VNIROM 1
by worry“Ugh, haah!”
Haseong shook his head wildly at the overwhelming sensation. He thought, no sane person would ever do this. The man in front of him had already lost his sanity, seeming completely out of his mind. He couldn’t believe the strange, lewd noises coming from beneath him. It felt as if he were truly like a woman, leaking fluids and creating messy sounds. Fortunately, it wasn’t his bodily fluids causing those noises.
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The noise came from the insane man moving his fingers around, putting his own semen into a hole—not one meant for insertion. It was impossible to guess how many fingers were probing inside. Strange and indecent sounds kept escaping through his clenched teeth despite his efforts to bite down, but controlling it was not as easy as he wished.
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“Ugh…! No! Stop…! Don’t, please!”
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Haseong struggled, crying out his refusal, but the man violating him showed no reaction at all. It seemed the man’s only interest was Haseong’s hole—nothing more, nothing less. Like a beast, he cared about nothing but widening Haseong’s hole. Whether this was fortunate or unfortunate, Haseong couldn’t tell. At least the man wasn’t immediately thrusting in that enormous piece of flesh he had glimpsed earlier, but was instead working to widen him first.
The man mercilessly widening Haseong’s hole with his fingers showed not a hint of compassion. He was a beast, yet not entirely a beast. Tears welled up in Haseong’s eyes as he questioned why Seo Jaewoo was doing this to him, why he had to endure such humiliation. No, his eyes were already red, and tears were dripping down, soaking the tear mole under his right eye. People say those with tear moles cry often, but he never imagined he would cry this much.
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As he stared at the man persistently forcing his fingers inside, Haseong thought, How did it come to this? He had only wanted to be kind, but not like this. The man, with eyes gleaming as if ready to devour him, was a calamity destined to destroy the world. And somehow, Haseong had become the shadowy mastermind controlling this calamity in this twisted world.
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***
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“Ack, work…!”
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Suddenly jolting awake, Haseong sat up abruptly. But as he tried to rise from the bed, he plopped back down onto it. He had momentarily forgotten that there was no need to rush anymore. He had finally quit the job he had endured for three years. Having stuck it out for a month to transfer his responsibilities, he felt like he deserved a pat on the back.
Just a few months ago, he never imagined he’d leave like this. But because of a so-called relative of the CEO who had suddenly appeared, Haseong had thrown in the towel. Thinking about it still made his teeth grind in frustration.
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“What’s the point of thinking about it? I already quit.”
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With a complex expression, Haseong ruffled his hair. Then, noticing the texture under his palm, he tilted his head in confusion. His hair was neatly cut and tidy—something he had done because of that CEO’s relative. Yet, the sensation in his hand felt much softer, fuller, and thicker. There was no way his hair had grown overnight. Curious, he got up from the bed.
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Since he was already awake, he figured he might as well go to the bathroom. But as he turned his gaze, his slightly tilted head lowered further. The wallpaper in front of him wasn’t from his house. In fact, it wasn’t just the wallpaper. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but the bed he was lying on and the furniture in the room weren’t his either.
The apartment Haseong moved into after starting work was a modest studio. His home only had two doors—one to the entrance and one to the bathroom. But the place he was in now was a room, not his apartment.
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Am I going crazy?
Startled, he cursed aloud without realizing it. The situation felt absurdly unreal. Looking around the unfamiliar space and trying to make sense of it with his frozen brain yielded no answers. He wondered if he hadn’t woken up yet, blaming the beer he’d had the night before to soothe his frustration over quitting because of that ridiculous person.
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This has to be a dream. Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.
This was the only conclusion he could reach—dreaming! Although he wasn’t someone who often dreamed, it wasn’t unusual for him to occasionally dream. Thinking it was a dream, he felt more at ease.
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Unlike his cluttered home, the room he was in was excessively simple. Though unfamiliar, the thought of it being a dream made him feel okay. This was the first time he had realized he was dreaming while still in the dream. So, lucid dreams were real after all, he thought.
Feeling relaxed, he looked around the room. As he had felt earlier, the room had no trace of humanity. Despite not being a hotel, the bed had pristine white sheets, and the only furniture in the room was a white wardrobe and a nightstand next to the bed. Entranced, he walked over to the wardrobe. When he opened it, he let out a small gasp.
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Inside were several identical outfits, along with other monotone clothes.
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“A uniform?”
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He wasn’t sure what kind of person he was in this dream, but it seemed he wore a uniform for work. And he apparently had no interest in fashion. Of course, even in real life, Haseong didn’t care much about clothes. Most of the week, he wore a suit—the modern-day uniform—to the office. During his time off, he usually dressed casually unless he had plans. But even he didn’t stick to monotone colors like this.
The uniform had a name embroidered on it: Yoo Haseong. He wondered if the profession required a white uniform, perhaps a sailor or a police officer. He listed jobs he’d never considered but couldn’t figure it out. The body glimpsed under the uniform didn’t seem suitable for such jobs either. With no further clues, he closed the wardrobe and returned to the bed to examine the nightstand.
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On the nightstand were a phone, something resembling a smartwatch, and an ID badge. Picking up the ID, he read the details: Seoul Branch, Esper Team 6, Yoo Haseong, Ability Center. The photo on the badge appeared to be of the dream version of himself, a man who looked nothing like the real Haseong—or perhaps, he couldn’t tell because the photo was obscured by messy bangs covering most of the face.
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“Hmm…”
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The photo revealed that the man had a small, slight build, much like how Haseong currently felt. Irritated by the bangs, he kept brushing his hair back unconsciously. Clicking his tongue, he muttered the words on the badge again.
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“Seoul Branch, Esper Team 6, Ability Center…”
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He tried to recall if such a center existed in Seoul but couldn’t. However, the words felt familiar. “Esper” wasn’t a term he recognized as a real profession, so he tried to piece it together until something clicked: a poster he had seen at a bus stop a few days ago.
The novel was intended for an adult audience. Its plot revolved around an Esper male protagonist and a female protagonist with the ability to soothe his mind and body. These scenes were often explicit and chaotic. The novel also introduced a significant element: a disaster controlled by a shadowy villain. Despite its bizarre premise, the novel was intriguing and enjoyable. Now, as a strange consequence of reading this novel, I find myself dreaming of this nonsensical scenario.
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“Haah…”
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While reading it, it was quite entertaining, but now, having this dream makes me regret reading it. Dreaming of becoming the protagonist of a novel? Not even as a child did I dream of such things. Since quitting my job, it seems like I’ve lost my mind. After examining the employee ID card, I moved on to the phone, but the contact list contained fewer than ten numbers. Judging from the four names marked “Team 6,” they seemed to belong to team members here.
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In the novel, the protagonist was proactive, lively, and a strong leader. However, judging by the phone, that didn’t seem to be the case here. I wondered if this dream, since it’s mine, might reflect my own personality. After all, my actual phone also has fewer than thirty contacts, most of which are work-related or team members. Come to think of it, the odd ID photo seemed to hint at a personality change later on. Dismissing the headache-inducing thoughts for now, I placed the phone and ID back on the nightstand.
The smartwatch-like device was probably an Esper Gear issued by the Ability User Center. This device also appeared in the novel. However, examining it now seemed like it would make my head hurt even more, so I decided to wash up first. I thought some warm water might alleviate my throbbing headache. Reaching for the door, I misjudged the distance and hit my hand against it.
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“Ouch! Am I an idiot or what…”
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My arms felt shorter than usual, likely because this body was smaller than my original one. Grimacing from the pain, I froze in realization like someone struck by lightning. Feeling pain in a dream? That wasn’t supposed to happen. Pain and discomfort weren’t typically sensations one experienced in dreams, were they? Thinking back, it wasn’t just the hand pain. Even the headache I’d been enduring shouldn’t exist in a dream.
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“What the hell is this…”
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Staring at my trembling hand, I hesitated to grasp the doorknob, my pupils shaking.
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Desperately denying the possibility, I reached for the doorknob. The cold sensation against my fingers seemed to assert over and over that this wasn’t a dream but reality. Trying to convince myself otherwise, I turned the knob. Somehow, opening this door felt like crossing an irreversible line. Nonetheless, my hand moved against my will and opened the door.
Beyond the door was another identical door directly in front of me. To my right was a living room, while to my left were what appeared to be a bathroom door and a kitchen. The living room had a small sofa, and across from it, a fairly large TV. Like everything else, the furniture in the living room resembled something out of a model house. The kitchen was no different. Staring blankly, I opened the door across the way.
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“Ah… it’s the same.”
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The room beyond was identical to the one I had woken up in. However, it appeared untouched and unused, with no signs of habitation. There didn’t seem to be anyone else living here. I wondered why I was analyzing this since it was just a dream, or so I thought. Sighing softly, I closed the door and turned to the door next to my room. As expected, it was the bathroom, which was spotless.
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“Wow…”
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Entering the bathroom absentmindedly, I sighed again upon seeing myself in the mirror. The man staring back at me, with his long bangs falling over his forehead, had a downright pretty face. Though pale, exhausted, and haggard from who knows what, his features were undeniably delicate and beautiful.
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His skin was so pale and translucent that veins could be seen beneath the surface. Full, red lips stood out prominently. His eyes were naturally moist, as if he were on the verge of tears. Despite the teary appearance, I had no intention of crying. They were just naturally shaped that way. Adding to the impression, a prominent teardrop mark sat beneath his right eye. Everything about his face seemed designed to cry often.
His faintly brownish hair, stripped of pigment, contrasted sharply with his jet-black irises. The contrast only amplified the impression of impending tears. His slender and fragile physique was just as striking. It was shocking how thin and small his body appeared—so malnourished that it prompted the question of whether he’d been eating at all. His height was hard to gauge exactly, but he seemed barely over 170 centimeters, if at all.
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“Haa… I don’t like this.”
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Even if this was a dream, this wasn’t the kind of look I preferred. I liked a more rugged, masculine style. Not that it mattered since this wasn’t real, but if I had to choose, that was my preference. I turned the faucet on, the skeletal fingers of this unfamiliar body becoming all the more apparent. Washing up, I resolved to eat something afterward.
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Even in a dream—or whatever alternate world this was—I couldn’t afford to let myself fall into malnutrition.
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