TFN C82

Chapter 82

 

The man greedily swallowed his penis.

Without hesitation, he took it in all the way to the root in one go.

Instead of the fear that it might be bitten off if he so much as tensed his teeth, Wonhyo let out a scream as the pleasure surged to the crown of his head.

“Ah—!”

The man chewed at the base of the shaft with his lips, as if savoring it.

Wonhyo’s trembling knees reflexively drew together, but the firm hands pressing against his inner thighs stopped him.

They spread him open and pinned him down, rendering him completely immobile, while the man devoured him with insatiable hunger.

It felt as if he were being eaten alive.

With the way that greedy mouth worked, Wonhyo thought his penis might actually melt and be swallowed whole.

He buried his fingers into the black hair swaying before his eyes.

Faint cries spilled continuously from his half-open mouth as he rubbed his dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

Pleasure built rapidly.

After licking up the length of his penis for a long time, the man finally released it, only to suck in his tightened scrotum chilled by the cool air.

“Hah… ah!”

Though it was nothing more than pushing and pulling against the thin layer of skin, the stimulation was unbearable. His back arched.

Spreading his legs more blatantly, as though begging for more, Wonhyo pressed strength into the tips of his toes.

“Don’t come yet.”

As if that were something he could control.

Through blurred vision, Wonhyo looked at the man. The corners of the man’s mouth curved upward in a dangerously amused smile.

He quickly tried to roll away and escape, but it was futile.

The man didn’t hesitate.

Just as the pleasure was about to overflow, the man cruelly pressed a finger against the opening, holding it shut as he laughed.

His lips trailed over Wonhyo’s entire body—

from his toes, the tops of his feet, calves, knees, and thighs, up to his lower abdomen, over his swollen nipples, along his throat, his lips, the tip of his nose, both cheeks, and even his earlobes.

As if he intended to taste every last inch, the man moved over him, devouring him whole.

Pleasure surged deep enough to drown in, flooding through him and then vanishing in an instant, and Wonhyo climaxed.

The tip of his penis was still blocked tight, unable to release, yet his vision burst into flashing lights.

“Ah—! No, no…”

Heat and chill tangled through his trembling body, and he could barely form words.

Wonhyo pleaded desperately—he didn’t even know if he was begging to be saved or to be killed. His mind was a chaotic mess of incoherent words spilling out uncontrollably.

They weren’t even proper sentences anymore.

While he was still lost in that delirium, the man’s penis thrust deep into his body in one swift motion, and Wonhyo came violently.

As he drenched the man’s hand, his entire body tightened as though to crush and cut the man’s cock inside him. The man only laughed and moved his hips harder, pounding into him without restraint.

The sharp scent of semen filled the air. Wonhyo’s moans and cries were swallowed up as he flailed his arms, and the man caught him, pulling him close.

As if something inside him had broken, Wonhyo spread his arms and wrapped them around the man’s neck—

as though by doing so, he could have everything.

“Does this man… not know the meaning of moderation…?”

A hoarse voice echoed weakly in the air.

Wonhyo rubbed his nose against the pillow and, still drowsy, lifted his warm, languid body.

After being tormented endlessly while the man came three times, his abused penis ached faintly.

He stripped off his damp underwear and tossed it into the laundry basket.

The cold air against his bare skin made him shiver, and though he wanted to crawl back under the blanket, the sticky discomfort was worse.

With a sigh, Wonhyo dragged himself to the bathroom.

After standing under the stream of water for quite a while, he emerged feeling anything but refreshed—he felt like someone who had lost half his stamina overnight.

If an awakened being could see his HP bar, at least 30 to 50 percent of it would’ve been gone, he thought.

He rummaged through the fridge, pulled out a chocolate bar, and bit into it as he checked the time.

It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet.

“The sun’s up, but it’s still so dark…”

Throwing on a light T-shirt and pants, Wonhyo opened the window.

Thick clouds had gathered ominously. Seeing the gloomy sky, he decided to prepare thoroughly before going out today.

It wasn’t exactly a bad omen, but something about it pricked at his nerves.

Moments like this made him regret his quest penalty.

If he had stronger means to defend himself, maybe he wouldn’t feel so uneasy. Lacking that sense of security made it hard to act boldly.

He could have handled ignorance—but after feeling the weight of those restraints, getting even a brief taste of freedom only made the burden heavier when it returned.

Even though the penalty was the same as before.

Still, having Cheongmun’s support as a lifeline was something to be thankful for.

Ruffling his half-dried hair, Wonhyo quickly got ready.

It had been a while since he’d worked with the police, so he felt a bit nervous.

And worse, the contact through his uncle about quietly meeting the perpetrator had fallen through.

Before the case was consolidated under the Special Investigation Headquarters, they’d been able to meet suspects separately at the Dongdaemun Station, but not anymore.

Allowing arbitrary visits to the detention center might risk losing crucial evidence in the investigation.

Because of that, the meeting was to be held at the newly built annex of the National Police Agency in Yongsan—

where the Special Investigation Headquarters’ office was located.

Wonhyo emptied his inventory, packing only what was necessary and nothing more.

For emergencies, he filled the bracelet Cheongmun had given him with water.

It could store up to two liters, and aside from that, he had nothing else to keep except a few talismans.

Once he was done preparing, Wonhyo called for an unmanned taxi.

Since Cheongmun was also meeting him in Yongsan, all he needed to do was message him before departure.

It wasn’t far from the Special Agency, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first.

[Heading out now.]

[-Understood. See you at the annex.]

A reply came immediately.

After locking the front door and stepping out to the street, Wonhyo waited as the taxi climbed up the hill.

Parking in the underground lot, Cheongmun stepped into the elevator heading upstairs.

The annex of the National Police Agency in Yongsan was a familiar place to him—no need to wander around.

Except, of course, for the hassle of passing through the security zone and submitting his ID.

After receiving his visitor’s pass, he stepped into the lobby, and several gazes turned his way.

Even though it was called an annex, it housed many high-ranking officials, so he saw quite a few familiar faces.

Not that anyone came rushing over to greet him warmly.

Given the unique nature of the Special Agency and the quasi-judicial authority of its Special Investigators, they were treated as near-pariahs in the civil service world.

“Oh? Team Leader Lee?”

But one of them inevitably called out to him.

“Good morning,” Cheongmun greeted lightly.

“What brings you here? Got a case tied to the Special Investigation Headquarters?”

The man was a counterterrorism team executive who often collaborated on the capture of awakened criminals known as “villains.” Cheongmun shook his head.

“Not quite. I’m here regarding a case the Special Investigation Unit is handling.”

“The Special Unit? What kind of case would need you personally? Sounds serious.”

“I’m not sure yet. I came to confirm whether it’s connected to something our side is monitoring.”

“Really? Well, if it’s anything like that Incheon Harbor incident, share the details sooner, will you?”

“If it’s an awakened explosives case, it’ll be reported simultaneously to nineteen departments anyway.”

“Exactly. But the Coastal Defense Team’s been griping again. Same with the Airborne Brigade.”

The counterterror chief shook his head in exasperation.

“As if starting from Seoul were some kind of crime.”

Cheongmun exhaled quietly, and the man gave a helpless laugh.

“Anyway, it’s not our job, so I’ll take my leave. See you at the next joint training.”

“I look forward to it,” Cheongmun replied calmly.

At that, the man flinched and hurried off, clearly dreading the thought.

Cheongmun opened his status window and checked Wonhyo’s location.

It wasn’t updated in real-time, so there was some margin of error while moving, but seeing that he was near Samgakji, Cheongmun figured he’d be there soon.

He sent a message to the contact he’d gotten from the Mapo Station’s Investigation Division Chief.

He knew a few people at Dongdaemun Station, but not the one handling this case.

After he texted that he’d be arriving shortly, the reply came unexpectedly fast—

someone was coming out to greet him.

“Coming to meet me, huh,” he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

It probably wasn’t out of kindness or courtesy.

More likely a warning, not a welcome—meant to keep outsiders cautious rather than comfortable.

Cheongmun turned toward the lobby entrance, searching for whoever was approaching.

Not far away, a broad-shouldered man with a brisk stride was making his way toward him—

the kind of physique that made it clear he’d worked in Major Crimes or Narcotics.

He didn’t seem to be awakened, but his body bore the marks of rigorous training.

Stepping out past the security barrier, Cheongmun approached the detective scanning the area.

“Good morning.”

“Oh—good morning! You’re the one who texted?”

“Yes. Lee Cheongmun, Special Judicial Investigator, Special Agency.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Detective Choi Chan from Dongdaemun Station’s Major Crimes Division.”

They exchanged handshakes. Though Detective Choi seemed momentarily taken aback by the gloves covering the backs of Cheongmun’s hands, he quickly brushed it off.

Looking around, Choi asked, “The shaman introduced by Chief Park from Mapo Station—has he not arrived yet?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

“I see.” Choi glanced toward the exit.

Cheongmun followed his gaze and spoke.

“By the way, we were expecting to meet directly at the Eastern Detention Center. Is there a reason we’re meeting here instead?”

Choi’s face hardened, his eyes flicking toward the inner corridor.

“The situation’s gotten worse. There was some unrest at the detention center, and some suggested it’d be safer to transfer the suspect for treatment rather than keep him in solitary. Once the court’s decision comes through, he’ll be moved straight to the National Forensic Psychiatric Hospital.”

“So most are seeing it as a case of mental instability.”

“Well… yes, that’s how it looks.”

Choi lifted his shoulders slightly.

“Personally, I trust Chief Park’s word. I’ve seen enough in this job to know when to ask for help—but this isn’t a call I can make alone anymore.”

Cheongmun could understand that.

If he hadn’t witnessed it himself, even he would have doubted.

Apparently, there’d been significant pushback against his proposal to bring Wonhyo in to meet the suspect.

“There’s been plenty of talk even about granting us access to the case files… you might hear some things once you’re inside, but don’t mind them.”

“I’m curious to see if there’s anyone here who could actually afford to say such things to me,” Cheongmun said evenly.

Choi flinched at the calm tone and glanced at him quickly.

Just then, Cheongmun turned his head toward the unmanned taxi that had pulled up outside.

“The person we’ve been waiting for has arrived.”