Chapter 120
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: Lunch with Sis
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"......Sis. Did I do something wrong?"
"Why? Got a guilty conscience?"
Sis tapped the mat on the floor with her foot, then bumped her gloved fists together to check the feel.
"No...... There has to be a reason for this."
"Reason? You need a reason to beat the crap out of you?"
"Of course you do!"
I'm a person too!
You can't just hit people for no reason!
Even with a reason, you shouldn't hit them!
Something had flared up in Sis again.
Sis's condition—what we called Little Brother Battery Syndrome.
The inexplicable urge to suddenly beat up your little brother.
Right now, I was facing off against her in the fitness room, and she was dressed in an outfit that poked right at my trauma.
Bra top up top, leggings down below.
Both hugging her body tight, so my eyes were thrilled.
That part was fine, but......
Open-finger gloves on her hands.
Headgear strapped on.
She was brimming with the intent to pummel me.
I had my gear on too, but...
Not because I wanted to.
I'm an actor now—taking bare-faced hits would be a disaster.
"You know the rules, right?"
"Nah."
Of course I knew them.
No rules, no fouls, no time limit.
Until the opponent surrendered or went down.
I'd played dumb just to stall for time.
Maybe Sis would get too annoyed explaining and call it quits.
But she wasn't the type to fall for that cheap trick.
"Oh yeah? You'll remember after a few hits. Fight!"
She charged right in.
I guarded my face first thing.
She saw my guard up and went for the body.
Thud. Thud.
I blocked the sides with my arms, but my abs took the hit.
It hurt.
"Don't worry! I won't hit your face—drop the guard!"
A hook flew straight at my face the second she said it.
Her words and actions were total opposites.
I barely dodged by snapping my head back.
"Ooh~ Not bad?"
The moment she stepped back, I tried talking again.
"Sis, do you even know how much you're worth and you're pulling this?"
"Better than you do."
"What if you get hurt?"
"Hmph. You gonna hurt me? Go ahead, give it a shot!"
"Ugh."
My plea had backfired and pissed her off instead.
A one-two combo came straight for my face.
I blocked with my hands.
"You said no face!"
"You won't die from that."
"It's not about dying!"
"Don't wanna get hit? Then knock me down already."
Knock down Sis? Me?
The memory that flashed in my head was a nightmare.
The time I'd lost it and beaten her bloody until she passed out.
She'd spent nearly a month in the hospital after that.
Couldn't even swing a golf club, obviously.
Luckily, she passed her pro test after discharge, but if she hadn't, I'd have lived as a sinner forever.
Even after that, she'd acted like nothing happened and demanded I be her "fight play" partner.
Whether it was payback for the hospital trip or just stress relief, I had no idea.
She brushed it off like it was nothing, but for me—the one who'd thrown the punches—it left a trauma.
I couldn't even think about hitting her during spars.
I'd just take the one-sided beating until I tapped out.
We didn't do it often, but about once a month, she'd insist.
Things had been quiet lately, so I'd let my guard down.
Guess her condition had flared up again.
"Whew."
I let out a deep sigh and dropped into a fighting stance.
Bouncing lightly in place, stepping side to side.
"Ooh~ Finally in the mood?"
"Not really."
I gave it some thought.
Why was Sis suddenly doing this?
For a pure workout? No way.
Just to hit me? Nah.
'She wants me to legally hit her back.'
That was my conclusion.
Dirty work, stuff she hated, humiliating things.
Sis got off on that, so it wasn't weird if she'd leveled up to craving actual hits.
She already loved getting her ass smacked during sex, after all.
But could I actually hit Sis?
The childhood trauma had faded some.
I'm not a kid anymore, and I wouldn't lose control like back then.
But that didn't mean I could hit her without a second thought.
Still, I had to.
After learning about her kink, I'd looked up stuff on it myself.
To understand Sis better.
Her tendencies leaned toward masochism.
Getting sexual thrill from physical or mental pain—classic masochistic tastes.
People like that unconsciously demand a partner for it. If their boyfriend can't satisfy that urge, they'll seek someone else.
Someone else to "submit" them.
That could never happen.
Sis getting hit and loving it by some other guy?
I had to prevent that at any cost.
So if she wanted to get hit, I had to be the one hitting.
But Sis was a world-class pro golfer now.
Her body had a value I couldn't even fathom.
No injuries allowed. Period.
Especially her face.
And joints, limbs, muscles—anywhere that could mess with her performance.
......So, nowhere?
"What're you waiting for? Come at me."
She taunted me from her boxing stance.
Where could I even hit?
Belly? Sides?
That was it, probably.
"Hup."
I faked a left to her face first.
She guarded.
But it was a feint.
Right straight to her gut.
Thud.
Ah. It landed.
"Ah."
A little gasp slipped from Sis's lips.
She really hadn't expected me to hit her?
Her eyes went wide in shock.
I backed off fast, bracing for the counter.
Sis wasn't the type to just take a hit.
She might even charge in blind with rage.
──Or so I thought.
"Th-this......"
She took one step forward.
Then dropped to her knees on the mat.
"Sis!"
My heart plummeted.
I rushed over to her.
"Sis! You okay?!"
Just from that?
Was she faking it?
The thought crossed my mind, but Sis would never kneel—even as a joke.
People had died from accidentally hitting a vital spot during play fights.
Unlikely here, but lingering pain could screw up her next tournament.
"......You hit kinda hard? Ugh."
She groaned, clutching her side where it landed.
"Does it hurt bad? Should I call 119?"
"Don't overreact, you idiot."
Thud.
She smacked my head.
But it didn't hurt at all.
I'd unconsciously figured 'Sis can take this much.'
I wasn't trained in fighting or numb to pain.
She was just that tough.
Sis dusted herself off and stood up.
Was she really fine?
I worried she was just acting strong in front of me.
As if mocking my concern, she dropped back into fighting stance.
"Keep going."
"Huh?"
"What else? We're not done."
"You wanna keep this up?"
I was floored.
It was pointless anyway.
Unless I let her win on purpose, she had zero chance.
That one exchange proved it.
"I told you. Until someone goes down or taps."
"You went down!"
"Hmph. Quit yapping and come at me!"
Low kick from Sis.
I lifted my leg to block.
It stung, but her power was sapped.
Proof the hit was still affecting her.
I scrambled back.
"You run, I'll chase you to the ends of the earth!"
I knew her personality.
Running wouldn't solve a thing.
So what now?
Actually knock her out? Ridiculous.
Pretend to go down myself? Only saw a tangled mess ahead.
"Sis! Time-out!"
"What?"
Good. Time-outs worked.
"Not 'fight play'—let's do 'wrestling play'!"
"Wrestling? What're you on about?"
"Hitting hurts. Can't have bruises, so wrestling instead."
It was a desperate ploy.
To end this dumb game, I'd have to submit her.
But I had zero real grappling skills.
Forcing it could cause some collision injury.
This was to minimize that risk, at least.
"Pervert. Bet you're scheming to get handsy again."
"......Well, if I pin you down, who knows."
I had a gut feeling as I said it.
This would definitely hook her.
"But if you pin me, no dice."
I said it while peeling off my gloves.
I was dead certain she'd go for it.
"Sounds fun. Let's do it."
She followed suit, ditching her gloves.
"But we gotta be careful—no injuries."
"Deal. You're an actor now, so I'll watch myself too."
She talked like she didn't even consider losing.
Even Sis couldn't beat a guy.
No matter her natural athletic gifts.
No proper fight or wrestling training.
And I wasn't some weakling.
Loss was obvious, yet she acted like she'd win.
"Ah."
"? What's up?"
There it was.
I figured out why she was doing this despite knowing she'd lose.
She wanted to strut out all cocky and strong, only to get humiliatingly crushed.
To submit to the opponent she'd dismissed as a joke.
It all clicked—every mystery about Sis.
"......Eureka."
"What're you muttering?"
I got her now.
"If I win, I'll strip you bare and string you up."
"......Go easy on that one."
No way she actually wanted that, right?
Even so, couldn't happen.
Couldn't let anyone else see her like that.
Sis was mine.
Off came the headgear.
We faced off bare-handed, no protection.
"Alright—go!"
The word barely left her mouth before she dropped low and charged.
Shoulder aimed at my gut to drive me down.
I braced my core and legs.
Stumbled one step back, but countered right away.
Grabbed her arm, hooked her leg, and dumped her.
"Eut!"
Thud.
She hit the mat.
I mounted up, pinning both her arms to the mat so she couldn't move.
"Haa, haa."
She strained to pull her arms free.
No give.
I just looked down at her for a moment.
"What? This wrestling?"
She snapped at me, pissed, for just holding her down.
I hadn't realized it before.
Even angry, Sis was a knockout.
"Yeah."
I leaned down and kissed those lips.
Mm.
Lips met, then parted.
I popped up quick and backed off.
"......You're dead."
Sis shot up from the mat, face flushed beet red with fury.
But I was cool as ice.
Stepping light and easy, waiting for her lunge.
Right on cue, she barreled straight in.
Like an enraged bull.
If she was the bull, I was the matador.
Dodged the tackle, and as her ass sailed past—
Smack!
Right on the palm.
"Kyaa!"
The leggings clinging to her made the impact even crisper than bare skin.
"Hey! Jin Sun-hu! You gonna play for real or not?!"
Sis was on the verge of exploding.
And so was my dick.
I knew it.
She was pretending to be mad, but the real emotion underneath was mostly embarrassment.
Haha. Who knew playing with Sis could be this fun?
Wish I'd figured it out sooner.