Looking Back, That Day Changed Everything
Looking back, there are days when you realize your life pivoted right from that moment. Yesterday was exactly that day for me.
“What do I do? I went and declared myself livestock. But I'm supposed to be human...”
To chase an orgasm, I'd forsaken my humanity—it was pathetically idiotic, even by my own standards. But in that instant, nothing else mattered as long as I could cum, so no regrets.
“Sigh... what the hell happens to me now?”
“What do you mean, 'happens'? Your real life is just getting started.”
“Sumire...”
Maybe it was my imagination, but Sumire had been way gentler with me since yesterday. Her smiles used to feel distant, like I was an outsider. Now, it was as if she'd finally accepted me as one of her own. No clue why, though.
“Seungyeon's body and mind have pretty much fully degenerated into bitch-in-heat mode, but unfortunately, she never got proper training on obeying Master Hoyoung the right way. Your mother-in-law suggested you head to university and hit the books.”
“University? Come on. You mean, like, in Japan? But I don't even speak Japanese—how am I supposed to cram for entrance exams?”
“Hahaha! What're you talking about? All of Japan's college entrance exams are in Korean now. Using Japanese counts as rebellion against Master Hoyoung, so it's been downgraded to a dead language for criminals and archaeologists.”
“………………”
Ancestors, can you see this? We've finally avenged the colonial era...
Word was, Japanese had become a dead language, studied only by archaeologists and crooks. And get this—no studying needed for university admission. The top qualification wasn't grades; it was proven loyalty to Master Hoyoung. Sounds insane, but flash some paperwork proving your connection to him, and top schools handed out free passes. Was that even okay? Eh, whatever—not my country. They'd sort their own messes.
At Sumire's urging, I transferred into Tokyo Hot Young University. The process was a breeze. Master Hoyoung dashed off a single recommendation letter, and boom—full scholarship plus living stipend.
My major: Hoyeong Studies, the department dedicated to every conceivable fact about Master Hoyoung. Supposedly more popular than med school. Grads landed jobs on autopilot, starting salaries north of 100 million won.
Just like that, I was a third-year at Tokyo Hot Young University, the world's top-ranked institution for Hoyeong research.
“—Why are humans born? As we all know, to obey Master Hoyoung. We are this era's greatest intellectuals, dedicated to researching the proper ways to submit to him. No one here wants to waste their life on useless crap like medicine, law, or engineering, right? Open your textbooks.”
The instructor wasn't so much a professor as a gravure idol in the making—a young, smoking-hot woman who commanded the lectern. Her dress had a scandalously deep side slit that drew the eye, and those perky nipples poking through? Impossible to ignore. She stood there shamelessly in beachwear chic, like it was the most natural thing.
Tokyo Hot Young University Hoyeong Studies Professor Mizuhara Hikari thrust out her at-least-D-cup tits and launched into the lesson.
“Textbooks open. First page is Master Hoyoung's photo, right? Ngh...♡ Just looking at it has me in heat already...♡ Haah. Sorry, gotta squeeze one out first before we start. Everyone cool with that?”
Cool my ass, I thought—but apparently, I was the only one.
Like intermission between acts in a musical, Hoyeong classes came with official masturbation breaks.
Swept up in the weird vibe, I started jerking off to Kim Hoyoung's photo on the first page, treating it like side-dish porn.
First time publicly masturbating in my life, but since everyone was doing it, no shame. If anything, staring at the picture dredged up memories of that day he'd groped me—my body lit right up.
“Master Hoyoung... aaah! Master Hoyoung! Touch my clit! My clit's all yours!”
I'd never forget the instant his fingers grazed it. That peak where the whole world turned to shit in comparison. I was the happiest bitch in the universe.
“I'm Master Hoyoung's livestock... no human rights... no freedom... a mindless beast existing only to obey him!!! Long live Hoyoung!! Long live Hoyoung!! Thinking of him makes me cuuuuuuum!!!!!”
Shit. Squirted again.
My girl-cum arced past the desk and splattered toward the professor. Kinda embarrassing.
Snapping out of it, I saw everyone had stopped and was staring. Guess I was the only one muttering to myself like a lunatic mid-stroke.
Aaah... mortifying.
“...W-what are you all waiting for? Let's give her a hand.”
Mizuhara, eyeing the puddle-trail on the floor like it was a masterpiece, suddenly started clapping. The class followed suit without missing a beat, their gazes envious—no mockery, just pure admiration.
“Impressive stuff. What's your name?”
“H-Han Seungyeon.”
“Seungyeon, eh? Korean exchange student. You're something else. Cumming that hard off a photo? I rub one out to him ten-plus times a day, and even when fucking my husband, I bag his head and fantasize it's Master Hoyoung to get off—but I've never dreamed of going full livestock like you. A student saying this, but I genuinely respect you.”
“N-no, it's not...”
Mizuhara went off on a tangent, calling me the first bitch-in-heat she'd ever seen, urging everyone to ditch part-time jobs, studies, dating—whatever—and model themselves after me. At first, I wanted to die of shame, but soon enough, pride swelled up.
“Truth is, Korea's the mighty nation that birthed Master Hoyoung, but ironically, they don't grasp that he's the world's true master. Obeying him is more obvious than the sun rising in the east, but outside Japan, fewer get it. Why do you think that is?”
“Um... maybe his power doesn't reach there?”
“The fuck did you just say? Sounds micro-brained. Time to call the authorities.”
“Eek! S-sorry! I'm not micro-brained! Mercy!!”
The twin-tailed girl froze ramrod straight like a recruit under drill sergeant glare.
Mizuhara loomed over her, yakuza-scowl locked in.
“Master Hoyoung is this world's god. You think he'd ever lack 'power'?”
“N-no sir! He's omnipotent and infallible!”
“Recite the loyalty oath. Prove you're not micro-brained.”
“Yes ma'am! I'm a lowly brainwashed sow for Master Hoyoung—happy to murder my own parents for him, renounce all personal happiness and wealth, and offer everything I am!”
“Fine... you're off the hook this once. One more micro-brain slip, and I report you.”
“Y-yes, Professor... my bad.”
I had no idea what “micro-brained” or “authorities” meant exactly, but the girl's near-death-relief face said it all: this shit was serious.
“Hmph... even foreigners oblivious to Master Hoyoung are still his slaves, same as us. Aware or not, the whole world's under his hypnosis. From his view, no point enlightening every garden bug with 'I'm your master'—he's not worth the effort to ants. Absolute god and all.”
Before I knew it, every student—including me—hung on Mizuhara's every word.
“So why was Japan the first to officially declare him national sovereign? Anyone? You there—the Seungyeon girl? Speak up.”
“Yes. Was it... Himeko auntie? Er, I mean, Prime Minister Fujiwara no?”
“Spot on. You're sharp, Seungyeon. Yes, Japan became this perfect model nation thanks to Chancellor Fujiwara no Himeko. She's incredible—second only to Master Hoyoung. Her wise policies ended our wandering and brought us peace in Hoyoung. Before him, I was just a gold-digging snake, fleecing men. He taught me what true love feels like.”
The class nodded vigorously in agreement. I'd had the exact same revelation myself. Staring at him, convinced he was my destiny. Even now, just thinking of him made my heart throb.
“Hard for us in this golden age to fathom, but old Japan was a micro-brained hellscape. Most people actually lived for their own happiness. Horrifying, right?”
“How could they, Professor?”
“My happiness? Never crossed my mind.”
“Our bodies and minds exist to serve Hoyoung, don't they?”
“Isn't happiness just the feeling of submitting to him? The word itself's a contradiction.”
Smiling at their baffled reactions, Mizuhara pressed on.
“Micro-brains were like that, apparently. Tough logic for any normal person. Picture it: erase Hoyoung from your head, chase your own dreams and joy?”
“Kyaaaaah!!”
“Just imagining it terrifies me, Professor!”
“Can't live without serving him... better off dead!”
“Kill me!! Please!!”
The classroom erupted into a slaughterhouse scream-fest.
“Exactly. Life without obedience to him is meaningless. But micro-brains bitch about him 'infringing personal freedom and rights.' Might still be some out there on this planet. My dream? Torture and exterminate every last one who rejects him! Insults him! Obstructs him! Those shitstain fuckwits don't deserve to breathe!!”
Watching her twist her face like she'd spotted her parents' murderer, something hot stirred in my chest. Soon, I was clapping wildly right along with the class, swept up in her speech. The more I chewed on it, the more it rang true—no counterarguments possible. This was real education, blood-and-guts stuff.