Substitute-Chapter 11

Even after taking three days off, Han still whined that he was sick. He hung limp like a rat soaked in water, his movements slow and sluggish.

Jiwon suffered from the heat too, but he wasn’t in a position to complain about it freely.

“Hyung, they say next year’s gonna be even hotter. What, are we all supposed to just die or something?”

Then Han started griping about how unbearably hot his outfit was. Because of Madame, who insisted on them wearing vests no matter the temperature, he said he was about to die.

“Hyung, hyung. Hey, you’re coming to the MT too, right?”

Jiwon raised an eyebrow at the sudden switch.

From talking about heat to motels — what the hell kind of non sequitur was that?

“No, not a motel. I meant the MT, the trip.”

“Ah...”

Jiwon scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

It must’ve been the MT Han mentioned last week. With the unprecedented heat, cafés and beer joints were booming, but the room salons were dead. It was just too hot — people couldn’t stand the idea of drinking with girls. Madame had sighed heavily.

Then someone had joked that, since there were no customers anyway, they should just close for a day and do a company retreat. The so-called "Emperor MT." In the end, it was just a day at a popular paji in Gapyeong to play in the water, grill meat at a lodge, and drink. But everyone had gotten excited.

Still, since nothing concrete had been said, Jiwon had assumed the plan fell through.

“So it’s really happening?”

“Of course it is. You’re coming too, right?”

“I dunno... we’ll see.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’ll see’? You have to come. It’s on Wednesday. You can just come straight from the logistics center. Madame noona said she’d cover your travel expenses.”

Han even grabbed Jiwon’s arm, pestering him like a child. His antics made Jiwon laugh.

Jiwon answered, “Alright,” pretending to give in reluctantly — but deep down, he was happy. Even if he didn’t make it in time for the water, at least he could gorge on grilled meat and drink without worrying about work. These days, without even a small break like that, the anxiety would’ve driven him insane.

As they killed time talking about the MT, Jiwon’s phone vibrated. Han’s vibrated at almost the same moment, and they both laughed, assuming it was from the salon.

“Seriously, our Madame noona just can’t sit still.”

They both looked at their phones without needing to say who’d go first.

[Kim Jiwon-nim, congratulations on your acceptance. Please check the link below for details regarding the final interview.]

Jiwon’s eyebrow twitched at the unexpected message. Han let out a drawn-out “Whoa,” almost a groan. At nearly the same time, they looked up and locked eyes.

Han, conscious of the CCTV, mouthed silently, “Hyung, you too?” Jiwon gave a small nod.

“Holy shit! This is nuts!”

Han’s voice was trembling with excitement. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Jiwon, if anything, wanted to scream. They’d kept him hanging for nearly a month — and finally, finally, they sent word.

Honestly, he thought he hadn’t made it. Mostly because of what Monkey-Face said after the second interview:

“You took so long I thought you quit. Guess sucking cock was harder than it looked, huh.”

He’d said it mockingly, like a jab.

It had crushed Jiwon. Every day since, he’d tormented himself, wondering if he’d been too timid when sucking that fucking candy cock. Maybe he should’ve looked like he was enjoying it. What if he just looked disgusted the whole time? What if he scowled and acted like he was eating something filthy?

Every day felt like he was skating on thin ice.

But now — he’d gotten the acceptance message.

Han was already hunched over his phone, reading the link.

Jiwon quickly clicked it too. The first thing that popped up was a confidentiality agreement. Regardless of whether he attended the final interview, he had to agree to the NDA to view any further information.

There was no reason to hesitate.

He entered his resident registration number, name, phone number, received the verification code, and signed. ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Only after that could he access the actual content.

The first thing that caught Jiwon’s eye was a number. Ten million won.

He deflated slightly. So it was about organ trafficking, after all? That amount of money didn’t go to someone like him unless it involved cutting something out. When he added the eight million he’d already received from the first and second interviews, he started thinking about the market price of various organs.

Anxiously, Jiwon kept reading the details.

The interview was scheduled for Tuesday morning — three days from now. At 10:00 a.m. Han’s would probably be around 3:30 p.m.

Unlike the first and second interviews, this time the procedure was written out in detail:

[Interviewees are reminded to maintain strict confidentiality. Leaking the location, time, or date of the interview will result in cancellation and breach penalty.

※ Dress code: Same as the first and second interview.

※ Location: Manjo Building, Sagye-dong, Yongnam City. Exact interview room will be confirmed at the first-floor guard desk.

※ Preparation: Enema. You must cleanse your bowels thoroughly to ensure no residue is present. If any residue is detected during insertion, the interview will be canceled immediately.

※ Interview procedure: Undress and wear a mask. Insert the dildo shown in the photo into your anus. There are three sizes: small, medium, and large. You must insert them in order. Small and medium must be inserted to the base; large only needs to be inserted halfway to count.

Oil provided. Shower available. No physical contact with others.

Only those who complete the final interview will receive 10,000,000 KRW in cash. Those who quit midway will receive 2,000,000 KRW per completed stage. If insertion fails or residue is found, the interview ends and 100,000 KRW in travel compensation is given.]

Enema. Insertion.

As soon as he read those words, Jiwon gave up the organ trafficking theory. Instead, he remembered the massive penis-shaped candy he’d sucked during the second interview. The “large” dildo in the photo was exactly that size. He’d managed to get it into his mouth, but there was no way that thing was meant for a human body.

Fuck. The word slipped out without thinking.

Since they’d signed the NDA, neither said a word. Even Han, who had once opened Jiwon’s notes to check his status, stayed quiet this time. With ten million won on the line, it made sense. One careless word, and you’d be saddled with a 300-million-won debt. No one was taking that risk.

And if the people running this shitshow were the same as that Maybach client — then yeah, they could definitely make that debt stick.

Jiwon, who knew exactly how far loan sharks would go, believed every line in that agreement.

“Hyung, I gotta go. I’ve been out too long. See you later.”

Han took off from the convenience store in a hurry, like he had urgent business.

Jiwon watched him disappear, then lowered his head to the table.

He had to do it. Of course he would. But the disgust clawing at his insides wouldn’t let go.

Fuck. Fuck.

And right on cue, his arm throbbed. He couldn’t live off painkillers forever.

He took one out, chewed it, and stood up. He started walking, just to stop himself from thinking.

As soon as he stepped outside, the heat slammed into him. The air hit his lungs like a brick. He regretted it immediately, but there was no way he could’ve stayed sitting.

Sweat poured from him just from breathing. Still, after walking a bit, the pain receded and his head cleared.

Jiwon stopped on the sidewalk and typed out a message:

[I think I can get the money.]

Then he turned and wandered toward the alley with the room salons.

Emperor Room Salon and all the other rundown joints were deserted. Staff stood around sighing, chatting, clearly bored out of their minds.

No one mistook Jiwon for a customer, but every time he passed someone, their eyes tracked him. Just a bored crowd making their own assumptions.

He worried someone might recognize him. Eventually, he gave up and headed back to the one place that felt safest and most familiar — the convenience store. At that moment, it felt even cozier than his goshiwon.

His phone vibrated.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four.

Five.

It wasn’t a message. It was a call.

Jiwon stared at the screen as it lit up with the name:

“Fucking Bastard.”

He watched it go to missed call.

His stomach twisted tight.