Subjugating on Broadcast (29)
The moment Dong-hyun's victory was locked in, the octagon door swung open.
He could have toyed with his opponent further, broken him down piece by piece — but he held back. He wasn't ready to let Yoon Jin-ju see that side of him. Besides, tormenting other men had never been a hobby of his.
When Dong-hyun returned to the table, Yoon Jin-ju was already talking.
"Oh my god… Jin-woo, you're not just built like that — you can actually fight? Wow. Smart and good in a scrap… is there anything you can't do?"
Her own teammate had just gotten wrecked, and she was still heaping praise on Dong-hyun.
"Eh… I trained a little myself, that's all."
"A little? Come on. With skills like that, I think we'll… be okay."
She seemed to have already decided that Dong-hyun was going to help her escape this place.
"Next is Yoon Jin-ju's team. Please proceed."
Dong-hyun had come back, but Jin-ju still hadn't made her move, and the staffer was getting impatient.
"Ah… right. I'll go with this."
Yoon Jin-ju pushed the number 9 piece on her right flank forward. One square ahead of it sat Dong-hyun's number 4 — Chu So-yeon. If those two pieces met, So-yeon wouldn't stand a chance. Instead, Dong-hyun slid his own number 5 forward a single square, bringing it into contact with the opponent's 4.
That was Gyeo-wool's call. She had figured the enemy king was either piece 1 or piece 2, and piece 2 was sitting directly behind their 4. Punch through here, and a clean win was sitting right there for the taking.
Both teams' pieces 5 and 4 have made contact. A sensory contest will now commence.
Players from each team, proceed to Room 2.
Yoon Jin-ju's player was a man again — one of the ones who had turned Kim Seon-ha into a slave. Unlike the sneaky bastard from before, this one didn't talk much. His viciousness, though, ran deeper, not shallower.
"I'll be back."
"Don't tell me… you're good with a gun too?"
"Beats me. First time I've ever actually fired one..."
Dong-hyun had done alternative service, so the only round he'd ever put downrange was the one at basic training. Jeong Min-ju, though, had walked him through pistol fundamentals thoroughly enough that he figured he had a real shot. He'd also picked up a decent amount of marksmanship theory from FPS games — things like Call of DutX. Whether any of that would hold up in a live-fire situation was another question, but right now Dong-hyun's confidence was running at a full boil.
The two of them entered Room 2 and both shooters pulled on headphones. The targets sat twenty-five meters out, rings printed on the paper, scoring from ten at the center down to one at the outer edge.
Nine rounds. Highest total score wins.
Ahn Jin-woo's team initiated contact, and will therefore shoot first.
Dong-hyun had the opening shot. He settled into the stance Min-ju had drilled into him, lined up the sights, and eased the trigger back.
Bang!
The monitor showing his target punched a hole through the five-ring. His opponent's mouth curled into a thin, ugly smile. Then the other man fired — a seven. Two points down, first string.
Dong-hyun didn't flinch. Min-ju's voice came back to him, clear as if she were standing at his shoulder.
Unless it's your own gun, you will not shoot well on the first round. A clean first shot would be nice — but if it isn't, do not panic. Keep your sight picture in the exact same place every time, and think of the next shot as a deliberate hold-off from where the last one landed. Dialing in the clicks would be better, but for now this will serve you more.
He'd had that advice from the start, so he already knew exactly where his sight picture had sat. He took the same stance, same hold. The first round had printed low-right on the screen, so he deliberately held off high-left.
Bang!
An eight. Closer to center than before, still biased toward the lower right. This time it was the other man who looked rattled. He lined up and fired again — another seven. Last time he'd hit high-left; this time high-right. He wasn't holding a consistent sight picture at all.
Dong-hyun's turn. He squeezed.
A nine. He'd come up too far to the high-left this time, the round just kissing the inner edge of the nine-ring. The other man's face went darker. Through two strings he'd been up by a point; now Dong-hyun had dropped a nine on him. The opponent shouldered the pistol and fired — and missed even worse. A six.
Dong-hyun was up by two.
He drew a slow breath before the fourth round, held off with perfect intent, and punched the ten-ring dead center. From the fifth shot through the ninth, every single round found the ten. A clean, total win — built on nothing but his own focus and a working understanding of the weapon in his hands.
Until now, most of his victories had come through the System. Memorizing colors. Chess. Things like that. This one was purely his. The satisfaction hit different.
When Dong-hyun walked back to the table, Yoon Jin-ju lit up all over again.
"You're good with a gun too?? Whew… I am liking this guy more and more."
"Heh. I'll take that."
Jin-ju said it and reached for a piece. If number 2 really was their king, she should have been reaching for 7 or 3 on either flank. What her fingers closed on was number 9.
"Our number 4 is Chu So-yeon. If she goes up against your 9, it's a physical contest. You really think the guy on 9 is going to leave her alone?"
Yoon Jin-ju's hand stopped.
"What you're imagining… isn't going to happen. Sang-hoon isn't that kind of person. And besides… we still have to win the game, don't we?"
"So winning is all that matters, no matter what happens. Hmm. Got it."
Jin-ju let his words hang and pushed the 9 forward anyway.
Both teams' pieces 9 and 4 have made contact. A physical contest will now commence.
Players from each team, proceed to Room 3.
From Yoon Jin-ju's side, a man who had to be six-foot-three unfolded himself and started walking. Same room as the one Dong-hyun had just beaten — one of the pair who'd chosen mutual survival from the jump. Dong-hyun could see why Jin-ju wanted to believe this one wouldn't cross that line.
Jin-ju was the one who didn't understand. Those men hadn't competed because they were afraid. If her team had lost, what they would have done to her was as obvious as sunrise.
Chu So-yeon dragged her shaking body toward Room 3. A slender woman beating a man built like that was a fantasy, and she knew it. Across from her, Lee Sang-hoon was smiling with his whole face.
"Heh heh heh… get up here."
The smile froze her at the cage door. Two staffers waiting at the side grabbed her and shoved her into the octagon. The gate slammed shut and locked.
"I surrender… I surrender."
She shouted it the instant she was inside.
"Surrender? How boring. So that's it — you're giving up?"
"Yes. I surrender."
"Then take everything off. Let me see that body. You look pretty damn sexy."
Lee Sang-hoon finally dropped the mask.
"What?"
"Don't want to? Fine. I'll do it for you."
He came at her. So-yeon scrambled backward, but there was nowhere to go inside a cage that small. He caught her in two strides and slammed her to the canvas, then tore into her clothes with both hands.
"Aaah!!"
Those thick fingers ripped off everything they closed on. In seconds she was naked, hands flying to cover her breasts and her pussy — except her chest was far too much for one arm. Crushed under her own forearm, those heavy breasts only stood out more.
"Damn. Those are some serious tits. Let me see. Arms down."
"I… I don't want to..."
She resisted.
Slap!
Sang-hoon's palm cracked across her cheek before she could finish the sentence.
"You gonna put them down while I'm still asking nicely?"
Her head snapped sideways and locked there. She was too stunned to even understand what had just happened.
Slap!
His palm found her other cheek.
"I said put your hands down."
He growled it low, and her arms finally slid off her body, leaving her completely exposed.
"Wow. Those are some incredible tits. Never thought I'd see a pair like that in the flesh. Hands behind your back. Stay like that."
Swallowing the shame, Chu So-yeon laced her arms behind her. Sang-hoon cackled at the sight and started walking toward her.
"You said that kind of thing wouldn't happen."
Dong-hyun said it from the table, eyes on the screen.
"I… I'm sorry. I didn't think Sang-hoon would do something like that..."
She claimed she hadn't seen it coming. Dong-hyun had. She'd been far too generous about her own people.
"Nobody can stop what's happening in there now. All we can do is hope So-yeon walks out of that cage in one piece."
He was right. Once Sang-hoon was inside the octagon, there was no lever left to pull. Dong-hyun had never even touched Chu So-yeon — but she was still his teammate, and the anger sat in his gut all the same. The rest of his team felt it too. There was nothing any of them could do except swallow it and clench their fists until the knuckles went white.