Cheongwol belatedly made up her mind and tried to change her clothes.
Han Seojin had his eyes closed, but she worried he might open them at any moment.
Then the thought hit her—why should she have to change clothes?—and she kept hesitating.
But the more she did, the more urgent time became, and in the end, Cheongwol still hadn't pulled down the hem of her unchanged outfit.
The moment he opened his eyes, everything would be visible.
In her desperation, she ended up shouting the words she swore she'd never say, even if it killed her.
...Please give it to me.
The instant the words left her mouth, her cheeks burned like fire.
It was a pathetic surrender.
She wanted to curl up and hide.
But no matter how tightly she huddled, the outfit's scant fabric kept exposing bits here and there.
The short hem kept slipping between her legs, repeatedly baring her thighs.
She carefully pressed her knees together, only to flail in fear that the insides might show... Her hands clutching the hem trembled pitifully.
Han Seojin froze for a moment afterward, honoring her request to wait.
Now, surely, he had opened his eyes.
He was seeing her pathetic state, her shameful pose—all of it.
Cheongwol couldn't lift her head.
To salvage her pride, to shake off the humiliation, she started spilling whatever words came to mind.
"...Die."
Breathless, she squeezed out the rest.
"...I-if it weren't for the Heart Demon treatment... y-you'd be dead by my hand."
"..."
"...I-I'll never say 'p-please give it to me' again. I didn't want to show my... my body to someone as disgusting as you... I-I had no choice..."
But the more she spoke, the more it felt like flailing in mud.
She kept feeling smaller.
More wretched, more broken.
Finally unable to hold back, Cheongwol bit her lip hard and cried out.
"Say something—"
"I don't get it."
Han Seojin's voice was surprisingly calm.
His large hand grasped her arm.
The moment skin met skin, Cheongwol startled and tried to shake him off... but too vigorous a move might make her topple. That would surely flip up this short hem.
Han Seojin slowly pulled Cheongwol to her feet, and she slowly rose with him.
Clutching the front hem tight, she managed to tug it down.
Han Seojin continued.
"If people could just see these thighs, they'd love you without you lifting a finger."
At those words, heat rushed to Cheongwol's ears.
She understood now, to some extent.
They were empty words.
Praise tossed back for her shameful act.
But knowing that didn't stop her heart from pounding when he said it right in front of her.
Especially for Cheongwol, who knew no men—these lewd compliments from a man's gaze felt overwhelming and utterly foreign.
"Can I touch them?"
Cheongwol swatted his arm away.
Just those words and the mere image sent a sensation crawling up her thigh.
Staring at him in fury and humiliation laced with something strange, Cheongwol glared.
Han Seojin met her eyes and replied.
"I'm kidding."
"...Hoo... Hoo..."
"And stop standing there all awkward. Stand up straight. It's covered down there anyway."
****
I still hadn't recovered from the shock of "please give it to me."
I'd momentarily forgotten she was Cheongwol and spouted nonsense.
I wanted to touch her thighs, but that wasn't something to say in my right mind.
A slap to the cheek might snap me out of it. But I couldn't do that in front of Cheongwol.
So instead, I kept taking deep breaths.
I had to remember.
I couldn't help getting swept up in desire, but I needed to think with my dick out of the equation.
Judge coldly.
My situation first.
...I couldn't avoid Cheongwol.
I couldn't push her away.
And so we'd come down to the basement.
The SM play was in full swing, and I wanted to keep living.
I had to think about the future.
Cheongwol would soon explode in that sparring match and unleash the Extermination Sword.
And I was one of the people closest to her lately.
Meaning, when she crumbled, I'd be one of the most affected.
So what was the right choice?
"..."
...In my view, doing it like that first day would work.
Back then, using the Heart Demon relief as an excuse, I'd scratched at her torment without digging in.
Whether it worked well... come to think of it, I wasn't sure? She cried, after all.
...Anyway, since she hadn't killed me since, and her Heart Demon seemed to be easing.
I should head that way.
Offer some comfort amid the play somehow.
"...Hoo."
That was that.
I couldn't stay frozen forever.
I'd at least gotten her to change.
...Wow, but just a bit more appreciating...
...Amitabha, Amitabha.
Snap out of it.
I'd prepared rope, so time to use it.
Might as well tie those arms first.
To keep her from swinging wildly and hitting me.
I pulled out the rope.
Cheongwol's body twitched again.
Maybe because I'd warned her already.
She seemed to shrink further imagining what I was about to do.
She glared at me.
...That piss-your-pants glare every time.
Each time it hit, my surging lust cooled sharply, and survival instinct writhed fiercely.
She looked truly pissed, and pretending not to notice while adjusting intensity by my judgment was no easy task.
To overcome that fear, what I threw out was...
"...You gonna keep standing there all awkward? They're pretty, for real."
"..."
...Praise.
No one hates praise.
Every time fire flared in Cheongwol's eyes, I'd douse it with cold water like this.
Then the mood softened... just a little. A tiny bit.
Pretending calm, I approached Cheongwol.
Up close, she let out a groan.
"...Eut."
"..."
Had I ramped up the intensity?
It was a groan thick with disgust and revulsion toward me.
Rougher than usual today.
She could tolerate it somewhat at the market, but here, my attitude was pushing her anger further.
Suddenly, I got scared.
...What if she's not a masochist for real?
It was just my judgment that she was.
I still couldn't quite believe it. Cheongwol a masochist?
Seeing her hate humiliation this much, it didn't even seem like acting.
...What if she's doing this desperate-grab-at-straws for Heart Demon relief?
I looked at Cheongwol again.
Tears clung to the corners of her eyes now, brimming with frustration and exasperation.
Desperation and urgency shone through too.
The thought that she might hate all this to the point of madness froze my mind.
I moved my body first.
As planned, tie the arms.
Nothing else I could do.
Rougher than ever, Cheongwol yanked her hand free.
Trembling in fear but knowing I couldn't back down now, I grabbed her arm again.
"Stay still."
I gently pressed the rope to her skin.
"...Soft, right?"
Not rough, milady...?
"...Won't hurt. Don't worry."
I'd prepared special rope diligently, so please spare me.
"..."
Milady just breathed angry huffs, no reply.
Swallowing, I started tying her arms for the first time using the knot I'd practiced a hundred times.
The thrill of tying a person for the first time... Bullshit. I just frantically worked my hands.
Lift one arm, a light knot.
Lift the other, a light knot.
Her smooth underarms bared fully.
Not a single stray hair.
I suppressed the desire writhing at that vulnerable flesh.
...I figured it'd be clean, but the fact she maintained even spots no one sees poked some corner of my heart unexpectedly.
Definitely a heavenly woman.
...Minus the killing people part.
Cheongwol gritted her teeth, burying her face in her arms.
I could feel her suppressing rage.
The more she did, the more scared I got.
I wanted to shout.
I said I'd raise the intensity!
You came on to me!
If you hate it, get out! Why keep swallowing your anger...!
I couldn't stop.
We'd come this far; the knots had to be finished.
I tightened the rope to secure both arms properly and looped it over the ceiling beam.
First restraint complete.
"...Haa... Haa..."
Cheongwol's breaths were rougher than mine already.
She twitched, testing her arms, but the knots held firm.
I stepped back a pace first.
One eye buried in her arm, she glared at me sharply with the other.
I wasn't the type to sense energy... but that was definitely killing intent.
Looking into those eyes, I thought.
...Guess she's not a masochist. Really not.
Fuck, what now.
No way she'd give that look otherwise...
...Huh?
Then the sight that followed melted my tension in one breath.
Ah, thank you, God.
...She is a masochist.
****
Cheongwol couldn't describe the feeling as her arms were bound.
With each loop of Han Seojin's rope around her body, freedom slipped away bit by bit.
That suffocation restrained her.
Control over herself was slowly stolen by him.
It was so anxious and scary she could barely endure.
Of course, channeling her qi might snap it all.
But that was just a maybe.
No matter how much qi she gathered, unless a supreme expert, she couldn't cleave mountains.
Even as a first-rate martial artist, Cheongwol might not break the ropes coiling her body.
And fighting that fear to push forward...
Before she knew it, she hated this.
Utterly different from prior games.
She hadn't expected restraint this strong, this blatant.
Her outfit was beyond embarrassing—breathlessly shameful.
The hem barely covering her privates, legs exposed from both sides.
Now with arms bound overhead, even underarms bared... This was humiliation.
A feeling she'd never known as the Thousand-Year Flower.
Along with it, indescribable sensations crawled her body.
Hot, uncontrollable, twisting her... strange feelings.
All firsts.
Then Cheongwol watched Han Seojin step back after tying her arms.
Her exposed underarms shamed her; she tugged her arms but... they were bound tight.
She couldn't hide even if she wanted.
Why had she allowed this?
Regret already.
Showing her underarms to a man... no, anyone... was a first.
Flesh no one ever saw.
"Haa... Haa..."
Frustrated breaths leaked.
She glared at Han Seojin, pouring her heart into it.
But even that, she couldn't face him straight.
Half her face buried in her arms from shame, the rest glared resentment.
Han Seojin asked.
"Why the hateful look?"
Cheongwol was dumbfounded.
He couldn't see this situation?
"Ughk...! Because I hate it!!"
She burst out, heart exploding.
"Y-you're insane? E-enough now. I hate it. Let's stop."
"Stop?"
"Yeah!"
Cheongwol shouted loud, but Han Seojin ignored it like it went in one ear and out the other.
"You're enjoying it, so why pretend to hate it?"
Cheongwol was floored.
How could he know her heart?
Sure, he'd spotted her Heart Demon earlier than others.
And kept comforting her struggles.
But not this time. He couldn't be this wrong.
"I hate—"
"—Cheongwol."
One word.
But that one word stopped her mouth.
Han Seojin approached slowly.
Each step tightened her breath.
When he finally stood close enough to touch, she was holding her breath.
Her heartbeat roared so loud, he might hear.
Somehow, it felt like he pierced her soul.
He spoke.
"...You."
A faint smile, whispering.
"...Look at your chest once."
At his words, Cheongwol looked down at her chest without thinking.
...And that instant, she saw her nipple peeking slightly past the pushed-aside fabric.