"Hey! Open the damn door already! You deaf or what?"
The front door had barely swung open when a shrill voice pierced the air.
Silver hair swayed with her movements, and ruby-red eyes—eyes so striking no one would believe they belonged to a human—glared right at me.
Lee Arin.
My one and only little sister.
"I was gaming and didn't hear you."
"God, you're hopeless, Joon. All grown up and still rotting away in your room like a shut-in, playing games all day."
My sister—Lee Arin—unloaded her venom before even kicking off her shoes.
She never called me "bro." Basic stuff like "piglet," "loser," or "human trash" was her go-to repertoire.
When we were kids, she'd trailed after me like a sticky gumdrop, chanting "Oppa! Oppa!" nonstop... I couldn't even remember the last time I'd heard that word.
"Move."
Arin shoved my shoulder and barged inside.
A whiff of shampoo and her fresh, youthful scent brushed past my nose.
"Whoa... this place is a total pigsty. Do you ever clean?"
She pinched her nose and wrinkled her face.
"Ugh, fuck. What the hell is that smell? Something's rotting."
"...Dunno?"
I sniffed around, but all I caught was Arin's insanely intoxicating aroma.
'Is my nose just used to it?'
She stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
"...It's like days-old body odor mixed with sweat, making me wanna puke. Air this place out, you psycho."
"I showered yesterday..."
"Bullshit."
Thinking back, I'd fetched water from the well in [Abyss Miner] and washed up there. Today, I'd mined my ass off and jumped straight back to reality without showering.
Arin strode into the living room.
Her short pink dolphin shorts revealed creamy white thighs that smacked me right in the eyes.
She wore nothing up top but a loose white tee, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the pronounced curves that jiggled with every step.
'Fuck.'
I swallowed hard without thinking.
She's my sister, but fine, I'll admit it.
She's drop-dead gorgeous.
Out on the street, guys would line up for her number. She's idol-centerfolds-level hot, the kind that slaps you across the face.
And her tits? Massive.
Natural E-cups.
Our genes must've funneled every scrap of nutrition straight to her chest and face—nothing left for me.
"...Hold up."
Arin, slamming her bag down irritably, turned to look at me.
Normally, she'd snap her gaze away in disgust, but today her stare lingered oddly.
"What'd you do?"
"Do about what?"
"Your face looks... smoother or something?"
She tilted her head.
"It used to look like moldy tangerine peel, but today you almost pass for human. Those nasty pockmarks seem faded too. I figured you'd pulled an all-nighter gaming and wrecked yourself, but your skin actually looks better?"
"..."
Her usual vicious jabs aside.
"Looking more human" probably meant my Charm had gone up.
Status window definitely showed Charm at -10, right?
That's a whopping +10 from the pre-awakening -20.
Still negative as hell, total trash-tier, but before, one glance made people want to hurl in revulsion.
Now? Just kinda ugly guy territory.
Plus, my trait [[Earth's Blessing]] probably helped.
Boosts overall physical recovery, so skin improvements make sense.
Of course, the first to notice would be this sharp-tongued sister of mine.
Strange feeling.
"No way you could afford dermatology. You just sleep all day?"
"Mind your own business."
"Hmph, drawing lines on a pumpkin won't make it a watermelon. You're still ugly—don't get cocky."
Predictably, no praise without a kicker.
Arin snorted and plunked her insulated bag on the table.
"Mom sent side dishes over today—that's why I'm here. Don't flatter yourself thinking I came to see you. And don't expect me to fridge 'em for your lazy ass."
"Yeah, got it. I'll handle it. Thanks."
"Thanks my ass. Look at this pigsty. You really gonna live like this? Mom would faint if she saw. I only came in 'cause I'm family—anyone else would've called the cops the second the door opened."
Arin scanned my room, sighing with contempt.
Cola cans scattered on the floor, discarded socks, half-eaten ramen cups.
Even I had to admit it was bad.
"Eww, the smell! I'm gonna hurl."
Unable to take it, she marched to the window.
Scraaaape—! Slam!
Cold air rushed in as she flung it open, but she didn't stop.
She rummaged in her shopping bag and pulled out a dingy-looking spray can.
"Wash up and clean for once, huh? Act like a human!"
Psssh—! Shhhhh—!
Arin went wild, spraying air freshener everywhere—mid-air, on the bed, over my clothes, every corner.
Even aimed straight at me.
"Hey! What the fuck? Trying to kill me?"
"Stay still. Disinfecting. Killing your filthy germs."
Finally satisfied, she set the can down.
"Phew, now it's livable."
"...Bullshit's a disease."
"What'd you say?"
I sighed and bent to grab a fallen T-shirt from the floor.
That's when it happened.
"Hey, ignoring me?"
Arin blocked my path, annoyed.
In that instant.
"..."
Her cleavage spilled out from the T-shirt, fully exposed.
So huge they defied gravity, leaning forward in a spectacular view.
Faint bra strap marks showed through the thin fabric, those heavy mounds swaying with every motion.
Throb.
Blood rushed downstairs.
Of course, no visible tenting.
Not packing monster truck down there.
'At least she won't notice I popped a boner for my sister. Small mercies.'
Tears welled up.
Relieved my dick's small.
But what can you do?
She's blood-related.
If she caught me hard, my life's socially nuked that day.
Hell, half-nuked already.
Why'd I end up in this cramped studio alone?
Not job, not college.
I'd been part-timing, high school grad—no uni for me.
One reason.
Two years back.
Thought house was empty, grabbed Arin's panties from the laundry basket like always, snuck to my room.
Lacy white ones.
Sniffing her scent, jerking one out.
Bang.
Door flew open.
Mom.
Panties to my nose, hand blurring on my leaking dick.
Her contemptuous glare, snatching the panties, quietly closing the door—still haunts me.
That evening, she slid a bank book over quietly.
'Get out. I'll keep it from Arin, so just go live somewhere. Don't come home. Stay out of my sight.'
Exile.
Treated like a sex offender, kicked out.
Arin thinks I just wanted independence.
If she knew? She'd bring a kitchen knife, not side dishes.
"God, so gross I can't even."
Arin grimaced, tsking, and kicked the trash bag in the corner.
"I'll do it."
I reached for it, but she smacked my hand away.
"Nah. Your touch would contaminate it. Pointless."
She bent deep, gathering the cans from the floor.
'Hngh.'
The view from behind choked me.
Dolphin shorts hiked up, exposing her ass line raw.
Pale, firm inner thighs, panty outline peeking between.
White.
Lacy white panties.
Brain went blank.
Those ones.
Same design as the ones I sniffed two years ago.
Probably not the exact pair, but close.
Seeing them triggered that maddeningly arousing scent in my mind.
Dick throbbed painfully hard.
'Fuck, I'm losing it.'
My stats now: Strength 11.9, Agility 11.7.
Over double an average adult male.
Hell, I could overpower a non-awakened girl like Arin with one hand.
Pounce now, grab those slender wrists, pin her down, clamp that sassy mouth...
She'd fight back, sure.
'What the fuck? You crazy? Joon? You bastard!' Screaming.
But she couldn't match my strength.
Spread those white legs, force my way in.
Gulp.
Just imagining it made saliva flood my mouth.
Memories from [Abyss Miner] flashed.
Snapping that pockmark's arm yesterday—that rush.
Crushing foes with my power—that thrill.
Mixing weirdly with lust, egging me on.
'I could do it. Right now.'
She wouldn't stand a chance.
Watch those eyes—always treating me like vermin—fill with fear of her big bro.
Restore my dignity.
Reach.
Hand extended toward her exposed ass unconsciously.
"Ah, fuck seriously. Spitting gum in your room? Wanna die? You fucking shit, Joon."
Arin recoiled, scrubbing the floor furiously.
Sanity snapped back.
'Crazy bastard. What the hell was I thinking?'
This ain't the manga.
Not [Abyss Miner]'s world—reality.
Rule-of-law South Korea.
Rape my own sister here?
Cuffs immediately.
Even awakened and strong, I'm bottom-tier hunter.
Can't beat state hunter cops. Flee? Lifetime fugitive.
Worth flushing my life for one quick thrill? No.
Too much left to enjoy.
Succubus Queen, Harem King, endless heroines at higher levels.
Plus.
Might sever my last family tie.
"Ha..."
Self-loathing surged.
Pulled my hand back, clenched a fist.
'Am I really this pathetic fuck?'
This damn lust is a curse.
"Hey, quit standing there like an idiot. Grab the rag over there."
"...Yeah."
Meekly fetched a wrung-out rag from the bathroom.
Splashed my face too. Cold water cooled the fire in my head.
Dick still twitched painfully.
But mind cleared some.
"Here."
"Took you long enough. Slug much?"
She snatched it and scrubbed the floor.
Bending over, hair cascaded over her face; beads of sweat dotted her pale neck between strands.
"Live alone, at least clean up... Hoo..."
Muttering, she straightened, wiping forehead sweat.
T-shirt pits soaked translucent, sweat scent driving me mad.
Internet armpit pics overlaid her in my mind.
Minutes later, done mopping, she tossed the rag aside.
"Ugh, exhausting. Anyway, it's sorta clean now—I'm out. Fridge the sides before they spoil. Throw 'em away? I'll kill you."
"Yeah, go ahead."
"Listen to that tone. Call Mom already. No contact from her precious boy?"
Mom mention stabbed my chest.
Kicked me out, yet sent sides via sister.
Even for a panty-sniffing pervert son, family pulls through. Heart ached.
"Got it. I will."
"Do it. And shower, please! You stink—hate being near you. Body wash in the bag—use it. Begging."
Arin headed out, waving air away.
Slam.
Door shut.
Silence returned.
Wind rustled curtains; air swirled with her sprayed freshener and lingering sweet body scent.
"Hoo..."
Damn close to disaster.
Traits boosted confidence too much.
'Be careful. Reality's reality.'
Separate them.
Manga: god, king.
Here: shut-in loser Lee Joon.
Hunter success changes that, but not yet.
"Sides first."
Opened the bag.
Cabbage kimchi, stir-fried anchovies, braised beef, seasoned dried squid.
All my faves.
Throat tightened.
Why spoil a worthless jerk-off son like this?
Eyes stung red.
"I'll make it. For real."
Stashed containers in the fridge.
Succeed big, walk home proud.
So Arin can't look at me like scum—slap her with cash stacks.
But one thing wouldn't settle.
My dick, obviously.
Her leftover scent? That cleavage glimpse?
Still rock-hard.
"Fuck..."
Won't sleep like this.
Suppressed urges twisting, ready to explode.
Naturally sat at the PC.
Familiar clicks opened folders.
[Secret Hobby] → [Animation] → [Hardcore]
One video among tons.
[The Fallen Silver-Haired Saint]
Most jerked to ever.
Thumbnail heroine: silver hair, red eyes.
Holy saint faithful to god, but busty, foul-mouthed bitch—Arin clone.
"Hoo..."
Hit play; she shrieked bitchily right away.
Overlapped with Arin yelling at me minutes ago.
"Ngh, fuck... Arin..."
Name slipped out.
Projecting real sister onto fantasy amp'd the taboo thrill.
"Bro's... ngh, bro's sorry..."
Screen saint whimpered in ecstasy; I hit limit.
"Hngh!"
Shuddered with a short groan.
"Haa..."
Quick tissue cleanup, pants fixed.
Then, noise outside.
Arin back? Tensed—but just a thud of something dropped.
Delivery.
Opened door, hauled in the box.
Expected two days; arrived early.
Riiiip.
Inside, my ordered goods gleamed beautifully.