Substitute -
Chapter 70
You’re telling me I came back to my senses this fast?
He couldn’t believe it.
This time, there were no side effects at all. His throat was dry, but that was because he’d lost so many bodily fluids—and once he drank some water, the thirst went away immediately.
Jiwon, who had practically bathed in sweat and semen, was completely drained and collapsed onto the bed.
He heard Number 3 leave the room but couldn’t get up. He just stayed there, breathing in the steam and the scent of the woods, resting—and when he finally opened his eyes, he was alone.
A hallucination?
Maybe he wanted it to have been a hallucination. But the semen lingering in his mouth reminded him it had really happened.
The timer on the wall had reached 00:00.
When had it stopped?
Of course, he assumed it was because of the drugs.
That’s why he believed he’d done those things with Number 3 and even told him who his Manito was.
But the moment he left the room in his gown, he realized something was off—he felt perfectly fine.
So normal it was disorienting.
If they’d used the same drug as in Developer Class, there was no way his body would’ve returned to baseline so quickly. Back then, even after IV fluids in the recovery room, he felt floaty all day.
So why not this time?
Wasn’t it the same drug?
If it wasn’t the drug, there’s no way he would’ve gotten that aroused just from using a dildo.
He wouldn’t have felt like Number 3’s cock was some kind of gourmet delicacy.
What the hell was going on?
In a fog of confusion, Jiwon exited the humid Practice Room.
As soon as he opened the door, the Captain was waiting outside. Across from them, in front of the other Practice Room, the Team 1 Leader—dressed in a police officer’s uniform—sat in a chair.
“Sailor 1, return to your room to wash up and change.”
The Captain spoke in his usual tone while writing something on a tablet PC.
“What about the others?”
His voice was hoarse from all the screaming.
“Half of them have returned. The rest are still masturbating.”
“Um, I... I’m not disqualified, right?”
He asked carefully.
“Of course not. You did excellently.”
The Captain smiled as he praised him.
But Jiwon couldn’t shake off the feeling about Number 3 entering his room. He didn’t know whether that had been part of the plan or if Number 3 had entered on his own.
Manager Kim had said no matter what happened, no one would get penalty points or be expelled, but he was still worried. Even though he’d been told to return, his feet wouldn’t move.
“Um, Team Leader.”
He mustered up the courage to speak.
It was the first time Jiwon had personally addressed the Team Leader.
The Captain, still looking at his tablet, lifted his head.
Behind his sunglasses, his expression seemed to ask why Jiwon wasn’t returning to his room.
“Back there... in my room.”
His mouth went dry from nerves.
“Someone else was... I mean, um, is that allowed?”
Even to himself, his words made no sense.
Naturally, the Captain didn’t understand.
“Excuse me?”
“Uh... Number 3 entered my room.”
He clarified again, voice trailing off without him realizing.
“Who entered?”
“Number 3. No, Team 1. The guy in the police uniform... his name was Forty-Four...”
Shit. Fuck. He couldn’t remember the rest of the number.
Forty-four what?
“Sailor 1, are you okay?”
The Captain asked with a concerned expression.
“What? Yes. I’m fine. Do you happen to know what it says on Team 1’s name tag?”
Fucking lunatic.
“Sailor 1, are you sure you’re alright?”
The Captain asked again.
Jiwon saw his own faintly flushed face reflected in the Captain’s sunglasses. He took a deep breath and let it out, calming himself and organizing his thoughts.
“Team Leader. Just earlier, Crew 1, Number 3 entered my room. Isn’t that against the rules?”
This time, he looked the Captain in the sunglasses directly and asked clearly.
The Captain tilted his head slightly.
“Sailor 1 was alone.”
He answered firmly.
“No one entered your room. Sailor 1 was alone the whole time, and so were the others. Would you like to confirm?”
He looked ready to escort Jiwon straight into the other team’s rooms to prove it.
That can’t be.
Now it was Jiwon who was flustered.
Number 3 had definitely been there. He’d sucked Number 3’s cock, and Number 3 had sucked his tits.
He could still taste Number 3’s semen. His nipples, which had been teased, still ached.
And yet—he was alone? What, do they think he’s an idiot?
“No, Team Leader, Number 3 was definitely—”
“Sailor 1. I think you need to visit the clinic.”
The Captain picked up his radio.
Almost at the same time, the door to “Practice Room 6” opened, and another police-uniformed man stepped out. His face was flushed, and he was smiling smugly as he glanced over at Jiwon.
It was Number 9.
As the Team 1 Leader spoke with him and took notes on his tablet, Number 9 puckered his lips in Jiwon’s direction like blowing a kiss, then loosened his gown—which wasn’t even tied—and flashed what was inside. His half-erect cock glistened with oil.
Fuck. Did I really hallucinate the whole thing?
Was I seriously that high?
Could a hallucination feel that real?
I wouldn’t know unless I’d actually been high.
While the Team 1 Leader instructed Number 9 to shower and change, the guards arrived.
“Take Sailor 1 to the clinic. Adjust his schedule depending on the diagnosis. Health comes first.”
The Captain said kindly.
And so, Jiwon was escorted to the clinic under guard.
The doctor said it was a temporary delusional episode caused by overstimulation and oxygen deficiency.
“In a room heated to nearly 50 degrees, that level of excitement is entirely possible. See, when someone gets sexually overstimulated, the sympathetic nervous system activates—”
The doctor continued explaining, using medical jargon Jiwon couldn’t follow, saying his current condition wasn’t normal.
His pupils were still dilated, weren’t his hands trembling, what about ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) his arms, did he feel itchy?
The moment those questions were asked, Jiwon realized he was trembling—not just his hands, but his entire body. And both sides of his chest, where Number 3 had sucked and licked in his imagination, itched so badly he could scream.
“Looks like there’s even an allergic reaction.”
The doctor quickly jotted something down on his chart.
Drugs were really this terrifying?
Jiwon let out a breath.
He, of all people, knew better than anyone how dangerous drugs were—and yet he poured the oil on himself. He applied it, without fear, to the most sensitive mucous membrane.
He almost died jerking off in a revenge fantasy.
It was pathetic.
Per the doctor’s orders, Jiwon had to skip the next Developer Class and rest.
He lay on a hospital bed with an IV in his arm.
Sometime while blaming himself, he fell asleep.
****
“Fucking crazy. I wish I could take Developer Class every day.”
Kim Yunho poked Jiwon playfully as he celebrated.
“Why do you always skip the good stuff? Weak little bastard. Tsk.”
Once again, Kim Yunho had pissed himself leaving the clinic, then gone back to change before rejoining them. Jiwon had just caught up, having woken from a deep sleep in the clinic.
Maybe because he passed out so hard, Jiwon felt amazing.
But the fact that he used drugs recklessly, even knowing how dangerous things could get, left him in a foul mood.
He didn’t want to admit how badly he must’ve wanted Number 3, to the point of hallucinating him.
He was supposed to pretend to be sex-crazed—not actually go crazy.
He scolded himself.
Nothing Yunho said was registering.
“Who the hell comes up with this stuff? Fucking genius.”
Yunho kept rambling, until suddenly he frowned.
“Ugh, why’s that guy look so depressed?”
He gestured toward Park Geonwoo and shook his head.
“Probably got his solo Manito assignment.”
He whispered to Jiwon.
Sure enough, Park Geonwoo—who always said weird shit in historical drama tone after Developer Class—was slumped on the couch, looking distraught.
That’s when a good idea hit Jiwon. How ironic that his hallucination was actually useful now.
“Hey, uh... want me to help?”
He whispered, low enough that Yunho couldn’t hear.
“Help with what?”
Geonwoo replied dully.
“...I’ll throw them off.”
“Throw who off? What are you talking about?”
“Like, you know... your Manito...”
Jiwon pitched the idea he’d gotten from imaginary Number 3 to Geonwoo.
If he was going to mislead people anyway, it felt right to help someone. And if it was Geonwoo, all the better.
Geonwoo’s eyes widened. He sat up straight from his slumped position.
“Really? For real?”
Jiwon slowly nodded.
“Wow, you’re a fucking genius, huh?”
Geonwoo tried to keep his excitement in check as he gushed.
“Come on. I’m not that great.”
He laughed awkwardly.
“Aww, you adorable bastard. My baby.”
Geonwoo pulled him into a hug and nuzzled his face against Jiwon’s.
Watching that, Kim Yunho frowned. “Gross. Why are you two like this?”
Geonwoo didn’t care. He was overjoyed.
Then he suddenly let Jiwon go.
“Wait, didn’t you draw Wild Dog?”
He remembered, and his expression fell.
“I got one of those cop bastards. That killed the mood.”
Jiwon figured this would come up.
“Do you think anyone remembers?”
He looked Geonwoo in the eye.
“Honestly, aside from you and Yunho, I don’t remember who touched where. Do you?”
It was a sincere question.
Even though Jiwon had been watching closely with a purpose, he couldn’t recall where all twenty-nine others had put their hands. At best, he remembered six or seven people he’d specifically been tracking. So the rest probably remembered even less.
“Oh! You’re right.”
Geonwoo sighed like he’d just achieved enlightenment.
“Honestly, besides you and Yunho, I don’t remember shit about where Han Seoho’s bastard hands went.”
He chuckled and hugged Jiwon again.
“How are you this sharp? You don’t even look like it.”
He said, half a compliment, half an insult.
“Jiwon, run. That guy’s nuts.”
Kim Yunho twirled a finger at his temple.
Jiwon burst into laughter.
“Heartless little shit.”
Geonwoo scolded Yunho.
“What’s his deal?”
Yunho grumbled.
“Jealous asshole. Trying to win the Manito Game all by himself. Tch.”
As Geonwoo finally admitted his real motive—
Yunho seemed to realize what he and Jiwon had been talking about.
“Oh, you want help too?”
He offered the same suggestion Jiwon had just made.
Jiwon and Geonwoo shouted in unison, “You heard that?!”
“What do you mean? You guys were whispering right there. Helping each other out.”
Yunho gestured toward Han Seoho’s crew with his chin.
Jiwon felt sorry for them. He could already see Kang Jun and Ha Jun losing—and not even knowing it was Seoho’s fault. Just like he didn’t.
“Tears of brotherhood, I swear.”
Geonwoo spread his arms wide and wrapped them around both Jiwon and Yunho.
With their cheeks smushed together, Geonwoo leaned in and whispered, “Number 9.”
Of all things. Jiwon cursed inside.
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