TSBIRBV Ch 118(NSFW)

Chapter 118 More Than a Drama (6)(NSFW)

The Black Ghost’s proposal was, in truth, no different from the answer Yegyeol had been seeking.

To so calmly state that he would investigate it meant, ultimately, that nothing had happened between Senior Brother and Hwangbo Yak-rin. If there really had been a child, then instead of toying with Yegyeol here and now, tossing out flirtatious remarks, he would have brushed him off with some excuse about urgent matters and left without a second glance.

His strength drained from him. He felt as though he could collapse into unconsciousness at any moment. From the journey back from Hangzhou all the way until now, Yegyeol had been unable to release the tension in his chest, endlessly imagining every possible “what if.”

It’s over now.

Chaebong would not steal Senior Brother away from him.

Right then, the Black Ghost lowered his voice suggestively.

“If you wish, before that Senior Brother of yours even learns of the existence of this so-called family, I could remove her without a trace.”

No—that was going too far…

“It is a special service,” he continued smoothly, “available only to honored guests of the Black Market.”

Startled, Yegyeol quickly tried to dissuade him.

“Just… just finding out whether she’s really Senior Brother’s daughter is enough. That’s all I need.”

He repeated it as if swearing an oath, clutching the Black Ghost’s arm tightly, clinging to him.

“You must never kill her. Do you understand?”

Of course. Of course.

Hwangbo Yak-rin had clearly taken a rabbit-like husband, and now her daughter Hwangbo Yulhui was growing up safe in a harmonious household. What right did he have to disturb that? Yegyeol even thought he ought to pray for Yulhui’s long life and good fortune from now on.

But still… If she has no connection to Senior Brother, then why does Chaebong’s daughter look so much like him?

They say under heaven there will always be three people with nearly identical faces, but Je Haryang and Hwangbo Yulhui—the two resembled each other far, far too closely.

“Daughter?”

The Black Ghost tilted his head slightly, as if rolling the word around on his tongue. There was clearly some unspoken speculation running through his mind that Yegyeol could not fathom.

Ah… come to think of it, Senior Brother did have that hidden secret about his birth.

Could it be—

Conveniently, the Black Ghost burst into booming laughter. Yegyeol forced himself to focus only on the man before him.

“Surely you didn’t think I meant to kill her?” he said. “I simply meant I could twist information and witnesses a little, severing any perceived ties between them. That’s all.”

His ability to spin words that stole away Yegyeol’s wits—perhaps to cover whatever thought had truly crossed his mind—was impeccable.

“It would take a great deal of effort, but I could erase the connection so thoroughly that no one would suspect. No need to kill anyone, which keeps curious eyes at bay.”

Realizing he had been teased, Yegyeol glared at him.

“…Tell me what I must pay in return.”

Impatience was written plain across his face—he only wanted this matter settled quickly.

Haryang curved his lips into a crooked smile.

“For now… strip.”

“…H-here? Right here?”

Yegyeol glanced quickly around, flustered.

Even if it was a private suite, the sliding doors were only a single thin layer. The corridor outside was busy with people coming and going. The sun had set; the tavern’s night was just beginning. Customers would soon flood in, and the workers of this establishment would be constantly passing back and forth.

“If the place doesn’t suit you,” the Black Ghost replied smoothly, “you’re welcome to look elsewhere for someone to help you, instead of me.”

He knew perfectly well there was no one else Yegyeol could turn to. Wherever he went, whoever he sought, both process and result were already in Haryang’s grasp.

“If… if I make a sound, people passing by will hear.”

His eyes brimmed as though tears might fall, though none did.

The Black Ghost clicked his tongue.

“I haven’t even told you what must be done, and already your head is filled with thoughts of crying out.”

“You—you told me to undress… to take my clothes off, didn’t you?” Yegyeol forced the words out, swallowing down his shame.

“I suppose I’ll be lenient,” the Black Ghost said at last, as if granting a concession.

“Only remove your trousers, and pull up your shirt to bite between your teeth. That will help.”

Yegyeol lowered his gaze in resignation. Yet inwardly, he almost rejoiced.

He had been left in a state of aching frustration for too long. The fire Haryang had stoked in his body before they left Hangzhou had not cooled in the slightest; it gnawed away at his self-control.

With slow inevitability, he pushed down his trousers, exposing pale legs. In his previous life, his complexion had been darker, and so he reflexively curled inward, self-conscious.

He had too many secrets hidden from Senior Brother, and this was merely one of them. Each time he tasted happiness, the thought that one day these secrets might be exposed made his heart tremble nervously.

But for now, it’s fine. For now.

As he pulled up his shirt, his nipples came into view—faintly more prominent than before, carrying the flush of rose that clung as though no one had ever touched them. Yet he could not return to the innocence of a time when he felt no arousal, and so the situation itself made his body burn.

Perhaps another would not notice the difference, but Haryang took satisfaction in seeing that the color he had once imprinted upon him still remained.

He shoved Yegyeol backward. The disciple collapsed onto the table, trapped between Haryang’s arms, while the Black Ghost swept aside the bottles of liquor that had littered the space. Some were empty, but others still spilled across the floor.

Unbothered by his clothes soaking in the spillage, the Black Ghost savored the sight before him.

Yegyeol squeezed his legs together and turned his head away. With his shirt gripped in his teeth, his jaw was clenched, and the side profile bore even a trace of grim resolve.

Knowing how easily he melted, the Black Ghost longed to bite those soft cheeks, to mark them. Each time Yegyeol’s skin flushed beneath his touch, the desire to paint it further surged within him.

Chasing after the disciple, driven by restless suspicion and hunger, Haryang had finally chosen the most fitting “price.”

“I want to watch Young Master Moon pleasure himself.”

“M-m-masturbate?”

Yegyeol accidentally let the cloth fall from his mouth as he echoed the word.

“Surely you don’t mean you don’t know what masturbation is?”

“…I do.”

The fact that the last time he had touched himself this way had been in Haryang’s arms made it impossible to dismiss as coincidence. This was nothing but Je Haryang’s spite.

He wanted to force Yegyeol to recall it.

“I’ll… I’ll do it.”

Gathering himself, Yegyeol pulled his shirt back between his teeth and slowly recalled the words Haryang had once spoken.

“Relax your body, lean back.”

He reclined, and the cold surface of the table pressed against his back.

“Spread your legs… that’s it.”

Though he felt a twinge of resistance, Yegyeol parted his thighs. His smooth skin seemed to release a faintly sweet scent of warmth.

The Black Ghost crossed his arms and stepped back, watching with deliberate leisure, drinking in the sight of Yegyeol’s body.

“With one hand, hold it like this. Move slowly back and forth. Too roughly and your sensitive skin might chafe. Once you’re wet enough… it’s fine to be rougher.”

Yegyeol grasped his sex. Images of Senior Brother’s hand gripping a wooden practice sword flickered through his mind, but he banished them. Next, he recalled the scent that had always clung to Haryang when they trained together—the raw smell of sweat and body, which he had always found strangely comforting.

Even before he knew what it was, Yegyeol had been following Haryang with that same sense of longing.

Before he had resolved himself, his hand was already moving, slowly sliding forward and back. Not too rough, he told himself. Slowly.

Like drifting through a dream, he mirrored the movements he had once witnessed Haryang make, while the Black Ghost’s eyes devoured the sight.

“Don’t grip so tightly. Soften your touch, coax it gently…”

Desire is always impatient. Yegyeol grew restless.

Wet… I need to be wet.

A faint whimper slipped from between his lips. Even muffled by the fabric, it carried a strangely erotic note. The heavy scent of liquor filling the room made his unclouded head feel dizzy.

His Guide sat right there, within arm’s reach, yet moved not a finger to aid him. The thought made him ache all the more.

Squirming alone in search of release, he felt frustration gnaw at him.

Just a little more. Just a little more…!

Pleasure swelled at the brink of overflowing, but never quite spilled over.

And he knew why.

His body, spoiled by his Guide’s touch, could no longer find satisfaction on its own.

Sweat dripped down his face in place of tears.

“As I suspected—you really don’t know how to touch yourself.”

The Black Ghost’s sharp words struck as he watched Yegyeol writhe like a young beast.

Yegyeol froze, confused.

But I did exactly what Senior Brother taught me…

For once obedient, he was bewildered. The cloth slipped from his lips as his mouth fell open.

The Black Ghost reached out, grasping his legs and lifting them. Unlike Haryang’s touch, the Black Ghost’s thick, heavy fingers pressed against his perineum, edging toward the rear.

“Here. You should be touching back here.”

The grin he wore bared his teeth, his face vicious.

Unquenched hunger seemed to flicker within his eyes.

“You don’t feel much from touching the front alone, do you?”

In Hangzhou, the man who had taught him to masturbate had now turned the lesson upon its head.

“The… the back? But…”

Yegyeol stammered, lowering his head. The Black Ghost’s finger pressed firmly against his entrance. A shiver raced up his spine, his hips tingling. His mouth dried instantly, as though this was what he had craved all along.

“Shall I demonstrate for you as well?”

Just before pushing inside, the Black Ghost withdrew, ostentatiously pulling out a kerchief to wipe his fingers. He acted as though they had been dirtied, purely to deepen Yegyeol’s shame.

Yegyeol bit his lip. Spread across the table like a feast laid bare, half-naked and exposed, he could not even cover his face. His nape flushed scarlet, his humiliation laid bare to Haryang’s eyes.

But the answer had already been decided.

Waiting for the moment when it would be most dramatic, Yegyeol reached out for the only man he could cling to.

“…Teach… ngh! …me.”