In Hall Plain, a woman's body could be a means of survival—or a weapon for assassination through intimacy. Because of this, the concept of chastity was not rigidly upheld. Given that murder and death were not uncommon occurrences, society was actually quite open when it came to sex.
Of course, being open did not mean being lawless. Crimes such as coercion or forced acts were still unacceptable. The strict discipline of the Northern Continent made it distinct from the Western Continent, where murder, robbery, and sexual violence ran rampant. However, as long as both parties consented, engaging in sexual relationships was never considered unusual in Hall Plain. Even first-year players, who had not yet completely let go of their modern sensibilities, gradually adapted to this culture over time.
Jung Ha-Yeong had been betrayed and abandoned. Or perhaps abandoned wasn't quite the right word—because from the beginning, that man had never intended to take her in. She still carried the pain of that moment deep in her heart. For over a year after that, she continued to live with the trauma.
It wasn't just men she distrusted—she couldn't bring herself to believe in people at all. And in Hall Plain, living with such trauma was an enormous source of stress. No one knew exactly what she had gone through after that, but it was clear that her days had been filled with anxiety and suffering.
And as that suffering accumulated, she was slowly reaching her limit. Perhaps she had been able to endure until now because she had her younger sister by her side. But after losing her, the overwhelming sense of loss shattered the trauma she had been suppressing all this time.
She was fully aware of her current state. She knew that if things continued this way, she would be in danger. She knew that her mind was falling apart.
But then—she met me.
At first, my actions resembled those of her first love. But as time passed, I made choices different from his. The things she had once hoped for, the actions she had wished that man would take—I did them. Watching how the others treated me, hearing their words, she began to remember emotions she had long forgotten. Perhaps, after the Crystal of Truth, she made up her mind.
She wanted to free herself from her trauma through me. She needed something to lean on. And in a way, I was partially responsible for the way she ended up like this—because I was the one who killed her younger sister.
Yet, I didn't feel guilty. As long as she held onto this feeling, all I had to do was treat her well from now on. That was enough justification for me. The thought made me let out a dry laugh. I wasn't exactly normal either. Ten years in Hall Plain had broken my emotions. Then again, maintaining sanity in this hellish place for over a decade would have been the stranger thing.
Without a word, I led Jung Ha-Yeong to the bed, almost carrying her. She let herself be guided, gazing up at me with trusting eyes. Drawn in by that gaze, I lay down beside her.
Now that I had confirmed her sincerity, I had to accept her. I wasn't noble enough to reject a woman who willingly came to me.
I didn't know what consequences this choice would bring in the future. But right now, holding her felt like the better decision.
With that in mind, I opened my mouth, speaking lightly to ease her mood.
"This feels a little strange, lying in the same bed like this."
"If you think this is strange already, you're going to have a hard time with what's coming next."
She got me. Jung Ha-Yeong was still Jung Ha-Yeong. I had spoken without thinking and immediately regretted it. Scratching my head in defeat, I leaned in and rested my head against her boobs.
A moment later, I felt her cool hand gently cradling my head. Encouraged by her touch, I pressed my face even closer to her boobs. Even through her robe, the sensation was unmistakable. My eyes widened in surprise. The only thing between us was a thin layer of fabric—meaning that underneath her heavy robe, she was only wearing her undergarments.
I stayed in her embrace for a while before finally lifting my head and speaking softly.
"If you ever want to stop, just give me a signal. I'll stop immediately."
"That won't happen. Even if I do give some kind of signal, just ignore it and keep going."
Her bold words made me chuckle without thinking. Moving up beside her, I met her gaze directly.
She looked into my eyes and spoke again.
"I have a request."
"Go ahead."
"From now on, when you call me… can you drop my last name and just use my first name?"
I nodded without hesitation.
"Alright. Ha-Yeong-ssi."
"Drop the honorifics too. Just my name."
"…Ha-Yeong."
"Good. Then…"
Hearing my response, she let out a small breath, as if relieved, and nodded slightly.
I slowly placed my hand on her robe. Now that I had her permission, I took my time undoing the front. Loosening the simple knot, I grabbed the end of the ribbon and gently pulled.
Schff.
With a soft sound, the front of her robe came undone.
I focused my gaze on her insides, peeking through the robe.
First, I saw the valley of her nicely swollen boobs, framed by her bra. As my gaze moved downward, I saw a slender waist and beautiful hips. The graceful line of her legs, poised like a sculpture in the dim light. She was beautiful—like an untamed bird, exuding quiet elegance and fragility all at once.
My gaze moved upward again. I could see her breasts, tempting men through her bra. I lifted my hand, brushing my fingers lightly against her cheek. Her skin was cool to the touch, yet beneath it, I could feel the warmth of life. As if drawn by instinct, she mirrored my gesture, fingertips grazing my face with hesitant reverence. With her glossy bob falling beautifully over the pillow, strands catching the faint glow of moonlight that filtered through the window.
With measured patience, I slid my hand down, loosening the last tie of her robe. The fabric slipped open effortlessly, revealing more of the skin beneath.
Outside, night had fully settled, draping the world in a hush of shadows and silver light. The only illumination came from the sliver of moonlight that spilled into the room, tracing delicate patterns across her skin. Perhaps embarrassed by her nakedness in the light, Ha-yeon turned slightly away from me.
I spoke softly, sensing her hesitation.
"Ha-Yeong… If this is too much, we can stop."
She took a slow breath before replying. "It's not that… I'm just a little… embarrassed."
Since it was her first time, she was extremely shy. She kept closing her legs tightly and covering her boobs with her arms, avoiding my gaze.
I smiled gently, accepting all of her actions, and waited. This was her first time. I wouldn't rush her. I wouldn't force anything out of impatience. Instead, I was willing to give her as much time as she needed to accept the situation. It might seem slow, but since it was her first experience, I wanted to create good memories rather than bad ones.
The relationship between us was simple. She moved with me, and I protected and embraced her. Before meeting me, Ha-Yeong had been lost, unsure of her path. Of course, I had my own reasons for involving her. But as long as she leaned on me and sought refuge in me, I was determined to be the strongest shelter she could ever have.
I waited for her patiently. Noticing my calm demeanor, she slowly loosened her arms, which had been tightly wrapped around her boobs, and relaxed her legs. As I silently observed her, she met my gaze and, in a soft voice, finally spoke.
"That expression just now…."
"Huh?"
"That expression just now was nice. Show it to me more often from now on."
I tilted my head at the words that I couldn't quite grasp, but I moved my hands again. The loosely tied robe slipped further from her shoulders, the fabric cascading down, exposing more of the soft curves beneath. I could see the deep cleavage that was rising up between the bra covering her boobs.
And then, slowly, pale skin emerged from beneath the cloth—smooth, untouched. My fingers hovered for a moment before pressing gently against her, tracing the lines as I carefully pulled the fabric lower…
"Ah…!"
The gentle pull of gravity guided the fabric downward, revealing what had been hidden beneath. As the last barrier slipped away, her boobs, once lightly constrained, now rose and fell in quiet, rhythmic motion. Her boobs, softly illuminated by the moonlight, stood before me—serene, yet captivating.
I found myself unable to look away, as if drawn into a trance. The way the moonlight caressed her skin, casting delicate shadows, made the sight all the more mesmerizing. There was an almost sacred stillness in the air, yet at the same time, an undeniable allure that made my breath hitch.
"P-please… don't stare like that…"
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, fragile and uncertain.
"You're beautiful," I murmured, shaking my head as if to dispel a dream. "So incredibly beautiful."
At my words, a deep blush bloomed across her cheeks. She turned her head to the side, unable to meet my gaze, yet her quiet reaction only added to the warmth pooling in my chest.
Though I had felt this once before—under different, more chaotic circumstances—it still struck me how much more breathtaking she was up close. Her boobs were much bigger and more voluptuous than they looked on the outside. Not too large, not too small. The perfect balance of softness and shape, with a warmth that seemed to melt against touch.
A quiet moment stretched between us, thick with unspoken words, the glow of the moon our only witness.
"How old are you?"
Her voice cut through the silence, pulling my attention away from the mesmerizing sight before me. Has the quiet between us grown uncomfortable for her? I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to remain steady.
"Twenty-four."
"Oh? That makes you two years younger than me."
Of course, I already knew that. Ha-Yeong was twenty-six—the age where a woman's allure ripens into something undeniable. My gaze flickered downward, drawn once more to the soft curves before me. Without fully realizing it, my hand slowly reached out, as if compelled by something beyond reason.
Ha-Yeong, who had been watching me intently, let out a small, amused chuckle.
"…Pfft. Do you like them that much?"
"W-what?"
"You can't deny it," She murmured, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You've been staring at my boobs like you're in a trance. This isn't like you at all. It's... kind of nice, though. You finally feel your age."
Her words carried a teasing lilt, but I could hear the underlying softness. She had noticed the way my usual demeanor had shifted, how I was acting less composed than usual.
I couldn't help but smile inwardly. Did she realize this was intentional? That I had deliberately let myself be a little more unguarded around her?
I had always noticed the quiet traces of maternal instinct within her—the way she cradled my head when I lay on her lap, the way her hand would instinctively find its way to my hair. It wasn't something overt, but it was there, buried beneath her usual composed nature. Maybe that was why I wanted to see how far she would let me go, how much of this moment she would allow herself to embrace.
Her posture, once rigid with tension, had softened. She no longer looked apprehensive. Instead, there was something else in her eyes—something that made my pulse quicken just a little.
Then, just as my hand hesitated in the air between us, she did something unexpected.
She reached out, took my hand in her own, and gently guided it forward.
I barely had time to react before my palm met the soft warmth of her skin. A quiet hitch of breath escaped her, her body giving the faintest tremor beneath my touch. My fingers instinctively curled, feeling the delicate boob beneath them. The sensation was almost overwhelming—warm, yielding, yet undeniably real.
"…!"
She didn't make a sound. No gasp, no protest, nothing that would suggest discomfort. If anything, it felt as though she was holding herself back, silently accepting the moment as it unfolded.
A softness so delicate, it felt as though it would melt away in my grasp with just the slightest added pressure. As my hands moved, her form shifted, yielding to my touch. I savored the supple, responsive contours beneath my fingertips.
At the peak of her boob, I found the small, raised nipple and teased it with a slow, deliberate motion. A quiet, breathy moan slipped past her lips as her body tensed, arching ever so slightly. But just as quickly, she caught herself—her lips pressing shut, her movements stilling.
Against my palm, the warmth of her dampened skin unfolded in vivid detail, unfiltered and raw. The way she responded, the way her body communicated through sensation alone, was intoxicating. Lost in the moment, I let my touch deepen, surrendering to the electric connection between us.
For a while, my hands explored the soft contours of her form, fingertips tracing delicate patterns before slowly retreating. A rosy warmth bloomed where my touch had lingered, a contrast against her fair skin. My gaze drifted downward, following the gentle rise and fall of her boobs. At some point, our conversation had faded into silence—not out of awkwardness, but because words no longer felt necessary.
She remained before me, clad in only the delicate fabric that still covered her lower half. I leaned back slightly, allowing myself a moment to take in her figure—her slender shoulders, the graceful curves, the quiet elegance in the way she carried herself. There was something almost hypnotic about her presence, a beauty that demanded admiration.
With quiet reverence, I reached out again, my fingers skimming lightly over her skin. They followed the smooth lines of her waist, tracing the subtle dip at her navel before pausing. my touch was unhurried, appreciative, as if committing every detail to memory. As I continued, she shifted instinctively beneath my touch, her breath hitching in response. The quiet, composed version of her, I had always known, seemed to waver, replaced by something more vulnerable—more present.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
I lifted my head and drew closer to her face. Her intelligent yet elegant features carried a sorrowful expression. It was my first time seeing such a longing look from her, and as if bewitched, I found myself gradually closing the distance between us, my gaze fixed on her tightly sealed, cherry-like lips.
Ha-Yeong's eyes widened as if she had realized what my approaching face meant. A flush of surprise colored her face, but she quickly regained her composure. Though this was a first for both of us, the way she considered my feelings with such quiet grace made me want to kiss her.
Before I knew it, the space between us had shrunk to the point where I could hear her breathing. At first, she had maintained a calm demeanor, but as I drew even closer, she subtly lowered her gaze. Seeing this, I paused for a moment before finally speaking.
"Can I... kiss you?"
"...I've been curious about it too. Go ahead."
Could this really be her first kiss as well? Either way, with her permission granted, there was nothing holding me back. Gently, I placed my lips over hers, breathing in the faint scent of her fragrance.
At the first touch, she flinched slightly, but beyond that, Ha-Yeong simply accepted my lips without resistance. Now and then, she hesitantly moved her lips, as if unsure of what to do.
The sensation of her against me was unbelievably sweet—soft, warm, and delicate. For a fleeting moment, I thought I wouldn't mind falling asleep just like this.
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