Chapter 11
Chapter 11
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Underground Mall Raid
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After meeting Yeon-ju and Ye-ji, my daily life changed.
With newfound confidence, my outlook on the world shifted. I could finally see how pathetically I'd been living all this time.
Others might laugh if they heard about it.
Meeting a whore and a hikikomori and suddenly gaining confidence? Yeah, it'd sound ridiculous.
But whatever—who was there to laugh anyway?
The biggest change was in how I treated Min-ji.
I no longer had any lingering attachment to her, so I started treating her like a toy.
I wasn't going to harm her, as promised—no beatings or torture—but I decided to experiment on what results I could get in the time remaining.
First up: no sex.
With Min-ji blindfolded, I hugged her from behind and fondled her breasts with both hands.
One hour, two hours—nothing but her tits and nipples.
She tried to play it cool at first, acting indifferent like she'd made some resolve, but after a couple of hours of nonstop breast play, even she couldn't hold back her squirming.
I kept teasing her hypersensitive nipples over and over. No mouth, no other touches—just hands on her breasts. Again and again.
As a guy, playing with tits never gets old, so I enjoyed it thoroughly. I did this two or three times a day, every day.
Whether her body heated up, she let out moans she couldn't suppress, or her pussy got wet—I ignored it all. No touching anywhere else. Just the breasts, over and over. And every time, I finished with a blowjob from Min-ji.
A very satisfying routine for me.
Min-ji was probably building up some serious sexual frustration. Having her breasts stimulated like that was intense enough.
On the fifth day, after getting my blowjob and cumming refreshingly in her mouth, I made her swallow it all.
What must that feel like? Teased relentlessly but never allowed to climax?
Once I left, would she masturbate? No tools or anything—just her fingers. Would that even satisfy her?
Eh, she'd figure it out. Not my problem.
Even after blowing my load in her mouth so satisfyingly, I still felt a twinge of frustration.
Makes sense—fondling those tits was plenty stimulating for me too.
And naturally, I wanted to thrust into her pussy, not her mouth.
I pondered for a moment.
Two more days, and I could meet Ye-ji.
Those huge breasts, that slim waist—her body sent shivers down my spine just thinking about it. Pretty as an idol.
Should I hold out for that? Or go hunting for some fresh stimulation?
Logically, holding out made sense, but I craved something new.
Raping a woman I'd never seen before? That's a different kind of thrill from regular sex.
Damn, what a trashy thought—straight out of this ruined world's playbook.
Before the world went to hell, thinking like this would've landed me in a psych ward.
Or prison.
Even as those thoughts swirled, I found myself gearing up to head out.
I'm insane. A real lunatic.
Just to be safe, I double-checked the lock on Min-ji's room before stepping into the night as usual.
Where to?
As I mulled it over, I noticed the date—it was market day.
Underground Mall, obviously! No wonder I'd been itching to get out early.
I took the least populated routes possible, climbing to the rooftop of a two-story building overlooking the Underground Mall entrance.
The Underground Mall's ten-day market, held once every ten days.
The only place in this godforsaken neighborhood where the remaining survivors gathered.
The local gangsters who controlled the area made it possible.
No violence tolerated inside the Underground Mall.
Even if you had killer skills, no one wanted to live getting chased by dozens of gangsters. Kept everyone in line.
The main draw? Trading food and booze.
The Shop with coins didn't sell alcohol.
That's probably why Ye-ji picked a skill like Can Beer Creation after seeing that.
But even in a ruined world, plenty of booze was already made. And some people couldn't survive on food alone—this market filled that gap.
I hid on the rooftop, watching the entrance.
My targets: people coming out after trading.
The market was pretty famous, drawing crowds from around. Annoying to sift through for outsiders or new faces—not the regulars.
After a couple of hours, I found a good mark.
Three guys, one woman.
Not total strangers, but new enough. My Sleep Skill only worked on three at a time, so I avoided bigger groups. But I saw one of the guys use a skill.
Right before entering the alley to the mall, he shouted "Soju!" and a bottle appeared in front of him.
What I fear is a group where all four have attack skills—this bunch was fair game.
That guy isn't right in the head either. Ye-ji wasn't the weird one.
Who picks Soju Creation as a skill? No survival instinct?
After generating a few more bottles, they headed inside.
Couldn't see great from afar, but the woman looked decent.
A bit older, but good vibe.
New City Missy Look? Wearing that here? Trusts those three guys? Brave.
My heart started pounding a little.
She had the figure to pull off that bold outfit.
Unsure when they'd exit, I kept watch at the entrance while musing on the Soju Creation skill.
After some thought, I reached my conclusion.
People who picked skills like that never imagined the world turning into such a shitshow.
Probably influenced by disaster movies—survivors banding together to overcome.
But reality was a sewer. Skills for personal survival trumped value-boosters.
Though grouping up like that kept the skill's worth, so maybe not bad.
Lost in random thoughts, the group finally emerged.
Three guys loaded with food baskets, woman with one.
They'd brought plenty of soju in—traded well.
That guy should've hooked up with the gangsters instead. Easier life.
Or maybe he'd end up a soju-making machine forever.
The group passed under my building into an alley. I slipped down quietly and tailed them.
The guys grunted under the weight but joked around since it was food.
They yapped loudly, voices carrying to me. No caution.
"Damn! Even with all this, we won't last till next market. What now?"
"What? Keep killing hard."
"We've cleared everything nearby. Nothing left."
"Hey. Hey. If you guys didn't hog all the women, we'd have enough mouths to feed. Bring back some. One each."
"Fuck, three cocks and one girl? What then? You gonna share?"
"Piss off, you fucks. Not doing it with you."
"Hah, so uppity. Ungrateful bitch. Come on, just once?"
"I said piss off. Touch me, and that's your last day."
"Fine, fuck it. We'll grab young ones. Bitch."
From that, I learned plenty.
Haha. Haven't had a chance to kill guilt-free in ages. Well, I never really felt guilty anyway.
One thing bugged me: the woman's words.
Touch her and die? What skill is that? Kinda risky.
Anyway, they strutted loudly down the alley—maybe confident in numbers, skills, or because they'd wiped out locals.
They stopped at a house with a tall fence—not easy to climb. Ambush here?
"Ugh, fuck, arms hurt. You guys go in first."
"Why? Gonna jerk one out?"
"Shut up, asshole."
"Fuck. Where do you even find shit like this in this world? Amazing."
"Shut up and go in."
"Got it. Lock the door when you come."
One guy stayed, set down his load, pulled out smokes and a lighter, lit up.
Cigarette smell wafted on the wind.
Non-smoker me just found it gross.
Door closed inside. I hit him with Sleep Skill immediately.
Mid-drag, he collapsed.
Grabbed the cig and lighter just in case, then smashed his head with the machete.
Not a huge haul.
Crushed the cig underfoot, grabbed two food bags, slipped inside.
Dropped the bags by the inner door, shut it, crossed the yard to the house door.
Murmurs and rustling from unpacking inside.
Crouched, peeked through the living room window.
Soju Guy, the other dude, and the woman—right there. Sleep Skill on all three.
Easy hunt thanks to Cigarette Guy.
But more to do.
Women inside, right?
Opened the door—ordinary home interior.
Generic sofa, table, dining set, TV. Nothing special.
Quickly dragged the two guys to their dead buddy.
Ooh, lucky seven. Good luck today?
The woman lay sprawled in her Missy Look, pale thighs exposed. Satisfying sight.
Dolphin Pants, New City Missy Look—hits all the right spots.
But her earlier words made me hesitate to touch.
Didn't want to risk whatever curse she had. Left her be, searched the house quietly.
Nothing on the first floor. Headed upstairs—three rooms. Checked each door.
First two: sparse furniture, beds. Nothing.
At the third, I eased the door open.
Inside: two naked women, mouths taped, bodies bound with rope.