Singularity (19) - Part 1
"Yeah, we should've stopped at just a few drinks..."
A sigh escaped him naturally in this situation—commonly known as dealing with a completely wasted Go Yu-jin. He'd hoisted her up and was now exiting the bar. Her place was a luxury home nearby. No live-in manager, she lived alone, though relatives occasionally dropped by to check on her. He himself lived not far from her, so he planned to drop her off on the way and call it a night.
"Hehe... feels so good..."
She started humming drowsily, like sleep-talking. It sounded like an old idol song from years back. As he walked on, absorbing her drunken ramblings, she suddenly spoke up.
"You know... I liked... watching people die... It was... so regrettable, so... gross... I hated it?"
She was picking up the conversation from the end of their job earlier. It must have weighed on her mind.
"Is that why you left the battlefield?"
"I... started wanting to kill people myself."
Now he understood why she'd fled like that. Her emotions had skewed. The classic case of being consumed by power, perhaps? But it wasn't just monsters on the battlefield. The term didn't solely mean gate frontlines. Awakened ones driven mad by unchecked emotions were commonplace, and national power struggles were rampant too. Territorial disputes or claims over new gates often sparked localized wars. Black mages were sent to those fields disproportionately often. Their power was potent and brutal, perfect for intimidation, and even if a powerful black mage didn't shine in battle, they made convenient scapegoats for any mishaps. Governments loved shoving all blame onto one person as a loophole. Expulsions or exploitation in such cases were routine.
'They guarantee massive profits, sure, but dumping responsibility like that is one reason it all gets so tiresome.'
Indeed, many black mages endured that hell, grabbed their big payout, and retired. The real issue came after: mental fatigue and emotional glitches sent them wandering back to battlefields or causing incidents. Governments outsourced handling those cases to folks like him. Blood washed away with more blood, over and over.
'Yu-jin hasn't taken those jobs yet, but someday she won't be able to avoid them.'
Such kill orders poured in even now. Plenty criticized the government for it, but paradoxically, only they could handle it. People turned a blind eye, applying subtle pressure if ignored. Justice crumbled under power; power became justice. The current regime persisted because early power-holders had centralized authority to act decisively amid chaos. Concentrating strength on problem-solvers made sense then—and those who craved it anyway. Right or wrong aside, it was the natural order.
"I... did the right thing, right?"
"Of course. You did great. Now sleep."
"Hehe... Okay!"
With a bright, innocent smile, she buried her face in his shoulder. He headed to her house, unlocked the door effortlessly, and carried her to the bedroom. Using mana, he cast Psychokinesis to lay her gently on the bed. Maybe because they'd gone straight to the bar after work, she was still in her work clothes? Even if she'd cast Clean herself, some nagging compulsion made him channel mana anyway, applying the spell to her body right then.
"Nngh...!"
As the mana swept over her, she let out a soft moan. He froze in surprise.
'...Sensitive skin, huh.'
Some people flinched just from mana touch. He figured she was one of them. Clean scrubbed away dirt and secretions with intense mana contact, after all. Now he got why she'd refused before—and realized she'd endured it silently out of embarrassment. Guilt welled up. He'd be more careful next time. As he turned to leave the room—
"...Don't go."
Her voice stopped him. Glancing back, Go Yu-jin stared at him with open eyes. Her face was flushed deep red; clearly, this wasn't a normal state. He met her gaze.
"Rest. We've got a busy day tomorrow."
"...Don't you like me?"
"I do. But not like this."
She was his boss—the president. Even if offered on a platter, he couldn't touch that without qualms. She was undeniably alluring, famous for her beauty. Her figure was so beyond normal it bordered on untouchable.
'Objectively, turning her down seems miraculous...'
But he had no hobby of taking advantage of a blackout-drunk woman. Better step back than become a scoundrel in an emotional haze. Yet, as if reading his mind, she sat up, swaying, and unleashed her mana. It flooded the room instantly, slamming the door shut as he reached for it. He tugged, but her control was precise and dense—unthinkable for someone so plastered. Breaking it would take time.
'No wonder 1st Gen have their reputation...'
She staggered toward him, their eyes locking. Her gaze brimmed with inexplicable madness. He spoke cautiously.
"You'll regret it."
"Maybe... leaving will make you regret more...?"
"You're talking casual now?"
"You're my oppa anyway, right?"
"Ha, so you're ditching the boss act too?"
"Oppa it is, whatever..."
She didn't seem blackout drunk anymore. More like using the buzz to steer things. He sighed, eyeing her.
"Can't take responsibility."
"Don't wanna...?"
"Then open the door."
"I'll take responsibility... That good enough?"
That wasn't the point.
"This is tricky."
His words faltered in fluster. She smiled, then mana surged, binding him in place. It felt like Paralyze. True to a black mage, she wielded curses effortlessly. Whatever she planned, he wouldn't go down easy. He channeled his own mana, decoding and dispelling her pattern in a flash.
But that wasn't her real aim. She closed the gap in an instant, lunging into his arms. With his lacking physical prowess against her brawler build, he couldn't shake her off.
Thud!
She hugged his waist tight, peering up innocently.
"Gotcha... Hehe."
She looked utterly lovable like this, but why go this far? A sudden realization hit.
"It's the Clean, isn't it?"
"Hoo... Think about it. Every day... feels like being caressed all over. How could I hold out...?"
He'd seriously messed up. Sighing, he replied.
"I'll be careful next time. Let me off?"
"Nope?"
His nose was pierced—hook, line, sinker. For a woman like Go Yu-jin, that meant life success. He scratched his head, nodding at last.
She sprang up.
"I'm serious. You gotta take responsibility?"
"One thing first."
"What?"
"Casual or formal speech."
"Nah?"
She grabbed his hand, dragging him to the bed. Was this fate since joining the company three months ago? Or the fruits of his lecherous Clean? Either way, boss trouble on night one.
She led him there, soon shedding clothes lightly. Staring up, words failed him. He'd known her long battlefield history, but scars littered her body starkly.
"Too much?"
Her face flushed as she looked down. If "too much" meant her scars, he shook his head. He reached up tentatively, tracing wounds on her arm and torso.
"Must've hurt."
"Didn't feel it then. Excitement numbs that, huh?"
Her words were surprisingly clear, so he asked outright.
"Faking drunk?"
"I was drunk. Still am... but excitement cleared my head some."
Amusing. He propped up, facing her. Their eyes tangled; her blush deepened.
"Didn't think it'd escalate this far."
"Don't want to? No problem."
In her underwear, she seemed ready to back off, but he continued.
"Tomorrow, sober, you might regret it."
"I've seen it all on the battlefield. You too, probably. We all thought we might die tomorrow, so everything got permitted easily."
As she said, chaos reigned: casual hookups ignoring stares, perverts fighting half-naked and erect, public defecation mid-crisis. He'd handled business mid-battle too when fights dragged. Bodily functions were merciless. Maybe that's why he obsessed over Clean.
"At first, I thought they were crazy, couldn't understand. Then suddenly, I got it and joined in."
"This isn't the same as that, though?"
"Seong-chan, say 'fuck'?"
"Don't you mean T-sound?"
"Nope?"
He chuckled in disbelief; she grinned too. Abruptly, her arms wrapped his neck, pulling him in. Her breath reeked of alcohol—she was drunk for real. How awakeners got this wasted baffled him, but now: cross the line or not? Her words suggested room for it. Whatever.
'Plenty would curse me as a lucky bastard for landing the boss...'
Sweet scent invaded with her aroma; soft, plump lips covered his, her cute tongue slipping in. Screw it. He pulled her close, deepening the kiss. Soon, savoring shifted to greed; hands roamed freely, stoking the heat.