Avalon, Colosseum of Desire

In the heart of Gangnam-daero, the skyscraper Avalon towered like a spire.

Above ground, Avalon was a dazzling cathedral of capitalism and a perfect facade. Vegan restaurants, exclusive wellness facilities, and refined luxury boutiques peddled carefully manufactured fantasies, while the sky lounge at the summit gazed arrogantly down upon the world below, flaunting the pinnacle of terrestrial power. Everything existed to conceal the corruption buried beneath.

On the fifth basement floor, after fingerprint and iris scans, a steel door opened onto ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a bizarre, overwhelming lobby where the metallic reek of blood mingled with the fragrance of Dom Pérignon. A massive crystal chandelier poured down an eerie radiance, and genuine masterpieces hanging against crimson velvet walls displayed the naked majesty of fallen capital. Even a world-class five-star hotel would have looked like a shabby motel by comparison; the place flaunted a luxury so extreme it felt almost violent.

This was the secret colosseum reserved for a handful of rulers—the Black Room.

Beneath those opulent lights stood a woman of immaculate bearing. Lee Se-ryeong, the director who oversaw Avalon’s operations. She was the head of a major gallery and bound by marriage into one of the great chaebol families—an aristocrat of the highest order. Yet here in the Black Room she became something else entirely: a reaper whose face remained forever cold and expressionless, as if every emotion had been surgically excised, leaving only the perfect efficiency of an android.

“You have arrived, Jin-hyuk-nim.”

The moment she spotted me, Se-ryeong bent at the waist in a deep, formal bow—the perfect gesture of submission reserved solely for me, the absolute sovereign who stood at the apex even among the giants that propped up Avalon, the largest shareholder and most powerful investor who held this colosseum of corruption in his grasp.

“I shall escort you to the room.”

Under Se-ryeong’s crisp escort I stepped into the private elevator deeper in the lobby. When the doors opened again, the VVIP lounge of the Black Room revealed itself—perfectly soundproofed and shielded against every electromagnetic wave.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of the lounge, where the finest leather sofas waited, the octagonal execution ground lay spread beneath my feet: a pure white canvas under vertical halogen lights, an arena of death I could survey at a glance.

A woman rose from the massive leather sofa deeper inside and came forward to greet me. Kim Su-min—the true mistress of Avalon and Master of the Black Room.

Despite the age that had begun to claim her forties, she flaunted an explosive, copper-toned, voluptuous bosom. She approached as if it were the most natural thing in the world, pressed those soft breasts against my arm, and linked elbows with me.

“I was just checking next month’s sexual combat schedule, Jin-hyuk.”

I sank deep into the central seat of honor. Se-ryeong approached and carefully slid a canapé between my lips. Su-min, plastered against my side, traced a subtle hand down my thigh while flipping through the tablet that displayed the sexual combat contract.

The moment the screen turned, a raw block of text ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and the profile charts of two women appeared.

It was a cold, standardized electronic document that might as well have been listing product specifications. Inside it, the shallow lives of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two women and the horrific conditions of their destruction were summarized with clinical dryness.

I finished reading the report, let out a hollow laugh, and snapped the tablet shut.

“A frail legitimate wife who used to throw pottery, and a Japanese housekeeper, thrashing around in the mud…”

The extreme contrast between the two women still glowing on the screen a moment earlier flashed through my mind. Han Ji-su, the legitimate wife—pale skin drained of all color, long straight black hair cascading down her back, sharp feline features glittering with empty, hysterical madness. And Miyamoto Sae, the mistress—plain puppy-dog features without a scrap of makeup, neat black bob, yet radiating a viperous killing intent as if she would tear the wife apart that very second.

“The housekeeper bitch who betrayed every kindness and tried to seize the master bedroom, or the legitimate wife determined to wreck that same bitch into a slab of meat that will never spread her legs for her husband again…”

Truly wretched, stupid bitches.

“They really intend to slam into each other until their cunts burst and their wombs shatter. Agreeing to a contract like this… they’re genuinely vulgar creatures.”

All for the hollow affection of one man, they were ready to stake their most radiant femininity and leap into the fires of hell. What they would lose on that ring would not be mere blood and flesh, but a brand of ruin they would carry for the rest of their lives.

“Why the long face, Jin-hyuk? For the master of this kind of amusement, you look rather sentimental.”

“Just… I hate to see the blood that will be spilled on that canvas go to waste.”

I glanced sideways at Su-min, who was still glued to my side.

Come to think of it, this woman had once stood on that very ring herself. Of course she had never fought for the cheap affection of some man. She had risked her life against Chloe for the Master’s seat of Avalon.

Two ruthless predators who had torn into each other solely to prove which of them was the perfect female—the partner—who would reign at my side. Looking at the contract now, I felt anew just how vast and savage the love-hate of this woman’s past had been, the past in which she had raced to the absolute limit beneath my feet.

Beyond the panoramic glass, the nightscape of Gangnam glowed far away beneath a thick darkness.

Inside the VVIP lounge a soft jazz melody drifted through the air, laced with the heavy scent of truffles, the fragrance of the most expensive perfumes, and the faintly metallic musk of women’s skin—an intoxicating cocktail of desire.

“Sorry I’m late, Jin-hyuk. Traffic was a nightmare.”

The door opened and Chloe, Deputy Master of Avalon, stepped inside. Flawless translucent white skin and a cascade of lush golden waves set her apart from Su-min’s healthy copper glow; she was a Western beauty as vivid as a rose in full bloom.

A dress plunged to the small of her back and revealed a deep valley of cleavage that threatened to spill with every step. Her presence swallowed the lounge in an instant. Behind her came Kang Hee-kyeong, wife of a major hospital director and an information broker, and the actress Cha Hee-jin, both wearing languid, seductive smiles.

“Chloe. Isn’t that dress a little too dangerous for tonight? You really came ready to play.”

Hee-jin flashed a fox-like smile and pressed herself tight against my side. She made a show of sliding her hand deep along the inside of my thigh and breathed hot against my ear. Chloe crossed her legs with elegant poise on the opposite sofa and offered a thin smile.

“It’s the trend these days—didn’t you know? Of course someone who only plays in Asia might not. I’ll make allowances.”

“Watch your mouth before I tear that pretty hair out by the roots.”

While the murderous undercurrent crackled between them, Hee-kyeong stepped in to separate the two.

“Let’s not act cheap in front of Jin-hyuk. Se-ryeong, you already briefed him, didn’t you? Well? Did our master’s appetite wake up at all?”

Hee-kyeong opened her signature black fan as she asked. Se-ryeong, standing by the window, answered without the slightest change of expression.

“Far from it. He merely pitied them—called them wretched bitches.”

At Se-ryeong’s provocative words every female in the lounge turned hungry eyes on me at once.

“It isn’t pity. Just emptiness. Ji-su and Sae both—ready to rip out their own wombs and crush each other’s cunts over a single male. That kind of obsession is both ridiculous and exhausting.”

At my cold mockery Chloe rose slowly and walked toward me. She circled behind my back and lifted my chin with cool fingers. Then those full, springy breasts pressed blatantly against the nape of my neck and my shoulders. The sensual weight made every muscle in my lower body pull tight.

“However those women destroy themselves is none of your concern.”

Chloe leaned down and breathed a wet whisper against my ear.

“All you have to do is watch. Just remember that we are always ready to receive every last drop of your desire.”

I turned my head without moving from the spot and seized the back of Chloe’s neck where it pressed against my shoulder. Twisting a fistful of golden hair, I crushed my mouth against hers as if to devour the hunger swimming in those violet eyes. While I plundered her hot tongue amid the sharp taste of wine, my free hand drove roughly between Hee-jin’s thighs.

“That’s right. As long as all of you keep spreading your legs beneath me, Gangnam will forever be my territory.”

At my arrogant declaration Chloe collapsed completely into my arms with a strangled moan.

The sharp clink of crystal glasses filled the night lounge.