Compromise - 5
The alcohol vanished in an instant. Despite its potency, Karin knocked it back relentlessly.
"Same stuff?"
"Yeah, if you're buying, I'm super grateful! I prefer sake to whiskey, but liquor this good? Doesn't matter!"
The moment we stepped outside, Yukiko was waiting right there in front of me.
"Ah."
Come to think of it, I'd shoved the women waiting for me—including Yukiko—out of the room while I lost track of time chatting with Karin.
"Here you are."
Yukiko lightly pulled another bottle of the same liquor from the cart beside her and handed it to me with care.
"Those people who were waiting..."
"I've taken care of it. No one will use this room again. Please, converse comfortably, the two of you."
"Ha... thanks, as always."
Yukiko's thoughtfulness embarrassed me yet again, but right now, I wanted to keep hearing Karin's story. I headed back into the room and refilled her glass.
"But surely you could do more than bodyguard work in Japan?"
"Way more. It's not like no one was looking for me, either..."
Karin slowly lifted her glass.
"You know, one day? The disciples who'd left for the city came back. I was so thrilled I cracked open the sake I'd been saving, and the whole village threw a welcome party."
"That's... good news."
"It should have been. It was supposed to be good..."
Karin couldn't muster a smile. Her face had flushed a little from the booze.
"Then they casually suggested the city had some gun regulations in place, so swordsmen like us might find work. I... foolishly bought it."
"Gangsters?"
"They were good people at first. During training, they'd say, 'Let's stick together as fellow lady students,' comfort each other, encourage one another. But..."
It was obvious. 'No one learns swordsmanship for fun' was just another way of saying 'Only people who need it for non-fun reasons bother learning it.'
Her strength was formidable, but the only thing it was good for was taking from others.
"At first, they said some nasty outfit was shaking down merchants—let's chase 'em off. Then it was a crooked merchant hogging the local shops—teach him a lesson. I believed them. That gang and the merchants really were scum."
Sweat beaded on her taut abs—maybe the alcohol's heat, even though the room wasn't that warm.
"But our dojo folks were doing the exact same shit. Cornering the market, collecting protection money. Selling drugs... I was the idiot."
"..."
"Wanna know the dumbest part? They were making filthy money, but they sent it all back to the village. All of 'em had families there."
Karin leaned against my shoulder. Her breath carried the scent of liquor.
"So I told the kids to pack their shit and head home. Stuck a sword to their throats... sobbing that if they didn't, I'd slaughter every last one and off myself too."
"But did you really have to become a slave? I got no right to say it, but... don't you want to live free?"
Karin stretched languidly. Her bare clavicle and navel stood out even more sharply.
"Owners can do anything to slaves—except kill 'em."
"Sure, I want freedom... but I've lived free for over twenty years already?"
Her expression was much brighter than before, but even that smile looked a little forlorn now.
"The sword didn't let me hit every goal, but I accomplished enough to feel satisfied with myself."
Was freedom the kind of thing you could say you'd 'enjoyed enough of, so it's fine to give up now'?
I couldn't relate to her choice.
"If your owner forces you into something, it could be way worse than what your disciples pulled."
"Still, if someone's gotta do the dirty work, better it's me. I'm the one responsible for our dojo—for our village. I can't play the good girl and hang back. I've gotta own it."
I just stared at Karin in silence. She took a sip, our eyes met, and she snorted a little.
"W-what? Don't make it awkward! Quit looking at me like some pitiful stray!"
Only then did I force a smile. In front of someone as proud as her, even pity could wound.
"Ah, no! Wait—your name's... Seongha? Seongha, you think I'm pitiful too? Thinking about it, yeah, I kinda am!"
Karin scooted closer, all initiative. Her black ponytail swayed like a puppy's happy tail wag.
"If Seongha buys me, I bet I wouldn't have to do bad shit—or take any beatings?"
If I just treated Karin right, living here in Korea might even beat heading back to her village. Plenty of folks there must depend on her—it was obvious.
Maybe I could help her set that burden down. Seeing her smile at me so warmly like this, the thought of her returning to dangerous Japan made me uneasy. She wouldn't fall to random thugs, but women die from bullets all the same.
"Or am I not quite enough? Makes sense—bodyguarding a guy? Shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. If I'd known, I'd have dolled up my makeup more."
Even from my view, Karin was an outstanding woman. Sure, disappointing she couldn't handle guns as a bodyguard, but with her gripping a sword alongside Yukiko or Mikoto, what was there to worry about?
Her long, sinewy legs you could feel the muscle in. Her chiseled abs. Her breasts, firm yet insistently present. All beautiful. And what breathed life into it was her bold, unhesitating attitude. Those fiery eyes and her hearty laugh put me more at ease than anything.
"We'll take you."
"Oh, I got picked? Yes! Thanks!"
A woman like Karin—strong enough to cut down men—selling her body just because she was short a few bucks. The yen had truly hit rock bottom.
The cash she needed to support a whole village? Pathetic in won. I was dead certain that village's monthly living expenses cost less than this one bottle we'd drunk.
"I'm the one who's grateful..."
Yukiko, Mikoto, Karin. Such precious women selling themselves for absurdly low prices. You couldn't put a price on a person, so whatever they asked would always feel insultingly cheap.
It was sadder when you thought about it: people flocked to where they could sell themselves highest. Somewhere, the most beautiful entered beauty pageants; elsewhere, they became idols or models. Right now, in East Asia outside Korea, a beauty's best bet to sell highest was becoming a slave.
Maybe even buying her at a premium price would affirm Karin's worth. Tragic that her godlike swordsmanship had sunk to being purchasable for cash, but I had to do what I could.
"The others are probably waiting outside. Time to go."
"Yeah! Looking forward to it, Master!"
Karin thrust her hand out straight ahead. I hesitated a moment, then tentatively offered mine. She gripped it tight and pumped vigorously.
/////
"Welcome home, Oppa?"
The second I walked in, Mikoto came bounding out. Her already petite frame looked even tinier as she bowed, folding in half at the waist.
"You good, Mikoto?"
"Yeah! Oppa too... ah, her..."
Karin, spotting Mikoto, couldn't tear her eyes away even as she slipped off her shoes.
"Yeah. New slave I brought home today—Karin. Hey, Karin? This is Mikoto. My slave, just like you."
Karin cocked her head, kicked off her shoes, planted a hand on her thigh, and bent low to match Mikoto's eye level. Watching from behind, I had no idea where to look. Her ass—smaller than Yukiko's, maybe, but stretched her jeans to the bursting point. Her exposed back, navel-baring, rippled with every muscle.
"So, uh, Mikoto too... did the thing?"
Mikoto's face scrunched up.
"You asking if I just fucked Oppa? Of course I did! Don't look down on me just 'cause you're taller! I'm the senior slave here!"
But Mikoto's outburst didn't faze Karin one bit. Straightening up at 'Of course!', she turned to me.
"Wait, does that mean he's... pe..."
"No! She just looks young—she's a full adult!"
"L-lies!"
I scrambled to pivot the topic, but Mikoto's damage had already exceeded critical.
"O-Oppa? Should I... get the height surgery?"
"Mikoto's cute as is—grow a few centimeters, you'll still be cute."
"Th-then boob enlargement?"
"Yours are plenty big already."
I pulled Mikoto into a tight hug and stroked her soothingly. What I hadn't considered: no bra. Our massive height gap. And my dick standing at attention from Karin's weird pose moments ago.
"Still... Mikoto's body turns Oppa on, right?"
Her breasts jiggled, brushing my cock ever so lightly. Not much stimulation, but sudden—and feeling the sheer size of those tits? Pretty damn exciting.
"Of course."
"Yay, so glad!"
Mikoto beamed, satisfied. I somehow defused the situation and watched Yukiko show Karin to her room.
Contrary to my guess that she wouldn't care about fashion, her clothes were surprisingly varied. Leather jacket, jeans, white tees, crop tops, leggings, tracksuits, even a dobok—all neatly packed into her new wardrobe.
The last thing Karin pulled from her bag: a transparent bottle of clear liquid. She glanced my way and gave it a casual shake.
No words needed. I knew it was booze.