Private Beach? Private Bitch!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Oh, she wasn’t firing single shots—she started with controlled bursts right from the beginning. The way she absorbed the recoil looked like she’d been lying about being scared. Her shooting stance was rock-solid too. From behind, the slight bounce of her hips with each recoil was seriously sexy, like something straight out of a game.
Before long, she’d emptied an entire thirty-round magazine. The target paper zipped forward on its rail and stopped right in front of Yukiko. The grouping had formed low and to the right instead of center mass—probably because the sights weren’t zeroed for her—but the shots were packed so tightly together it was hard to believe this was her first time shooting a rifle.
“Are you… by any chance part of the Self-Defense Forces? Or maybe a PMC?”
The range manager who’d been watching from the side had his mouth hanging open when he asked that. Enough said. After the Type 40 rifle, Yukiko took the MCX-Spear II—the one currently used by the U.S. military—and continued shooting.
At this point I didn’t need to babysit her anymore, so I picked up the still-warm Type 40 she’d been using and started firing. The metallic smell, the sharp scent of gunpowder, and the deafening roar of the firearm filled the air as I quickly burned through all thirty rounds.
When the target slid forward with a mechanical rattle, my grouping wasn’t bad for someone without any special traits, but it clearly couldn’t compare to Yukiko’s. She had just finished with the MCX-Spear II as well, so she showed me her target.
“Yeah, your shooting is way better than mine, Yukiko.”
The grouping from her MCX-Spear II was even tighter and more precise. This time the rifle must have been zeroed properly for her, because every round had punched a clean hole right through the chest area.
“It must be because I’ve done a lot of clay shooting. You’ll get good too if you keep at it, Ryuta.”
She seemed to genuinely enjoy shooting. After comforting me, she immediately grabbed the next gun and started firing again.
Since I had nothing better to do, I took the MCX-Spear II she’d just used and kept shooting. For me, the MCX-Spear II felt more natural than the Japanese Type 40. Maybe it was because Americans tend to be bigger? I didn’t know much about firearms, but the feeling that it suited me better was unmistakable. The results showed it too—my accuracy improved noticeably.
By the time I finished with the MCX-Spear II and looked over at Yukiko, she had sped up even more. While I emptied one magazine, she had already finished firing with a second gun. As she grew more familiar with the weapons, both her speed and accuracy kept climbing.
It made sense that there was a time difference. I was deliberately shooting single rounds to improve precision, while she was using controlled bursts.
Since shooting wasn’t exactly my strong suit anyway, I decided to stop worrying about Yukiko and just take my time at my own pace. After cycling through several different rifles, I noticed she had moved on to pistols. Rifles had a similar length to the shotguns used in clay shooting, so her stance stayed stable. But since this was her first time with handguns, her posture looked a little awkward.
Plus, unlike rifles where you could brace the stock against your shoulder to absorb recoil, pistols caused her whole body to shake noticeably more. The pistol targets were set much closer, so she wasn’t completely missing, but her accuracy had dropped significantly compared to the rifles.
“That’s not quite right. For pistols, you should grip it like this. Feet shoulder-width apart…”
The attendant must have noticed her bad form and began demonstrating the correct stance while explaining it to her. Since I had only used pistols haphazardly in real combat before, I paid close attention too. Learning everything from proper grip techniques to various stances would definitely come in handy later.
It was pretty helpful information. I made a mental note to visit East Weapons or Seryu-tai later—places where real professionals gathered—and learn properly.
“Then I’ll try again.”
Yukiko seemed eager to test out everything she had just learned. She started with the modern isosceles stance, firing squarely at the target. Next she switched to the Weaver stance that you usually see in movies, and finally tried the Chapman stance, a variation of the Weaver.
“The Chapman stance feels the most comfortable.”
Sure enough, the target results were best with the Chapman stance, which she said felt most natural. I grabbed a pistol too and tried cycling through the stances. For me, the Weaver stance worked best.
After finishing with semi-automatic pistols and even revolvers, Yukiko picked the MCX-Spear II again for rifles—same as me—but surprisingly chose the SK-38 from Korea’s Shinkang Defense, part of the Shinkang Group, for her handgun.
The Shinkang Group had its roots in a military contractor that grew rapidly during World War III, so their weapons were quite decent. That was probably why Yukiko went with their pistol.
“It’s definitely a different kind of fun from clay shooting.”
Yukiko’s face was flushed with excitement. She looked ready to order a gun on the spot, but since there was no immediate way to get one, she seemed disappointed. I could just get her one later as a gift through the black market. She also looked pretty tired—probably from holding the same tense posture for so long while shooting.
“Want to grab dinner and head back to the villa?”
“Yes. You must be hungry, right?”
We had been shooting for nearly three hours, so we were both feeling a bit peckish. For an early dinner, we stopped at a place called Ezawa—the original restaurant famous for Katsura Tantanmen, the signature dish of Katsura City.
From what I’d looked up beforehand, the menu was originally developed here to warm up the bodies of female divers. That explained why it looked different from tantanmen in other regions and had a reputation for being much spicier.
Yukiko only ordered one bowl of Katsura Tantanmen, but I added the Katsura Chashu Tantanmen, a pork rice bowl, and curry on top of that. I asked for mild spice on both extras.
The bright red broth topped with plenty of green onions arrived first, followed by my pork rice bowl and curry. We dug in right away.
Thanks to the chili oil, the Katsura Tantanmen was seriously spicy even for Japanese food. I’d ordered it mild, but it still packed a punch. The rice bowl and curry were just regular levels of heat.
“Ah, it’s spicy!”
Even though she kept complaining about the heat, Yukiko ate it pretty well. She said spicy food helped relieve stress, and in the end she drank every drop of the broth. As a big eater, I naturally cleaned out all three of my bowls. No matter how spicy the Katsura Tantanmen was, Korean blood still flowed in these veins. Among Japanese dishes, this level of heat wasn’t anything special to me.
“Want some ice cream?”
“Sure, why not?”
I suggested ice cream to wash away the lingering spiciness in our mouths, and Yukiko nodded enthusiastically. We stopped at a convenience store on the way, loading up a bag with all kinds of ice cream and bread. I bought extra bread on purpose—I planned to bring it later to the prison where Dang Sohwa and Yang Seol-hee were being held.
Yukiko picked a soda-flavored Garigari-kun and crunched away happily. I went with the Choco Monaka Jumbo—thin crispy wafers on the outside, vanilla ice cream inside, with a rich chocolate center.
“My mouth feels a lot better now.”
The way Yukiko cutely stuck her tongue out just a little as she spoke was so adorable that I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and gave her lips a quick kiss. Her mouth was still cold from the ice cream, giving it a refreshing new sensation.
“Aww~ What was that for♥”
After the short kiss, when I pulled away, Yukiko lightly smacked my chest with a bright red face before climbing back into the car. Seriously, is it even legal to be this cute? I’m definitely going to hug her tight once we get home.
###
Maybe all the shooting had worn her out, because Yukiko quickly grew tired and fell asleep. This was the first time she had passed out after just two rounds. On the bright side, it meant I could focus more on “persuading” the two prisoners waiting in the jail.
I grabbed the bread and two ice creams I’d bought earlier and headed for the prison. After entering the passcode and walking past the interrogation room, I entered the cell block lined with iron bars. Dang Sohwa and Yang Seol-hee were both crouched on their mattresses.
“Yo~”
“Yo? Who the hell do you think is going to welcome you?”
When I greeted them, Dang Sohwa shouted back, her spirit still unbroken. As expected, yesterday’s session hadn’t been enough to sway her.
“It’s hot, right? Let’s start with some ice cream first.”
I slid the ice creams through the bars to each of them, then opened my own and took a bite. They hesitated for a moment, but just like yesterday, Dang Sohwa told Yang Seol-hee to eat first. Only then did they both start eating.
After the brief period of crunching sounds passed and all the ice cream was gone, I spoke up.
“Did you take the birth control pills?”
“Of course! There’s no way I’m getting pregnant with your filthy cum.”
To be honest, because of the toxic love juices that came out of Dang Sohwa’s pussy, I figured all my sperm would die anyway, so the pills probably weren’t even necessary. But since I didn’t know whether my special traits applied to my sperm or not, I made them take the pills anyway. If the traits did apply, my sperm would basically be super sperm that ignored all kinds of status effects.
“Today…”
I deliberately turned my head slowly, looking back and forth between the two of them. Yang Seol-hee’s face showed obvious tension. Dang Sohwa glared at me with an expression similar to yesterday’s, but deep in her eyes I could see a faint trace of anticipation. She didn’t seem to have realized it herself yet.
“Rape me again today! Just leave Xuexi alone!”
Hmm… I wondered if those words were really for Yang Seol-hee’s sake, or if they were for her own pleasure. I looked at Dang Sohwa and gave her a sly smile.
“Today, I think I’ll have a taste of this side instead.”
“Don’t talk bullshit! If you lay even one finger on Xuexi’s body, I’ll kill you!”
When I looked toward Yang Seol-hee, Dang Sohwa’s furious shout rang out. But trapped behind the iron bars, all she could do was watch.
Clang!
Yang Seol-hee’s cell door opened. She sat there motionless, like a rabbit caught by a hunter who had already given up on everything.
— Yukiko’s Shooting Session —
