Erosion
The moment our eyes met again, I couldn't figure out what to say first.
"...Master...♡"
"...You..."
Should I start with the resentment that my friend died because of her? Or the sexual desire boiling up from deep inside me? It didn't matter what came out of me. She looked ready to accept anything.
My hand gently caressed Isabel's pale skin as she silently twisted her hips, coquettishly begging without a word. Her flesh was soft, slightly salty from sweat, and carried a faint, elegant scent. While I was choosing the right words for her now that she'd regained consciousness—for the woman who now belonged to me—a soft touch identical to Isabel's brushed up my chest from behind. Plump breasts pressed against my back.
"What the..."
"Master, it's okay... Resent me as much as you want. Pour everything into me...♡"
I turned around at the voice that had appeared without any presence. Isabel was standing there. Any rationalization that it might be a hallucination shattered instantly at her husky tone.
When I looked forward again, unable to process the situation, there was Isabel with those empty eyes, still clenching her pussy tightly around my cock. Her legs spread in an 'I' shape stood straight, and the pussy wriggling like an automatic onahole undoubtedly belonged to a living being. Then the Isabel behind me was...
"...Hmm? Ah, this must be the first time Master is seeing my clone directly. I startled you..."
It was Isabel's clone, possessing a skill similar to astral projection. It looked identical to her main body, replicating even her body temperature and scent with eerie precision. Another Isabel, created by separating her consciousness and leaving her physical form as an empty shell, rubbed her breasts against my back.
"I'm confident in my stamina. Even if this body's energy runs out, you can just violate 'this me.' So... please use me, your Saintess, until your anger subsides...♡"
"...You fucking perverted bitches."
Her cheeks flushed red as she slipped my forearm between her breasts. The pride Isabel once held had been completely offered up. The woman who had openly despised me at the cafe, who hated the men who possessed masks, who loathed the women turned into Saintesses—that ironclad spirit had become a Saintess. I decided to fulfill her wish: opening the fortress gates of her soul to welcome her Master.
Thwack! Squelch! Schlop—!
"Nnghhooook?! Hiiit...! M-Master, from the start...!♡ So violently...!"
"Haaek, nnghk, hiiyang...♡"
The two identical voices overlapped in my ears as I mercilessly pounded her slick, melting pussy. One came from the body reacting honestly to the pleasure while unconscious, the other from the clone clinging tightly to me, sharing that same ecstasy.
The wet slapping sounds grew faster, louder, and with each thrust, the arms wrapped around me from behind tightened their grip. When I flexed my cock and stirred the deepest, upper part inside her—
"Oohh?!♡"
"Hngh?! M-Master...! There..."
Her fingers trembled on my chest as she let out an adorable moan. I used her physical body like an onahole while the clone leaned against my back, her legs too weak to stand. Even without consciousness, the Saintess's instinct to milk semen from the cock buried inside her remained intact. Every time I pulled out and slammed back in, her body would stiffen its legs and squirt thick love juices, which I pinned beneath me.
"Hoook, huooook?!♡"
"Aah...♡ Treating my body so roughly... That's right, I'm yours, Master. Use me however you want... Ngh?!♡"
I suddenly grabbed the mouth of the Isabel who had been watching her own body being ravished with an expression of pure ecstasy.
"Stop flapping those lips and serve me too."
"Mmph... Y-Yes, Maashter...♡"
The clone approached while her real body lay pinned beneath me, getting fucked. She parted her lips slightly, her tongue—sweet with the scent of fruit—licking up my chest. She took one of my hands and placed it on her breast. The overwhelming softness that filled and spilled from my palm, the pleasant texture. And the sticky, slightly rough sensation of her tongue on my chest sent shivers down my spine.
Beneath my gaze, silver hair carrying the fragrance of ripe fruit and jade-green eyes stared back at me. The warm sunlight-like kindness I'd seen when I first met the woman named Isabel had long vanished into shadow. She had become nothing but a female wagging her tail, craving pleasure for the sake of feeling good.
I ran my hand through her smooth hair, pulled her head close, and kissed her.
"Chuuup... Slurp...♡"
"Nnghiit, oohooook!!♡"
Warm and soft, her tongue trembled slightly against mine, and the real Isabel's body convulsed beneath us. Almost at the same moment, I could no longer hold back the climax that had been building and unleashed it all.
Inside Isabel, into her womb melted soft by pleasure, her pussy sucking on my urethra like a straw—I emptied everything. The semen was so thick it felt like clumps, soaking into the motel floor. Both the Isabel kissing me and her physical body twitched violently.
The bodies and minds of man and woman reaching climax together. The chains of this pleasure that seemed like they would never break finally ended when I regained my senses first.
"...Haa... M-Master..."
"...Haa, haa..."
"You still look unsatisfied... Shall we continue...?♡"
".......♡"
Even though she should have been unconscious, Isabel's body moved on its own, gently rubbing my cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Another Isabel whispered hot breath into my ear with a rough voice while her soft white hand wrapped around my glans. Two pairs of emerald eyes gazed at me with expectation. Their crotches warmed by the filthy fluids.
We continued like that, filling both wombs with semen without noticing the passage of time, until Noa, who had finally regained her senses, pulled us apart. Only then could I recover my reason.
"I know I'm repeating myself, but seriously,"
"I'm sorry..."
"I feel terrible about it."
"......"
The two naked women knelt before me, bowing their heads. Their contrasting black and silver hair brushed against my feet.
"Saying this now might sound like an excuse, but I truly mean it. Even if I hadn't become your Saintess, I intended to take responsibility for that death."
"...Wait, if only you say that, Unnie, what does that make me?"
"....."
Did Noa feel guilt over Jaehyeok's death because she had become a Saintess, because she had become an existence that put her Master above all else? I didn't know the human named Kwon Noa well, but I understood one thing clearly: she valued herself above everything. Before becoming a Saintess, she probably believed she bore no responsibility for Jaehyeok's death.
A sincere human apology, and the apology only possible after becoming a Saintess. Just as I thought. None of it reached me.
What good was receiving an apology? The ones who should receive it weren't me, but Jaehyeok and his remaining family. All I had done was vent the sadness and rage of losing a childhood friend through them. I no longer had any business with these two.
There was just one last thing I had to do.
"...There's only four hours left until midnight. Isn't it about time you reported back to your headquarters?"
"Y-Yes! There's still plenty of time to revise the report! So Master, please don't worry and..."
"No. Report it exactly as it happened."
"...Pardon?"
I lit a cigarette while looking down at Noa, who tilted her head as if she hadn't heard correctly.
"Report everything as it is. That I'm the owner of the mask, and that Jaehyeok died because of your mistake."
"B-But then you'll become a primary target for the Task Force! It would create a dangerous situation where agents like us could storm in at any moment!"
"I don't care."
This was the only way for Jaehyeok's family to find any comfort through these two. Even if I couldn't tell them everything, the fact that these women would be punished as the true culprits who killed Jaehyeok. I thought that would be the consolation I could offer his parents, who had treated me like their own son.
Of course, as Noa said, I would be in danger. According to them, the Special Phenomenon Countermeasures Department, which had figured out how to identify Saintesses, would soon realize. That the two agents entrusted with mask retrieval had returned as Saintesses, and that the man named Choi Woo-joo was the mask's owner.
The next people who came for me after Noa and Isabel might draw their guns the moment they saw me. But I was prepared to accept even that.
The man who picked up the mask and crossed the lifeline dies shortly after.
If that was true, then having survived past five days meant it wouldn't be strange if I suddenly turned into a dried-up mummy. If I was going to die anyway, I'd go out kicking and screaming until the end.
This never would have happened if those bastards had managed the masks properly in the first place. I wouldn't have had to tremble in fear of the death that would eventually come, and Jaehyeok would have lived an ordinary life. Dating the girlfriend he wanted, graduating college, getting a job, marrying, having kids—the normal life of an ordinary man.
The ones who ruined everything were those bastards from the Special Phenomenon Countermeasures Department. I would become their biggest problem, not some easy, convenient issue they could handle simply.
"...It's my problem to handle, so you two just take your punishment. And if you have time, apologize to Jaehyeok's family."
"But Master...!"
Noa, breaking out in cold sweat as she defied the order, suddenly grabbed my ankle. Was she still worried about her own safety even now? No, she was probably worried about me. A Saintess was supposed to offer everything to her Master. But that concern for me was an artificial emotion. If it had been the original Noa, would she have cared if I died? Probably not.
I placed the cigarette I was smoking in the ashtray and put my hand on Noa's head, about to issue a forced command, when—
"I'd like you to reconsider. This isn't something I should say, but Master, you're being hasty right now."
"...What?"
Isabel spoke.
"Let's say we report everything that happened exactly as you command. Noa and I will receive disciplinary action. But in the process, they'll discover we were turned into Saintesses, and the organization will execute us on the spot without question. And after that? A kill order will be issued for you as well, and veterans with far more experience than us will come."
"......."
"Anomalous properties have been confirmed, and you're the one who turned the two previously dispatched agents into Saintesses. The odds are very high that the organization will show no mercy. Listen, I killed your friend. The people who come for you next might take more than just your life."
Isabel calmly tried to persuade me. She was right. If I cooled my head and thought rationally, it was obvious. I had forgotten the simple truth that if I became dangerous, the people around me would be in danger too. As proof, Jaehyeok had died when they came for me. If my identity as the mask's owner became known through their report, the next agents sent by the organization might harm not just me, but the people around me.
This time, it could be Sister Haemi. It could be Go-eun. It could be my mother or father.
"...I'm sorry. I was so angry I didn't think about the consequences."
"I understand. It's all our fault. You did nothing wrong, Master."
"Y-Yeah! If it's what you want, Master, I'll accept any punishment! But I oppose anything that puts you in danger!"
Isabel kept her head bowed with a serious expression, while Noa desperately chimed in.
"Fine. Then what do you suggest? If we're going to hide that I'm the mask's owner, we'll have to fabricate a story that never happened."
"That's true. First, we need to create a narrative that perfectly matches the evidence we have. About Park Jaehyeok's death... the administration of the memory-erasure drug, the mask's owner and its whereabouts... there are many things to consider."
"That's easy."
"Huh?"
"Yes?"
Both Noa and I turned our gazes to Isabel. She looked back and forth between us before calmly adding,
"The Park Jaehyeok we killed wasn't a civilian, but the mask's owner. And we are the Saintesses he created. With that scenario, it's simple."
"...Unnie, watch your words..."
"I'm sorry to you, Master, but this is the only way for you to avoid suspicion. The owner named Park Jaehyeok died, but due to anomalous properties, we two Saintesses survived and chose to commit suicide. End of story. Additionally, report that the mask, having lost its owner, exhibited the anomalous property of moving to a nearby man. Then you'll be safe."
"...Wait, doesn't that mean the two of us have to die?!"
"Obviously. Why? Noa, do you lack the resolve to die for your Master?"
"N-No, that's not it?! It's too sudden! Even dying requires mental preparation!!"
I was a little surprised that Isabel could say something like sacrificing themselves so calmly, as if it were nothing. I was also surprised by her mental strength in maintaining her original overflowing sense of responsibility even after becoming a Saintess. Certainly, if we followed her suggestion, I could safely avoid the organization's suspicion. The two people left as evidence would have taken their own lives, and the mask's disappearance could be explained as an anomalous property.
Still, even though Isabel had thoughtfully come up with this, I wasn't drawn to the idea. The plan was fundamentally built on using Jaehyeok's death, and above all, it meant deciding the fate of these two with my command. Using my already dead friend and two living people felt repulsive. Even if it was a clear solution, my heart wouldn't be at ease afterward.
I sighed, looking at the considerably flustered Noa and the still-calm Isabel, who was being shaken by the shoulders, when—
"If you're so quick at scheming, think of something else too—!!"
"There is nothing else. What we must consider is Master's safety—"
"....What the hell? Why did you both suddenly stop?"
The two who had been arguing froze. As if someone had pressed the pause button on a video, they stopped in their natural poses. I called out to the unnaturally frozen pair, stood up, and approached.
".............."
".............."
Their expressions and postures remained, but they were frozen solid as if encased in ice.
"...What is this?"
I glanced at the clock for no particular reason. The hour and minute hands ticked along normally. Looking out the window, I could see office workers starting their early commutes and cars speeding down the road. The only things stopped were the two people in the room—Noa and Isabel.
What the hell was going on...?
I scratched my head and was grinding the filter of my cigarette into the ashtray when—
Ding-dong—
The doorbell rang.
What now? Was it Mom again? Without thinking, I walked over and opened the firmly closed door. The person standing there wasn't my mother, but a woman I'd never seen before.
Heavy makeup like a bar hostess, short shorts, a crop top, and a black tattoo on her hip near her navel. She didn't look kind even as a stretch—your typical young prostitute. The woman glanced at my bare torso and waved the hand holding her phone.
"You're the one who called, right? Hello, I'm Dasom~"
"...Excuse me? I think there's been a misunderstanding..."
"Huh? No? This is the right place. Room 402."
The woman who introduced herself as Dasom turned on her phone screen and showed me a message. The address 'Miss Hotel 402' was written in the text sent by someone saved as 'Manager.'
It was definitely this motel and this room number, but... she was actually a prostitute? Why would a woman like this come to me...?
I called her.
"Ugh—?!"
"Hmm? What's wrong? Move aside for now. I'll explain the price inside."
A voice I hadn't heard in a long time, but one I could never forget. No, it sounded like a voice, but it was more like a vibration ringing inside my head, coming from behind me. By the time I turned my head, a mask had already flown past my ear. When I followed the mask flying forward and turned my gaze ahead again, a woman's moan rang out even faster.
"Mmph?! W-What the hell?! Hey, oppa?! Get this off me... Ah—"
"...Hey, you..."
"...Ah, ahem. This woman's body feels lighter than the one I used before. Hehe. Yeah, nice to see you too. It's been a while, hasn't it... How many days has it been?"
The white wooden mask had taken over the face of the young prostitute named Dasom, speaking and moving with her body and voice. The mask that had possessed a woman's body lightly pushed my chest aside and strode into the room.
"Come in. We have things to talk about, don't we?"