It was a single sentence that shattered everything.

Lee Wooshin felt like the blood had drained straight down through the soles of his feet.

He stood frozen, unable to breathe properly, and Seoryeong’s face crumpled like she might cry—only to twist immediately into hatred and disgust. Her voice trembled with fury.

"But that doesn’t make any sense..."

"......"

"How could you be my husband, Instructor?"

"......"

"After everything we’ve been through... all that we’ve done together...!"

Her voice broke, as if her throat had swelled with pain. Then she screamed.

"How can Kim Hyeon be right in front of me—!"

The pitiful, twisted scream came out distorted.

"Teaching me, scolding me, comforting me!"

"......"

"How could you hand me Kim Hyeon’s corpse—and press your bare skin against mine!"

"......"

"How could you do that to me!"

Lee Wooshin looked as though he’d swallowed poison. The fear he’d wanted to avoid most had crashed down on him with no warning.

His trembling jaw moved aimlessly. He didn’t want to accept it, couldn’t accept it. A sick wave of nausea surged in his throat.

Is this how it ends? Us, like this? Just like this? With every panicked breath, it felt like hot volcanic ash was searing his lungs. A crushing pain engulfed him like a punishment long overdue.

"Just—wait, Seoryeong—"

"Don’t call me that...! And don’t you dare touch me."

Seoryeong, her eyes desperate to stab someone, yanked Kiya toward her.

"......!"

Kiya, smiling with lowered lids, opened his mouth eagerly—and their tongues tangled in an obscene kiss. Chup, chuup—wet, nasty sounds echoed. Seoryeong made a show of swallowing his spit.

"Haah... Sonia, Sonia... more...!"

"――!"

Even with that unfolding in front of him, Lee Wooshin couldn’t move under the weight of Seoryeong’s direct, gun-barrel stare. His body felt petrified, like it had been cast in stone.

Like he was receiving the price of deception, he stood there, nailed to the floor, unable to move. His fists clenched so tightly his bones jutted out white.

"...Han Seoryeong, that’s enough—"

Kiya, his cock fully hard, was grinding against her lower body with a moan. He quickly stripped off his clothes and yanked down hers.

"That’s enough... that’s enough... Come here, come back..."

Wooshin’s voice trembled, crushed beneath skull-breaking pressure. But Seoryeong just stared at him like she was laughing at an actor exposed mid-performance.

Her slim, precise fingers slipped into a narrow space and—

"Ahh...!"

Their ragged breaths, the heat between them—Lee Wooshin’s vision boiled scarlet. Another man’s saliva ran down the corners of her mouth. Even while telling himself this was punishment, a murderous rage he couldn’t control surged inside.

Piecing his broken thoughts back together, he finally forced the words out.

"Lie there, and you’ll end up drenched in that bastard’s blood."

Even the cold threat didn’t stop Seoryeong. She simply crossed her arms and took off her top. Her breasts fell in soft waves—and Kiya lunged at them, mouth wide.

"You fucking bastard...!"

Lee Wooshin couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a wooden chair and smashed it over the back of Kiya’s head. Then again. That was the limit of what his frozen body could manage.

But even as the legs of the chair snapped, Kiya refused to let go—suckling at her until her nipples were swollen and misshapen. The doggedness of it was filthy, beastly.

Under that red tongue, his wife’s nipples were crushed. Seoryeong flinched and shut her eyes, while Kiya eagerly devoured her. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

That filthy fucking dog...!

The fury roared beyond control, but Wooshin could do nothing. His gaze locked on Kiya’s pulsing carotid, but his body simply wouldn’t respond.

What kind of drug did that bastard use? If he could, he’d stab himself just to break the paralysis. All the while, the slick, slurping sounds filled the room.

"Han Seoryeong... just hit me again, destroy me...!"

"Mmnh...!"

"Just—don’t show me that. Fuck. Let it kill me instead...!"

"Then... that’s exactly what I’m doing, huh—ah."

At that moment, her body flipped. Kiya pinned Seoryeong beneath him—and thrust straight into her without warning. Hhgh...! A moan escaped her lips.

Greedy hands kneaded her breasts, found her mouth again. Seoryeong kept kissing him, lewdly, as she stared right at her husband. Their lips glistened with mixed saliva. Her expression stayed blank—but lust burned across her skin.

"More... give me more... harder...! Ah, ah...!"

From her ears to {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} her collarbone to her nipples, her whole body was flushed red.

"Nngh... ugh...! More...!"

The begging in her voice made him nauseous. Thrust, thrust—the pounding grew faster, and her body rocked with each impact.

Wooshin squeezed his eyes shut. The veins at his jawline bulged, threatening to burst.

"Mmgh, ha, ah... ah!"

The old bed creaked violently under the thrusts. The priest gripped her hips, spreading her ass as he slammed deeper. Seoryeong whimpered and squirmed, breath hot with discomfort.

"Ahh, ngh... ah...!"

Kiya kept stroking her calves as he drilled into her. Each wet squelch of her insides shredded Wooshin’s composure. Never. Not like this. Never.

"Nngh... there, right there... hngh...!"

He burned her voice into his ruined chest. Like this, he could neither let her go, nor live without her. He repeated that to himself like a curse.

His whole body was tense with restraint. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot. Even his mouth tasted of blood. Then—he looked up.

She was smiling through the pain.

"I’ll burn it all. Everything. Every trace of you."

The priest’s cock rammed deep into her again—

"――!"

The image shattered. Darkness fell.

"Hhhk...!"

Wooshin snapped awake and flung his body to the side. Thunk! A knife stabbed into the pillow where his head had been. Gasping, he rolled again, and in the dark, a figure chuckled.

"What’s wrong, Masca? Bad dream?"

"......!"

A cold chill ran through his skull. The moment he heard his codename, Masca, Wooshin thought only one thing: Kill this boogeyman right now.

He grabbed the silenced pistol from beside the bed and fired.

Fucking hell... Even thinking back on the dream, it made him sick. Like drinking a bowl of sewage. No—worse than that.

Wooshin shook his head violently, trying to force away the sleep. Fuck, fuck...! He cursed in short, ragged bursts.

The urge to rip his brain apart clawed at him.

Ffft! The bullet fired without sound—but Kiya ducked fast, brushing his shoulder against the path, and it thudded into the ceiling. The light shattered, and glass shards rained down.

That lingering chill down his spine—was the dream still gripping him?

It felt like he’d just glimpsed a moment of exposure—his secret laid bare. A self-destructive Seoryeong, twisted, sleeping with anyone.

If so, then the source had to be him. The only way to stop that nightmare from happening again was to kill that bastard. No hesitation. He drew his dagger.

And Kiya did the same.

"――!"

"――!"

Clash! The blades collided, shrieking as the two men strained against each other. Both gritted their teeth, power deadlocked.

Seoryeong... Could we ever just live like a normal man and woman?

No. But I’ll make it happen. I swear I will.

Even with blurred vision, he reached for the pistol again. Kiya, reacting fast, hurled a pillow to deflect the barrel.

CRASH!

The room exploded into chaos. Chairs overturned. Fists flew. Every blow targeted something vital—throat, solar plexus, ears, jaw. No hesitation.

The walls shook from each missed or blocked strike. No room for error.

Then—Wooshin struck Kiya’s jaw in rapid succession and slammed him onto the desk. He grabbed a nearby power cord and wound it tight around the priest’s neck.

"Kkgh... Gray eyes, just as I thought, little lord."

"......!"

Kiya licked his lips with a wicked grin.

"I wanted to check those eyes. Don’t you remember?"