Miyeon's Irresistible Allure
"Haah... Haah..."
After finishing breakfast, Miyeon went through her usual routine, exercising at Geoseong Heights. But even during her workout, she couldn't help noticing how strangely sensitive her body had become.
(Ahn! Hauk! M-my body...!)
She was just doing her normal run, nothing out of the ordinary. Yet her hypersensitive body sent waves of lewd pleasure rippling through her from head to toe. Simply jogging along the track felt like invisible hands caressing her everywhere. Her breasts tingled with every subtle bounce, sending electric jolts through her core. Her ass grew erotically aroused with each sway of her hips as her legs pumped. Especially her pussy—it clenched rhythmically with every footfall, the impact from pushing off the ground shooting up her thighs like teasing thrusts.
(Urgh! It's just running!)
Despite it being nothing more than everyday exercise, her sensitized body kept her in a constant state of sexual arousal. It was as if her whole body was being pleasured on autopilot.
"Haah... Haah..."
The mounting excitement showed plainly on Miyeon's face and body. Her expression softened into something sultry, her eyes glazed over with hazy focus, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. Her lips parted slightly, exhaling sweet, heated breaths. Her nipples stiffened against her top, making her already prominent breasts stand out even more. Down below, her leggings hid a sticky trail of arousal seeping between her thighs—not sweat, but thick love juices. And as she ran, she unwittingly scattered a sweet, intoxicating fragrance in her wake, bewitching everyone around her.
"Whoa—even just running near Yoo Miyeon fills the air with that delicious scent!"
"Sniff sniff sniff! The air itself tastes sweet!"
"Huuuuh—huuuuh—huuuuh—too good to waste!"
A horde of men trailed after her, jogging en masse along the path. They ogled her twitching ass without shame, huffing and puffing to inhale every trace of air she'd passed through. Miyeon's figure looked even more seductive that day, her aura of temptation drawing them in like moths to a flame.
Normally, Jinseok would have stepped up to ward off the lechers. But after the shock of seeing Miyeon's naked body—and the guilt that followed—he'd been keeping his distance, working out separately. He was desperately trying to erase the image from his mind.
"Hoo."
Finished with her workout, Miyeon gulped water from the fountain and sat on a bench to rest. Even from a distance, men on nearby benches stole glances at her figure. She paid their stares no mind, but they could feel her erotic allure radiating thicker than ever today.
"Heh heh heh. No sign of that psycho siscon 'protector' today, so we can ogle our Miyeon all we want."
"Hee hee hee. She doesn't even flinch when we look. And that guy's always throwing a fit? He's the real pervert."
"Couldn't agree more. Bet he jerks off to his own sister every night."
"Huhu. Living with a tight, bouncy babe like Miyeon? No way his dick survives intact."
"Fuck, look at those tits, that tiny waist, that plump ass bulging under the leggings. Wanna drag her to the bathroom and pound her doggy-style till she breaks."
The men leered openly, spewing vulgar fantasies about her body. In their minds, Miyeon had long been reduced to a fuckdoll impaled on their cocks. But no one dared approach the S-rank hero—her power terrified them.
......
"Yoo Miyeon. Fancy meeting you again. Heh. Want one?"
"Pardon?"
Suddenly, a man approached the resting Miyeon, offering her a canned drink. It was Baek Yeong-gun, the same idol who'd hit on her before.
(What’s with this guy?)
Miyeon eyed him, a strange sensation washing over her. It wasn't attraction—quite the opposite. He repulsed her utterly, his appeal nonexistent to an astonishing degree.
(Like he's not even human... just a scarecrow. And he's supposed to be a celebrity...?)
Last time they'd met, she'd rejected his dinner invite but still registered him as handsome on some level. Now? Nothing. Rationally, she knew he was good-looking. But he felt like a limp, straw-stuffed doll—utterly worthless, devoid of any vitality.
Smoothly—
"Haha! Sorry if I startled you last time. Springing a dinner invite out of nowhere like that. I didn't think about your situation."
Yeong-gun persisted with his advances. Living in the same Geoseong Heights, he figured persistence would pay off eventually. Miyeon accepted the drink but barely registered him sitting beside her—he faded into the background even more than the can.
(Heh heh heh. She's into it this time?)
Confused by her own dulled senses but silent, Miyeon sat there. Yeong-gun mistook it for interest and slyly reached for her ass.
Swish—
But Miyeon stood abruptly, his hand grasping only air. She tossed the can onto the bench like trash and walked away.
(What a hassle.)
Before, she'd politely but firmly rebuffed him. Now, even speaking felt like too much effort. She just left.
"H-hey! Ignoring me like that is too much!"
Yeong-gun, pissed, shouted and closed in. As a popular idol with a massive ego, this blatant dismissal stung.
"Hey! You ignoring me?!"
Whoosh!
"Gah!"
He grabbed her wrist, yelling. Miyeon shot him a look of pure contempt. Though he'd started aggressive, her piercing glare made him flinch and release her.
(What the hell? Scarier than that Serin chick...)
He'd fled from Serin's wrath once before, overwhelmed by her pressure. But Miyeon's was different—like a razor-sharp blade slicing toward him, not a crashing wave.
(This guy's not even worth the effort.)
Miyeon glared a moment longer, flicked her hand dismissively, and turned to leave. From her fingertips flew an invisible Sword Qi, too fast to see.
Slice! Slice!
The Sword Qi from her fingers sliced through Yeong-gun's pants and underwear—perfectly, without nicking his skin. Her precision was unreal. To him, it looked like his clothes exploded on their own.
Thud—
"Wha—what?! What the fuck?!"
His pants and boxers dropped straight to his ankles. A cool breeze hit his bare lower half, and he realized he was fully exposed.
He bent frantically to pull them up, but too late—ass, cock, everything had been on full display.
"Kyaa! Flasher!"
"Th-that's Yeong-gun!"
"Eek! He whipped it out! Dude's insane!"
"N-no! It was an accident! Accident!"
As Yeong-gun fumbled with his ruined pants—torn by the Sword Qi, refusing to stay on—the crowd erupted in chaos. Desperate, he cupped his dick with both hands and bolted in humiliation.
(Hmm. They called him a playboy, but... that's all he's packing?)
Miyeon had glimpsed his dick as the pants fell. Disappointment surged. It was pathetically small, well below average. His fame and looks snagged women, but his tiny prick and premature finishes ruined his bedroom rep.
(A real man would at least be like Kang Cheonhu... Ah, no—what am I thinking...?)
For a split second, Miyeon recalled the cock she'd sensed—and fantasized about—from contact with Kang Cheonhu. Shaking her head, she tried to banish the intrusive thought.