Chapter 87
They were the kind of women who could easily make it big as celebrities, and plenty had actually tried their luck in the entertainment industry before washing up there. Those girls didn't come cheap. The base rate was a million won, usually running two or three hundred thousand more. You had to drop several million just for one go. A-grades or special A-grades went for ten million and up. And get this—some of Korea's top popular actresses had come straight out of those elite lounges.
They'd provided sexual favors there until some tycoon or businessman spotted them, took them under his wing with sponsorship, and launched them to stardom. Hanyaseong was stunned when he heard their names. These were women with spotless reputations, never a whiff of scandal. Yet they hailed from those lounges. There really wasn't a woman you could trust.
The male server had been working there for over ten years and knew all the dirt. He said it made you envious as hell—those upper-class folks had no choice but to claw their way up. You'd lose your mind seeing beauties that could make your eyes pop serving you sexually. Foreigners came often too. Japanese businessmen dropped by every year for some fun. Korean stunners pouring drinks and offering their bodies to Japanese execs, getting paid handsomely in return. Of course, it was Korean businessmen who brought them over.
And those same Korean execs got the same treatment in Japan—visiting Japanese lounges and bedding Japanese beauties. They just passed each other around like that. Lately, Chinese billionaires had been showing up regularly for the same. The lounge girls spread their legs for Korean, Japanese, or Chinese guys without discrimination, while Korea's elite leisurely enjoyed pounding Korean, Japanese, or Chinese women alike.
Government bigwigs did it too. While the public spat venom at each other, the elite just kept devouring one another's beauties. Crap like anti-Japanese sentiment, Korea-hate, or Northeast Project nonsense? Laughable to them. It had zero impact on the elites of each nation. Hearing all this felt like a tale from another world. Hanyaseong realized he'd been living a lie until now.
The upper class's realm was dazzling and absolute. Even in war, the elite survived. They regrouped and dominated the people again. Only the fools who grabbed rifles to "defend the nation" ended up dying. When some guy dodged the draft and the public raged, the elite loved it. Another dog to guard them had been born.
Just like the yangban nobles of old Joseon, where a tiny few ruled the masses, today's world was the same—a handful of elite lording over tens of millions. That was the revelation dawning on Hanyaseong. He finally grasped the true power of the upper class. No matter how much the masses cursed them, the elite didn't budge. They only grew stronger, tightening their grip. Cursing the yangban didn't erase them, and cursing the elite wouldn't either. They just amassed more and indulged endlessly.
So Hanyaseong made his resolve. He would become elite and bed a thousand beauties. Anything less wouldn't salvage his pride as a man. Those elite bastards did it, and now he wanted in. He'd been clueless before. He thought they were just rich, but no—they were kings. Like ancient kings picking palace girls to fuck, the elite selected the prettiest Korean, Japanese, and Chinese women to ravage.
Those with branches in Europe fucked pretty European girls too. The elite could do anything in this world. That's when Hanyaseong truly understood their power. They could fuck any beauty on the planet. Your average guy couldn't land one pretty blonde, but to the elite, blondes were mere snacks. Russian clubs or Northern European spots—all offered that kind of high-end service.
Hanyaseong's dreams swelled. He'd become elite and roam the world, bedding beauties everywhere. But right now, he didn't even have one girl, which was downright pathetic. He had no choice but to grow stronger fast and ascend. He wanted to check out one of those elite lounges someday. You could have all sorts of beauties there.
"Yeah, a man has to fuck thousands of women in this life!"
Hanyaseong clenched his fist tight. That became his motivation. Ancient kings toyed with hundreds or thousands of beauties. Chinese emperors had tens of thousands. Modern elites across nations did the same. In terms of indulgence, they were no different from kings. Even some Japanese porn actor claimed over five thousand AV actresses in a decade of work. Guys like that existed.
It fueled his rage and drive. There were tens of millions of beauties in the world. If he couldn't claim even a thousand, he didn't deserve to live. Hanyaseong wanted to experience diverse beauties to build his self-worth. With this world's absolute foundation, hard work might make it possible. For that dream, he trained diligently in lonely isolation today.
"Hey, time to eat."
The rice in the pot was done, so he called Yadoong-i. Dinner was three-part curry tonight. Yadoong-i sauntered into the lodge and plopped down by the pot. Hanyaseong scooped rice into a bowl and ladled curry over it. Yadoong-i had turned fully omnivorous now, devouring anything. He blew on the hot rice and curry, eating heartily. Hanyaseong ate too, gazing outside.
The path walked by the precious few elite. It was worth experiencing at least once. He'd gladly dedicate his life to it. No more living as a herbivore. He hated mediocrity and being ruled by the elite. He wanted to be a true noble. To do what the elite did. To live that glamorous, absolute life of the elite—unknown to the masses, enjoyed by the tiniest fraction. A massive ambition surged and writhed fiercely in Hanyaseong's chest.
Whoosh!
After dinner, he built a big bonfire in the shrine clearing and practiced with his wooden sword. He'd studied various sword manuals and classic techniques from the internet, adapting them freely. No rigid forms—he preferred the freewheeling style of wielding it two-handed.
Swish! Swish! The wooden sword cut the air. This built his wrist strength far beyond before. His arms had hardened, muscles sharpening. He wasn't fully ripped yet, but he already had the solid build of an athlete. If Senior Choi Yujin saw him later, her pussy would gush.
For that, Hanyaseong trained hard today. Everything was to become elite and conquer women. To prove to others—and himself—he was no longer an ordinary, pathetic man.
Swish! Swish! Whoosh!
He shuffled his feet, swinging the wooden sword. Still clumsy, but with a real blade, he felt confident facing ferocious beasts. He'd looked into buying a real sword online, but it was tricky. Blades required permits. He considered hitting up a gun shop for unregistered ones.
A crossbow alone wouldn't cut it for leaving this forest into deadlier territories. He needed a sharp real sword. As Hanyaseong sweated through wooden sword drills, Yadoong-i darted along dark mountain paths, testing front-paw strikes. He growled, baring fangs, preparing for attacks—like dreaming revenge for the long scar on his belly. His eyes burned fierce.
Thus, Hanyaseong and Yadoong-i grew stronger day by day.
The next morning, Hanyaseong entered the portal again. Yadoong-i stayed by the shrine before heading back to the lodge. Arriving in this world via portal, it was 9 p.m. He'd stayed about two hours—twelve days over there.
He showered first, then headed to a restaurant. Gym time meant fueling up. He scarfed a bowl of bean sprout soup and took the subway to Apgujeong. After the trainer nagged during daytime, he'd switched to nights for the past three weeks straight. Back at 9 p.m., shower, eat, hit the gym by 11 p.m.
The night gym buzzed with people, mostly young guys and gals. Tall, handsome men and slim beauties popped up occasionally. But like anywhere, not everyone was a stunner—just the standouts. No celebrities yet.
Hanyaseong changed into gym clothes in the locker room and emerged. About forty people pumped iron amid blaring music. Women mostly on treadmills, men on machines building muscle. He stretched lightly and claimed an open machine. His improved body let him up the weights lately.