18. Golfing with the Young Female Assemblywoman – Bang! "Nice Shot!"
A weekday morning appointment. While others are slaving away at work, we're leisurely chasing the blue sky, and the pea-sized ball traces a perfect arc before plopping onto the green. As it lands on the meticulously maintained short grass, the surrounding caddies clap in service, and the assembly members join in with half-hearted applause.
"Wow, your skills are improving day by day."
"A real nice shot!"
"Hahaha, thanks."
Mostly middle-aged, the youngest in their early thirties. Eight adults who run the nation's affairs are gathered here. A ratio that metaphorically represents the makeup of Korea's National Assembly—mostly pot-bellied men in their fifties.
"You pick it up quick when taught, don't you?"
Amid this drab pepper field, one woman stands out with her fragrant aura. Ryu Su-a's college senior from before, elected to capture the young female vote. Assemblywoman Song Han-na.
At just 31, a National Assembly member—the pentagonal badge gleams even on her golf wear. After that meeting, I checked her resume, and damn, what a packed life. She graduated early, worked as a public broadcaster announcer, then shot straight to assemblywoman. Hell, becoming an assembly member at 31 is no normal feat. A woman with drive and ambition like no other.
"With a good coach, this much is thanks to your teaching."
She even golfs like a pro. Not empty flattery—par or birdie per round means she could aim for semi-pro. She returns the goodwill with a flash of white teeth.
"No matter how well you teach, some students just can't keep up. Right, seniors?"
"Hey now! We put in the effort too."
"Han-na, don't rub it in so bluntly—we'll get offended."
The pot-bellied assemblymen laugh it off with booming kekekekes. And this gathering with these big shots? Song Han-na set it up. Using her connections to drag in a bunch of heavy-ass assemblymen for these monthly networking rounds. Good talker, great golfer, master networker. Competent? More like overcompetent.
Click. But I hold off on the praise. Song Han-na gives a subtle head tilt—like signaling now's the time—and I catch it, approaching the next assemblyman in line. He's no fool to miss this chance of being spoon-fed like a baby bird.
"Assemblyman."
"Ah! Go ahead, President Cha."
"Looking at your score today, seems like there's something wrong with your clubs."
"My clubs?"
"Yeah, my iron's a new model I just bought—give it a try."
"Hmm...?"
I hand over the club I just swung. As the pot-bellied middle-aged man leans in to take it—close enough—he's ripe for it. I press in deliberately, whispering just loud enough for us.
'EM Corp stock—it's about to double, so load up while you can.'
"!"
Secret intel, just between us. The middle-aged assemblyman flinches but smoothly takes my club and pulls back.
"Oh, feels like it got some good vibes now!"
He hams it up theatrically, striding to the teed-up ball set by the caddy. Thwack! A solid shot lands near my green, and he bellows, "Clothes really do make the man!" before coming back laughing.
As he returns the club, he whispers back, 'I'll bring some friends soon—let's get closer.'
Harmless 'bribe intel'—he swallows it whole. Heh. Connections spreading like vines. One hand washes the other in this secret circle. Thanks to Song Han-na's maneuvering, dominating these assemblymen is a breeze.
Song Han-na's Loyalty Toward You: 98%
Vroom vroom! The golf cart driven by the caddy up front. Naturally, Song Han-na plops down beside me, gazing at the peaceful scenery before speaking.
"The seniors seem satisfied."
"Do they?"
"Of course. They're gobbling up that risk-free, juicy bribe like candy."
"All thanks to you convincing them so well, Han-na."
"Well... maybe."
She shrugs self-deprecatingly, then adds, "No matter how hard I try to keep it quiet, there was that big news about you recently."
"Mm..."
"Performance over 7 trillion won... unreal."
A clear sigh follows. "You really think a card company can double its market cap in profits? Logically?"
"But it happened."
"Yeah, it did. All from your hands."
She tosses her hair and turns to me, brushing off her golf skirt. Her hairstyle's changed—unique now, with cute curled side bits and red highlights. Clean and prim like an ex-announcer, but she loves the flashy touches.
"Predicting the stock rise too—like you see the future or something?"
Her eyes scream alien. I rate her highly, but to her, I'm the incomprehensible extraterrestrial.
'Well, if you wanna split hairs...'
Playful curiosity mixed with dead seriousness in her gaze.
"If it profits, who needs extra proof?"
"Hmph..."
She snorts, deflating at my dodge. Explaining the body possession? Pointless—it won't help. Better to prove it with actions. It rises, so they believe. Info hits every time, so they follow. Win-win for all.
"Tell me."
She fiddles with her curled side hair, then probes like poking a ripe persimmon. She scoots closer, wedging her hip right up.
"Got any more premium intel?"
"Well... the stocks and coins I tipped could just get lucky and rise."
"Yeah, 'by chance.'"
She giggles along, then, "And you'd divvy up that 'lucky' investment info by each person's value, right?"
"......"
Shelving suspicions of foresight, she starts calculating. Experience isn't built on luck—her brain spins fast.
"My gut says the real bombshell news hasn't dropped yet."
"Well... get 'closer' to me, and maybe I'll share."
"Eung~ So heartless."
Whoosh. In one move, she fills the hand's-width gap between our hips. Pressing her thigh warmly against mine, she purrs cat-like into my ear.
'I thought we were close enough already.'
Bold greed on display. I play it cool, averting my eyes.
"You've already made bank on my company stock—still not enough?"
I'd already given her special intel for doing her job right. Pre-shareholders' meeting tip on performance—one of the few. Stock hit all-time highs daily post-announce; she's probably doubled her money already.
"Thanks to you, my wallet's fat."
"Then?"
"Fat doesn't mean no room for more."
She flips her hair. "Beyond money, I wanna get closer. To the guy who declared himself Korea's top conglomerate."
Smirk♥ On our touching thighs, she strokes hers. Teasing close to mine, stirring a man's heart just right. Her thick thighs peek from the skirt. She rubs her fragrant makeup scent against me.
"If you're okay with it, I wanna get 'close' sooner."
"......"
Song Han-na's the type faithful to desire. She scoped the bait carefully, then trusted me fast.
'Too fast—might bite me in the ass...'
I'm open about fucking women, but this one's flooring it without brakes. A few hits from my tips, and she bets big, hurling herself in.
She grabs my hand amid my pondering. Yanks my arm wildly with excessive zeal, then squelch♥
"!?!"
My fingertips land straight between Song Han-na's thighs under her skirt. Face flushed, she goes bold with the surprise move. Shocking enough, but more shocking is the feel—something's... right there bare?
Wet, soft, slick cave texture. The spot you never tire of fingering.
Squelch... "♥"
I trace it just in case, and she grins lewder. With my hand wedged between her legs, she slinks cat-like and coos sweetly.
"President Cha, aren't you suddenly hungry?"
Sweet whisper. Even among the whores I've bedded, none like this. They always took cash first before spreading—no one just spread on their own. First time for such aggressive pursuit. And from a proper National Assemblywoman, no less. Who'd imagine a proud one like her golfing pantyless?
"...Fuck, I'm starving."
"Ah! Then let's ditch early, just us♥"
I smoothly pull my hand free and tell the driving caddy. She whispers to the female caddy, and screech—the cart stops at a rundown, empty restroom in a deserted spot.