Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Poker Payoff
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Chirp chirp.
My eyes flutter open.
And right away, I feel the dampness down below.
"Ah, fuck."
Wet dream again, right on cue.
Lately, every time I close my eyes, I'm plagued by filthy dreams. No wonder the frequency's shot up.
This is all Yi Ju-ha's fault.
'Fuck you, pussy posse! Pussy posse!'
'Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!'
'You think a girl can beat a guy?'
'I just didn't touch you 'cause your delinquent boyfriend buddies scared me off!'
'One-on-one, I'd smash you like dogshit chow!'
'You... fucking... bitch... ugh... ugh!'
'Ughhh, get pregnant! Get pregnant!'
'Ah, not inside!'
'Ah--- cumming---.'
Splurt, splurt.
Not even in her—just blew a load in my fucking boxers.
What a goddamn pipe dream.
I'd thought about stuff like this before, but a dream this vivid? First time.
"Ugh."
I drag my soaked boxers to the bathroom.
Scrub scrub scrub. Fuck, morning self-loathing hits hard.
Still, damn good dream.
Fucking that smug Yi Ju-ha however I wanted, creampie on my terms...
Could I pull that off for real?
"Hmm..."
No clue. Can't picture it.
Forcing her? Yeah, no way that flies.
Only shot's if she gets hooked on my dick, can't live without it—some porn-plot bullshit.
Then I could smack her around yelling, "Can't live without this dick, huh!"
"Fuck."
Watched too much porn?
I finish rinsing the boxers and check my phone.
[Burger Haven: Today's Burger Coupon!]
[Tasty Shack: Today's Special Deals!]
...Fuck.
Same old KakaoTalk channels.
For a total loser like me, checking KakaoTalk's just muscle memory.
No one's gonna hit me up, but I tap anyway, half-hoping.
[Yi Ju-ha: Hey]
I thought it, and boom—KakaoTalk pings for real.
[Yi Ju-ha: It's done lol come see]
Already done?
About a week since that day.
Way faster than I figured.
[When should I head over?]
[Yi Ju-ha: Anytime]
Classes wrap around 3 p.m....
Bus'll get me there before 4.
What perfect fucking timing.
Finishes up the day I cream myself dreaming of her.
"Fuck."
Already stressing.
My face mosaiced right?
Haven't even settled into college yet—if porn star rumors spread, might end up hanging from a noose.
I rush to get ready for school.
"That's it for today's lecture."
"Thanks for your hard work—."
Whew, brutal.
Just sitting through class drains me dry.
Engineering courses especially.
Liberal arts are tolerable, but core majors? Brain feels like exploding.
Action-reaction, got it.
But what's a moment?
Force, sure. Torque? Moment?
Force direction, fine. But torque center? Moment direction? Fuck!
"Ah... my head."
Honestly, is my brain no different from those delinquents'?
I swore it wasn't, but peel back the layers... pretty similar.
Just a smidge more social savvy, same raw smarts...
"No fuck no..."
Can't be.
Gotta be good at something...
I pack up, sling my bag, and head out.
3 p.m. Plenty of time to hit her place by 4.
What am I even good at?
Not studying.
Not partying.
A loser who can't study... rock bottom?
A loser with no delinquent cred? Kinda rare.
OnlyFans loser? Now that's unique.
Fuck, the more I think, the worse it gets—stop.
What's OnlyFans anyway?
Nerves kicking in, I search the site.
OnlyFans, OnlyFans clones, OnlyBunz, etc...
Tons of variants.
"Hmm..."
Twitter mashed with Instagram vibes.
Two big SNS I know, blended just right.
I scroll, hunting cute profile pics.
Spot a pretty girl, tap in.
Free teaser pics galore.
Gawk at 'em, crave the deep cuts? Paywall unlocks.
"All kinds of weird shit..."
People rake cash like this.
No need jetting to Japan—just film solo, upload, sell.
"Hmm..."
Sightseeing sites, suddenly at Yi Ju-ha's door.
One visit and my feet know the way.
I lick my lips, hit the buzzer.
Ding-dong.
Yeah, come in.
Familiar voice from inside.
Door wasn't even locked.
Click, door swings open—room exactly as I left it a week ago.
Laundry pile's bigger, messier, but same vibe.
Sniff sniff.
Couldn't help nosing around.
Yi Ju-ha scent everywhere—like burying my face in her nape.
"You made it?"
Yi Ju-ha sprawled on the bed, glued to her phone.
Baggy white tee, loose shorts.
Saggy neckline flashing deep cleavage.
Hot as hell.
Normally I'd avert eyes, shrink away,
but after that dream? Can't peel 'em off.
Fuck, snap out of it!
"Ughhh."
Been horizontal all day—messy hair as she sits up.
"Uploaded it already, but not live yet.
Hang tight."
"Already... uploaded?"
"Yeah. Came out nice."
Even more uneasy now.
"Uh... mosaic good?"
"Perfect. No face leak."
"How'd you edit? Take classes?"
Casual probe.
She shrugs blandly.
"Nah. Asked a senior."
What the fuck!
Mouth drops—she waves it off annoyed.
"Reliable one.
Why else hand it over? I'm not insane sharing."
"R-right... but."
Female senior, right?
Male? We both die.
I gnaw nails, waiting on upload.
Can't check mine—paywall. Need hers.
"Ah, fuck."
Familiar chimes from her phone.
Ding, ding.
Chip stacks clinking.
Online gambling vibes.
Does it all...
Used to ladder climbs, odds/evens from delinquent guys.
Now full baccarat, poker.
Loses way more than wins—why bother?
"Aaaah fuck!"
Flinch.
Irritable snap—I shrink to the corner.
Fuck sex. One hump and she'd beat me like a dog.
"Lost fifty kay, fuck fuck fuuuuck!"
Then don't play, moron...
Avert eyes. Pretend phone.
"Hey. You play Hold'em?"
"Hol... dem?"
What the hell, otaku slur?
Delinquent lingo I don't know!
"Poker, duh. Texas Hold'em?"
"Poker, yeah."
Poker...
Dark memories flood.
Family wrecked by hwatu and poker.
Childhood flashbacks sour the mood.
"Good at it?"
Hmm... better than you?
Thickheaded Yi Ju-ha ain't outplaying me.
"Dunno. Kinda?"
"How? Lessons?"
Nope.
No interest originally.
Just osmosis tagging along Dad.
"Not lessons exactly..."
"Hey, you play this."
Suddenly smooshes against me, shoves phone.
Face inches away—flustered, but grab it first.
Delinquent staple.
Backrow crew in class today ran something flashy like this.
No proper payouts... why play? Telling 'em falls on deaf ears...
"Spot you ten kay. Play."
"...Lose it?"
"Sell ten kay worth of body. Yours."
What the fuck?
Ten kay on OnlyFans? Cakewalk.
Lose? I'll cover.
I turn to the all-too-familiar screen I loathe seeing.
Start.
Long hiatus, no practice—eyes dart anyway.
SB, BB posted.
Three players. No visible stacks—sneaky.
Join.
Heart jackhammers, hands shake.
Should I? But if I played...
Thoughts tangle—dizzy spell.
Deal cards.
Tap join—instant four players.
Deal sound, two hole cards hit me.
Spade 3, Club 7.
Trash hand.
Dogshit from the jump.
"Fold it! Trash!"
Fold = muck. Pass.
Right play usually, but newbie here—no need yet.
Bail if pot bloats. Gotta watch flow first.
Ideally scout their styles... but asking Ju-ha? Headache city.
"I got this."
"Trash hand, why play?!"
Fuck my ears...
Telling me to play then backseat?
Ignore, hit call.
Call, call, call, call.
Blinds out, full lap.
Everyone decent starters? No deaths.
Post-first bet, three community cards flop.
Heart A, Diamond 8, Club 3.
Not unlucky. My Spade 3 pairs the Club 3.
Top pair threes this turn.
"Oh, pair! Pair!"
Fuck, distracting!
But weak sauce.
Low pair, opponents unknown.
Probabilistically, unless they started AA/KK, not dead yet...
Bet.
Call.
Fold.
Me call.
Worth tagging.
Lap done, turn card.
Fourth drops.
"!"
Heart 3.
Trips now... solid.
Trips rarer than you'd think.
Poker's curse: opponent's hand? Mind games all day...
"Wanna pump the pot..."
Trips on turn? Build time.
Gauge aggression... probs no fold equity needed.
Raise.
Call.
Opp raises, not me.
Second calls.
Hmm. Check? Safe call? All-in raise?
Pot's light...
Normally check/call smooth with short stack.
But adrenaline pumping—hit raise.
"Raise deducts virtual cash, dummy!"
No balance—goes negative, auto-tops up.
Overdraft?
Gut says go.
Opp pauses.
Call.
Vibe... they ain't stacked either.
One hand sample, but instinct screams.
Fifth card shows.
Spade 5.
Locked. Odds of opp crushing me? Under 10%.
Showdown impossible.
Even AA start loses.
Fold.
Second bails.
I bomb raise.
Opp sighs—can almost see it.
Fold.
Fanfare, pot schloops to virtual stack.
Minus flips positive instantly.
"Oh, won! Won!"
Why the fuss...
Yi Ju-ha smooshes closer, tits bouncing.
Reaction screams rank-only knowledge...
Would bleed dry otherwise.
"Couple more hands."
Two more with padded stack.
Learnings: Opps human, not bots. Like Ju-ha, live players.
Styles pegged quick.
All average joes.
Ju-ha sole mega-fish. Wild—three avgs, one chump?
Four players, one fish... traits cluster like that?
Delinquent life should've spawned more maniac overbetters.
Fifth hand.
Her yapping—"Ten kay up!" "Pull profits? Pull?" "Gonna fuck you over today"—goes mute. Just watches.
Three opps: solid fundamentals.
Don't matter.
Casino kid eyes-only trained vs. me? No chance.
Luck aside, reads and psych war? Worlds apart.
Precisely...
Thanks to Yi Ju-ha.
Her fishy plays into my takeover—opps rattled.
Sixth hand.
One bounces.
No emotes, but "Fuck!" exit visualized.
Game idle.
Final two mull.
Hesitate... then both recommit.
Seventh.
One more out—heads-up.
I bail too.
Duos drag, not ideal.
No new joins creeping me out.
Glance top-right virtual account.
Elephant code motif.
~300k? Ish?
"How much we make?"
"Three... hundred kay..."
Yi Ju-ha gawks, dazed.
Then steels up, grabs my collar.
"Strip. Now, fucker."