Chapter 4 – #01_Slave Of The Witch City (4)
#04
1.
Stimulate the male genitalia by hand to induce ejaculation, then observe whether magic power is generated.
It was just words, but in reality, if you looked at the act itself, it was no different from a handjob.
I had no way of knowing what Amelia was thinking, but her hand, which I was feeling for the first time, was very cold.
“Before we get into the real stimulation, it’s important to make it big enough to hold firmly with your hand.”
A touch I could never have imagined from the rigid persona she had shown me until now.
The world was a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
I, too, was one of those players.
However, my stage was a bit different from others.
It was a stage where I had to play the role of a villainess.
A villainess who was destined to die.
I was possessed by a character in a novel.
And not just any character, but the villainess, ‘Evelyn.’
Evelyn was the daughter of a Duke, known for her beauty and arrogance.
She was the kind of character who would do anything to get what she wanted, even if it meant hurting others.
And her ultimate goal was to win the heart of the male lead, ‘Ian.’
But Ian was already in love with the female lead, ‘Seraphina.’
Evelyn, blinded by her obsession, would try to sabotage their relationship, leading to her tragic end.
That was the story of the novel.
And I was now living that story.
I had no idea how I ended up in this world.
One moment I was reading the novel, and the next, I was waking up in Evelyn’s body.
At first, I was terrified.
I didn’t want to die.
I didn’t want to become the villainess who was hated by everyone.
So, I decided to change the story.
I decided to live a different life than Evelyn.
I would not chase after Ian.
I would not hurt Seraphina.
I would live a quiet, peaceful life.
That was my plan.
But the world didn’t seem to want to let me go so easily.
The story kept pushing me back to my original role.
No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, I kept getting entangled with Ian and Seraphina.
It was as if the novel was determined to make me play the villainess.
And I was starting to feel like I was losing myself.
Was I really Evelyn?
Or was I just a puppet being controlled by the story?
I didn’t know anymore.
All I knew was that I was tired.
Tired of fighting against the story.
Tired of pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
I just wanted to be myself.
But was that even possible in this world?
I didn’t know.
But I had to try.
I had to find a way to break free from this cursed role.
I had to find a way to live my own life.
Even if it meant going against the story.
Even if it meant facing death.
I would not give up.
I would fight until the very end.
That was my new resolution.
And with that resolution, I opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was the familiar ceiling of my room.
It was a luxurious room, befitting a Duke’s daughter.
But to me, it felt like a cage.
I got out of bed and walked towards the window.
The sun was shining brightly, illuminating the garden below.
It was a beautiful day.
But I couldn’t feel any joy.
I was still trapped in this story.
And I didn’t know how to escape.
But I wouldn’t give up.
I would keep fighting.
Until the day I could finally be free.
The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.
It was a small, antique-looking music box. The kind you might see in an old movie. The box was made of dark wood, with intricate carvings, and when I opened the lid, a delicate melody played. It was a tune I’d never heard before, but it was strangely familiar, like a forgotten dream.
I didn’t know who had sent it. There was no card, no return address, just the box, sitting on my doorstep. I tried to ask my family, but they all said they hadn’t seen it before.
I was a bit creeped out, but also curious. I had always loved old things, things with stories. And this music box seemed to have a story of its own.
I started carrying it around with me. I’d listen to the tune when I was bored, or when I was feeling down. It was a calming melody, and it always seemed to make me feel a little better.
One day, I was sitting in the park, listening to the music box, when I noticed something strange. The trees around me seemed to be swaying in time with the music, even though there was no wind. And the birds were singing along, their voices blending with the melody.
I looked around, and I realized that everyone in the park was moving in time with the music. It was like they were all part of some strange, silent dance.
I quickly closed the lid of the music box, and the strange movement stopped. Everyone went back to what they were doing, as if nothing had happened.
I was shocked. I didn’t know what to think. Was it just my imagination? Or was the music box really doing something strange?
I decided to test it. I opened the lid again, and the music started to play. And just like before, the trees started to sway, the birds started to sing, and everyone in the park started to move in time with the music.
I closed the lid again, and everything stopped.
I realized that the music box wasn’t just a music box. It was something more. Something magical.
I didn’t know what to do with it. I could use it to control people, to make them do whatever I wanted. But that didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to be a puppet master.
I decided to keep it a secret. I would use it only when I needed to, and only for good.
But I knew that the music box was a dangerous thing. And I knew that I had to be careful.
I didn’t know who had sent it to me, or why. But I knew that it had changed my life forever.
“Tch!”
Siwoo hated Amelia.
And I also don’t like showing myself getting a handjob in front of other people.
Yet, what couldn’t be denied was that her hands felt incredibly pleasant.
Blood rushed to my lower abdomen, regardless of my will. I could vividly feel the soft thing slowly swelling.
“Wow!”
“The pendulum moved! I haven’t even started yet!”
As his member became erect, the pendulum on the chalkboard vibrated towards Siwoo.
“I explained that it triggers the generation of mental cat magic, right? Like this, men generate magic just by feeling arousal. Even if it’s an insignificant amount.”
While Siwoo’s member grew to its full, impressive size, Amelia rarely expressed her personal opinion.
“To get an erection in any situation or condition. Men are such pathetic creatures.”
Amelia briefly took her hand off Siwoo’s member.
Once erect, it wasn’t easy for it to go down.
Siwoo’s member, clearly larger than the average for an East Asian, remained stiff and throbbing even after leaving her hand.
“Shin Siwoo, my assistant, are you feeling sexually aroused right now?”
It was a cider that I had been dragged around by for five years, one way or another.
There was no mistaking the teasing mixed in Amelia’s subtly questioning voice.
She was asking me now.
“After acting so cocky and refusing to serve me at night, you’re getting this worked up just from a few touches with my hand?”
It was humiliating.
It wasn’t for nothing that Amelia had volunteered to show how to induce the situation. Just as Siwoo knew Amelia well, she knew Siwoo too. She had figured out how to make him feel ashamed and had intentionally created this situation.
“You’re quiet.”
Amelia, who would normally have pressed Siwoo for an answer, was pressuring him in a completely different way.
Amelia’s hand, which had merely been toying with it, now firmly grasped his cock.
The old woman’s face, wrinkled like a dried persimmon, was a map of the years she had lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a sharp glint, and her thin lips were set in a firm line. She sat on the porch, her back straight as a rod, and watched the village with a gaze that missed nothing. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, and the air was filled with the chirping of crickets.
“Hmph,” she muttered, her voice raspy like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “Another day gone by.”
She reached for the worn wooden pipe beside her and began to fill it with tobacco. Her movements were slow but deliberate, each action honed by years of repetition. She lit the pipe with a match, the flame briefly illuminating her face before dying down. A plume of smoke curled into the air, carrying with it the scent of burnt tobacco and the weight of her thoughts.
“The young ones these days,” she said to no one in particular, her voice barely a whisper. “They don’t know the meaning of hard work.”
She shook her head, her silver hair swaying around her face. She had seen generations come and go, each one more restless than the last. She had seen the village grow and change, but some things, she knew, would always remain the same. The land, the people, and the endless cycle of life and death.
She took another puff of her pipe, the smoke swirling around her like a shroud. The sun had finally set, and the village was bathed in the soft glow of the moon. The old woman sat there, a silent sentinel, watching over her domain. She was the keeper of the village’s secrets, the guardian of its traditions, and the last of her kind.
The dry sound of flesh rubbing together.
Amelia, with delicate control of her strength, performed a smooth handjob without any lubricant.
Moreover, while observing Siwoo’s reactions, he relentlessly provoked sensitive areas, causing my back to arch involuntarily.
“Ugh… Urgh….”
Siwoo wore a deathly expression, trying to resist the pleasure, while the twins exclaimed in admiration as if they were witnessing something truly rare. Amelia placed a hand on Siwoo’s shoulder, perhaps because her posture was a little uncomfortable, and began to pick up the pace in earnest.
Each time her bright blonde hair swayed, it mixed with the luxurious scent of her perfume and her natural fragrance, tickling the tip of his nose. The pendulum’s vibrations, which had initially been as faint as the rustling of the wind, were gradually increasing in amplitude.
Amelia looked up at Siwoo’s face, which was contorting with each passing moment. She slowly rolled her eyes, as if savoring his humiliated expression, which seemed to please her. Her breathing had become more rapid than before the handjob.
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Aren’t you enjoying this?”
Amelia, who was usually devoid of any emotion, whispered once more, her voice unusually tinged with feeling.
It was quite unfortunate for Siwoo that the only emotion she could muster was a sense of superiority.
Even though he knew that resisting was pointless, he couldn’t help but resist. If he gave in too easily, he would only be playing into her subtle mockery. Amelia clicked her tongue at Siwoo’s efforts to endure, biting his lip to hold back.
“Don’t try any useless tricks and hurry up. My arm is getting tired.”
Amelia’s grip tightened as she whispered, low enough for the twins not to hear. The exquisitely controlled force pushed in an irresistible pleasure.
“Ugh….!”
Although only 15 minutes had passed, it was more than enough to break my two-month-long streak of abstinence. The immense pleasure, proportional to the delay, made my head go blank.
The following is a translation of a Korean novel, adhering to the provided guidelines:
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Chapter 1
The first time I saw him, he was a mess.
His hair was a tangled bird’s nest, and his clothes looked like they’d been through a washing machine with a family of raccoons. He was sitting on the curb, hugging his knees, and muttering to himself. I remember thinking, “Wow, that guy looks like he’s having a really bad day.”
I was on my way to my part-time job at the convenience store, and I almost walked past him. But something made me stop. Maybe it was the way his shoulders were shaking, or the way his voice cracked when he spoke. Whatever it was, I couldn’t just leave him there.
“Hey,” I said, crouching down beside him. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t look up. He just kept muttering, “It’s all my fault… it’s all my fault…”
“Hey,” I said again, a little louder this time. “Can you hear me?”
He finally lifted his head, and I saw his face for the first time. He had these big, dark eyes that looked like they’d seen too much, and his cheeks were stained with tears. He looked like a lost puppy.
“Who… who are you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“I’m just someone who saw you sitting here,” I said. “Are you hurt? Do you need help?”
He shook his head. “No… I’m just… I’m just a mess.”
“Well, everyone’s a mess sometimes,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “It’s okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
He looked at me for a long moment, like he was trying to decide if he could trust me. Then, he sighed and said, “I… I messed up. I messed up really bad.”
“Okay,” I said. “Well, maybe talking about it will help. I’m going to be late for work, but I can spare a few minutes. What happened?”
He hesitated for a moment, then started to talk. He told me about how he’d lost his job, how his girlfriend had broken up with him, and how he felt like he had no one left in the world. As he spoke, his voice got quieter and quieter, until he was barely whispering.
I listened patiently, not interrupting him. When he was finished, I said, “Wow, that sounds really rough. I’m sorry you’re going through all that.”
He looked up at me, surprised. “You… you’re not going to tell me it’s my fault?”
“Of course not,” I said. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to feel bad.”
He looked at me for a long moment, then a small smile flickered across his face. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for listening.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Now, I really have to get to work. But, if you want, I can buy you a coffee or something?”
He nodded. “That would be nice.”
So, I helped him up, and we walked to the convenience store together. As we walked, I couldn’t help but wonder who this guy was, and why he was so broken. I had a feeling that this was just the beginning of a very strange and unexpected friendship.
“Wow! Wow!”
“They’re coming out now!”
-Pshoo! Pshoo! Pshoo!
The old woman’s face, wrinkled like a dried persimmon, was a canvas of countless years. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a sharp glint, and her lips, thin and pale, were pressed into a firm line. She sat on the low stool, her back slightly hunched, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The worn hanbok she wore was faded, but clean, and the silver hairpin in her gray hair shone dully in the dim light.
“So, you’re the one,” she said, her voice raspy, like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “The one they call the ‘Ghost of the Back Alley’.”
I didn’t answer. I just stood there, in the middle of the small, cluttered room, my eyes fixed on her. The air was thick with the smell of old paper and dried herbs, and the only sound was the faint ticking of a clock on the wall.
“They say you’re a monster,” she continued, her gaze unwavering. “That you steal the souls of the living. Is that true?”
I still didn’t answer. I had no words for her, no explanation for the fear that I saw in her eyes.
“I’ve seen many things in my long life,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “Things that would make your hair stand on end. But I’ve never seen anything like you.”
She paused, her eyes searching mine. “Tell me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “What are you?”
I looked at her, at the lines etched deep into her face, at the wisdom and the weariness in her eyes. And for the first time in a long time, I felt something stir within me. Something that wasn’t fear, or anger, or hatred. Something that felt… almost like hope.
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I am.”
The old woman’s eyes widened slightly, and a flicker of something that might have been understanding crossed her face. She reached out a hand, her fingers gnarled and twisted with age, and touched my arm.
“Then let’s find out together,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong. “Let’s find out what you are.”
Amelia didn’t stop her hand even as he ejaculated.
There was a cruelty in her, as if she intended to squeeze out every last drop of semen.
A wave of emptiness washed over Siwoo’s chest after his dizzying climax, a pleasure that resonated down to his tailbone. Shame and self-loathing were added bonuses.
“Did you see? Magic is generated the moment you ejaculate.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Professor Amelia, can we try it this time?”
Siwoo, who wanted nothing more than to curl up and soothe his aching insides, noticed the pendulum swinging wildly.
And the twins, who looked like they were about to jump over the table and start the second experiment.
Amelia neatly wiped the semen from her finger with a handkerchief and took out her pocket watch.
“That’s all for today due to time constraints. The caretaker can return to his duties.”
“What do you mean, that’s all!”
“We want to try it too!”
Amelia, having cast a spell in the air right before the climax to neatly collect the semen, didn’t even look at Siwoo as she calmed the twins and continued the lesson.
Siwoo, who had been standing there blankly for a while, gathered his wits, grabbed his lab coat, and fled the Second Classroom as if running away.
2.
Siwoo walked towards the archives, looking half-dazed.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected a public masturbation disguised as semen extraction, but he never imagined he’d receive a handjob from Amelia and end up in a humiliating ejaculation show.
“Life is so… empty.”
It was also raining miserably, making him crave a cigarette.
To be honest, he had also felt good, and as Amelia had said, there was an exciting aspect to it.
How often would he get a handjob from a beautiful woman he’d never even held hands with before?
But no matter how hard he tried to rationalize it, he had been played by Amelia, and the fact that he had ejaculated in her hand in a pathetic 15 minutes made his face burn even now.
At times like this, he envied Takasho, the master of masochism.
That guy would have come to Siwoo’s room to brag about how Amelia, who was famous for being aloof, had given him a handjob.
What was even more unsettling was that he didn’t know if this was the beginning or the end of Amelia’s revenge.
He could only hope that Amelia, who had been humiliated by his second rejection this morning, felt satisfied after seeing Siwoo’s pathetic state.
Worrying about trivial things was only possible when he had the time.
Siwoo still had the task of organizing the archives.
The magic archives, located in the south of Trinity Academy, were the largest building in the academy. When it was first built, it was said to have been so crowded that there were no books left on the shelves.
However, in the 21st century, very few witches visited this magic archive.
As time passed, the hierarchy of witches became more standardized, and few people sought out libraries that stored basic magic books.
Thanks to that, the only people who visited this desolate archive were witches or apprentice witches who suddenly got confused by a formula.
If that weren’t the case, it would have been impossible for one person to manage this vast archive alone.
“Haa…”
Siwoo, having changed into his work clothes, ate a late lunch of stale bread in a corner of the archives.
Usually, a slave’s meal was barley bread that tasted worse than a sponge or thin oat porridge.
It wasn’t even that despairing anymore.
For Siwoo, meals were just a way to replenish his nutrients.
“I should clean up.”
Siwoo finished his meal in less than three minutes and started by organizing the books on the table.
Even though the archive was rarely visited, when witches started looking through books, they would easily scatter dozens of them, so today, there were over 1,000 books piled up on the table.
Still, cleaning the archives was the time Siwoo liked the most.
There was no one to watch him, and no one to rush him. If he finished cleaning properly, he could even curl up in a corner of the archives and take a short nap.
Most of all…
“Ah, this was the problem.”
He picked up the book he had read yesterday again and hid behind the bookshelf, flipping through the pages.
The books in the archives were basic texts that were boring for witches, but for him, they were a sea of information with all sorts of secrets hidden within.
Through the magic books he had flipped through in his spare time, he was able to absorb the papers left by witches hundreds of years ago and even basic magical knowledge.
They say that if a dog stays at a village school for three years, it can recite poetry, and Siwoo, who didn’t even know about the existence of magic before being kidnapped here, was now able to interpret and draw magic formulas, albeit clumsily.
Siwoo took out a crumpled piece of paper from his work clothes pocket, quickly wrote on it with a pencil, and put it back in his pocket before anyone could see it.
There was a problem that had been bothering Siwoo for at least two weeks, but thanks to learning a new formula, his mind was clear.
If it weren’t for these small joys of learning, he would have gone crazy a long time ago.
This much achievement was enough for today.
After finishing work and cleaning Amelia’s research lab, he would go home and break through the blocked part based on the new theory he had learned today.
“Still, there’s no guarantee that life will be completely screwed up.”
There was no point in being depressed and feeling sorry for himself.
Siwoo’s goal was only one thing.
To draw a magic circle that could travel to the modern world and escape this godforsaken city.
And to do that, he needed to study magic on his own.
The thought of going back to Korea and eating chicken with a cold beer made him feel a little less depressed.
He gathered the scattered books on the table, put them back in their places, and wiped the shelves with a wet cloth so that not a single speck of dust would fly.
It was also Siwoo’s job to inspect and replace the wizard stones engraved with preservation formulas that were installed to maintain the books.
By the time everything was finished, the sun was already setting.
His back ached from climbing up and down the ladder placed against the bookshelves to return the books to their original places and finish cleaning.
Siwoo’s daily routine, which started at 6 a.m. with cleaning the garden, ended at 6 p.m.
Normally, he would have gone back to his dorm and scribbled magic formulas until he fell asleep, but he had to go clean Amelia’s research lab.
Siwoo pushed his gloomy feelings aside and walked towards the research lab.
