The Secret of the Numbers 1
I opened the window to let out the lingering scent of passion. The aroma of jasmine mixed with lewd fluids and semen... As the fragrance of ecstasy drifted away, my pounding heart finally settled. The time I'd spent with Han Areum felt like a dream. A moment where the boundary between reality and fantasy blurred.
While driving, something glittered in the passenger seat. A drop of her fluid she'd spilled shimmered on the leather seat. It was a beautiful trace, but my materialistic instinct toward luxury cars immediately reared its head.
"Fuck. I took off the plastic wrap earlier!"
I couldn't stand this. The fact that I couldn't tolerate a new car getting dirty proved I was materialistic after all. I needed to wax the exterior too, so I had to find a high-end car wash.
The built-in navigation in the car activated.
"Wait... For the navigation to work?"
Satellites were still orbiting Earth. The hell hypothesis was debunked by a single working navigation system. Communication, satellites, electricity... All the infrastructure humans needed was functioning normally in this world.
"Just where the hell is this place?"
I was sinking deeper into the maze. I headed to the luxury car wash the nav suggested. The roar of the Bentley’s 12-cylinder engine inevitably drew jealous stares from other cars. Surprisingly, people's brains were imprinted with admiration for luxury cars. They even recognized Olex Night or Platinum watches. Unintentionally, I'd proven that human brains were filled with desire for wealth.
I clicked my tongue bitterly and pulled into the high-end car wash. I only wanted an interior clean, but the problem was I couldn't communicate with the staff. No talking allowed. All communication had to be through Joker smiles and gestures.
I got out of the car, flashed a Joker smile, and handed over my card. The attendant returned the Joker smile and pretended to process the payment. Then they started the interior cleaning.
I realized how little conversation was needed to live in this world. They must have gotten used to this life too. A world without the need for talk. The world was changing rapidly.
The staff cleaned the interior meticulously. It seemed they'd inherited their diligent lives and artisan spirit as a legacy. Wiping every crease in the leather seats with a cloth was almost artistic.
The problem came when the interior was done. One attendant started driving my car somewhere.
Hey. Wait a sec. That's the entrance to the automatic wash?
I couldn't speak, so I just screamed internally. No way to stop the car. Hey... you demon bastard. Where the fuck are you taking my car? No way they'd run a premium sedan through an automatic wash... Who the hell puts a luxury car through that shit!
I couldn't even show a panicked expression. I just gave the attendant pushing my new car into the machine a Joker smile loaded with hatred.
The bastard saw my smile and grinned even wider, giving me a thumbs up.
Demon bastards!! Haah. Please. Who runs a 12.1 billion won car through an automatic wash? The exterior needs hand washing too, you lunatics!
And so, the Bentley disappeared between the massive brushes. Nothing was perfect. They were just mimicking the original humans. Mimicry and replacement were different. If they could mimic perfectly, they wouldn't be any different from the humans.
Fortunately, the car had no major scratches. The paint's luster was a bit dulled, which bugged me. Driving the post-automatic-wash Bentley home, I sank into thought.
Now the world was mine to live as I pleased. Wasn't this paradise? Creampies extended my life, and I could live forever like this. A heaven full of demons! Fucking ironic.
Shit. As long as I avoided demon possession... I could fuck anyone I wanted however I wanted.
"Huhuhehehe."
For the first time, I felt true liberation driving the Bentley. Living among them wouldn't be hard. In movies, demon-possessed humans rotted or filled with pus, turning grotesque, but thankfully not here. Demons possessing humans became diligent ones following their routines. In the end, wasn't this a peaceful world replacing humanity's endless ideological conflicts and destruction?
And the collapse of currency value. No more money changing hands, no calculating losses. No labor disputes, everyone performing routines efficiently—society ran smoothly. Perfect communism? An ideal society where everyone silently did their jobs without complaint. Ironic. When people worked mindlessly... it was heaven for guys like me.
Was this the life of the top elite? Forcing everyone to toil silently was paradise for those in power. No stressful social life either. No envying others on SNS and feeling miserable. Promotions, competition—all meaningless. On the flip side, creation and novelty vanished. Demons hijacking human bodies were mere "echoes of the past."
My mind eased. Now all that was left was using the demons for a comfortable life. The moment fear faded, revenge surfaced first. My ex-wife and her affair partners must have been possessed too. Even if just shells remained, I planned to get revenge. Perfect environment for it, actually.
Next, how to rebuild this world? I could make a kingdom for myself. Assuming the brain learning in possessed humans dragged on. Their brains followed automation and routines. One of the brain's defense mechanisms for optimal energy use. The demons' brains were exactly in that state now. 'Complete automation and routinization.' From another angle, it seemed stupid, but slightly different. Controlling routine triggers meant creating new routines.
...Neuroscience knowledge would be my greatest weapon.
"That's it. This is the way, hehehe!"
I arrived at the apartment. Couldn't park my new steed Bentley anywhere. I went down to basement level 6. Usually, people avoided the lowest parking levels because it was a hassle, so spots were plentiful and luxury cars abundant.
As basement 6 approached, the cars parked there looked classier. Porsche, Lamborghini, Rolls-Royce. Not quite 12.1 billion like my Bentley, but multi-hundred millions everywhere.
Just then, a white D-series wagon parked in front of me. A familiar face got out. A woman in a sky-blue LA Dodgers cap pulled low.
Nam Seohee??
Nam Seohee had swapped her slutty convenience store dress for different clothes. Face half-hidden by the cap, but easy to recognize. Her short jeans dug deep into her thighs, and the white tee hugged her voluptuous upper body. But what caught my eye was the number floating above her head.
[6,12,0]
Earlier at the convenience store when she stuffed in the tampon, it was [5,12,0]. After driving somewhere, the number had changed.
From Han Areum, I'd hypothesized the first digit was oral creampie count, second vaginal. Did she go suck some dick somewhere?
Her vacant eyes turned to my car, then to me. Suddenly, her focus sharpened. Her lips slowly stretched into a Joker smile ear-to-ear.
What the? That was the look of a predator eyeing prey just now?
Then I realized. Her gaze raked over me like she was appraising the Bentley. The moment she clocked me as rich, she targeted me for seduction. Totally different from treating me like an NPC this morning.
She sidled right up next to me as we walked. Her arm brushed mine with every step, sweet perfume tickling my nose. Her blank face would flash a Joker smile whenever I glanced over. Her sparkling white-nailed fingers toyed with my arm. I quickened my pace, but she stuck close. The jingle of her ankle bracelet and click of her heels echoed in the underground lot.
Suddenly, she blocked my path. Another Joker smile spread. Her tongue tip flicked over her lips beneath it. She beckoned with a gesture to follow, her eyes on my crotch.
Outright seduction, huh?
Maybe a tenpro like my ex-wife? Women who kept their bodies tight, wore nails and anklets—rare. Hiding from regulars with a deep cap on outings. Even that obvious ploy to seduce the rich.
Not much experience for a tenpro, though?
She approached, squatted in front of me, and yanked down my zipper with a zzip.
Whoa, no hesitation.
I let her do whatever. My cock, still sensitive from Han Areum, twitched at her cold fingers.
Her lips touched my glans, pleasure surging through me.
"Ngh..."
I stifled a groan, stroking her hair. The baseball cap fell to the ground. Black hair cascaded, partially veiling her face. Red lips enveloped my glans; her tongue teased the urethral opening.
"Slurp... slurp..."
Lewd sounds leaked from her mouth. She had experience—skillful technique. Her tongue targeted the sensitive spot behind the glans.
"Hngh..."
Nam Seohee took me deep into her throat. Her jaw touched my balls. Her throat bobbed visibly. She started bobbing rhythmically.
"Glurk, glurk..."
The deep-throating sounds echoed in the empty lot. Worry about being heard mixed with the thrill of danger, heightening the pleasure. Her hands massaged my balls, rolling them gently one by one. Her face flushed, tears welled in her eyes. But she didn't stop.
"Haa... hngh..."
Unable to hold back, my hips bucked. The number above her head [6, 12, 0] trembled faintly. Feeling the limit, I gripped her head hard.
"Grgh!"
I erupted deep in her throat. The first wave poured down. She thrashed like she was choking but soon swallowed calmly. Her throat worked visibly. White semen dribbled from her lips.
As she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up, the number changed.
[7, 12, 0]
It changed! The first number counts oral creampies.
Cross-verified with Han Areum. So... 12 is vaginal creampies... Not mine, but her total experiences.
Everything clicked. Nam Seohee gripped my cock again, stroking. Seeing it harden, her Joker smile deepened. She stood slowly, back to the wall. Undid her hot pants button. Pulled a small tube from her pocket.
What's that?
Curious, she slid down her hot pants and panties, braced one hand on the wall, and thrust out her ass. Pale moons of buttocks and pink anal wrinkles spread before me. Brazilian wax—no unclean feel. She squeezed clear lube from the tube onto her anus, rubbing gently before inserting a finger.
Fucking lube? Legs spread wide, a white string dangled from her pussy entrance. Tampon... With the insertion type, she was asking for anal instead.
She lubed her finger generously, circling her anus. I'd never done anal. But if your last digit's 0, no experience either? Why carry lube?
Pink anus peeking between white cheeks. Tampon string below. This temptation was impossible to resist. My cock throbbed.
Nam Seohee. What kind of woman are you?