Chapter 25

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Translator: Ebonarch

Chapter: 25

Chapter Title: Seo Na-yeon Harassed by Lecherous Gazes (Third Person) + August Monthly Settlement

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Creak.

The door to the president's office slid open, and Seo Na-yeon stepped out after greeting the boss.

As if nothing had happened.

"Thank you for your hard work, sir."

"Yeah. You get back to work too, Na-yeon."

But to Oh Da-hye, who had vividly heard the beastly grunts echoing from inside the office, Na-yeon's attitude felt utterly shameless.

Oh Da-hye, the accountant, had been severely bullied as a kid, which left her with a reclusive personality. Teased relentlessly about her looks, she'd suffered immense stress, leaving her with low self-esteem and a deep wariness of people.

Surprisingly, the type she despised most weren't men, but other women—especially the delinquent girls like the ones who'd tormented her back then.

Men had mostly ignored her, but those bitches had treated her like an easy plaything, chasing her down to mock and harass her endlessly. Oh Da-hye figured if you took Moon Dong-e from Glue and downgraded her face and body by a solid twelve levels purely on looks, you'd get someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just like her.

To her, Seo Na-yeon, who had joined the company not long ago, was an incredibly irritating presence.

She had a decently pretty face and the kind of body men drooled over—even another woman like Da-hye had to admit Na-yeon's lower half was GOAT-level. Na-yeon was the type who strutted around arrogantly on that alone, triggering every warning signal on Da-hye's delinquent radar. She screamed "bully bitch."

And just like that first impression, Na-yeon turned out to be utterly incompetent. She only had the job because she was the boss's old schoolmate—a thug-turned-businessman. To Da-hye, she was just dead weight occupying a seat through connections, nothing more.

But this morning, Oh Da-hye gained yet another reason to hate her.

'Fucking slut... goddamn crazy bitches.'

The two of them had grown suspiciously close lately. According to Da-hye's big data from years on the job, this was the classic post-fuck glow-up after the boss lured in another female employee.

Fine, whatever. Let them screw in a motel after hours or run a triathlon for all she cared. What did it matter to her?

But these horny beasts... they knew damn well she was right outside, and in that shoddily soundproofed office, they went at it without a shred of shame.

Especially that bitch Seo Na-yeon—she hadn't even bothered trying to muffle her moans. How else could she wail like that so openly?

And then she comes out with "Thank you for your hard work, sir?" Knowing full well Da-hye had heard every moan and slap outside—it was infuriatingly two-faced.

"Hoo..."

Even now, as she straightened her disheveled clothes without so much as glancing her way, it felt outrageously brazen.

'Public nuisance, you fucking slut. Total fucking nuisance...'

But as Kwak Young-cheol had said, there was nothing Oh Da-hye could do about it.

She didn't want to give up her stable job either.

That said... during those rare chats with the other male staff, she could subtly drop hints about what went down in the president's office. Spreading rumors about the "slut"—which were pretty much factual—seemed doable enough...

Serving customers wasn't much work for Seo Na-yeon.

She just had to brew coffee and bring it to the lounge where used-car buyers waited.

The problem was, it wasn't just buyers. Often, "chairman" types—friends of Kwak Young-cheol, mostly connected to his gangster father, Boss Kwak—lounged there like they owned the place, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gossiping endlessly.

"No, so back then..."

"Hey, Miss Seo came out."

"Oh, Miss Seo looks pretty today too."

"Haha... Hello, sirs. You come every day lately?"

"Haha, we come to see you, Miss Seo. What, you don't like it?"

"No, of course not."

A month in, Na-yeon had gotten familiar with these "sirs."

"Here's your coffee."

"Nice. Miss Seo's coffee is always killer. Thanks, Miss Seo!"

"No problem, hehe."

The issue with these "sirs" was:

1. They were actual geezer old men, physically speaking.

2. Being pals with Kwak Young-cheol's dad, the mob boss, most ran shady businesses—booze, girls, loan sharking, that sort of thug life.

Naturally, once she got used to them, their manners went out the window.

As Na-yeon leaned forward just a bit to set down the coffee...

Smooth.

A sleazy hand brushed her inner thigh.

"Oops. Sorry... hand moved on its own, heh."

"Hah! You old perv, save that for bar girls, heh."

"Times are modern, 21st century. Do that old-school sexual harassment and you'll get arrested, kek."

"Sorry, Miss Seo. Here's apology money—won't report me, right?"

"Ah... haha. It's fine... thank you..."

Taking the 50,000-won "allowance" with forced composure, she turned away. Immediately, their whispers carried loud enough to hear.

'No panties, right?'

'Yup. Saw her ass earlier. Pussy wrinkles on full display.'

'Kek. Kwak Young-cheol's messing around again. Can't keep it in his pants.'

"..."

It wasn't pleasant being groped so openly, but Na-yeon shook it off and headed to the office. Passing by, she noticed the staff lounge door ajar again, just like before...

Sure enough, Assistant Manager Kim Cheol-ho and mechanic Mr. Gu were gathered with other male staff, spewing filth about her.

"Heard that slut Na-yeon banging in the boss's office? Man, I was dropping off papers to accounting and caught it live—fucking horny as hell."

Kim Cheol-ho's sleazy voice.

"Fucking hell. Boss Kwak's up to no good again. Saw her earlier, strutting no panties. Knows we can see, huh?"

Mechanic Mr. Gu's gravelly rasp.

"Whatever. Eye candy's free."

"I'd rather grope her myself."

"Like we'd get cuffed for harassment, kek."

"Who knows. Kwak Young-cheol might pull that stunt from last time... Oh, Miss Na-yeon."

She'd been eavesdropping through the crack for a while when quick-eyed Kim Cheol-ho spotted her, awkwardly opening the door with a sheepish grin.

"...Ah... don't mind them."

"You heard? Sorry... we were just chatting and said some rude stuff..."

"...No, it's... whatever."

She realized she had nothing to say.

She was the one wailing shamelessly from the president's office...

And on the boss's orders or not, she'd played along with the no-panties humiliation.

Her face heated up at the thought...

"..."

Then she noticed the men's gazes... dangerous. Crammed in the tight lounge with them, no panties...

"I-I'll head back first. Take your time..."

Belated shame surged; she wanted to crawl into a hole.

'What the hell am I doing?'

Thinking back, she'd been like a puppet in a puppet show... bobbling along not her way, but Kwak Young-cheol's whims, his commands.

Snapping to, even the male staff openly saw her as a dirty slut, a nympho.

In this world... no panties at work? Straight out of trashy ero-novels or shitty porn plots. And she was living it.

She never imagined this treatment when she started. Sure, she'd braced for Kwak Young-cheol's demands... but not like this... like a...

'Sex slave...? Toy?'

Right. Sex toy.

So... what "prank" did Kwak Young-cheol have next for her?

Chill...

Goosebumps prickled from Na-yeon's waist to her nape.

Of course, as Kwak Young-cheol's "pranks" grew bolder, more perverse, more irreversible,

the merits of sticking at the company dwindled for Na-yeon.

No matter how much "allowance" he gave... if it meant escalating abuse as his plaything, sex toy, better to work as a real hooker in an office-tel—less risky.

Na-yeon did get off hard, genuinely pleasured by sex with Kwak Young-cheol.

But her brain wasn't just decoration; she knew this wasn't right.

Yet she couldn't quit easily—family. Honestly, not delinquent Kang Mi-hyun mirroring her past self, but the family's pride, model student son Kang Hyun-seong.

"Son. You wanted academy classes, right? You're senior year now; time to wrap up exam prep."

"Huh? Suddenly?"

"Yeah. Here's the tuition. How much? Million won?"

"...What's this about?"

"Mom's working now."

"Still, accounting gig pays that much...?"

"Mom... it's pricey here... you sure?"

"Of course. Got a nice bonus."

"......"

Not from accounting, of course...

Kwak Young-cheol's "allowances" alone totaled millions already.

Most converted to luxury bags and purses the day received.

Back in the Industrial Revolution, a study found workers splurged most on payday. Barely scraping by otherwise, that meager wage vanished in a burst of pent-up desire.

Idiots? Low education played a part, but mainly, starved of indulgence, payday unleashed suppressed urges.

Seo Na-yeon, pregnant young with twins, over 14 years poor—lifelong financial repression.

Maybe her raging libido stemmed from few outlets beyond sex. Hence the saying:

Dirt-poor son trait: No sex.

Dirt-poor daughter trait: Fucks like crazy.

Point was, millions hit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her hands and fueled urges instantly.

"Wh-what? What'd I spend on?"

Still, about a million left. Before ditzy impulsive mom blew it, she'd use it to boost her son's grades.