Muscle Freak Prison and the Reluctant Beauty Trap
Ugh~ I'm a total hot girl, and I'm a planner at heart. Plan A bombed, so now I'm sitting here like a dummy amid these suit-wearing muscle freaks who could probably bench-press 500 kilos without breaking a sweat. Meanwhile, I'm frantically brainstorming Plans B and C in real-time to slip away from these sweaty gym rat guards.
For the record, Plan A was "Get out of the room quick before anyone shows up."
After agonizing for ages, I came up with three genius plans. One: Pretend to hit the bathroom and bolt. Two: Seduce the muscle freaks with my charms and bolt. Three: Just overpower them with brute force and bolt.
Truth is, the first one already flopped. I said I was going to the bathroom, and they tailed me right to the women's entrance, standing guard. Fine, I saw that coming. But no good escape window in sight—total bust.
A teleport spell would fix everything, but sadly, it's advanced stuff. Normally, my partner Laurus borrows my mana to handle high-level magic for me. Think math: Teleport requires crunching complex equations and trig functions in seconds. I'm basic arithmetic at best, but Laurus is like my engineering calculator—it does the math and spits out the answer.
Sounds like I'm slave-driving poor Laurus, right? But hey, you gotta know how to use a fancy calculator for it to matter. Laurus only listens to me anyway. That's how I've lasted this long. Gear carry, basically?
Plan Two: Beauty trap. Bottom line? I just don't wanna. Sure, I've lived more years as a girl than a guy, but deep down, I'm still a dude. Me, batting my lashes at these meatheads? I'd sooner punch 'em all out and stroll free. Macho man and macho woman here—I can't stomach it.
Plan Three: With One and Two dead in the water, elimination points straight there. But it's risky—easy now, headaches later. Violence? Not an option. Not in Korea, where even counter-punching after getting hit first lands assault charges on both sides.
I cautiously glanced back at the muscle freaks looming behind me.
““““……””””
Their rugged faces were flushed, sneaking peeks at me. Sigh…… Beauty trap would totally work, huh?
The faint mana wisps around them screamed "not civilians." Manageable, but this is their home turf. Knock 'em out, and boom—every awakener in the building turns enemy. Way too big a mess.
Reconsider Plan Two? Suck up a quick hit to my pride, escape clean—no casualties, smooth as silk.
I turned slowly, facing the muscle freaks behind me. "Um……"
"Yes! What can we do for you?"
Suddenly, my tongue's glued shut. Damn, I've never actually tried a beauty trap before? Back in that world, guys swarmed me without effort—I never chased. Hell, I was the one charming girls.
Hmm…… Flash some cleavage and do that cute little tongue thing? Nah—one shot only. Overdo it, and I look like easy pickings; they get suspicious. Can't think like a guy on this. Men's idea of seduction is cheap and backfires hard. Guys lose it over a girl's unintentional moves.
Do it from a woman's angle. But 200 years as a chick or not, I'm wired guy. My "womanly instincts" top out at makeup. Asking me to channel siren vibes now? Like telling a toddler to sprint.
Ughhh……! But to bust out of this, I gotta force it! Slay that buried male ego and unleash the inner vixen!!
"You okay? If you're feeling off, I'll call the med team right—"
They started fretting as I stewed in silence. No more stalling. Summon the femme fatale!!
Gurgle~
"Uh… I skimped on dinner, and my stomach's…… starving?"
My appetite straight-up curb-stomped any lust in that instant. Pure instinct.
Hunter Management Bureau Situation Room.
This space was meant for tracking major ops and routine crises, but today? Total chaos. The usual calm vibe? Shattered.
"Where the hell is she now?!!"
"S-Still pinpointing, sir!!"
"Pull up every CCTV from Pohang-to-Seoul highway—main screen, now!!"
The deputy chief was nursing a throbbing headache from the sudden crisis piled on two weeks of overtime. No wonder—Yoo Ji-na, who'd been radio silent, was headed here.
An S-rank hunter dropping by? Big news, usually welcome. But Ji-na? Everyone freaked for a reason.
Two years back, she stormed in out of nowhere. Folks thought it was her first visit post-S-rank promo—party atmosphere. But her face? Murderous. Witnesses said she beelined for the Returnee Management Division without a word.
By the time staff arrived? Bloodbath. Turns out, her missing sister—officially a gate disappearance—had been marked dead without her knowing.
"How the hell?!" Ji-na demanded. They claimed it was already processed when checked—no tampering. She snapped. Every guard and hunter in the building tried stopping her. Futile against an S-rank.
Mass investigation followed. Traced the death cert to her uncle—Bureau security staff. Easy server access. He'd filed for the life insurance under a proxy and faked the death.
Bureau beefed up security and staff training to prevent repeats. But trust? Gone. Apologies fell on deaf ears—just icy rage.
"Deputy Chief! Main screen up!"
Live highway feeds flickered on the massive display. Ten minutes in, a sports car blurred past like a movie chase.
"That was her, right?!! Where now?!!"
"Uh…… n-near Meeting Plaza……"
"………?! What bullshit is that?!! It's been under an hour since contact!! Already there?!!!"
"Well, the car she's in is a limited B-Company model from France, targeted at awakeners. Swapped fuel tank for mana-fusion—tops out at 520 km/h—"
"Ji-hye…… that's not what the deputy chief asked."
Blood pressure spiking, he seriously pondered early retirement.
What even is a 'late-night snack'?
You already had dinner—last meal of the day—and still chow down late? Sinfully indulgent. Classics: pizza, chicken, pork hocks via delivery.
So why the hell are two slabs of chicken breast staring back at me?
"Can't leave our post long per regs," they said, handing over their snacks. Proud as punch. But I don't want muscle gains—I need food to fill the tank.
Escape's toast, but I figured tasty grub at least. Didn't see this betrayal coming.
Asking for food as a suspect? Shameless, yeah. But plain, unsalted smoked chicken breast? Really?
Glance back—beaming faces. Mine sours; they notice, faces fall, whispering.
"Dude…… should've gone black pepper or honey garlic, not plain……!"
"We ate all that—this was left……!"
It's not flavor—it's the damn choice! These gym rats are fueling my breakout urge.
Resigned, I reach for the chicken—
―――――!!
Shouts and stomps from outside, closing in. Getting louder.
BAM—!
Door flies open like it'll shatter. In strides a woman, eyes darting frantically. Black crop top, skinny jeans. Killer proportions—not quite my league, but model-ready. Spitting image of my big sis, Yoo Ji-na.