or what?" A counter floated in my field of vision like a status window. It seemed I had to prepare for the apocalypse rather than just getting laid.
Time remaining until the match begins. Prepare for the Apocalypse.