Returning to Reality

I-I'm gonna die! If this keeps up, she's definitely going to kill me! I need to get out of here right now!

Han Gyeowool slowly pushed herself upright, still smeared with semen. A thick vein stood out across her forehead ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beneath that frigid stare. As if she hadn't just been panting and tangled up with me herself — now she was glaring like she wanted me dead.

I frantically chanted the command in my head.

E-Education end! Education over! Get me out of here, now!

The response was instantaneous. The world before my eyes lurched, then everything began to warp and melt like wet paint. Her form crumbled bit by bit, and my consciousness was sucked down into a bottomless abyss.

When I came to again—

"...Hah. Hah. Hah."

My familiar studio apartment greeted me.

I was back in reality.

A glance at the clock told me roughly two hours had passed. There seemed to be a considerable time difference between the virtual world and the real one.

I looked around with hazy eyes. The shabby scenery of my studio apartment confirmed this was the real world — and maybe that was why the memories of what had just happened felt even more like a dream.

Who would have thought I'd end up swapping spit and sharing lust with that vicious Han Gyeowool? Those electrifying moments kept replaying through my mind like a panorama.

That... really wasn't a dream, right?

A hollow laugh slipped out of me. Just yesterday my life had been completely ordinary. In a single day, everything felt turned upside down.

I picked up the phone from my bedside and launched the Parent Management App — the origin of this entire mess. As if to prove it hadn't been a dream, several messages floated up on the screen.

"...Mind Link?"

The moment I tilted my head and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠muttered it aloud, a peculiar interface suddenly appeared at the edge of my vision. Amazingly, Han Gyeowool's figure was playing on the other side of that screen in real time.

I wasn't even surprised anymore. When you could hop between dimensions at will, a hologram like this was nothing.

I focused on the display, taking it in stride.

Hmm. So she woke up at the same time I did?

She was perched on the edge of a luxurious bed, gulping down cold water. Over what looked like a silk slip nightgown, she wore a pink robe — and even so, that dizzying figure of hers lost none of its presence.

Damn. So I really bit and sucked on that insane body, huh?

Even thinking about it again, I still couldn't believe it. I was staring blankly at her figure when—

—Biiiiiing!

A sharp ringing suddenly filled my ears. A high-frequency noise scrambled through my skull, and before long, someone's voice began to come through.

The voice belonged to none other than Han Gyeowool. Her innermost thoughts were streaming into my ears in real time.

So this is Mind Link?

The ringing had already settled, and her voice now rang out clearly and pleasantly. That haughty, sultry way of speaking even stirred a strange sense of familiarity.

"......"

Her private thoughts flew straight at me and carved into my chest like a dagger. I'd always known she looked down on me, but I never imagined it went this far. Hearing it with my own two ears left me thoroughly bitter.

I was a Canadian-educated trilingual, for what it was worth. Calling me a hollow husk with zero ability felt a little harsh.

Just as that quiet resentment started to build, Han Gyeowool's voice came through again.

She touched her own lips, sinking into the memory. A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strange hunger glittered in her eyes, and her lips shone wet and inviting with saliva. She smacked her lips several times, as if replaying that fierce kiss with me.

And then, astonishingly, she lifted one hand and gently cupped her own breast — squeezing it roughly the way I had, even rolling her nipple between her fingers and giving it a light tug.

But the touch didn't last long. She suddenly let out a deep sigh and shook her head hard.

Her cheeks had flushed red like a young girl's. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger, sinking deep into thought.

She continued her quiet recollection, and at some point her hand slipped down to lightly stroke her own sex. She and her husband must have slept in separate rooms — she was alone in the bedroom.

As if soothing her own crushed pride, she spread her folds and roughly stroked inside. Legs splayed obscenely, Han Gyeowool sank into masturbation — and ridiculously enough, she was trembling with pleasure while reliving the most humiliating moment of her life.

How long did she moan like that? At some point her toes curled and began to twitch and spasm. Her heated breathing signaled the approach of climax. At last, love juices welled up and spilled from her pink flesh. Her back arched like a drawn bow under the rapture of it — then her strength gave out and she collapsed back onto the bed, gasping roughly as she savored the afterglow.

At the same time, a deep shame at her own lewd act washed over her.

She scolded herself and swept her disheveled hair back once. Then she closed her eyes and began to steady her breathing.

She was purging every impure feeling as if hypnotizing herself. Then her usual cold, impassive expression returned, and she set about cleaning up the scene — harsh with herself to an almost compulsive degree.

I'd vaguely assumed she'd succeeded just because she was born with a silver spoon. Looking at that ruthless inner self, I could feel how wrong I'd been. That vicious stubbornness that made success inevitable. Her sharp, thorough nature had, pitifully, swallowed even her own emotions whole.

With a face that looked somehow lonely, she opened the bathroom door. Around then, I ended the Mind Link.

The next morning.

I finished a simple breakfast and got ready for work. Big things may have happened yesterday, but I still had to show up. The director — that old hag — would throw a fit over even a few minutes of lateness.

I put on neat clothes and was about to step out the front door of my studio when my phone suddenly rang.

Speak of the devil. It was that damn director.

I quickly cleared my throat and answered in the most energetic voice I could manage. The director was a big believer in grit, and she especially piled on the lectures whenever your voice sounded weak.

"Yes, ma'am! Director! Good morning!"

I offered the greeting with perfect deference — and of course, what came back was that irritating tongue-click.

...Fucking bitch. You're the one who told me to speak up louder.

Of course I wasn't brave enough to say that out loud. I immediately forced out a hollow laugh and changed the subject.

"Haha. I've got to give our director plenty of bright energy, don't I? More importantly — what did you need, ma'am?"

"...Excuse me? What do you mean, mistake?"

Madam Han was how the director referred to Han Gyeowool. At those words, a bad feeling crawled up my spine for some reason.

Of course a bad feeling never misses. I wiped the cold sweat beading on my forehead and hurriedly pressed the director.

"L-Lia's French lessons are co-taught with Teacher Ju, aren't they? There's no reason she'd call only me in separately. Did she say anything else?"

A sharp bark came back through the receiver at once.

"...Y-Yes, ma'am."

Under the director's firm order, all I could do was hang my head. Something enormous was coming — a storm on the horizon.