The Demonic Hanbok
The car glided silently into the night's darkness. A heavy silence filled the minivan all the way back to the YamaShita Temple. Aki gripped the steering wheel wordlessly, Koharu tended to the injured Corax in the back seat, and Sea could only watch the scene unfold in terrified silence.
By the time they finally arrived home, Jinwoo had already scooped up the sleeping Chiharu and vanished into his bedroom—that is, Aki's room. Before leaving, he uttered just one command.
"Until tomorrow morning... let no one disturb my rest."
In his absence, the three women's night stretched on, long and tangled with complications.
The next morning, Jinwoo was already gone. All that lingered in Aki's bedroom—where he had stayed—was a faint trace of his scent and the lingering warmth of the bed where he had slept cradling Chiharu the night before. And atop that bed, Chiharu still slumbered deeply.
Her naked body bore the vivid marks of last night's ferocity, etched like a warrior's medals of honor.
"......"
Aki gazed down at the sight in silence. Her face held emotions far more intricate and subtle than mere jealousy.
She was the matriarch of the harem. Yet last night, her own bedroom had been stolen by that young daughter of hers.
Turning to Koharu and Sea, she issued her command.
"Prepare the bath."
It was the beginning of a new ritual.
The hinoki tub filled with steaming water. Koharu added herbs to soothe aching muscles and aromatic oils to calm the mind. The three women lifted the sleeping Chiharu as delicately as a sacred offering and eased her into the bath.
"Nngh..."
As the warm water touched her skin, Chiharu stirred for the first time, letting out a faint moan. Her long lashes fluttered, and slowly, her eyelids parted.
The first thing that swam into view were the faces of three women staring down at her naked form—their eyes a mix of concern, curiosity, and jealousy.
"...Mother...? Koharu... And... you..."
"Awake at last, my proud daughter."
Aki swept aside Chiharu's damp hair with a gentle voice laced with thorns.
"It seems you had quite the intense night. Master must have been... very satisfied."
As she spoke, she deliberately rubbed a soft sponge over the red and purple welts and handprints marring Chiharu's back and ass.
"Ahh...♡"
Chiharu let out an involuntary moan of pleasure.
"Sis... are you okay...?"
Koharu grasped her hand, eyes glistening with tears. But beneath her pure concern lurked a secret curiosity and longing for the intense reward she herself had yet to experience.
Sea said nothing. She could only stare, entranced, at Chiharu's perfect yet wounded body submerged in the water.
That body... the one that had wailed so desperately last night. That body... the vessel that had taken all of Master's essence.
"Tell us, Chiharu." Aki murmured low as she washed her, voice husky. "How was it in Master's arms? Far different from mine... wasn't it?"
A faint but triumphant smile bloomed on Chiharu's face at the question. She slowly rose, her full breasts breaking the surface, water droplets cascading like jewels.
"If Mother's embrace is a serene lake,"
she said, locking eyes with Aki,
"then Master's is a raging sea that devours everything."
She turned to Koharu. "If your prayers are pure spring water, Master's is scorching lava that melts all away."
Finally, she fixed Sea with a gaze laced with contempt and superiority.
"And if what you tasted was mere sweet poison, what I savored was death itself—and the perfect ecstasy of rebirth at its end."
She proudly displayed the red and purple marks etched across her body like trophies of war.
"I'm... different from all of you."
The three women had no reply to her declaration.
[Magic Workshop]
While subtle yet fierce hierarchies clashed among the women at the YamaShita Temple, Jinwoo immersed himself in preparations for his next plans within his fortress-like Magic Workshop.
Atop the massive ebony workbench lay the new offerings from his two recent hunts, neatly arranged. A massive black pearl infused with abyssal magic from the Sea Envoy's treasure chest, a seahorse statue forged from pure gold, and branches of mana-charged coral that grew only in the deep sea.
He gazed contentedly at these fresh materials, then surveyed the completed items on the opposite side of the bench. Crafted from resources gathered night after night hunting nightmares over the past weeks, they were his new business ventures.
Dozens of [Guiding Compasses] glowed faintly, all pointing in unison. Beside them sat squishy, jelly-like [Mind-Stabilizing Patches] in transparent containers, and tiny glass vials sealed the horrific stench of [Loathing Scent Pills].
These would be his first exports, sold to the Japanese and American governments for mountains of gold bars and dollars.
As he deemed all preparations complete, a sudden realization struck him.
Clothing.
He opened his computer. His next target was Kim Sea. The final 'ritual' to shatter her last vestiges of resistance, sever all ties to her past, and etch the Final Subjugation Seal into her lower abdomen.
That sacred yet profane ceremony demanded an equally fitting sacrificial garb.
He considered Japanese kimonos or Western wedding dresses but shook his head. Too cliché.
She was a special bitch, distinct from the others. Russian-Korean mix, brown hair, porcelain skin. Garments that maximized her exotic allure while symbolically trampling her bloodline—her 'Korean' heritage.
His fingers typed a single word into the search bar.
Hanbok.
Scrolling through countless shopping sites, he found the one garment that satisfied his twisted aesthetic perfectly.
It retained the form of traditional hanbok, but the fabrics and colors were utterly modern and provocative. The jeogori was sheer black see-through silk, thin enough to faintly reveal what lay beneath. The dongjeong and goreum straps were blood-red satin, stark against the black.
And the chima skirt—voluminous and elegant in traditional sweep, but in a deep, mysterious teal like a midnight lake. Golden threads embroidered a lavish, decadent dragon motif coiling across the entire skirt.
He envisioned it: Sea with her white skin and brown hair draped in it. The sheer black jeogori teasing the silhouette of her ample breasts, the red goreum gleaming like virgin blood. When she knelt prostrate before the altar, the flowing teal chima would fan out in a magnificent semicircle, as if a massive dragon claimed her as its sacrifice—majestic and obscene.
It was bridal attire for a wedding, yet a burial shroud for an altar offering. The ultimate symbol of conquest, perverting a nation's traditional garb for his desires.
Without hesitation, he selected the priciest option and clicked 'Order.' Delivery address: YamaShita Temple.
Now, all was ready for the final ritual.
Days later, an eerie peace hung over the YamaShita Temple.
After the horrific 'education' of her first night, Sea had abandoned resistance, submitting to the harem's rules under her seniors' tutelage. From Aki, she learned cooking and cleaning; from Chiharu, basic physical training; from Koharu, the proper posture for praying to her Master.
That afternoon, the four women went about their routines. Aki prepared dinner, while Chiharu, Koharu, and Sea played 'training' games with Corax in the garden.
Then Koharu's smartphone chimed like an oracle once more.
"A gift...?"
The four women exchanged glances. Master had sent something again.
Aki, the matriarch, moved first, leading them to the mansion door. As they crossed the barrier, the opulent estate vanished like a mirage, leaving only an empty lot in a mundane neighborhood.
As instructed, they headed to the old cherry tree at the neighborhood edge. There sat a large, luxurious box, as if it had always been there. No sender name or address.
They carried it back to the 'empty lot,' passed through the barrier, and the grand mansion reappeared behind them.
In the living room, before Master's throne, the four knelt around the box. Aki tremblingly lifted the lid as representative.
Inside lay a folded garment wrapped in soft silk.
"This is..."
As Aki unfolded it carefully, gasps escaped the four women in unison.
It was a hanbok. But not the demure, modest kind they knew. It was a wickedly beautiful, decadent 魔服—made for a night queen or to seduce a fallen god.
The jeogori was sheer black see-through silk, faintly translucent. Delicate embroidery adorned the dongjeong, and blood-red satin goreum straps contrasted sharply with the black, captivating the eye.
And the chima—voluminous and elegant, yet in deep, mysterious teal like a midnight lake. Golden threads wove a lavish, decadent dragon motif coiling across the fabric.
"Beautiful..." Koharu breathed in pure awe. It looked like ceremonial robes for an exotic goddess.
But Aki and Chiharu instantly knew who it was for—and its purpose.
Their gazes turned to Kim Sea, who stared entranced at the garment.
For that bitch...
Aki's eyes gleamed coldly. She pierced its meaning perfectly. No mere clothing—this was sacrificial garb for the 'sealing' ritual. Just as they had worn kimonos for theirs, this Korean bitch would don her homeland's traditional attire and offer everything in the most humiliating way to Master.
Jealousy mingled with cruel excitement as matriarch; she would oversee this new breaking-in.
Chiharu bit her lip in fury. That bitch gets... such a beautiful garment...? She had worn only a latex suit to flaunt her body, yet this one received something so ornate and symbolic.
Her rivalry with Sea reignited.
And Sea... she couldn't tear her eyes away. Korean though she was, she'd rarely worn hanbok. Yet this eclipsed any she'd seen—overwhelmingly beautiful... and bewitching.
Unthinkingly, she reached out to touch the silken fabric. In that instant, the faint but unmistakable residue of Master's magic seeped into her fingertips, fiercely stimulating the stigmata in her lower abdomen.
"Hngh...♡"
She yanked her hand back in shock. Realization dawned. This garment... it's for me.
And the day she donned it would be her final judgment—the day she would be reborn entirely as his, just like these three women.
Terror bloomed on her face alongside an irresistible, sweet anticipation.