Torment and Revelation
There was no time to explore my changed body while washing, not with the boss's eyes glaring at me through the transparent glass. If I dawdled too long, he might smash the glass and something would come flying—who knew what could happen in this game world? Nothing would be surprising. I wasn't completely defenseless, but I had no chance against that man's attacks, so for now, I'd do as I was told.
Water dripped from me as I stepped out of the shower, hesitating on what to do next. The man pointed to the bed.
"Lie down."
"But if I don't dry off even with a towel, the bed will get soaked..."
My timid remark made him scowl irritably and rise. His heavy footsteps approaching felt so threatening that my body shrank back instinctively. Ignoring that, he closed in and slapped my cheek hard.
"I hate stupid bitches who make me repeat myself. I heard you have a little sister? If you behave, maybe she'll stay safe. Got it?"
His words were soft-spoken, but there was no softness in them. At the mention of Hanbyeol, I forgot about my stinging cheek and hurried to the bed. Only then did he smirk slyly.
"That's better."
I felt the sheets growing damp beneath me, but it wasn't my bed anyway, so I ignored it. Gazing down at me with satisfaction, the man began wrapping rope around my wrists from the bedside, binding them tight.
"Can you still heal with your hands tied?"
"Yes."
"What if I gag you?"
"I can't."
"I see."
My knowledge of skills came instantly to mind, as if I'd always known them despite just possessing this body, but I drew a blank on the world's backstory. I'd never been one for lore or story in the game anyway—maybe that was a small mercy now.
He bound my limbs to each bedpost, then finally gagged me.
"When I remove the gag, you focus on healing. Understand? No need to answer. If you pass out and die, your little sister is next. So endure it."
"Mmmph!"
A sharp pain stabbed into my abdomen immediately. Like being knifed. The agony whited out my vision; I wanted to black out right then. But if I did and he ungagged me only for me to fail healing from blood loss, Hanbyeol would be next. Even if she survived, a mage without healing might live with permanent damage. So I clung to consciousness through the mounting pain across my body. I couldn't stop the muffled screams leaking out, but the character's high mental strength kept me from fainting despite my blurring sight from blood loss.
After mangling my body, the boss leaned in close, grinning wickedly. Then he started unbuckling his belt.
Whatever "boss's tastes" the guy who'd dragged me here mentioned, it was vicious. No foreplay or lube—just blood as lubricant, probably. He dropped his pants and straddled my stomach, sliding his long thing between my breasts. I didn't need to look to know what it was. Pain overshadowed shame and self-loathing; tears flowed on their own.
"Hngh... hnnk..."
"Yes, that face. Make that expression, and your sister lives."
As he slowly rocked his hips, my breasts compressed and distorted. This isn't what I made the character for. Absurd grief welled up amid the confusion, tears streaming steadily. I turned my head away, hating even to meet his eyes, waiting for him to finish. The stabbed wounds throbbed with every shake of my body, twisting my face naturally in pain.
After a while, he suddenly stopped. Is it over? I waited silently for him to remove the gag, but something felt off. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me.
"H-Hey, you okay? Are you alive?"
After stabbing and slashing me himself? Absurd. I rolled my eyes to glare at him. That cold-blooded face had turned boyishly flustered—it was ridiculous. Then it hit me: Hanbyeol and I were in this mess, so maybe he was too. As he shifted, brushing my wounds, I groaned.
"Ah, sorry! I'll untie you right now!"
He freed my hands, then my legs, scanning around like he was looking for something. Ignoring him, I spat out the gag and chanted the recovery prayer. I didn't know the exact lines, but the familiar words from the character's muscle memory flowed for the healing skill. Blood stopped pouring; wounds knit closed.
The new possessor rummaged a desk for bandages, then gaped at my healed body.
"What the..."
He looked deeply shocked. Fair enough—for me, high mental correction meant waking up gender-swapped in another world's prison wasn't that jarring. His reaction seemed more normal. Dropping into your own body in another world would disorient you; add a bloodied naked woman tied up, and worse.
Lucky for me, really. Someone this flustered had basic ethics—no mindless torture or rape. Even modern criminals were brutal; this was encouraging.
Time to seize control? But offending him might make him snap back to the original owner's habits. He wore this boss's skin, after all. I stayed submissive to gauge him.
"I've done as you said, so please leave Hanbyeol alone."
Like addressing the previous owner. But it came out too calm—thanks to high mental stats. Not groveling or begging like it should have. Still, the man in the boss's body didn't mind. He just looked more flustered, glancing at me nervously. Normal civilized reaction. I relaxed a bit, keeping up the act.
"Ahem. What was the deal again? Not backing out—I just can't remember exactly."
He seemed eager to take responsibility, if a bit clumsy. If I weren't possessed, how would I react? Demand big rewards from this doofus? Or suspect acting and grovel more? If he was this good at acting to fool me, better to play straight for survival. Greed tempted, but one slip and he'd kill me if suspicious.
I was tightrope-walking with our lives as collateral.
"You said you'd be satisfied with me and leave Hanbyeol alone."
I knelt, head bowed submissively. Couldn't see his face. A deep sigh followed—relief; I'd played it right.
"Got it. Get dressed first."
He rose, fumbling into underwear and pants. Without finishing, wouldn't that stain later? Eh, his problem. I knelt blankly till he turned, puzzled.
"Uh, you can dress and go. I won't touch you again."
"Such words are too kind for a slave. Please just spare Hanbyeol."
No clothes anyway; leaving meant back to prison. I probed more—is he testing or possessed? He leaned possessed.
"No, slave? Ugh... No clothes?"
"Gone since they kidnapped and locked me here."
"...Wrap in the blanket for now. Jeez."
Head down, I glimpsed his unsettled lower half. Nice customizing job. Convinced he was possessed, I eased up, even joking inwardly. Guilt-trip him lightly for rewards. Not evil-natured; even if not his fault, responsibility might get us something. Enough to escape and adapt with Hanbyeol.
Real game world or fantasy borrowing game characters? Hard to survive without powers either way. Needed to scout.
"Anyone outside?"
"Yes, boss!"
He stepped out, masking awkwardness with sternness toward the subordinate. His fierce face snapping serious almost made me laugh; I stopped peeking and rubbed bloodstains off my skin. Healing erased wounds and dizziness, but traces lingered.
"Is there a woman named Hanbyeol?"
"Don't know slave names, but I'll check. Boss, why the sudden formal speech...? Something wrong?"
"Hm. Doesn't suit?"
"Not that—it’s scary, honestly. The woman not to your taste or..."
"Hm. Very satisfying, so drop it. Find Hanbyeol and send her to my room. Bring women's clothes too."
"Ah, she pleased you?"
"Don't call her 'that bitch.' Hurry."
"Yes!"
The quick subordinate bowed low, head peeking in, glancing at me—checking if I lived? My tired, blood-smeared look helped; no suspicions.
Sending him off, the man slumped on the sofa, sighing deeply, face buried. Muttering—overwhelmed by the situation. Fair; waking as a crime boss mid-rape would fluster anyone. Same absurdity for us all.
But moments later, facing Hanbyeol dragged in screaming defiance, he reacted unexpectedly.
"You bastards! What did you do to Ivy-unnie! I won't let you off! Let go! ...Huh?"
"Huh?"
The subordinate shoved me—Ivy—into the room, draped rags on the rack, and left. Hanbyeol and the man just stared, eyes wide.
Hanbyeol spoke first.
"Guildmaster-oppa...?"
"...Real Hanbyeol? Our guild maknae?"
Her words bulged his eyes; I felt headstruck, looking up at him. Guildmaster glanced at me too; Hanbyeol followed, spotted my bloodied body, and lunged.
"What did you do to Ivy-unnie!"
"C-Calm down! Misunderstanding!"
I stared blankly at guildmaster. Hanbyeol called me unnie, but after raiding together, he'd know I was a guy. Sure, now it felt shameful being overpowered by a man, but it wasn't willing—life threatened.
Guildmaster same. Bad timing for possession. Or good? Saved me from worst. Grateful either way.
"So that's really Ivy? If you'd known, act like it!"
"Why memorize a male character's face? I'm not gay."
"..."
Truth: didn't care about others' customs, male or female. Faking recognition then could've killed me. Better joke than kill vibe.
"What now, Ivy-unnie... What's all this..."
My mood-lift shattered as Hanbyeol teared up, approaching. Awkward smile, I dropped the covering blanket, showing below my chest.
"I'm fine. See? Not a scratch."
"Healing fixes everything? It must've hurt so much! Taking my place... unnie like this..."
She hugged me, bursting into sobs. Guildmaster turned away, clutching head—guilty or embarrassed by two naked women clinging? Anyway, relief: no immediate death worry.