Chapter 21: Family Gathering
Namdong District Police Chief Do Yoon-jung was soone Go Muyeol had described as “a woman who gives the best head and fucks like a dream,” but at ho, she was a remarkably dull and emotionless person.
Her morning routine began at precisely 6 AM.
The mont her alarm rang, she opened her eyes and stepped into the living room.
No murmuring about "Just five more minutes," no curling back into the sheets.
Even if external factors disrupted her routine, she would never allow herself to waver.
A stark contrast to the way she lted into Muyeol’s arms.
Her house wasn’t at the level of a chaebol’s opulent mansion, but it was undeniably luxurious.
Still, it was tastefully done—not excessive to the point of exuding nouveau riche vulgarity.
The interior was a mix of warm, antique wooden furniture and a slightly old-fashioned aesthetic rather than modern minimalism. It had a calming effect on her, even in the early hours of the morning.
"You're up."
Despite the early hour, every light in the house was already on.
Since she, the head of the household, rose at 6 AM, the household staff had to wake up even earlier—no later than 5 AM—to prepare.
"Good morning."
"Yes, good morning."
Acknowledging the greeting with a nod, she walked into the kitchen’s adjoining dining area, where her husband was setting the table.
"You're awake, honey."
She gave a slight nod in response.
Her husband, a full-ti homaker, quickly pulled out a chair for her.
Do Yoon-jung naturally took a seat and unfolded the neatly stacked newspaper on the table.
A physical newspaper in the year 2076? How archaic—
One might think so, but they were surprisingly popular.
Of course, digital dia was vastly superior for convenience and accessibility.
But there was sothing irreplaceable about the texture of paper—the unique scent, the crisp yet rough feel, the fluttering sound of the pages as they turned.
And most of all, the upper echelons of society adored analog.
Since she needed to sell herself to those at the top, she, too, embraced analog culture.
Having household staff instead of dostic robots was an extension of the sa sentint.
"Where's Yoon-ah?"
"Uh… She’s still sleeping, I think. I’ll go wake her up."
Her husband disappeared into their daughter’s room while Do Yoon-jung focused on the newspaper.
“…Mother.”
When her daughter and husband returned, she folded the paper and checked the ti.
6:06 AM.
She had woken at 6 AM, but her daughter was running late.
"You're late."
"…I’m sorry."
Her daughter hung her head, looking downcast.
Her husband tried to interject.
"Co on, she just finished her CSATs and got into the police academy—"
"Which is exactly why she shouldn’t be slacking off. This is only the beginning. What will happen if she starts slipping already?"
"…"
"Tsk."
"Sit down."
"Yes, Mother."
With that, the family sat down for breakfast.
But there was no conversation.
Do Yoon-jung ate with her phone in one hand, while her husband and daughter remained silent, picking at their als in discomfort.
After the suffocating al, she called her daughter into her room.
The girl followed, her head hanging low, bracing for a scolding.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.
"Co here."
Do Yoon-jung led her daughter to stand in front of a full-length mirror.
Years of strict discipline had ensured she always maintained perfect posture.
Even if one didn’t know she was her daughter, she was an undeniably outstanding young woman.
A delicate face with striking features.
A body with flawless proportions.
Had she been a man, she would undoubtedly desire a woman like this.
"Hmm. Absolutely perfect."
"…"
A rare sight—Do Yoon-jung smiling.
It was sothing rarely seen at ho.
That Do Yoon-jung, showing genuine admiration?
Is… she happy?
It was an unfamiliar feeling.
Even when she had presented stellar grades,
Even when she had made grave mistakes and received punishnt,
Do Yoon-jung had never once shown emotion.
She rely reacted as she was supposed to, like a machine.
But today…
"Truly perfect, my daughter."
She ran her hands over her daughter's form.
Starting from her face, down to her shoulders, then her collarbone—
She let her fingers glide over the fabric covering her chest, tracing the contours before moving along her smooth waist and toned stomach.
There was nothing indecent about it.
She wasn’t ogling her daughter with lust.
She admired her like a sculptor appreciating a masterpiece.
"Take a good look, Yoon-ah. This is the body you must maintain. Do you understand?"
"Yes… Mother."
A bizarre feeling.
Yet, as a daughter raised to obey, she simply nodded.
"Good. Never forget what I’ve taught you. Especially when it cos to purity. That is paramount. Do. Not. Ever. Give it away freely."
"Yes, Mother."
Do Yoon-jung, satisfied, gently stroked her daughter's hair.
"Co New Year's, we will be visiting soone."
"Visiting… soone?"
"Yes. Soone you must serve. You were born for this purpose."
"…Yes, Mother."
After thoroughly drilling this into her daughter, Do Yoon-jung left the room and headed for the bathroom to prepare for work.
Her husband had overheard everything.
Not intentionally—
He had gone to check if she was scolding their daughter too harshly.
But what he heard instead was…
"Visiting soone"…?
He didn’t know who that “soone” was.
But he could take a wild guess about what it ant.
"No way… It can’t be, Yoon-jung…!"
His wife was the type to view even her own body as a bargaining chip for career advancent.
Offering herself up was nothing special to her.
And if a woman like that was telling their daughter "You were born for this purpose" while emphasizing purity?
"This… This is too much, Yoon-jung…"
His wife sleeping with other n?
He had swallowed that bitter pill and pretended not to see.
But their daughter, too?
That was sothing…
He could never accept.
December 25th—Christmas Day.
Unfortunately, Christmas was no longer a public holiday.
During World War III, South Korea had drastically reduced its holidays, and the effects remained to this day.
There had been attempts to reinstate it,
But every ti, the proposal was shot down.
The primary reason?
It was deed too religious.
After all, Christmas was supposed to be the birthday of Jesus.
But in modern Incheon—no, in South Korea as a whole—Christianity had virtually disappeared.
With scientific advancents, religious faith had waned.
Even before, South Korea had an exceptionally high percentage of atheists.
Now, 80 to 90 percent of the population identified as irreligious.
Incheon was even worse.
It had beco a city of depravity, a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah.
So naturally, Christmas had been reduced to just another day.
For the sa reason, Buddha’s Birthday was also no longer a public holiday.
"Christmas… forgotten, just like that."
Up until a few days ago, I had been thinking about Christmas.
It was a famous holiday.
I expected the atmosphere to change, for there to be celebrations.
I even wondered how to make the most debauched use of the occasion.
But then… Nothing happened.
At first, I thought it was because of China.
The chaos in Shanghai had been hogging all the attention.
But no—people had simply forgotten.
Christmas was no longer celebrated.
People were too busy, burdened with work and responsibilities.
Not that it was devastating.
Just… a little disappointing.
"We've arrived, Master."
As I stepped out of the AV, a group of people was already waiting for .
Above, endless cargo shipnts crisscrossed the sky.
The ground was bustling with activity.
"Every ti I co here, it feels different."
Namdong Industrial Complex Reconstruction Zone.
The core site, where the integrated headquarters would be built, had made considerable progress.
And soon…
I had a eting with soone.
Do Yoon-jung was coming in person.
Maybe, just maybe, I could replace the stationed forces with Namdong police.
That would make acquiring "items" much easier.
And then…
There she was.
That woman.
Just the sight of her made my cock twitch.
No surprise—she was, without a doubt, the best fuck I’d ever had.
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