11. Unattainable

“I didn’t know you had a car.”

“I don’t drive much. Besides, it’s not anything special.”

“When did you get your license?”

“I’m twenty-one. A whole year older than you.”

“Yes, so old.”

Jin-han chuckled and handed her a cream-filled bread. Having left in such a rush, they hadn’t brought anything, so he’d quickly stopped by a convenience store to grab some snacks. Even though she insisted it wasn’t necessary, he kept buying things, worried there might not be another store nearby. From what she’d observed, Jin-han wasn’t usually this prepared, but around her, he always seemed to overdo it.

Was it normal for people to act like this in front of someone they liked? She didn’t know what “normal” even meant.

To her, Jin-han didn’t seem particularly ordinary either.

“Are you sure you’re okay skipping lunch?”

“I don’t think I could eat right now. Let’s have dinner later. Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine, but I was worried about you. Alright, let’s eat dinner later.”

Without knowing their destination, she followed wherever Jin-han led. She didn’t ask how long it would take or even care. Along the way, they got out of the car to walk along the beach paths and visited a famous lighthouse. By the time they reached their final destination, dusk had fallen, and the ocean stretched before them like an endless black flood, its waves surging as if ready to swallow her whole.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stepped onto a sandy beach. As she dipped her feet into the crashing waves, Jin-han snatched her sneakers away.

“Give them here.”

“It’s fine. I’ve always thought your feet were really small.”

“Why do all men say stuff like that? ‘Fuck this’ or ‘shit that.’”

“Is it because of your uncle?”

“All the guys around me swear like sailors. Yang Chul-woo is no joke either. Maybe I should visit him sometime—I invited him once.”

It ended as a strange one-sided conversation, but Jin-han didn’t seem to mind.

“He has a car, doesn’t he? If you go, you’ll just end up walking everywhere. Stay with me—it’ll be less exhausting.”

“There are taxis and trains. It’ll be fine.”

“Just stay with me. Okay?”

When he acted this stubbornly, he almost seemed like a typical twenty-one-year-old.

“If we book one room, it’ll save money, right? Of course, separate beds—we’re just saving cash.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but… damn conscience, huh?”

In some ways, Kim Jong-seop and Kim Jin-han were similar. If Jong-seop exuded the raw, overpowering scent of a mature alpha male, Jin-han carried the awkward charm of an inexperienced youth. There was something fresh and sprightly about his presence, though his words and actions often contradicted that vibe. Still, the lightness he radiated was unmistakably tied to his age—a privilege unique to young men.

As for Kim Jong-seop…

The leader of a pack, dominating countless females, indulging in promiscuity. Though his scent didn’t carry the musk of semen, he somehow evoked thoughts of it—overbearingly virile and overtly sexual. His sensuous face, tinged with thuggish allure, irritated her. He oozed arrogance, convinced of his own perfection.

“What a bastard.”

“Huh? Sorry. I’ll book separate rooms. Damn, you’re looking at me like you want to devour me.”

Jin-han pouted slightly, looking wronged. Despite his antics, Song-ah couldn’t bring herself to laugh freely.

________________________________________

“Has Jong-seop been busy with dating lately? Why haven’t I seen him around? He used to come every few days.”

Chairmain Seong, seated at the head of the table slicing his steak, inquired about Jong-seop, who hadn’t visited his office recently.

Kwon-seok, dragged along for dinner, wiped his mouth roughly with a napkin and glanced at the chairman.

“He’s probably balls-deep somewhere. Call him if you need him.”

“If I needed him, I’d have called already. I just wanted to see his face.”

Seok glanced at Si-baek sitting across from him. Catching the hint, Si-baek set down his knife and fork.

“He seems to be seeing someone, but it doesn’t look promising. I haven’t reported it.”

“Knowing him, he probably shoved his dick in first without thinking.”

Shaking his head knowingly, Chairman Seong took a sip of wine.

“Still, our Jong-seop isn’t one to slack off elsewhere. With that thick cock, every woman falls head over heels, begging for it. Any man worth his salt can handle a woman’s heart, right? Anyway, Kwon-seok, how much time do you have before your flight? Let’s wrap this up.”

Chairman Seong’s unusually sharp tone hinted at both criticism and concern for Jong-seop. In unison, Si-baek and Kwon-seok gave short nods in response to his final instructions.

“Take Jong-seop with you. He’s probably lost his mind again, buried in some pussy. Drag him out by the hair if you have to.”

After seeing Chairman Seong off, Kwon-seok frowned as Si-baek lit his cigarette while stepping into the sedan.

“This punk must’ve gone off somewhere again. Alone too. He’s losing his damn mind. Did he go stick his dick in someone else?”

Despite knowing Jong-seop’s schedule, he had vanished without a word.

Even though Jong-seop rarely mixed personal matters with work, he never ignored basic responsibilities. No matter how many women threw themselves at him, he wouldn’t touch anyone unappealing, and if duty called, he’d force himself back immediately—even after dragging a woman into the office for quick sex, cleaning up hastily before joining meetings.

He was the type who joked about the smell of pussy lingering on his cock during work hours. Predictable in his unpredictability, his movements usually made sense.

But now, he had disappeared without a trace. What the hell was going on? Si-baek’s nerves frayed under the weight of Jong-seop’s recent erratic behavior.

“How much time until departure?”

“About two hours.”

“Call him. Tell him to finish whatever he’s doing and get back here.”

Damn this asshole. Should I strip him bare and hang him somewhere? Kwon-seok rubbed his furrowed brow as cigarette smoke drifted into the air.

________________________________________

“They say grilled clams are famous around here. Want to try some?”

Song-ah felt her throat tighten as if water had gone down the wrong pipe. Ordinary words that anyone could say or hear felt embarrassingly intimate to her—all thanks to that madman, Kim Jong-seop.

“How about something simple, like Korean-style beef soup?”

“Sounds good. What kind do you like?”

“I like all kinds of beef soup. I just want something warm. Is that okay with you?”

“Why? Does it taste bad?”

“No, it’s delicious.”

“Then why aren’t you eating much?”

“Do you think I got fired from my part-time job?”

She hadn’t even had the mental space to consider it.

Perhaps it was inevitable from the moment Kim Jong-seop had forced her legs apart. Or when she’d faced another stranger, moaning and grinding hips in mutual ecstasy. It might have been preordained since then.

Her mind had been elsewhere—escaping reality, abandoning everything, running away as if fleeing her entire life. It wasn’t that meaningful an act, yet it felt monumental because it was such a departure from her usual self.

In high school, she’d harbored vague fantasies of rebellion.

The thrill of breaking taboos, the sense of conquest over societal norms—it all seemed so enticing. But now, none of it felt thrilling or liberating. There was no sense of triumph, only the crushing defeat of feeling insignificant in society’s eyes.

Maybe that’s why her previous life, with its regular routine of work and study, had felt satisfying despite physical exhaustion. At least it provided emotional stability.

Perhaps what she truly craved was a sense of stability in life—a feeling she’d rarely experienced.

“Yoon Song-ah.”

“Want a beer? Soju doesn’t sit well with me.”

After picking at their food, they left the restaurant and stopped by a nearby convenience store to grab a couple of beers. Sitting on the sandy beach, the waves lapped gently against the shore. The night was eerily quiet, save for the sound of the tide. Away from Seoul, the sky stretched wide and star-studded—an unfamiliar sight.

It was just stars, but she couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed by how much she hadn’t seen or done. She couldn’t keep running forever. Barely half a day had passed since she left home, yet instead of finding peace, anxiety weighed heavier than ever.

“Shouldn’t we put something under us to sit on?”

“What, do you want me to strip naked?”

“I’m confident about my upper body. Wait, actually, my lower body too. A man’s confidence lies in his waist and hips. Damn, I’ve got both.”

When he said things like that, he reminded her strangely of Kim Jong-seop. Though their appearances and actions were nothing alike, moments like these made her realize they were blood-related.

“Are you close with Kim Jong-seop?”

Jin-han, who had already drained more than half his beer, nodded lightly.

“After my grandparents passed away, and then my father… I guess you could say there’s some connection. Truthfully, Uncle and I haven’t been particularly close until recently. Before that, our relationship wasn’t warm. He probably dislikes me.”

Jin-han’s usually cocky demeanor softened as he gazed thoughtfully at the beer bottle in his hand.

“After my dad’s business failed, debt collectors hounded us. We lost everything overnight. Then, the house caught fire…” His voice trailed off. “Uncle thinks my dad set the fire intentionally—for insurance money. Maybe… maybe he’s right.”

There seemed to be more to the story, but Jin-han fell silent. Rather than pressing further, Song-ah chose to listen quietly.

“You don’t seem to know much about Kim Jong-seop.”

Though his expression remained neutral, Jin-han seemed to notice this was the first time she was hearing details about Jong-seop. He smirked faintly, like a mischievous child victorious in a candy-grabbing contest.

It made sense; their interactions had been far from verbal. Words had been replaced by the sounds of forced entry, rhythmic thrusts, and bodily fluids spilling out in waves. He had treated her like someone desperate to pry open her lower lips.

What worried her more, though, was what had happened to those debt collectors. Were they still alive?

“My grandfather worked as a journalist in Japan, where he met my grandmother and married her. Both were Korean. Around the time Uncle entered elementary school, they moved back to Korea. I was born later. But, you know, I envy him. If there’s something he wants, he won’t rest until he gets it—by force or law. Whenever I see him, I feel inspired to live boldly. But I lack willpower, or maybe perseverance. I don’t even know what I want to do yet. Here I am, just repeating a year of studies.”

His laughter masked layers of complex emotions.

“There’s another repeater here, too.”

“Yeah.”

Self-deprecation, guilt, envy, jealousy—all tangled together, swelling with time. Negative emotions rarely flowed one way. Jin-han’s feelings toward Jong-seop must have been equally complicated. Despite being bound by blood, Jong-seop wasn’t someone who showed mercy easily.

Unless he decided to kill someone himself. But even then, wouldn’t his emotions be just as tangled? Perhaps it was because Jin-han was his brother’s son. Still, these were mere guesses.

“You gave me so much info about Uncle. Don’t you want anything in return?”

“I wasn’t curious, but you offered.”

“…Right. Why did I assume you’d be interested?”

Silence returned. The gentle waves filled the void, and the rhythm of swallowing beer mirrored the ebb and flow of the tide.

Peace was a rare visitor in her life. Now, basking in the warm sea breeze, she sat quietly, staring at the waves. Behind Jin-han, dark shadows drifted closer. Their forms grew larger, taking shape.

The narrow necklines indicated human figures. While it might seem natural to assume they were fellow beachgoers, Song-ah knew better.

How many times had she assumed the worst and been proven right? Troubles came crashing down like tsunamis, burying her beneath their weight.

“Uh… Jin-han…”

Before she could finish calling his name, a loud thud echoed through the air. Jin-han collapsed beside her, struck by a metal bat emerging from the darkness. Another blow landed on his already fallen head, producing a sickening crack—like splitting wood. The brutal sound blended with the waves, swallowed up as if nothing had happened.

“Ah, ah, Oppa! Jin-han Oppa!”

“Oppaaang~ Call me that too.”

Pushing past the jeering voices, Song-ah confronted the shadowy figure looming over Jin-han. As it drew near, a familiar face emerged from the darkness.

“…Lee Sang-heon.”

Sang-heon wiped blood splattered across his lips with a finger.

Grinning widely, he leaned in close, revealing pierced ears glinting in the dim light. Behind him, other familiar faces snickered—thugs who frequented Yoon Hyung-woo’s shop.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I can be persistent. Heard you’ve been fucking Kim Jong-seop real good, so I waited.”

He licked her earlobe, exposing bloody gums in a bright smile.

“Heard you’ve been busy. Is your pussy still intact? My boys said they heard you screaming while getting fucked hard enough to echo outside the gate.”

Memories of the sex she’d had with Jong-seop days ago flooded back vividly.

Her breath hitched, vision blurring. If she were a fish, she’d breathe through gills, but as an air-breathing creature, her constricted throat struggled desperately.

“Fuck off.”

“Aww, I wanted to hear that voice. I’ve been jerking off every night thinking about it. My dick’s raw.”

“Shut up. Why didn’t you come when I was with Kim Jong-seop? Were you scared?”

“You fucking bitch!”

Lee Sang-heon raised the bat he was holding. Instinctively, Song-ah’s defense mechanism kicked in, and she blocked her face with her arm. With a shattering sound, the bottle in her hand broke against the bat, and the yellow liquid that spurted out with an ear-splitting crash splattered across her face.

Before she could even come to her senses from the beer shower, the front of her blouse was ripped open, and her bra was torn off.

“Fuck! Let go! You crazy bastard!”

“Oh, you fucking crazy bitch, stop acting up. You’ve probably sucked a lot of dicks anyway. It’s a shame I couldn’t take your virginity, but at least I can take your cherry. It’ll make me feel a little less wronged, you bitch.”

She was slapped, choked. Her bra was pulled up to her neck, and Sang-heon, grabbing her exposed breasts, shook them violently, eventually sticking out his tongue and sucking on her nipples.

“Ugh! Let go!”

Her struggling hands were grabbed by the other men. Lee Sang-heon, like a madman, licked her chest, and the man who grabbed her wrist hurriedly unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and shoved it into her struggling hand, intending for her to grab and shake it. With a cock in each hand, her panties were pulled down.

“Fuck, this is going to be so good. Wow. Look at her bush. Oh, I’m hard. Yeah, hold it steady.”

Lee Sang-heon buried his face back into the valley of her breasts as if determined to see the end. Song-ah clenched the cocks in her fists tightly.

“Argh! You fucking bitch!”

She was slapped again. Her body bruised, she was devoured under the dark night sky.

The man, with his hands clasped over hers, shook the unfamiliar black cock. The unpleasant sensation. The unfamiliar thickness. The things in her hands, wriggling, grew even larger. Different penises, each with its own shape, swayed in front of her.

“Ah! Fuck, this is so good. I’m going to cum. Ah, I should cum in her pussy, but let’s start with a facial.”

After shaking it dozens of times, semen splattered across her face. Her cheeks, chin, the dripping, fishy smell, different from Kim Jong-seop’s. She gagged in revulsion. Instinctively, she turned her head to vomit, but her hair was grabbed, and her head was forced up.

“Eat it properly, you bitch. It’s good for you.”

The bastards, forcing the semen smeared on her lips between her teeth, were determined to swallow her whole.

Lee Sang-heon pushed away the men rushing in, telling them to wait their turn. She saw Jin-han lying there, covered in blood. Strangely, not even tears came out. It wasn’t that she hadn’t imagined that she might have to take the cock that had been in and out of Yoon Hyung-woo’s hole, so she had thought that this day would come someday.

No, I don’t want to. I hate it so much that I’d rather jump into that sea and suffocate to death.

Song-ah grabbed a broken piece of beer bottle lying next to her. It was an accident, but since she had already cut once, why would a second time be difficult? Let’s just die. Let’s die. Chilling words dug into her brain and tangled it into a mess.

“Don’t come near me. I’ll fucking cut myself.”

Why was she so powerless in front of men? In this world ruled by the logic of power, she was at the very bottom of the pyramid. When she was young, it was her grandfather, and as she grew older, it was her grandfather’s lovers. Nothing would get better in the future.

The men laughed as they saw her holding the shard of beer bottle to her wrist with a desperate look.

“Hey, we’re going to do it even if you cut yourself. It’ll be even better if you can’t resist.”

The men, drooling, rushed at her, determined to humiliate her in any way possible. She put more strength into the hand holding the shard.

“Let go!”

As she shook her elbow to shake them off, a cold, chilling sensation spread across her entire wrist.

The crimson blood, starting to flow down her wrist, began to form a stream, as if it would never stop, like an endless sea.

“Ah...”

Her chest heaved greatly. The despair that spread like fog, the resignation that she would never escape this day, dyed her heart like a crimson wave. The flowing tears felt as stinging as blood. She closed her eyes, and then, a thud, like a stone bursting, rang out.

She slowly lifted her tear-soaked eyelids. The tip of a knife protruded from the center of Lee Sang-heon’s Adam’s apple, which was grabbed by the hair. The hand that stabbed his neck from behind then pulled out the knife as if boning a fish, and stabbed his eyes one after the other. Blood spurted from both eyes like tears of blood. The fishy smell of blood spread on the blowing sea breeze.

Song-ah closed her eyes again. Then, everything that had been spread out in front of her disappeared into the darkness. A space of silence. It was rather comfortable.

Jong-seop grabbed the drooping head and handed it to Yoon-do.

“Take it to the workshop. Get the rest of the bastards too. And Tae-seok, take Jin-han to the hospital first. Hurry the fuck up!”

Yoon-do, though puzzled that he didn’t immediately take the head as he usually would, silently accepted the head and left. It was surprising to Yoon-do that Kim Jong-seop, who was no different from a beast when it came to cutting off the heads of bastards he was dealing with, pulling out their teeth, cutting their Achilles tendons, pulling them out in front of the living ones, had other priorities.

“Song-ah. You have to open your eyes. Fuck, Yoon Song-ah.”

Jong-seop picked up the unconscious Song-ah and ran across the sandy beach. He carried her and got into the car in a daze. He covered her disheveled upper body with his clothes and tried to wipe off the clumps of semen with a handkerchief, but first wrapped the wrist from which blood was flowing endlessly. He silently wiped the traces of other men’s cocks from her face with the handkerchief that Tae-seok handed him. Tae-seok poured some mineral water, and Jong-seop wiped off the stains on Song-ah’s body from underneath.

“Song-ah. Yoon Song-ah. You have to open your eyes. Fuck, you cut it so deep. Did you try to kill yourself by destroying your artery? Huh? Fuck. You fucking bastard, why don’t you speed up more?”

Shouting “fuck” more than Yoon Song-ah’s name, Jong-seop, unbecomingly and uncharacteristically, prayed that she wouldn’t die in front of her fading life.

You fucking bastard. Save Yoon Song-ah right now.

Like a madman.

The surgery dragged on. The sudden downpour fell abruptly. It had been several hours already.

Jong-seop, who had been guarding the operating room for a long time, finally looked at his ringing cell phone.

“I’ll be here, so please take a break, brother.”

“Tae-seok.”

“Yes, brother.”

“No.”

Jong-seop went down the stairs, lit a cigarette, and walked down the hospital corridor. Men and women who were disgusted by the cigarette smoke rushed at him as if something terrible had happened.

“Oh my, no smoking here!”

“Fuck, do your eyes see me sucking on it? I haven’t even lit it, what the fuck are you talking about? Move. I’m telling you nicely. You’re always so fussy.”

Standing under the pergola in the rain, Jong-seop lit his cigarette and answered the ringing phone again. It was the first cigarette he had smoked in hours. It relieved him a little.

“I know, I’m a fucking idiot.”

「You’re not just a fucking idiot. You’re... where are you now? How can the guy who was supposed to come disappear in the middle of it? It would have been enough to burst one of your balls, but are you trying to dip my cock too, you fucking bastard? Ugh, never mind. My brother is very angry. You’d better handle it well.」

There was no point in holding on to the phone, he would just say more bullshit. Anyway, he had to meet Kwon-seok to fix things. There was nothing to be solved by arguing over the phone, and he didn’t want to argue with Choi Si-baek right now.

As if he felt the same way, Si-baek hung up without saying a word.

A guy who cuts his wrist? Without exaggeration, he had seen more of them than the number of bowls of rice he had eaten. He knew immediately how deep to cut to die, whether an artery was severed, whether there was hope or not. He had even experimented on how to cut the heads of Dae-myeong bastards he didn’t like to kill them quickly. So, Yoon Song-ah wasn’t in good shape. The cut was so deep that the bone was exposed, and the bleeding was severe.

Kim Jin-han’s surgical prognosis wasn’t good either.

Uncharacteristically for Kim Jong-seop, he was anxious. It would be his loss to break down the operating room door.

Someone getting sliced up and dying, that was just a normal, everyday occurrence for him. But the moment he saw that mere wrist wound, his heart plummeted, and his head spun for a moment.

Kim Jong-seop, the mighty Kim Jong-seop.

He had come to catch Yoon Song-ah, his eyes bloodshot with the thought that she had run away with Jin-han, but when he found her teetering on the brink of life and death, his mind froze, and he couldn’t think of anything.

Slicing and killing, it was nothing new to him, but he was overwhelmed by a shock he had never experienced before.

His reason was completely paralyzed, and his mind, which had always been clear and efficient, was now completely congested.

Even when his brother was stabbed, he hadn’t felt this way. He didn’t know how to shake off this fucking anxiety and unease. He had never felt this way before.

His head was throbbing and he was disoriented, but even then, the semen dripping down her face and neck made him feel like she had been assaulted a second time. Those fucking bastards gave Yoon Song-ah a facial? If they wanted to drink so much cum, he would have to play with them.

“Oh, Yoon-do. Is the work going well?”

「Yes, brother. We’ve gathered the guys with those preferences, and it’s in full swing now.」

“I told you to open up their assholes, and now I hear screams of agony from everywhere. The stench of shit is reaching me here. Fuck.”

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Rape for rape. It was a very simple and reasonable method.

“Alright. Anyway, don’t kill them, just take them to the workshop.”

「Yes, brother.」

“Fuck, aren’t they going to die from shock? Did you choose guys with big dicks?”

「As you said, I only prepared the big ones.」

Even in this situation, he chuckled.

“Aren’t you going to get addicted to this and start craving dick again? Once you get a taste of men, they say you only look for dicks. I hope we’re not just giving them good experiences. Anyway, tell them to fuck them until their assholes are ragged. Once their sphincters are loose and they start shitting, solder their assholes shut and bring them to the workshop.”

「Yes, brother.」

Come to think of it, he shouldn’t have let them off so easily. He was so blinded by rage that he let Lee Sang-heon go too easily.

Yoon Song-ah, Yoon Song-ah.

The tip of his dick was burning, and the inhalations of the cigarette he was smoking deepened. He was chain-smoking when he received a call. It was a call from Jo Tae-seok, telling him that the surgery was over.