Licensed Realtor Yoon Seoyeong, 28 (1)
That afternoon.
Swipe.
Swipe, swipe.
"Haa... damn it."
Jinsu let out a long sigh as he pushed the mop across the floor.
The basement of Geumcheontang.
The spot where the pipe connecting the natural spring reservoir had burst was still a complete mess. He'd shut the valve in a hurry and patched the broken section as a stopgap, but water still pooled across the floor here and there, and the fallen parts and soaked tools lay scattered exactly where they'd dropped.
"How long is it going to take to collect that water again... months, at least."
He'd burned through that precious water in a single day. If his father came back and saw this, he knew exactly what the man would say.
No, wait.
Actually, thinking about it just made him angrier.
"Then maybe you should've left some instructions before running off."
Take good care of the spring water. Only open Locker No. 17 when you're truly desperate.
Who was he to lecture anyone, leaving behind nothing but those two lines before hopping on a plane overseas with some woman?
"You think I broke it on purpose?"
Still grumbling, Jinsu propped the mop against the wall and straightened his back.
Crack.
He twisted his torso from side to side.
"Whew... between yesterday and today's unexpected indulgences, I've really put it through the wringer."
He glanced down at his arm without thinking.
Still thick. His chest too. His shoulders as well.
Even a few days ago, his body hadn't been anywhere near this impressive.
'It really must be that water.'
Jinsu's gaze drifted toward the ruined spring water equipment. At first he'd wondered if it was just his imagination. But now he was certain.
His body had changed.
And...
"Ahem."
Jinsu coughed for no reason at all.
Jung Soojin came to mind. The owner of Garam Fitness, right across the street. When they'd first met, he'd written her off as nothing more than a well-built older woman, but somehow things had ended up...
'...I did it.'
And it hadn't been a one-time thing, either.
The corner of Jinsu's mouth curled up.
"God, I just kept pounding into her without end..."
He'd finished her off, all right.
Soojin's pussy...
"Heh."
He slipped a hand into his pants and gave himself a squeeze.
Squish.
Thick—!
Heavy—!
"Heh heh."
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
"What am I, laughing alone in a basement?"
Jinsu shook his head.
"Is my dick really the priority right now? I need to open the bathhouse to make a living, you idiot."
He was reaching for the mop again when another face flashed abruptly through his mind.
His ex-girlfriend, Han Sejeong.
'I wonder what she's up to these days.'
It had been a few months since the breakup. Given how she looked, chances were good she'd already found some new guy.
No.
'She's probably sleeping her way through half the city.'
Jinsu clicked his tongue. Whoever she dated, whoever she slept with—she was a woman who had nothing to do with him anymore.
"That wicked bitch."
Swipe—!
He shoved the remaining water roughly toward the drain, then gathered the scattered tools and parts into a pile against one wall. After one last look around, Jinsu leaned the mop against the wall.
"Whew..."
With the cleaning done, he climbed back upstairs. The moment he dropped onto the counter chair, fatigue crashed over his whole body.
"Cleaning is harder than sex."
Snorting at his own joke, Jinsu reached out and switched on the TV sitting in the corner.
Beep.
The news came on. A neatly dressed female announcer was delivering the weather report with a perfectly blank expression.
An image of the storm's projected path filled the screen.
Huh. A typhoon, out of nowhere?
Well, did it matter? The bathhouse wasn't even open for business yet anyway.
"Might as well turn in early tonight and get some rest. ...Hm?"
Tucked into the corner beneath the counter sat a small paper bag he'd never seen before. A black shopping bag, its glossy, upscale brand name printed in elegant lettering. Nothing he had ever bought.
"What's this?"
Jinsu opened the bag. Inside was a box of men's briefs.
"Hm?"
A sticky note was attached to the box.
A gift for the promo shoot ♥
Wear these next time.
Saying no is forbidden.
Your noona will be checking personally ♥
"...That has to be Soojin's noona."
A hollow laugh slipped out of him. When had she even snuck this in here?
He opened the box and pulled the briefs out. They were not your average pair of briefs. The sides were cut absurdly short, and the fabric covered far less than it should have. It was the kind of embarrassingly overdesigned thing you'd only see on a male model with a chiseled body posing for a photo shoot.
"And I'm supposed to wear this?"
No matter how he looked at it, this was not everyday underwear. Jinsu held them up against himself for a moment, then laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. Then he folded them neatly again and tucked them back into the shopping bag.
"That noona is genuinely depraved."
Ding-a-ling—
The front door suddenly swung open, and the bell chimed.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
Jinsu looked up.
"Who is it?"
The moment he laid eyes on the visitor, his expression froze in an instant.
Shin Yoora, the redevelopment association member. It was her.
"So? How did it go with what we discussed yesterday?"
"Discussed what, exactly?"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me. That's just petty."
Click, click—her heels tapped against the floor as she strode toward the counter. Once again she was dressed in a business suit that clung to her body like a second skin, its tailored lines tracing every curve of her voluptuous figure. She carried a document folder in one hand, and for some reason a vaguely malicious smile played at the corners of her mouth.
"Are you pretending not to remember on purpose? Because that's no fun."
"What are you talking about?"
"How long are you going to keep this up?"
She rapped her knuckles against the folder.
"The redevelopment consent form. Have you gotten it from your father yet, or not?"
Jinsu leaned back in his chair.
"I haven't been able to reach him yet."
"Can't, or won't?"
"He doesn't pick up the phone. What exactly am I supposed to do about that?"
"That's your problem, Mr. Seo Jinsu, not mine."
"..."
"We've waited as long as we're willing to wait."
Yoora dragged a chair over beside the counter and sat down. Arrogantly. She crossed her slender legs, sheer stockings whispering against each other, and even the simple act of sitting there and looking at him radiated the confidence of a woman certain she held all the cards.
"Mr. Seo Jinsu. Don't tell me you've forgotten about yesterday."
A twitch jumped between Jinsu's brows.
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"Oh? So you're just going to pretend it never happened?"
Yoora smiled sweetly.
"A man walks into the women's bath and stares at a naked woman like a total pervert—and that just... evaporates?"
"Pervert, my ass. I was bringing her a towel and we ran into each other. That's all."
"And who's going to believe that?"
"Excuse me?"
Yoora pulled her phone from her handbag, tapped the screen a few times, then held it out toward him.
"Care to take a look at this?"
"...?"
Jinsu stared at the screen. A draft, saved to the notes app, sat there waiting.
WARNING: Ladies of the neighborhood, watch out. The Geumcheontang owner's son spies on women in the bath.
Jinsu's face went rigid.
"...What exactly are you trying to pull here?"
"I haven't posted it to the neighborhood forum yet."
Yoora's face was shameless.
"I've only written the title so far. What the body ends up saying—that's entirely up to you, Mr. Seo."
She dragged her tongue slowly across her upper lip.
"Let's see... 'I was washing myself in the women's bath when the owner's son snuck in and watched me. Our eyes met while I was completely naked. I was so scared. This place doesn't feel safe for women to use alone...' Something like that."
A cunning smile spread across her face.
"Don't bother planning to reopen. Just sign the redevelopment consent. It's better for everyone that way—wouldn't you agree?"
"..."
Jinsu bit down on his lower lip.
'You fucking bitch.'
So she was going to keep hanging this over him forever, over something that barely even counted as an incident?
"Let's wrap this up cleanly before you become a laughingstock in the neighborhood. For both our sakes."
Yoora slipped the phone back into her handbag and rose from the chair.
"Believe me, I don't enjoy going through this tedious nonsense either."
She drew a single sheet of paper from the folder and set it on the counter.
Tap.
The redevelopment consent form.
"One week. Exactly one."
Yoora held up a single finger.
"You have one week to get your father's consent. Use it well."
"And if I can't?"
Yoora snorted and looked him up and down. Then she tilted her head to one side, a mocking glint in her eyes.
"It's not like I want to ruin anybody. Use your imagination."
"..."
"Oh, right."
Halfway to the door, Yoora turned back around.
"Stock some better towels. The ones here are far too rough. I speak from experience."
The corner of her mouth curled upward.
"Not that you'll be opening the doors anyway."
"..."
"See you in a week, then."
Click. Click.
Her hips swayed left and right beneath the tight pencil skirt. With every step, the snug fabric pulled taut and released, rhythmically flaunting the luscious curve of her ass as she walked away.
Ding-a-ling—
The door closed.
Jinsu's cock was already rock hard.
"She really is an evil woman."
He muttered under his breath as he stared down at the consent form lying on the counter.
"Fucking hell. Fine—have some salt, you demon."
He grabbed the water bottle and was sprinkling a line across the floor by the front door when—
Ding-a-ling.
"Hello there!"
The door swung open.
Shaaaash—!
"Kyaa!"
SPLASH!
"Oh—! I'm so sorry!"
Jinsu bolted to his feet.
A woman he'd never seen before had taken the full force of the water. Late twenties, maybe. Her white shirt soaked through instantly, the line of her bra showing clearly through the fabric, long strands of hair clinging to her cheeks.
She blinked, looked down at her chest and stomach, then lifted her gaze back to Jinsu.
"...What exactly were you doing just now?"
"I—I'm sorry! I was cleaning!"
"N-no, I mean... what kind of cleaning...?"
Jinsu scrambled to hand her a towel, and the two of them exchanged a few words amid the awkwardness.
"I'm Yoon Seoyeong, from Chaegim Real Estate."
"Seo Jinsu."
"I know."
"You know me too?"
"Of course."
She smiled brightly.
"Anyone doing real estate in this neighborhood ought to at least know the Geumcheontang owner's son."
Beneath her soaked white clothes, just enough of a shapely cleavage line showed through to make that smile look all the more radiant.
And there, at the top of the documents she then produced, were the words: 'Letter of Intent to Purchase Geumcheontang.'
"There's someone who wants to buy the Geumcheontang building and the land it sits on."