Substitute-Chapter 45

Honorary Chairman Kwak Hoon

Still active in his role, but calling himself “Honorary Chairman,” Kwak Hoon studied the photographs with deep focus. At his age, he preferred things he could hold in his hands over digital devices—photos were always printed, documents always on paper. That didn’t mean he rejected the digital altogether. The way he saw it, if technology advanced, it only made sense to keep up.

Hadn’t the way people dated evolved from handwritten letters to phone calls, to text messages, and now to video calls?

Even so, Kwak Hoon believed real romance happened face-to-face.

What kind of love didn’t involve smelling someone’s skin? Tsk.

He adjusted his magnifying glasses.

The photos were of men’s chests, freshly tattooed.

The first and second days after getting a tattoo were always his favorite. The swollen areolae, the taut nipples. The breasts—flat, but full. Not quite large enough to be called "breasts," technically speaking, but Kwak Hoon preferred to call them that regardless.

He was obsessively fixated on breasts. Not like other men, who chased after D-cups or F-cups the size of dairy cows. He preferred a rarer taste—something petite, something that could fit in one hand. Regardless of size, the nipples had to be plump, and the areolae wide.

Yeonseo had been exactly that. It was as if God knew his preferences and handed the boy to him as a gift. What man was born with a chest like that?

Ah. He missed Yeonseo’s breasts. The boy had always said they were his greatest lifelong insecurity, but to Kwak Hoon, they were heaven. He couldn’t help but cherish and love him.

He vividly remembered the mornings he suckled at the boy’s breasts and honey.

Just two years ago, Yeonseo had been right beside him, close enough to touch...

Kwak Hoon swallowed back tears.

Not just Yeonseo.

Even the darling child, Jade, had disappeared.

Next to—or maybe even equal to—Yeonseo, Jade was someone he had truly cherished.

So this was what jealousy was.

He clicked his tongue.

They always said women were the embodiment of jealousy, but that was pure nonsense. It was men who were its true avatars—its abyss.

They didn’t just covet or hate. They killed.

That was the conclusion Kwak Hoon had reached after eighty years of living, °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° seeing, and experiencing.

“Who’s this one?”

He picked out a photo that, though the chest was a bit too lean and small for his usual tastes, still caught his eye.

Without even checking the writing on the back, Chief Kim—standing nearby—answered right away, “That’s Sailor 1.”

“Let’s see.”

He flipped it over, and sure enough, it said “Sailor 1.”

He glanced over the rim of his magnifiers at Chief Kim, who scratched his head and muttered, “He’s the skinniest one.”

“You know, they say even a village dog starts reciting poems after three years—looks like you know this better than I do now.”

He chuckled.

“Sailor 1—was he the one whose penis was severed?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kwak Hoon smacked his lips.

He liked a normal body well enough, but after doing this for so long, he had to admit that those with handicaps gave him much more enjoyment. Especially cases with mutilated genitals—they were rare and enticing. And when the chest was exactly his type too? It was perfect.

“Let’s see here...”

He looked through the rest of the photos.

One of the seven had such developed pectoral muscles that even most women would be envious. The thick nipples were to his liking, but the chest size was disappointing.

“It’ll take a while to shrink them, won’t it?”

“Yes. It takes longer to reduce than to grow. We’d need at least three months.”

“Mm. Let’s keep him on reserve for now. What’s his name?”

“He’s Sailor 5, the newest replacement.”

Again, Chief Kim answered immediately.

“You remember because he’s big?”

“Yes, sir. He’s got the biggest chest.”

“And what about this one?”

This time, Kwak Hoon handed over a photo that he was sure Kim wouldn’t be able to guess.

The chest was average. The areolae were slightly varied in size and color, but only to a degree unnoticeable to the untrained eye.

“Hmm... This one’s tough.”

After staring at it for a long moment, Kim gave up.

“I’ll take a shot in the dark then.”

He hesitated. “Sailor 7?”

“Let’s check.”

Kwak Hoon flipped the photo and widened his eyes.

“Well, would you look at that. You’ve become quite the expert.”

Chief Kim grinned and scratched his head.

“Just lucky today, I guess.”

“So modest.”

“Shall I mark the selections?”

“Yeah, might as well go with these three, since they’re already picked.”

“Shall we prepare the honey too?”

“No, let’s start with the breasts. There’s plenty of better honey out there.”

“Understood.”

“You think it’s doable? Should we give them another day?”

Kwak Hoon asked, recalling the swimming pool scene from the day before.

The bodies submerged in water had been so pretty, so exquisite, it had stirred something in his loins for the first time in a long while. He’d even hummed to himself. The image of fresh semen shooting from taut cocks and dispersing into the water was still vivid in his mind. A true work of art.

“Ah, in that case, we should be fine. Those three haven’t ejaculated in the gym at all.”

“Really? Then they should be more than ready.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure they’re prepped thoroughly.”

“Good. Nothing else to check?”

Kwak Hoon flipped the last photo.

“There is one more thing. When should we begin development?”

Kim’s question made Kwak Hoon let out a short gasp.

Damn. He’d almost forgotten the most important thing.

By “development,” Chief Kim was referring to erogenous zone training. Specifically, nipple sensitivity development in this case.

Most of the men didn’t even know their chests could be erogenous. They knew how to suck dick and take it up the ass, but not a damn thing about foreplay.

But to Kwak Hoon, foreplay and erogenous training were the most crucial parts of sex. The more developed the zones, the easier it was to come just from being touched. Man or woman, they’d be soaked down there. That was when he could unleash his obsessive need to conquer.

Yeonseo had been the same. Born with perfect breasts, but completely unaware of how to use them. So Kwak Hoon had trained him himself. Within a month, the boy was cumming just from nipple stimulation. Begged for it day and night. Remembering those days, he smiled.

He no longer had the time or energy to do it personally, so he intended to leave it to professionals. With drugs, the progress would be much faster anyway.

Besides, the chest was just the start. Starting next week, they’d begin full-body erogenous zone development.

“Start after the milking tomorrow. No need to mess with it beforehand.”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

Kwak Hoon waved a hand to dismiss him.

Chief Kim bowed politely and was about to back out of the room when he suddenly remembered something.

“Ah.”

He stopped in his tracks.

He started to step closer, but Kwak Hoon waved him off.

“What about the one with side effects?”

“None so far.”

Kwak Hoon had once been a drug dealer. Back in the day, when money was tight, he’d even sold crap like meth. But not anymore. Now, he only handled the finest quality.

Calling him just a dealer would be a mistake. He cared more about his clients’ health than anyone. Why else would he buy a pharmaceutical company?

“But yesterday... Seems like we dosed the pool a bit too much?”

He was referring to how everyone had ejaculated during the swim. He’d enjoyed it, sure, but some of the more sensitive ones might grow suspicious. And suspicion bred rumors. Some had even run away in fear before. That was what ruined the party the year Yeonseo died.

He’d taken that incident as a lesson. He invested in developing an arousal agent that couldn’t be seen or smelled. And now it was being sprayed into the air.

Of course, clinical trials had been conducted. Most of the test subjects were already sex-crazed, so they never realized their heightened arousal was from the drug.

A few died during the tests, but aside from those, especially among healthy men in their twenties, side effects were nearly nonexistent.

Even so, he prepared meticulously. During the final health screenings before recruitment, they checked for allergic reactions to the compound. After all, it entered through the nose, mouth, and skin, and would ultimately be absorbed into the organs.

He didn’t want to see his prized assets drop dead before they could bloom.

If they were going to die, they’d better do it after the party. Damn right.

“No, sir. I think the airborne molecules dissolved into the water and intensified the effect.”

“Ah, right. That drug pairs well with water, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, although oil is technically the best. I’ll make sure to adjust the dose accordingly next time.”

“No, leave the pool as it is.”

For now, they were only spraying small amounts in specific zones under specific conditions.

Like when they fitted the chastity cages and delivered electric shocks three days ago, or today during the tattooing—only when pain was involved. But the gym and the swimming pool, where the boys had come without even touching themselves? Those were always active spray zones. There was no better place for a visual treat, and it helped craft even more stimulating scenes. And the results had far exceeded expectations.

Everywhere else, they maintained clean zones. They didn’t want the boys getting overstimulated and wasting their stamina before the party even started. So they paid close attention to where, when, and how much was sprayed.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. It looked good. Still, better safe than sorry—adjust the swim schedule to focus on beginners. We don’t want anyone riding floaties at the party.”

“Understood.”

After sending Kim out, Kwak Hoon reluctantly unfolded the morning paper.

These days, newspapers bored him. Once upon a time, he’d check the headlines first thing in the morning. Now, it wasn’t until late evening that he finally opened it, just to avoid the discomfort of skipping it altogether. Even a cursory glance at the headlines helped bring closure to his day.

It felt like just yesterday he was starting the day with the paper. Now it was how he ended it.

Guess I really am getting old.

Time was ruthless.

But he didn’t feel old per se.

He still jogged every morning and boxed three times a week. He’d put on a bit of weight, sure, but he was still muscular. His libido wasn’t what it once was, but compared to his peers, he was practically in his prime.

His peers. Old men.

He gave a bitter smile.

Dding~ Dding~

An alert rang from his tablet.

He glanced at the clock. Exactly 10:00 a.m.

Every day at this time, his grandson Tan posted the next day’s schedule. The kid even put stars next to the "fun" parts so his grandpa wouldn’t miss anything. What a thoughtful boy.

Schedule for August 16

Ah. Liberation Day.

Kwak Hoon used to get invited to Liberation Day ceremonies every year. Since last year, though, he’d been declining all invitations—not just for Liberation Day, but for everything.

He wasn’t so out of it that he’d forgotten the date.

A bitter taste filled his mouth.

It wasn’t because he was born in 1944 that the day meant anything special. It was because of his sister.

His half-sister, born just a year after him, had been born on Liberation Day. Half-sibling or not, she was the one he’d been closest to—his truest match in temperament.

She died young, after a life of hardship on his behalf. If she’d just lived three more years, she could’ve sat atop a mountain of riches and eaten like a queen. He’d have spoiled her for the rest of her life.

His eyes grew misty.

To think he’d forgotten her birthday.

Maybe he really was done for. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

He lost all desire to look at the schedule.

He powered off the tablet and sank into the sofa.

His sister. His lover. And that child.

Everyone he’d ever loved was dead.

Kwak Hoon wept in silence.