Gazes of Contempt and Envy
The gazes directed at slaves varied slightly depending on the person or age group. Young women looking at foreign slaves mixed contempt and disgust with envy. They'd built up impressive specs for sex, polished themselves to perfection, then leveraged school ties or hometown connections to get close to men. Those without such lines desperately tried to forge them. If they heard a man played RPGs, they'd claw their way into his guild; if he enjoyed board games, they'd join the club no matter what. Even his most mundane SNS posts drew floods of comments—they were pitiable, frantic. To them, slaves were cowards who stole cocks without effort, just for being poor foreigners.
Older women were different. They'd long given up on sex themselves and clung to pre-war notions. Their disdain for foreigners wasn't much changed. Only the flavor of their scorn differed—the reasons for hating slaves, the slurs they spat. Like falling back on classic, traditional insults: calling them whores. Raw revulsion at selling one's body, that was their brand of hate.
I glared murderously at the middle-aged woman who'd spat venom at Yukiko.
"S-sorry! I had no idea you were actually serving a real man..."
"Is that the point right now? Can you repeat what you just said? Right in front of me? What you called my woman?"
"I was wrong, I really didn't know..."
The shopkeeper rubbed her hands together, begging forgiveness, but she only looked repulsive to me.
"What, you didn't know and said it anyway? Called her someone who... sells her body."
I couldn't bring myself to spit out the word whore.
"No, Master. It was my fault. I'll apologize to her, so please wait just a moment..."
Yukiko tried to downplay it, but I couldn't let it slide.
"Apologize. Right now, lady."
"I'm sorry..."
"Not to me—to Yukiko."
The shopkeeper bowed to Yukiko with groveling obsequiousness.
"No need. I'm the one truly sorry... Master. Let's go—plenty of eyes on us."
The stares from the line of waiting customers bored into us. I led Yukiko away from there.
We walked a bit and spread a mat under a suitable patch of grass. Even as Yukiko unpacked the lunchbox, she watched me like a criminal gauging her judge.
"Me getting angry was totally justified. Don't apologize for it."
"...Her words were rude, yes. But I was the one who acted rudely first."
"What do you mean?"
"I insisted on being served ahead because I had to attend to you, ignoring the waiting customers."
Her words left me speechless. I'd meant to comfort her no matter what, but I'd never imagined she was actually in the wrong.
"Uh... yeah, that was a mistake."
I'd never pictured Yukiko pulling something like that.
"Why'd you do it?"
"...Embarrassing, but I was impatient. Because of my unscheduled service and collapsing to lust, I'd wasted your precious time, Master. I wanted to make up for it somehow..."
"Sigh..."
"You refused several times, but I insisted on tipping extra and forced it. That's when she snapped. Punish me."
I hated seeing Yukiko so dejected. Still, I had to lay out my thoughts clearly now.
"I thought we'd grown close, learned about each other. Right?"
"I'm sorry..."
"Sorry to make a big deal over a simple errand, but... I really like you, Yukiko. No matter what you do to me, I'd forgive anything."
I pulled her bowed head into a tight embrace. Even in this heavy mood, the curve of her lower back felt incredible under my hands.
"So feel free to be selfish, make mistakes with me—whatever. What you've given me outweighs it all. Delaying lunch by a bit? That's not even an inconvenience."
"An honor beyond my station..."
"But wrongs against others? I can't forgive those for you."
A faint, quiet sniffle escaped Yukiko.
"If you turn into that kind of 'bad person,' I might feel guilty for loving and protecting you. I'd still do it, but it'd hurt me deep."
Yukiko was wise; she'd understand whatever I said straight.
"I get it."
"Good. Let's eat. Insulated box kept it warm."
I fed her a roll of kimbap. She blushed in surprise but chewed slowly, savoring it.
A bit cooled, but the picnic felt nice enough. Lounging on the mat, breeze in our faces, admiring Yukiko—no room for boredom.
After dumping cleanup on Yukiko, I returned alone to the chicken skewer stall. The line had thinned; most had left. The moment I appeared, the shopkeeper slammed her head down in apology.
"I-I'm truly sorry! It won't happen again! I never dreamed a slave serving a real man..."
"Yukiko told me she acted rudely first."
That didn't justify the abuse she'd hurled. But I wasn't blameless for not investigating.
"N-no! Lately, fake slaves around here cause trouble without any intention of serving a master... Your order was so small, I assumed... Fake slaves are a social problem, or so I've heard."
Even those who'd flown to Korea via official slave channels struggled—grueling process, no guarantees. Many turned to undocumented labor or crime. Even starting legit, some got stiffed by shady bosses and slid into the underworld. Anyway, acceptance into society was brutally hard. A woman cutting in line for her man? Wouldn't look pretty.
Usually, if a man was with them, the group size gave it away. Two portions? Rare. More likely one for the master alone, or bulk for his girlfriend and slaves.
"Forgive me... just once..."
Her groveling made me think she was lucky, actually. Had she not mistaken Yukiko, that rudeness would've gone unchecked. I'd have just thought, Food came quick, and enjoyed it.
Sure, a bit of power-tripping, but compared to the sins men could skate on, this was cute. Officially powerless, yet a few complaints could shutter the place. No new crimes conjured from a man's complaint, but probing for existing ones wore normals down. Lining up was common sense—yet being male let me ignore it.
That power was one reason I felt uneasy venturing out, cautious. Like someone too strong seeing everything fragile, men's authority here was too much. I could ruin lives carelessly. If Yukiko hadn't confessed later, and I'd called officials in rage...
Glad it hadn't escalated. Small mercy.
"Yukiko, how was it? Fun date?"
We'd finished up, left the park, strolled the shopping street. Crowded near the station.
"Not sure if I found things I'd enjoy, as you intended, Master."
Arm around her waist was a novel thrill. She seemed so down, so I got handsy on purpose—her slim waist and wide hips gripped perfectly.
"But being with you always makes me happy. Alone here, I'd have hated it... with you, I was glad."
"Maybe that's dating for you. Still, we'll try more—movies, games, sports. Hope you find something you enjoy."
Yukiko always thought from my angle. Convenient, pleasant for me—but hardly normal. Even in love, she needed her own joys, her own mind.
"And... thinking of the finale, even if everything till now was boring and hard to endure, it'd be fine."
Quietly, Yukiko pointed to a motel glowing with neon signs. Most pre-war motels shuttered, unprofitable. But some survived—charging men premium for top-tier service, even getting government subsidies for "promoting breeding and intercourse." That one smack in the bustling center? Pure sex den, nothing else.
I hid my excitement no better than her.
"Shall we?"
Wordless, Yukiko guided my hand on her waist a touch lower.