The Fake Counselor Dreams of Sunshine (1)

"Ha, look at that spirit. You've gotten pretty manly lately, huh?"

Han Seo-yul grabbed my dick again and started jerking it off with a lewd slurp. Not this handjob bullshit again...!

"Ugh, that's what I was saying, sis."

"Hm?"

"Forget the ID—ungh... can't you hook me up with a certification or something?"

"Certification? From where? You don't mean the Association, do you?"

"Yeah, ugh, something like... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠counselor-related..."

I broached it casually. Since she was helping me out anyway, could she slip my name into the Association's database? Her reaction was lukewarm.

"Why the hell should I?"

"C'mon, sis. We're tight, right?"

"Tight how?"

"I've treated you, and... I've been servicing you like this."

"Treated? Serviced?"

She let out a disbelieving scoff, then started squeezing my dick harder.

"One fuck and you think you can make a fuss? Like I'm gonna fall for that from a former virgin?"

"D-don't get mad. This time it's really tough."

"If I help you out, what do I get?"

"Uh, lifetime free pass?"

"Bullshit. That's a given."

She let go of my dick and took a deep drag from her cigarette. A cold glint flashed in her eyes through the hazy smoke.

"I don't know why you need that cert so bad... but if you really want it, there are conditions."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening."

"First, finish the jobs on that USB. Every single request in there—perfectly. Deadline's a week."

"A week? How much is there?"

"Around 50 gigs?"

"Fifty?!"

My jaw dropped. Simple math: over seven a day. And all stuff I'd never done before.

"What, can't handle it?"

"No, I can, but... isn't that brutal?"

"Quit whining. If you can't even do that, what makes you think you can infiltrate the Association?"

"No, that's not the kinda infiltration—"

She cut me off coldly.

"Take it or leave it. You're the one who needs it. I sure as hell don't."

"...And the second?"

"Second, take every single stamina pill I give you. All of 'em."

I stared straight into her eyes. She really planned to suck my dick dry whenever she wanted. Calling me up every time her corruption desire cooldown hit...

"S-sis, can't we tweak the conditions a bit?"

"No such thing as a free lunch in this game, kid. If you want me raising you up, prove you're worth it. Show me if you're just a guy with a decent dick, or actually useful."

Raising me up, huh.

She's just fattening me up to eat me later, isn't she?

Maybe I should be grateful she's treating me better than a simple fuck buddy.

"...Fine. Fuck it, I'll do it."

"That's the spirit."

Sis buttoned up her shirt with a smirk and patted my cheek.

"Work hard. Do good, and I might reward you with something even better."

"Better how?"

"Dunno. Something you'd like. Perverted shit."

She threw me a loaded wink.

Perverted shit? Outdoor dog-collar walks?

"Oh, and."

"Yeah?"

"Pay the motel bill on your way out. I'm outta here."

She left without a backward glance. All that remained: me, the rumpled bedsheets, and a single USB drive.

"Hah..."

I flopped back onto the bed with a hollow laugh. Total power play.

But it didn't feel bad. No, a strange thrill bubbled up instead.

Fifty jobs in a week. Nail that, and I'd have the legit-sounding title of "Magical Girl Specialist Counselor."

Then, through my stepmom, I could meet even more—even more—magical girls.

If I play it right, I might shake off the villain label and start fresh.

A self-made life, no begging Nebula or Mom. Just me.

Magical Care.

With this app, it's gotta be possible.

The week after was pure hell.

Wake up to Photoshop, eat while coding, data checks before bed. Sleep: four hours a day. Felt like caffeine coursed through my veins instead of blood.

Thank god for Sis's perfect templates, or I'd have quit in three days...

"Uwaaah, finally done!"

I stretched.

Crack, pop.

My spine screamed.

"Ugh."

The mirror showed a wreck: dark circles down to my jaw.

No shut-in looked worse.

But that number on-screen? Beautiful.

Fifty grand per job, fifty jobs.

Sis's "hundred grand each" was total bullshit, but for a week's work? Solid cash. Explained why she recommended it.

"This'll tide me over another month or two."

Nebula would normalize and the gigs would dry up, but hey, it was something.

I rolled my stiff neck and stood. Room air was stale. Needed to air it out, but days with curtains drawn had me losing track of day or night.

Rubbing my aching back, I headed to the fridge. Gulped zero cola—my gaze drifted to the wall beyond.

304. Park Min-jeong's place. Well, a couple walls over.

"Damn, she's holding up well."

Cooped up a week, I'd monitored her via the app in spare moments.

Her corruption desire levels. Dependency graph on me.

Slowly curving upward.

Obviously. Without full treatment, rebound was inevitable.

Last week, after my rough "injection," it'd dipped to 62%. Now, up 10% in a week.

Especially last night—evening ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spike.

Cause? Obvious.

Job stress, clashes with combat-type magical girls... Public servant life, right? Just bigger scale 'cause she's a magical girl.

More corrupted mana, more stress buildup.

A few more days, and she'll blow past 80% easy.

Right on cue, the red dot blinked.

Her shifts had nights and days flipping; our timings kept missing. First time in ages she hit the hall while I was checking the app.

"Lemme see that face."

Perfect—I needed to hit the convenience store anyway. Slipped on slippers, headed out.

Click.

The second my door opened, 304's did too.

Park Min-jeong.

"......"

"Long time no see?"

Eyes met.

But her look? Unexpected. Way unexpected.

Hotpants hugging her thighs raw. Croptop teasing her navel. Heeled stilettos.

Done up deliberate. Those shorts so short, ass cheek peeked.

Bold.

Not for me—long time no see. Hitting up some guy?

"Where you off to?"

"......"

"Club? That getup's flashy as fuck."

I stepped closer. She finally spoke.

"No."

Sharp tone, but weak. And that speech?

'Yo'?

Polite? She'd normally snap, "The fuck's it to you, psycho?"

Clueless to her slip, she kept going.

"None of your business. Where someone's going."

"Is my business. We're real close, remember?"

"......"

She flinched. "Close" triggered memories of last time's frenzy.

Earlobes pink proof.

I pressed against her back. Peach shampoo hit my nose, mixed with heavy powder and perfume.

"M-move..."

"Or what."

"I'll scream."

"Go ahead. Like last time, moaning all cute."

I grabbed her ass without hesitation.

Squeeze—!

"Eek?!"

She jolted. Hotpants over firm, bouncy flesh. Fingers dug deep.

"Y-you psycho—what the fuck!"

"Just saying hi. Missed ya."

"This is assault! I'll report—"

"Do it. Tell 'em the neighbor groped your ass—but mention how you came over days ago offering it up. Oh, want the video from then?"

No video, obviously.

But did she have bandwidth to realize?

Nope—face drained white. Lips quivered, but no slap. Ass clenched under my hand.

Twitch, twitch.

Not resisting—enjoying. Masochist streak, still there.

Even sans desire burst, this reaction.

Palm stroked slow. Brushed inner thigh—she shuddered visibly.

"Fucking loser perv..."

"Cuss all you want. You love it."

"No, I don't! Ugh, let go... please!"

"Tell me. Where you going dressed like a slut? Hooking up?"

"F-fuck, no..."

Head down, dodging my eyes.

"Meeting friends."

"Friends? You have those?"

"D-don't lump me with you! Don't talk down!"

"What kinda friends. Fellow magical girls?"

"Th-that's—"

Hit the mark. Hesitated, then tiny nod of defeat.

"...Y-yeah. So it's not your scene."

"Oho."

Magical girl meetup. Tempting.

Got the cert for exactly this—meeting magical girls.

Treat 'em. Earn cash.

Her network? D-grade or lower trash-tier. Safer...

"Mind if I tag along?"

"What?!"

She recoiled in horror.

"You're nuts! Why the hell would you come?!"

"Why not? I like magical girls. Score free drinks."

"Absolutely not! That's... no place for civilians!"

"Civilian?"

I smirked, squeezed her ass again.

"Ahk!"

"Still look like one to you?"

"N-no, but..."

Eyes averted, voice shrinking.

"S-so... I got a question too."

"Shoot."

"What's your deal? Who the hell are you?"

"Deal? You called me a bum before."

"That was just—anyway, you're no bum!"

Swallowed hard.

"Messed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with my mana circuit, that power..."

Gaze swept my arms, chest. Remembering how I pinned and ravaged her.

Truth? No clue why she was that weak. Corruption desire, probably. Best guess.

"You're... a villain, right? Supporter type!"

"Hm?"

Unexpected word.

"Villain?"

"You are! Explains it. No way a D-grade like me gets overpowered that easy!"

Logic held up.

Civilian beats magical girl? Impossible. Had to be pro or equivalent power.

Conclusion: mana-circuit criminal.

Sharp.

Not supporter, but close. Nebula grunt counts as villain.

"Dunno."

"Don't lie. I felt it. Your dick... scorching hot. Full of mana."

Face flushed again.

Dick heat = mana? Whatever. Eyes dead serious. Wary, but convinced.

I pondered.

Deny? Nah. Lean into the misunderstanding. She wouldn't buy denial anyway.

I grinned; she took it as yes, shoulders hunching.

"Haa... knew it."

Sighed, shook head.

"Please, just leave a normie like me alone."

"Normie? You?"

"Yes! Lowly civil servant, doing orders for a paycheck. Not worth a magical girl-hunting villain's time."

"Don't interest you? Harsh."

I pinned her to the wall.

"We're real interested in each other, no?"

Face close, her breath hitched. Lashes trembled.

"Where's the meet?"

"N-no..."

"Spill. Or it's round two right here."

She shuddered at that.

"Nearby bar..."

"How many?"

"Th-three."

"Including you?"

"Y-yes..."

Jackpot. Prime chance for new targets. Fresh cert hot off the press too.

Whipped it up during downtime.

Not legit, of course. Fake-as-fuck, unregistered. Cross-check DB, busted.

But for now? Fine. Offline party, it'll pass.

No one questions certs at casual drinks. Can't verify on spot anyway.

"Cool. I'm coming."

"What? No! I said no!"

"No tag-along, we start round two here."

Hand slid to inner thigh. Fingers under hotpants hem—she grabbed my wrist in panic.

"C-coming together's a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no-go!"

Her yell echoed. Near-tears plea: anything but friends spotting me.

"Why? Embarrassed by me?"

"Not that—friends...! Not your place. Please."

Eyes wavered. I twisted her wrist free, wiggled fingers inside.

"What now. I'm so bored."

"Haa..."

Deep sigh. Glanced around. Empty hall, but risky.

Lips bit in resolve.

"I-I'll do it."

"Huh?"

"With my hands! Or, uh, mouth... so..."

Face tomato-red. Eyes on my feet, mumbling low.

"That settles it. Please, just today."

Mouth only?

I chuckled, nodded to emergency exit.

"Then, over there."

"Huh?"

"Stairs. No one's there."

Emergency stairs. Open space—anyone could come up or down.

"N-no way..."

Her face paled to blue.