Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Famous Cheerleader (1)
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"Hmm."
Park Won-jun fiddled with his phone in his room.
He was digging into someone nonstop.
It was a first for him.
She's something else.
Of course, Won-jun found it plenty intriguing.
This Lee Ji-ah had hooked him hard.
Twenty-two years old.
A year younger than him, but she'd clearly hustled her whole life.
She'd made a name dancing like an idol back in high school, showed up on YouTube, and now she was a top-tier cheerleader.
Her recent YouTube vids had racked up over a million views, some of them easy.
Considering how cheerleading was basically a launchpad to celeb status in Korea these days, she'd been grinding that celebrity path doggedly from a young age.
Won-jun respected her life choices deep down.
He hadn't met her yet, but damn, she'd packed it full.
Before heading to the martial world, Won-jun had hustled too, but he hadn't known much about the world back then, so he couldn't stack up experiences like hers.
"Nice."
Won-jun grinned, satisfied.
A solid life built brick by brick, drawing eyes from guys everywhere.
Stripping away personal fondness, she was exactly his type.
Worth the effort to get her in bed and peel those clothes off.
A woman who made him want to fuck her.
For Won-jun, that was plenty.
Lately, things have felt a little lacking.
He and Park Min-ju were going strong. A few fun twists lately kept the spark alive.
But a man's got to have his home front and his outside game both locked down.
He'd chased and bedded plenty of college girls hard, but yeah, the outside scene had been missing something.
Song Hyun-ah from dance, who he'd actually liked a bit, had ghosted after one fuck—ruined or whatever—and stopped showing at school. Park Si-young was on hold.
Polish your life more. Make me want to fuck you.
He hoped she'd gotten that message. Time would tell.
Right.
Won-jun clasped his hands behind his head and stretched out on the bed.
He'd tasted overwhelming power already, watched the world kneel.
What more did he need?
Besides the thrill of banging intriguing women, nothing really grabbed him these days.
"Ah, yes! I'll do that."
Won-jun set up a visit to the Hunter Management Division.
To tackle the 40s floors, he'd need the right gear.
He didn't really need it—had gone in bare for armor, just weapons—but whatever. He'd promised to play along.
It's fine.
While Seoul Tower stalled, he could punch through Busan Tower or something.
Money piled up so high he didn't even check the balance anymore, but Won-jun kept grinding.
"Thank you so much for gracing us with your precious steps in this meaningful event!"
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Lukewarm applause. Awkward chuckles.
A charity gala at a Seoul hotel drew a crowd of celebs.
Like plenty of "charity" events that were really just networking mixers, more eyes were on the feast than the cause.
"Ahem."
Lee Ji-ah, the cheerleader fixing her lipstick and squirming in her stiff outfit, was one of them.
Tall at 170cm, with a dancer's toned body honed since her teens. And for a slim frame, those huge tits.
On dude-heavy sites, she topped best posts weekly, popping up in unrelated threads too if the title screamed "jackpot."
Big eyes, nose so high online pros mocked it as pencil-stuffed.
Surprise: aside from double eyelids, zero plastic.
"Ugh, so tiring. When's the booze?"
"What? I came for Park Jong-woo, but he's not here."
"Yaaawn."
Not just Ji-ah—Korea's top sports cheerleaders were all there.
Rush the connections, rub elbows with the semi-famous guys they'd signed up for. That was it.
Some actor coming? That male singer whose song blew up on challenges? Young entrepreneur from a variety show?
Girls on the celeb track swapped that intel nonstop.
It all boiled down to jacking up their price tag.
Endgame was set.
"..."
Ji-ah kept her seat with a practiced smile.
Cameras flashed everywhere.
In this cancel-happy era, one bad shot could tank you. Facial control was key.
"Next up, Korea's Special Hunter, Park Won-jun!"
Clap! Clap! Clap!
"Huh?"
"Oh?"
"..."
One guy hit the stage, and every cheerleader's eyes locked on.
Ji-ah, half-tuned into the event, perked up too.
"Hello, I'm Park Won-jun."
Won-jun, who'd donated big to the cause, grabbed the mic for intros.
Special Hunter plus massive pledge? He more than earned his spot.
"First time seeing a Special Hunter IRL. Regular Hunters, sure."
"He's young."
"Don't Hunters rake it in? Risky, but."
"Special ones pull at least 300, 400 mil a year, right?"
"Insane."
Their age, pulling that unreal cash? Jaw-dropping.
Of course, they didn't know he was base S-rank, eyeing 40s—double what they figured.
Special Hunters rarely mingled.
They split stark: mega-famous or total ghosts.
50s raiders, top-floor heroes saving the nation? National icons.
But mid-30s grinders? Plenty hated them.
Mana crystals and gear mats helped the country big-time, sure, but their fat cuts rubbed people raw.
Plus state protection, perks galore. Few said it loud, but resentment simmered.
So most Special Hunters dropped raid vids then vanished into rich-guy life.
Outside the Tower, just loaded randos with faces out there. Economy tanks more, mid-tiers catch heat.
Gov played it safe too—coddled the elites, lukewarm on the rest amid public gripes.
"Whoa, just checked—he hit 39 recently? I know a bit about Hunters, and that's nuts."
"For real?"
"Yeah, ex was obsessed, so I picked up stuff. At this rate, 100 mil next year easy."
"Whoa."
"Girlfriend? No ring."
The cheerleaders' table buzzed loudest.
"Hmm..."
Amid the squeals, Ji-ah snapped back cool.
No.
She wasn't there yet for guys like that.
Not some 30s CEO pulling 100 mil yearly—a 20s guy doing it?
No dice.
Cold celeb path meant brutal self-assessment and sharp reads for her age.
If he approached first, maybe. Her chasing? Nah. Competition would be fierce.
This was for her profile, potential links—not him.
She nodded along.
"Saw him at that soccer match, right?"
"Huh? I don't do soccer cheers."
"Your new album's killing it. Our hip-hop label does shows, biz ventures like..."
"Ah, yeah..."
Event wrapped, booze flowed.
Boring speeches done—time for the real perks.
Semi-famous types networked everywhere.
Mostly flash-in-pans from viral hits, sipping wine and champagne. Fancier Gangnam club, same game.
"Hmm."
Ji-ah brushed off a few unwanted chats. Time to bounce.
Event over, cameras gone.
No fun left.
Scrape.
She slipped up quietly. No need to announce to the other cheerleader sisters.
Not that close anyway.
Behind her: fake giggles from girls, dudes wild to cash fame into quick fucks with hotties.
She left them all.
"Excuse me..."
"Yes? Oh."
Someone called; she turned.
Recognized him—instant polite glow.
"This work?"
At the vanity mirror, 22-year-old Lee Ji-ah finalized her look.
No skin-tight dress screaming for it, but clothes hugging her killer curves perfect.
Clean white tee, slim jeans, cardigan for flair.
Simple outfit, but my body's the tease—easy excuse.
"Mwah."
Ji-ah checked her tint.
Pat pat.
Her fave perfume too.
Like a warrior geared for battle, head to toe—she was armed as a woman today.
"Hm hm hm."
Light steps out the door.
Big date ahead.
But feeling herself? Confidence surged.
Outside, she slid into the passenger seat of the foreign whip.
"I kept you waiting?"
"Nah, just got here."
"Should've come early."
"It's cool."
Park Won-jun, picking her up, flashed a friendly grin.
At the recent charity bash, he'd approached: big fan, dinner sometime?
Snagged her number.
Now, date on.
Ji-ah was trimming dead-end meets lately, so he'd locked it quick.
"For real?"
"Yeah."
"Crazy."
Won-jun eased into chat.
Ji-ah tossed her hair, covered her mouth, smiled max pretty.
"Remember this song?"
"Who doesn't? Huge hit."
Car blared a US pop track from Dec 2024.
Massive smash, dance banger known in Korea too.
"Searched YouTube—saw your dance cover. Thought, this girl's got it."
"Really? Hm."
Ji-ah smiled, nodded.
Guy's really into me.
Felt like her grind got props. Nice.
DM creeps, Insta/YouTube fanboys gushing? Just currency to her.
Only elite guys' attention mattered.
Can't fumble this.
She rated Won-jun high.
Top Special Hunter prospect. Digging deeper? Even better.
Estimated 100 mil yearly, just one year older—prime youth.
Status, cash: jackpot ticket.
Smart young women like her had to snag these rare shots.
Him approaching first? Leave it, some other chick swipes.
"Hotel buffets your thing?"
"Solo hotel meals feel like vacays sometimes. Can't travel for work, haha."
"Totally, hotels got that vibe."
Ji-ah eye-smiled, stroked his ego.
Hmm, first date though?
Hotel? Eat, hit a cafe, done.
No sex on meet one. Could be body-only, one-night hunt. Still wore cute lingerie.
"..."
Won-jun side-eyed Ji-ah.
She knew how to doll up—pretty face, god-tier body. Outer checks: pass.
He'd known she'd be at the gala.
To sell prior interest: claimed love for a pop song he barely knew, lied about her cover.
Her quick yes? Long game viable, deep bond potential.
No.
Don't bend convictions.
Today. Tonight.
Won-jun resolved: bed this 400k-follower cheerleader by night's end.