The Best MC Netori

Sung-Min woke up Friday morning with a fire in his gut, the kind that came from knowing he was living a life most guys only dreamed of—or read about in shady doujinshi. Yesterday had been a slow burn—Soo-Jin's alley kiss, Eun-Ha's subtle spark—but tonight was the main event. Ji-Yeon had promised "Round 3," and after last night's couch conquest, he was ready to deliver. Tae-Ho's late shift was the golden ticket, and Sung-Min wasn't about to waste it.

He rolled out of bed, the clock flashing 7:30 a.m. His body felt good—Stamina 18 holding strong, muscles taut from yoga—and a quick mirror check confirmed the glow of Charm 22. He smirked at his reflection. "You're a bastard, Sung-Min," he muttered, ruffling his hair. "A lucky bastard."

First up: Soo-Jin at 10. He showered, threw on a gray tee and jeans, and headed to Café Luna, the morning sun casting long shadows over Seoul's waking streets. The bell chimed at 8:05 as he stepped in, and Soo-Jin greeted him with that sly grin, sliding an iced americano across the counter.

"Morning, hero," she said, leaning forward just enough to show off her curves under the apron. "Min-Soo's still a pain. You're my sanity today."

"Happy to serve," he replied, sipping the drink. "He still stalking you?"

She sighed, twirling a strand of her bob. "Texted me all night—'Why are you so happy? Who's making you smile?'—like he's Sherlock or something. He's outside again, sulking."

Sung-Min glanced out the window. Min-Soo was there, pacing by the lamppost, phone in hand. "Guy's got no life," he said, turning back to her. "Break at 10 still on?"

"Damn right," she said, winking. "Alley. Don't flake."

"Never," he promised, grabbing a table to kill time. The next two hours dragged, but Soo-Jin's flirty smirks and Min-Soo's pathetic hovering kept him amused. At 10, she ditched her apron and met him out back, the alley cool and shadowed.

No words—just a crash of lips, her hands tugging his shirt, his pinning her against the wall. It was quick, dirty—a grope here, a bite there—leaving them both flushed and grinning. "Tomorrow?" she asked, smoothing her top.

"Count on it," he said, watching her slip back inside. Min-Soo was gone when he checked—good riddance.

Back home, he napped, ate, and prepped for Ji-Yeon. By 7 p.m., he was buzzing, pacing his apartment in a black hoodie and jeans, phone in hand. Her text came at 7:15:

Ji-Yeon: "Tae-Ho's out 'til midnight. Get here. Round 3's waiting."

Sung-Min grinned, typing: "On my way. Brace yourself."

He was at 3B by 7:20, knocking sharp and fast. Ji-Yeon opened the door, and damn, she'd upped the ante. No robe this time—just a red lingerie set, all lace and straps, barely containing her curves. Her hair was loose, lips glossy, and her smirk was pure sin.

"Took you long enough," she said, pulling him inside. The door slammed shut, and she locked it, turning to him with a look that said game on.

"Blame the traffic," he teased, shedding his hoodie as she dragged him to the bedroom. No couch tonight—the bed loomed, sheets already rumpled, and she shoved him onto it, climbing on top before he could blink.

"No talking," she said, straddling his hips. "Just fuck me."

Sung-Min grinned, hands gripping her thighs. "Yes, ma'am."

She kissed him—fierce, messy, all teeth and tongue—and he matched her, hands roaming up her back to undo the lingerie top. It fell away, revealing her breasts, full and perfect, and he groaned, palming them as she ground against him through his jeans. Her nipples hardened under his touch, and she moaned, loud and unashamed, rocking harder.

"Off," she demanded, tugging at his shirt. He yanked it over his head, tossing it aside, and she attacked his jeans next, zipper down in seconds. His boxers followed, and when she freed him—hard and throbbing—her eyes darkened with hunger.

"Fuck, Sung-Min," she muttered, stroking him fast and rough. "You're ruining me for Tae-Ho."

"Good," he growled, flipping her onto her back. She laughed, wild and breathless, as he ripped the lace bottoms off—literally tore them, the fabric shredding under his grip. She didn't care, just spread her legs, wet and ready, and he didn't wait.

He thrust into her, deep and hard, and she cried out, nails digging into his shoulders. No slow buildup—just raw, primal need. The bed creaked, headboard banging the wall, and Sung-Min didn't hold back, driving into her with a force that made her gasp his name.

"Harder," she demanded, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. He obliged, slamming into her until she was trembling, her moans turning into screams. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and he leaned down, sucking one into his mouth, biting just enough to make her arch off the bed.

"Sung-Min—fuck—yes—" Her voice was a wreck, and he felt her tighten, her body tensing as she neared the edge. He slid a hand between them, finding her clit, rubbing fast and firm, and that broke her. She came—loud, shuddering, walls clenching around him so tight he saw stars.

He didn't stop, chasing his own release, thrusting through her spasms until the pressure snapped. He buried himself deep, groaning as he spilled inside her, the pleasure hitting like a punch. They collapsed, tangled and sweaty, her chest heaving against his.

"Round 3," she panted, laughing weakly. "You're a monster."

"Only for you," he said, kissing her slow and smug. She melted into it, still trembling, and he rolled off, pulling her against his side. The room smelled of sex and torn lace, and Sung-Min grinned, basking in the chaos.

The system dinged, breaking the haze.

[Bonus encounter completed! Target: Park Ji-Yeon. Reward: +5 Strength for physical dominance. Current stats: Charm 22, Stamina 18, Stealth 2, Deception 3, Confidence 5, Strength 5. She's addicted—brace for Tae-Ho fallout.]

"Strength 5, huh?" Sung-Min muttered, flexing his arm. Felt right—he'd torn that lingerie like paper. But "Tae-Ho fallout" lingered, a dark cloud on the horizon.

Ji-Yeon nudged him, smirking. "What's that look? Planning round 4?"

"Tempting," he said, tracing her hip. "But I should jet before Tae-Ho's shift ends. Don't need him busting in."

She sighed, dramatic but sated. "Fine. Tomorrow night? He's got another late one."

"Deal," he said, climbing out of bed to dress. She watched, shameless, sprawled like a queen, and he had to force himself to the door. "Rest up. You'll need it."

"No promises," she called, and he slipped out, heart pounding.

Back in 3D, he collapsed onto his couch, grinning like a fool. Ji-Yeon was his—hooked, begging for more—and Soo-Jin was close behind. Eun-Ha was the next frontier, her fiancé's absence a golden window. His phone buzzed—Soo-Jin.

Soo-Jin: "Min-Soo's losing it. Caught him snooping my phone. Tomorrow, 10. Rescue me for real this time."

Sung-Min typed back: "I'm there. Alley's our spot."

Then Ji-Yeon: "Tae-Ho's home early. Didn't see u leave. He's pissed—something about noise complaints. Oops."

His grin faltered. Noise complaints? Shit. That headboard banging wasn't subtle. He replied: "Lay low. I'll handle it if he comes knocking."

She sent a winking emoji, and he set the phone down, unease creeping in. Tae-Ho early, Min-Soo snooping—his kingdom of chaos was shaking. The system pinged.

[Warning: Risk level elevated. Tae-Ho's suspicion rising. Min-Soo closing in. Maintain control, protagonist.]

"Control," Sung-Min muttered, rubbing his face. "Right." He'd dodged Tae-Ho once, but twice? And Min-Soo was a wildcard—clingy, but crafty. Then there was Eun-Ha, the prize dangling just out of reach.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Three girls, three ticking bombs. The netori life was a high-stakes game, and he was all in. Tomorrow—Soo-Jin at 10, Eun-Ha's class at 4, Ji-Yeon at night. He'd juggle the chaos, charm the fallout, and come out on top.

Sleep came slow, dreams of lace and coffee swirling with Tae-Ho's fists. The villain's crown was heavy—but damn, it fit him well.