Venis woke to sunlight stabbing through the thin curtain like a knife. His mouth tasted like cotton and regret; the cheap soju from last night had left a dull hammer pounding behind his eyes. He rolled over, sheets tangled around his legs, and stared at the ceiling crack that looked more like a scar every day.
The blue window materialized without fanfare, hovering above his face.
[Daily Quest Refreshed]Task: Claim a Virgin's First TimeDescription: Guide an untouched partner through their initial sexual experience. Full penetration and mutual climax required for completion.
Reward: +50 Points,
Stat Boost (Random),
Skill Unlock (Pleasure Echo – Allows remote sensation sharing with marked targets)P
enalty for Failure: Permanent Libido Debuff + All Class Progression Locked Indefinitely
Time Limit: 72 hours
Warning: This is your final grace period. Failure results in irreversible stat degradation.
Venis read it twice, then let his head fall back against the pillow with a soft thump.
Permanent. The word sat heavy in his chest like wet concrete. No more chances. No reset. If he didn't finish this quest in three days, the system would brick him—leave him soft and useless forever. He thought of Charlotte's last text, the gentle misunderstanding she'd offered as comfort, and his stomach twisted.
He dragged himself out of bed, showered cold to shock the fog away, threw on yesterday's jeans and a plain black hoodie, and left the apartment without eating. The city moved around him—commuters, delivery scooters, the distant whoosh of a low-rank gate being cleared somewhere in the distance. None of it felt real.
By late afternoon he found himself in Hongdae, wandering into a dimly lit basement bar called Neon Veil. Fake leather booths, purple LED strips pulsing along the walls, low-fi beats thumping from hidden speakers. Not crowded yet—just a handful of early drinkers and a bartender wiping glasses with practiced boredom.
Venis slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar. "Soju. Bottle."
The bartender set a green bottle and two shot glasses down without comment. Venis poured the first one straight, knocked it back, felt the familiar burn chase away some of the numbness.
He was on his fourth when she walked in.
Long chestnut-brown hair in soft layers that caught the purple light, big doe eyes framed by dark lashes, full lips painted a soft berry shade. She wore dark skinny jeans that hugged the gentle flare of her hips and thighs, a cropped black sweater that showed a sliver of toned midriff and the soft curve under her breasts. Silver hoop earrings, a tiny nose ring that glinted when she smiled at the bartender. She moved with quiet grace—nothing flashy, just naturally magnetic.
She slid onto the stool two seats down, ordered a gin tonic, and glanced his way with a small, curious smile.
Venis caught her eye and lifted his glass in a lazy salute. "Rough day?"
She laughed softly—warm, melodic. "You could say that. You look like you've had one too."
"Guilty." He poured another shot, then—on impulse—pushed the bottle toward her. "Want to share? Misery loves company."
She hesitated for half a second, then slid over one stool so they were side by side. "I'm Venira."
"Venis." He grinned, already feeling the alcohol loosen his tongue. "We're basically soulmates already."
Venira's eyes sparkled. "Careful. I might believe you."
They clinked glasses—her gin against his soju—and drank. The conversation started light: favorite late-night snacks (her: spicy tteokbokki; him: convenience-store kimbap), worst hangover stories, the ridiculous price of coffee these days. But the alcohol worked fast on both of them—cheeks flushing, laughter coming easier, words tumbling out softer and closer.
Venis leaned in a little, elbow on the bar, voice dropping playfully. "You know, you have the kind of smile that makes a guy forget why he walked in here angry."
Venira tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks pinking deeper. "Smooth. Do you say that to every girl who sits next to you?"
"Only the ones who look like they could ruin my whole night in the best way." He let his knee brush hers under the bar—deliberate this time. "And you definitely qualify."
She didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her body toward him, thigh pressing lightly against his. "You're trouble, aren't you?"
"Only if you want me to be." He poured them both another round, clinked her glass again. "To trouble."
"To trouble," she echoed, sipping slowly, eyes locked on his.
The flirting built like a slow fire—vanilla-sweet at first, then warmer, more teasing. He complimented the way her earrings caught the neon, she teased him about the way he kept stealing glances at her lips. Her hand found his forearm when she laughed at one of his bad jokes, fingers lingering, tracing small absent circles. His skin tingled under the touch—not just alcohol warmth, but something deeper.
Then the system pinged softly in his vision.
[Hidden Skill Unlocked: Touch of Ecstasy (Lv. 1 – Passive)]Effect: Any skin-to-skin contact with a target induces mild euphoria and heightened attraction toward the user. Intensity scales with prolonged or intimate touch.Note: Skill activates automatically on first physical contact.
Venis felt it activate the instant her fingers had brushed him—subtle, warm, like honey spreading through her veins. Venira's pupils dilated slightly; her breath hitched mid-sentence. She didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned closer, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
Venis decided to test it—gently, deliberately. He let his fingers drift to her wrist, thumb stroking the soft underside in slow, lazy circles. "You have the softest skin," he murmured, voice low enough that only she could hear. "Makes me wonder what the rest of you feels like."
Venira shivered visibly, eyes fluttering half-closed. "You're… really good at that."
"At what?" He kept the slow circles going, letting his fingertips trail up the inside of her forearm—light, teasing, never pushing. "Just touching you? Or making you feel good?"
"Both," she breathed, leaning in until their shoulders brushed. "Definitely both."
He smiled—slow, confident now. "Good. Because I like making you feel good." His hand slid to her knee under the bar—gentle, asking. She parted her thighs just enough for his palm to rest there, thumb stroking slow arcs over denim. Her breathing quickened; she pressed into his touch like a cat seeking heat.
"You're making it really hard to sit still," she whispered, voice husky.
"Who said anything about sitting still?" He leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Tell me what you're thinking right now."
Venira swallowed, voice soft and needy. "That I want your hands everywhere. That I want to know what your mouth feels like on my neck. That I've never met someone who makes me feel this… dizzy… just from talking."
Venis let his lips graze the sensitive spot just below her ear—barely a kiss, more a promise. "Then let me show you."
She turned her face toward his, noses brushing. "You're dangerous."
"I'm not playing at all." His hand slid higher on her thigh—just an inch, slow, deliberate. "I just want to keep making you feel good."
Venira's hand found his chest—fingers curling into his hoodie. "You already are."
They stayed like that for long minutes—talking, flirting, touching in small, electric ways. His hand on her thigh, hers sliding up to cup the back of his neck, thumbs stroking the short hairs there. Every contact fed the skill; every touch made her pupils wider, her breaths shorter, her body lean harder into his.
Venis kept the seduction slow and verbal—whispering compliments against her skin, telling her how pretty she looked when she bit her lip, how he loved the way her thighs trembled under his palm. She responded with soft gasps, shy laughs, fingers tightening in his hair when he kissed the corner of her jaw.
By the time the bottle was empty and the bar had filled around them, Venira was visibly affected—cheeks rosy, lips swollen from biting them, eyes heavy with want.
She turned fully to him, one hand sliding up to cup his face. "Venis…"
"Yeah?" His voice was rough, low.
She searched his face, then smiled—slow, shy, radiant. "Would you… come home with me tonight?"
Her thumb stroked his jaw—soft, needy. The invitation hung between them, warm and open.
Venis felt the faint stir again—deeper this time. Not full hardness yet (the debuff still lingered), but the promise of it. The skill was working—building slow heat, chipping at the wall.
He brushed his lips against her temple—gentle, teasing. "I'd love nothing more."
Venira's smile widened. She slid off the stool, tugging his hand gently.
"Come on, then."
They stepped out into the night together, her fingers laced tightly through his, bodies brushing with every step.