The Reason I Must Hypnotize Two People

Whiiip—.

A nearly empty bus. Inside it, I blew a whistle.

One man, head slumped, already asleep. The hypnosis command was rough and simple: don't wake up until someone rouses you.

At this hour, the bus driver would probably be the one to shake him awake at the terminal.

Tough luck for the guy — but I still had to grind hypnosis proficiency however I could.

When I went into the office on Tuesday, the department head had praised me right out in front of everyone.

I wasn't happy about it at all.

It was mortifying.

People clapped along with the mood, and all I could think was, Please stop!

I only managed to endure it by looking at Bae Jin-su's face — the face of a man who'd just bitten into a turd.

"Thanks, huh? Thanks to you I actually got an incentive like this."

"What? You messing with me?"

I'd teabagged him right to his face. Bae Jin-su dropped the usual snide, oily act and snapped back, all edges.

"Who's messing with anyone? You said it yourself. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠You weren't going to give it to me, then the workload got too heavy, so you handed it over out of consideration."

That left him with nothing to say. He scowled and stormed out of the office.

Off for a smoke, maybe?

It wasn't pocket change — a full nine million, no, nine-point-five million won in incentive money.

Without hypnosis, finding a ninety-million-won deal like that would have been nearly impossible, but that bastard didn't know that.

Anyway — long live hypnosis.

A few days passed.

I used hypnosis to knock out the routine work and kept weighing when to pull the two hundred million won in crypto. At the same time, I never stopped grinding proficiency — just like hypnotizing that half-asleep passenger on the bus.

Should I start hunting actual homeless people?

The reason I didn't go looking for them was simple. Homeless people clustered wherever they felt safest, which meant eyes. Witnesses.

So unless it was something as simple as "fall asleep," the way it was with bus passengers —

"Oppa. You here alone?"

— hypnotizing women at a club was better than hunting down the homeless.

Obviously.

"Hwaaang—!"

Because I could have sex.

For hypnosis proficiency I needed a full four hours. Four hours of straight sex wasn't realistic. And if I just fucked her and then ordered her to sleep for the rest of the time, she might wake up in a motel bed the next morning and report it as rape.

So I always had to give her a taste of the Hypnosis Orgasm.

Make sure she never forgot the feel of my cock.

To manage the hypnosis timer, I burned about two hours of it at the club itself. Under hypnosis she could still talk and move like normal, so no one would ever guess. Once that time was filled, I'd fuck her in fits and starts until the four hours were nearly up — then hit her with the Hypnosis Orgasm.

"Hkeuuuk!!!"

The woman lost her mind to the pleasure.

Her juices were already soaking everything from the continuous orgasm sex. Then the amplified climax — beyond ordinary orgasm — hit, and the fluid poured out like a flood.

Pssht. Pssht.

In all the women I'd brought home from clubs over the past few days, I had never seen one who didn't react like this. Even a woman with no sexual sensitivity probably would.

She arched her hips up, thrusting her pussy toward the ceiling, body trembling as she came.

The moment the hypnosis released and her mind cleared, she looked dazed and confused.

That was when I had to keep pounding her — just like with Park Min-seo.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

With her hips raised, the mound of her pussy sat higher, and I slammed my pubic bone into it hard. Slick with juices, the wet flesh made a sticky slap with every impact.

"Hkeuk. Hkeuk."

This one was especially weak. Her body was slender, and she was already gasping with her tongue hanging out. I wanted to ease off before she fainted — but the hypnosis was over. The second that sky-high Hypnosis Orgasm pleasure started to fade, she would never reach that height again under normal conditions.

So I had no choice but to fuck her hard and brand the pleasure into her brain.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

I lifted her pelvis and drove my hips down. My cock roughly scraped the folds of her vagina on the way in and out. Her legs, hooked over my shoulders, shook with every stroke — but the real vibration was inside, in the ridges of her pussy.

Her vaginal muscles clenched like they'd been through hard training. Even after gripping my cock for so long, they still had strength left, squeezing tight again and again. Not just squeezing — after that, a fierce vibration, as if someone had bolted a motor to her.

Brrrrr.

I didn't hold back. I slammed into her, then dropped to my knees, holding her hips up, and worked my waist hard.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She felt the final sprint coming.

"Ah, hhk! N-nooo…. Hwaang!"

I buried my cock deep one last time, then pulled out.

"Kk—!"

Another fountain of juices erupted. Matching the timing, I pulled free.

Brrrt!

I shot my cum across her body, then brought my cock to her mouth.

"Suck it."

Semen on her face, she grimaced with her eyes shut — then tried to turn her head at my words. I caught her face. Her mouth parted slightly as I gripped her, and I shoved my cock in. She flinched, then took it in without thinking.

"Open your mouth. I made you feel incredible, so you serve me too."

At that, she opened wider on her own.

Yeah. That's how it should be.

I'd learned while she was under that even with boyfriends, she'd never given oral. Her pussy wasn't virgin — but her mouth-pussy was.

I stroked the pretty head of tonight's one-night stand.

"This is the cock that made you feel so good. Move your tongue and thank it properly with your mouth."

I wiped the cum from around her eyes with a tissue. She slowly opened them, studying my face, trying to piece the situation together.

Truth was, she hadn't come to the club tonight looking for sex with a man. But she was close enough to my type that I'd brought her anyway.

The old me would have been carefully kind in a situation like this, reading her every cue. Now I could afford to push harder, take a little risk.

I gave her nipple a light twist.

"Hht!"

A surge of pleasure jolted through her — so intense she hadn't even fully registered it yet. I shifted my cock a little, reminding her it was there.

"Move your mouth."

Only then did it seem to hit her that she'd just had sex and felt an enormous orgasm. The woman who had never once given oral to any of the boyfriends she'd loved started awkwardly licking my cock, brow faintly furrowed.

"Good. Good. You're doing well."

And so, once again, I gave another woman the pleasure of the Hypnosis Orgasm — and scrubbed away her aversion to oral.

Would her next boyfriend curse me, or thank me?

No matter how hard he fucked her, she would never forget the pleasure she'd felt with me. Something would always feel lacking. But at least she'd suck his cock.

There was one downside to the Hypnosis Orgasm, though.

And that was—

"C-can I get your number?"

—even girls who normally never asked first, who only ever received numbers, became obsessed with me.

Just like Park Min-seo.

But they weren't virgins, and they weren't stunningly beautiful or built like fantasies either. Unlike Park Min-seo, they weren't going to be one of my lovers. Just another casual fling or one-night stand.

There was a cooldown on hypnosis, so I'd exchange contacts, call them a week later if I actually needed them — or not. They'd find some other guy on their own.

Those nights of hopping from club to club.

Tonight I decided to cut back on the drinking and just walk the night streets. I could feel my hypnosis proficiency was almost maxed out, and if a suitable target appeared, I planned to run one last test.

I was thinking about the two hundred million in crypto. A little over a week had passed since I'd first learned about it. For that kind of money, it was an absurdly fast result. So — move the crypto first. Then report the fake-divorce case to the company and close it out.

I'd already confirmed the title on the Dongtan commercial property. I'd staked out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the officetel where the husband was staying and taken photos — over several days. All that was left was to pull the trigger.

Two hundred million won.

I'd never held that much money in my life. But this was only the beginning. There was so much money out there that people couldn't report to the police even if it vanished. Step from the gray zone into the dark, and there was even more.

Working at this company, I was going to run into a lot of those kinds of people.

The anticipation made me smile on its own.

"Help me!"

A woman's scream.

The street was nearly empty this close to dawn, but a few people still passed by. Their eyes, like mine, turned toward the same place.

An alley.

At the mouth of it, a man had a woman by the arm. She struggled; he yanked her roughly, then slapped her across the face with his free hand.

"You fucking bitch!"

Crack—!

"Kyaak!"

Her head snapped to the side. The onlookers' stares sharpened. Everyone was weighing whether to call the police.

Normally I would have just watched and debated calling it in myself. I'd learned boxing, but in this country, learning boxing and then hitting someone was a great way to ruin your life — unless you were in a place like Russia. Like I'd said before: I learned so I wouldn't get hit.

But damn it.

Our eyes met.

Her head had whipped around from the slap, and it happened to face my direction.

"Help me!"

Whether she'd scanned the crowd, decided no one else would help, or whether I was simply the only one she saw — her desperate eyes made me sigh inwardly as I walked toward the alley.

I had boxing and hypnosis. Backing out now would be too pathetic, even for me.

I had no intention of fighting. Just break it up roughly and wait for the cops.

Closer up, the man was big, with some tattoos. Could be a real headache. His ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes were bloodshot — he'd been drinking.

"That's enough."

I said it while debating whether to grab the arm he was raising again—

"Who the fuck are you, you piece of shit? Get lost!"

The aggro swung to me. He flung the woman aside.

"Kyaak!"

I caught her as she staggered and nearly fell. In the brief hold, perfume and alcohol mixed. Both of them were drunk.

"Are you all right?"

"Y-yes. Please stop him."

The tattooed man twisted his face at her words.

"What? 'Him'? You fucking bitch! You cheating with this bastard? Huh? Going around spreading that cunt of yours? You filthy whore."

"What are you talking about! I've never seen him before!"

Ah, fuck.

Wrong call. They were a couple.

I'd never lived it myself, but I'd heard enough to know this was the exact combination that dragged you into a nightmare of a mess.

"You fucking bastard!"

He lunged for my collar. I stepped back and slipped it.

The ugly part of this combo: even if you barely touch a drunk guy and he gets hurt — even if he hits you first and you're only defending yourself — the second he claims mutual assault, especially if the alcohol makes him fall and crack something serious, you're fucked. And the even uglier part: the woman you just saved sides with her boyfriend in the statement, not with the guy who helped her.

Should I just bail now?

While I was thinking, my calm seemed to piss the tattooed man off more.

"Fuck!"

Whoosh, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠whoosh.

He swung. Thankfully, it wasn't trained punching. Easy to dodge.

Left. Left. Right.

I slipped the punches, planning to drain his stamina until he wore himself out. Once he realized he couldn't touch me, his pride took the hit — but he didn't want anyone seeing him look pathetic, so the aggro swung back to the woman.

"You whore. You dragged this piece of shit over here?"

Ugh.

If he went for her, I'd have to pin him by force. Then it got messy, exactly as I'd thought. So I just pulled out my phone and dialed 112.

"Hello? Police? There's a man assaulting a woman right now."

He wasn't completely wasted, so the aggro came right back to me.

"This bastard? What the fuck did I do that you're calling the cops?!"

I ignored him and tried to keep talking—

"Wait."

The woman grabbed my arm. Her expression had changed. Embarrassment and irritation layered over it now.

"You don't need to call the police."

"He just hit you."

"Oppa just had too much to drink. I'll handle it."

The tattooed man smirked.

"You hear that, you fuck? Stay out of it and go. Before I knock your jaw off."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I ignored him and asked her again.

But the irritation on her face only deepened.

"You could've just helped a little and left. Why do you have to blow it up and call the police?"

These fucking people?

"They say they don't need it. Yeah."

I hung up on the call that was still connecting. The cop on the other end sounded almost relieved to lose the job.

I was going to make these two pay.

That was the only thought in my head.

Ever since I'd gained hypnosis, my limits — my sense of morality — had shifted hard. I was going to show them what that meant.

If I just walked away, I wouldn't sleep tonight.

The problem: I could only hypnotize one person.

What now?

Hypnotize the man? Make him get badly hurt somehow? I couldn't kill him over this. Just put him in a hospital bed for a few months?

Or the woman? Make her do every filthy thing imaginable? Then put her out of commission for a few months too?

Either way, hypnotizing both of them was decided. Hypnotize one now, track down the other a few hours later and hit them then.

But how? Hypnotize one first and send the other home? Looking at them now, they weren't going to separate.

While I was turning it over—

The hypnosis I'd cast a few hours earlier had been stacking proficiency the whole time. The moment it ended, I crossed a threshold.

It gave me a choice.

And just like that, the dilemma was gone.