Day One of the Harem — Greeted by the Landlord's Feisty Daughter and Her Bare Smooth Pussy
A new chapter opens.
"My dad... huuuhhh... my dad turned into a zombie, Auntie... huuuhhh..."
Geum Tae-yang broke down sobbing in Kim Min-jung's arms, pouring out words he could never have spoken to anyone else. Somewhere along the way he had shrunk back into the ten-year-old boy he once was. The awakening notification that flickered past his eyes barely registered.
"I... I sent Dad off with this steel pipe... I did it... I..."
Just as he had once confessed that he'd turned away from Auntie Min-jung's kindness because he couldn't bear to forget his mother, Tae-yang now laid bare the things he could only say to her. He had not only witnessed his father become a zombie — he had been forced to end him with his own hands. For a twenty-one-year-old, this single day had been far too cruel.
"Dad knew I'd be torn up about it, so he even wrote comfort into his diary... but I really can't take it, Auntie... haaahhh..."
Thoughts he had sealed away with desperate emotional anesthesia came flooding out. He felt like he was going insane. The image of a father who had worried about him until the very end was so pitiful it threatened to drive him mad. And the fact that he couldn't freely express that grief — because he had to send his father off in peace — felt merciless. In the end, Tae-yang had even resorted to that cruel emotional numbness to honor his father's final wishes. Yet more than any sense of having fulfilled those wishes, the sight of Geum Il-bong's body going limp under his own attack kept rising before his eyes.
Il-bong had prepared for everything out of worry for his son, right up to the moment of death — but there was a limit to how fully he could embrace the boy he left behind. Because that son, Geum Tae-yang, was still living through this very moment.
"That's right... cry all you want, Tae-yang. But don't blame yourself... That's how I see it. If A-young were blaming herself like this, I wouldn't be able to rest in heaven — I'd just wander..."
"It's okay to be sad, but don't think it was your fault. It wasn't. You're a wise boy..."
"That's why Auntie trusted your decision today and followed you... You're that remarkable, Tae-yang..."
Stroke... stroke... stroke...
Kim Min-jung filled that empty place. She held him with unwavering eyes and stroked his hair, pouring out every ounce of comfort she could muster as she shared the raw anguish he was feeling. She explained the tender love only a parent can feel for a child — and offered the kind of solace that only she, who had always stood behind him, could give. She spoke as if her own daughter, Park A-young, had been left alone before her eyes.
Back in the bunker she had fretted over how to comfort him. But the moment the situation arrived, she instinctively shared every bit of it as if it were her own, standing with him completely.
"Huuuuhhh!!! I'm so sad... I'm really so sad, Auntie... It feels like my chest is tearing apart... haaahhh!!!"
"My dad was so pitiful, Auntie — ugh! Uuugh!! Huuuhhh!! He worried about me right to the end... hahuuuhhh!!!"
In the deep, boundless shelter of Kim Min-jung's embrace, Tae-yang poured out unfiltered grief. Self-reproach and rationalization exist, after all, as ways to endure sorrow — crutches people thrash against. But once he found a tree he could lean on completely, Tae-yang no longer needed those crutches. He clung to Kim Min-jung, that tree that gave without holding back, and simply wailed.
Sniffle... sniffle...
After roughly twenty minutes of weeping outside, Tae-yang returned to the bunker and promptly fell asleep. The first floor had four rooms meant for sleeping. Min-jung carried him to the largest one. There he lay — one hundred eighty-nine centimeters and one hundred five kilograms of Geum Tae-yang — curled into a shrimp-sleep posture like a little kid, still sniffling as he drifted off.
Stroke... stroke... stroke...
Min-jung sat beside him and stroked the hair at his temple. While she had been soothing him her eyes had been steady; once he was asleep, her face filled with nothing but pity for him. No matter how much she comforted him, from the perspective of someone who loved him it never felt like enough.
Click...
Once she was sure he had sunk into deep sleep, Min-jung gently closed the door of the large room and stepped out.
"Is Tae-yang asleep?"
Park A-young's voice reached her the moment she emerged. A-young was sitting at the very top of the stairs leading to the second floor. She had played it cool, but in the end she had been worried about him too.
"Yeah. He passed out almost the second he lay down. The exhaustion must have hit him."
Thud... thud... thud...
Min-jung's footsteps grew heavy as she answered. Fatigue was catching up with her as well.
"The post-traumatic stress is going to be brutal."
A-young murmured it almost to herself.
"Hey, Mom — I couldn't say this earlier because of everything going on. But the truth is, Dad's side has been trying to hack us this whole time."
What she said next hit Min-jung hard.
"Hacking?? Not contacting us — hacking??"
Min-jung's half-lidded, exhausted eyes snapped wide open. She had expected angry calls demanding they get out of the bunker already — not this.
"Exactly what it sounds like. He's trying to hack us to disable the whole system. He doesn't trust us. He'd rather just wipe the system clean."
The sheer absurdity on Min-jung's face told A-young she didn't need any more setup. She laid out Park Do-chul's intent straight.
"Ha... Park Do-chul..."
Swoosh...
Min-jung breathed his name like a sigh and pushed her hair back. The sound carried a tangle of emotions. She had just finished tending to a grief-stricken Tae-yang; her feelings were already at their peak, and anger rose fast.
"I've been holding him off at a defensive level for now. But I've got a lot more coming my way. I want to cut out anything this hands-on as much as I can."
"So I'm going to block him at the source. You know what that means, right?"
A-young had brought up Do-chul's current state to explain her response plan.
"...."
Block him. Treat her own family — Park Do-chul — like a virus. Min-jung crossed her arms and fell silent for a moment.
"Alright. Block him, A-young."
Her expression and voice were firm as she gave her consent.
"...."
A-young looked at her mother in silence for a beat, then answered with cool ease.
"Okay. I'll do that."
"But Mom—"
She propped her chin lightly in both hands and went on.
"Hm?"
Min-jung, who had been about to head for the shower after agreeing to the block, turned back toward her daughter.
"How far do you think you'd go for Tae-yang?"
A-young looked down at her mother with a blank face and spoke words that carried a quiet, pointed weight.
He slept.
Geum Tae-yang kept sleeping. He slept as if he were dead.
Swoosh...
After that mindless stretch of sleep, he finally opened his eyes.
"....."
He stared ahead in silence, lids only two-thirds open, still curled in a shrimp posture facing the wall.
"....."
He remembered Min-jung practically supporting him as she brought him into the bunker. He remembered her hand stroking his hair while he lay there. He understood that he had melted into deep sleep and woken again.
Flash!!!!!
Then his eyes snapped fully open—
—Fwoosh!!!!
—and he kicked off the blanket and shot upright.
—Dadadadadadadadada!!!!!
He bolted out in a frantic rush.
Glance! Glance! Glance!
Out in the first-floor living area of the bunker, wild-eyed, he scanned every direction.
—Dadadadadadada!!!!
The moment he spotted his target he tore toward it again.
—Clatter!!!
He wrenched the door open with raw force.
"Whoa, fuck, my bladder's gonna burst!!!!!!!!!"
It was the bathroom.
"Fuck, it's gonna burst!! Burst!! Burst!!"
Fumble! Fumble! Fumble!
He was clearly in an emergency. He couldn't even get a proper grip on the toilet lid and dropped it several times. Somewhere past conscious thought, his body was already mid-stream.
"Khhhuuut!! Hhhut! It's coming, fuuuck!!!"
—Thud!!
He finally managed to lift the lid, yanked his lower clothes down, and seized his cock. It was nearly fully erect — his body had raised it as a last-ditch measure to hold back the urine packed into his bladder. The scene alone made clear just how full he was.
"Uwoooooooooo!!!!!"
—Gushgushgushgushgushgushgushgushgushgushgushgushgush
Full erection meant a slight delay before the stream could fire, despite a bladder that felt ready to explode. After that delay, his prostate unleashed a fierce jet of urine with a savage rush of sound.
"Huuuooooh...!"
Tremble... tremble...
About ten seconds later the sensation of imminent rupture began to ease. Tae-yang shuddered under a mad rush of release and vast catharsis. He was already trembling through his whole body with pure physical thrill — and he hadn't even finished yet.
"...."
It was a scene of raw, primal flesh. And because of that, a thought suddenly rose in his mind.
Dad died... I was that sad... but time still moved on... and here I am, dealing with a basic bodily function...
He had thought everything had collapsed and ended. He had grieved that hard. But in the end, even that enormous sorrow was only one stretch of his long life.
"Haa..."
Caught in that philosophical haze, Tae-yang let out a quiet sigh. It didn't last long. The sentimental mood shattered to pieces.
"Hey, you crazy bastard!!!! I'm in the middle of washing and you just barge in, get your dick hard, and start pissing — what the hell are you trying to do!!!!!!"
A sharp, cutting voice rang through the bathroom.
"Huh?????"
It had come from the shower stall on the right. Tae-yang turned that way with round, startled eyes.
"Ugh, fuck, seriously... that forearm-thick meat log is just pouring piss out like a goddamn waterfall..."
The owner of that sharp voice was none other than Park A-young. She had been showering in the first-floor bathroom.
"A-A-young... you were in here...?"
Of course she was completely naked. Tae-yang stared at her with those same wide eyes and offered an awkward greeting.
The bathroom off the first-floor living area was quite spacious. Open the door and the toilet stood right there. Next to it, a sink; beyond that, the shower stall. Under the shower stall sat a fairly large bathtub.
"Ha... fuck, this must be karma. I used to fling open the bathroom door in my studio apartment all the time — guess this is payback."
Scrub! Scrub! Scrub!
A-young, who had been soaping herself, resumed the work that Tae-yang's entrance had interrupted. There was a shower room on the second floor, but it was narrow — relatively speaking. A-young took washing seriously, so she had come downstairs on purpose.
"You could've locked it while you washed..."
A-young soaped her pussy without the slightest hesitation. Tae-yang, face flushed, kept his gaze forward and muttered under his breath.
"You think I didn't lock it? You just smashed the door open."
She looked at him like he was ridiculous. The threat of a bursting bladder had drawn superhuman strength out of him.
Weird... I don't think I pushed that hard...
Tilt...
Tae-yang looked faintly wronged. No matter how strong he was or how urgent the situation, a bunker bathroom door shouldn't shatter that easily. Bunker construction meant tougher materials than an ordinary bathroom. The question niggled at him as he stood there thinking — still pissing the whole time, for the record.
"Holy shit, you're pissing a ton..."
This was her first time watching a man urinate, and of course the subject had to be Geum Tae-yang with his off-the-charts specs. A-young clicked her tongue at the endless volume of his stream.
"Just close the stall and wash, A-young..."
Glance... glance...
She kept washing as she spoke — her pussy, her breasts, her ass. With Min-jung there had been a certain instinct to cover up; with A-young there was none of that. She washed with open, unselfconscious ease. Since she was presenting herself that way, Tae-yang stole sidelong looks and watched with timid fascination.
"I do it like this. I hate feeling boxed in."
She shut him down in a single stroke. A-young was meticulous — borderline germophobic. She hated anything that felt restrictive, which was why she never wore necklaces, rings, or bracelets.
Whoa... she really does shave her pussy... it's completely bare and smooth...
Flare... flare... flare...
That same meticulousness meant she waxed often. Faced with A-young's soap-slick bare pussy, Tae-yang's nostrils flared wide with pure admiration.