The Bridesmaid's Rebellion (Yu-ri vs. Min-a, Part 1)
There had never been any mercy atop the Black Room's ring.
And now it had evolved into a realm of violent voyeurism that laid bare every inch of the women's bodies—the faint peach fuzz on their skin, the crushing weight of breasts under pressure, even the folds of the pussies Jin-hyuk had so desperately craved—right down to the anxiety and arrogance swimming in their pupils.
At last came the introduction of Black Room Live: a colosseum of desire that broadcast the Seongtu matches unfolding inside the Black Room in real time. High-resolution cameras ringed the octagon without a single gap, primed to beam the arena's heat live across the entire world.
In the spectator seats, Se-ah and Lu Yuyen sat side by side. Jin-hyuk had slipped away from the gazes of his two bitches and claimed the monitor room for himself. He lounged on the sofa, chin propped on interlaced fingers, eyes fixed on the screens.
On the right side of the monitor floated the profiles of the combatants who had yet to appear in the ring. Beside them, betting totals refreshed at a manic pace while the dopamine-soaked chat of the VVIPs poured down like a waterfall.
Looking down on the curiosity and vulgar lust of the males flooding the screen, Jin-hyuk smiled in satisfaction.
Just then the monitor room door opened and Se-ryeong approached. Still expressionless, she poured wine into the glass on the table and handed it to Jin-hyuk.
"How's the live feed?"
When Jin-hyuk asked, Se-ryeong bowed her head respectfully.
"Flawless transmission with zero lag, sir."
"Over ten thousand pieces of trash are logged in at once. Security's solid, right? I can already see some worms flapping their mouths about hacking."
"Rest easy. Avalon's security net is completely impenetrable. These people already submitted nude verification just to receive an insider's invitation."
Se-ryeong added in a dry, unwavering voice:
"Should anyone attempt foolishness, our enforcement team will track and handle them immediately."
"Good. The ones with more to lose need their leashes gripped that much tighter."
Jin-hyuk wet his lips with the wine and returned his gaze to the monitors.
In one of the two waiting rooms facing each other across the octagon—the red camp—Choi Min-a showed not the slightest trace of fear in her eyes.
Standing completely naked before the full-length mirror, Min-a wore a languid smile as she ran her hands over her own body. Smooth ivory skin. Her chic mint-colored bob, faintly damp with sweat, swayed with each movement.
Her slender fingers glided past her narrow waist and gently stroked the thighs her future husband had ravaged like a madman every night. Firm muscle and soft flesh in perfect harmony—a body built to drive males insane with lust.
Her mind was filled with nothing but the vision of the pure white wedding dress she would wear at the ceremony one month from now.
Once today is over, I'll be reborn as the most radiant bride.
In the very instant she was certain of that perfect future, a familiar face suddenly overlaid itself on the mirror.
Seo Yu-ri.
The opponent she had to trample into ruin—and the woman who had once been her closest friend in the world.
Back in university, the idiotically kind girl who, despite surviving on convenience-store discarded lunch boxes, had paid half of Min-a's tuition.
When Min-a had been scraping the bottom after failing to land a job and getting dumped by her ex, it was Yu-ri who stayed up all night pouring soju and keeping her company.
The Jeju trip they scraped together from money they didn't have. The summer nights spent laughing under a broken air conditioner in a shabby guesthouse, sweat pouring off them both.
"……It's all worthless now."
A thin thread of guilt tightened around Min-a's throat. She was still human, after all. But she soon let out a short, scornful laugh.
"Stupid bitch. I'm never living like that."
Yu-ri's tearful seven-year devotion to her boyfriend had never been noble sacrifice. In the end the woman who had her man stolen right out from under her was, to Min-a, pathetic and disgusting.
You should never have smiled so happily in front of me.
Min-a turned to the mirror and offered it her most seductive, cruel smile.
Today, on that ring, she would crush that squalid past and those pitiful memories down to the bone.
At the same moment, in the black-camp waiting room on the opposite side of the octagon.
Seo Yu-ri did not look in the mirror. She could not.
The moment she saw the body reflected there, she felt she would be crushed under the misery of the years already lived.
She leaned her bare back against the cold wall and stared into empty air. Inside those hollow pupils, emptiness and a malevolent will to destroy everything coexisted in grotesque harmony.
Seven years. Those fucking, curse-worthy seven years.
Her boyfriend Su-han's monthly goshiwon rent, the outrageously expensive academy fees, even that bastard's food money. Yu-ri had carved out the brightest years of her twenties and offered them up to that man. The night she received the call that Su-han had finally passed the bar exam, she had clung to Min-a and sobbed her heart out in that tiny studio. Those memories had now become nothing but a hideous nightmare.
Yu-ri slowly lowered her head and looked at her own hands. Calloused, rough palms and thickened finger joints earned from hanging on pilates machines ten hours a day correcting other people's bodies. Scars she had once believed were medals of love. Now they looked like nothing more than a slave's brand.
Her cold gaze traveled down to her healthy lower body. Flesh she had sculpted and dedicated for the sake of one man alone. She had refined and trained it further simply because he wanted it.
But the man who had been her only sanctuary would by now have his face buried between the smooth thighs of Choi Min-a, the friend she had trusted and cherished most.
"……How could you two do this."
Yu-ri clenched her teeth. Her nails dug into her own thigh flesh until beads of blood welled up.
Today, on that ring, she would completely snap those pretty legs of that hateful bitch. Swallowing blood, Yu-ri swore it.
Then Se-ryeong's voice tore through the silence of both waiting rooms.
Both combatants, enter the octagon.
Two females walked out onto the ring.
Their bodies formed an extreme contrast and yet resembled each other with uncanny perfection.
Heights over 170 cm, explosively swaying E-cup breasts, and above all those thighs trained to the absolute limit—fetish fuel ready to burst. The two women were perfect twins forged by one man's taste. The only differences: Yu-ri carried the healthy glow of sun-bronzed skin, while Min-a possessed a pliant, pale, refined body.
At the center of the ring the two women finally stood face to face.
"Min-a…… don't you have anything to say to me?"
A faint remnant of attachment lingered in Yu-ri's voice. Min-a, by contrast, showed not a single tremor.
Still playing the good girl, even here. You've always been like this. Unnie gets everything—character, a respectable job, a man to devote herself to. Why am I supposed to stand off to the side clapping like a bridesmaid?
The inferiority complex Min-a had secretly nursed toward Yu-ri. That tiny seed of jealousy had grown until it brought them to this day.
"Hey, Seo Yu-ri."
With every step Min-a took, her swaying ivory breasts filled Yu-ri's vision in a deliberate insult.
"You know what Oppa said every time he held me? He said you were too stiff. He was sick of it."
At Min-a's cruel provocation Yu-ri's face flushed crimson.
The last slender thread of affection she had been clinging to finally burned to ash and scattered.
"Drop the saint act and face reality."
Min-a stroked her own smooth thighs in a blatantly seductive display and spat her venom.
"Oppa is mine now. We've already booked the wedding hall. Soon he'll be walking in standing right next to me."
"Choi Min-a! You……!"
The two women were now fully prepared to smash and tear each other apart.
Se-ryeong's announcing voice rang out like a death sentence.
Black Camp. Seo Yu-ri. Age 26. Height 171 cm, weight 58 kg. Three sizes 36-24-38.
Red Camp. Choi Min-a. Age 25. Height 173 cm, weight 54 kg. Three sizes 36-23-36.
The tension stretched taut. In the monitor room, at the exact moment Jin-hyuk swallowed a mouthful of champagne—
The two women charged toward each other.