Hacking to Get Close to BJs (Streamers)!

I stare blankly at the ceiling.

Every time I wake up in bed, Ha Yeon-soo’s face comes to mind.

Usually, sleeping with a woman leaves me feeling good, but she was different. At this rate, I might even end up having a wet dream—a first in years.

Still, I try my best to forget her.

Since getting this app three months ago and blackmailing BJs left and right, I’ve stuck to two personal rules:

Delete all incriminating evidence of the BJs I’ve been involved with after completing a mission.

Never meet a woman I’ve slept with a second time.

Deleting evidence isn’t just my decision—it’s also a command from the hacking tool. But even without that, I believe it’s the right move. It keeps things clean and eliminates potential loose ends.

I’m not some born sociopath or naturally unhinged lunatic. Even I feel a twinge of guilt about coercing women into relationships.

Honestly, while I act calm and collected during the blackmailing, I’m often a nervous wreck inside. I don’t intend to justify my actions or make them seem less terrible. But every time I do something despicable, a microscopic part of my conscience pricks at me.

That’s why I need everything to be erased and reset once a mission is over. Only then can I sleep soundly at night.

The two principles I follow were born from that need.

Ha Yeon-soo’s mission is finished, so I won’t be going back to that Pilates studio anymore. There’s no reason to flash my smug grin at her again, either.

“Forget it. Let’s move on to the next girl… no, the next mission already.”

Deciding to let go of the stunning yoga instructor, I stretch my arms with a refreshing yawn.

Pulling back the blanket, I greet the morning with renewed energy.

And as if my words had summoned reality, my phone vibrates on the desk moments later, signaling a new mission.

“Alright, let’s see who the next BJ is~!”

Humming to myself like an old man, I tap my phone to check the details.

The next moment, my face freezes like a statue of the Buddha.

[Mission Start!]
[Make-up Sex with Beauty Expert Broadcaster BJ Sunhwa]
Reward: 1.5 million won and access to new hacking technology

[Sub-Mission Start!]
[As proof of reconciliation, take an intimate, naked photo with BJ Sunhwa.]
Additional reward: 700,000 won

BJ Sunhwa.

That name is seared into my brain.

Just reading “Sunhwa” makes my forehead break out in sweat, a single bead trailing down my temple.

Fear and confusion hit me all at once.

A BJ I’ve already completed a mission with is being designated again? That’s never happened before.

“Isn’t repeat designation supposed to be impossible? I mean, it’s a rule I kind of made up myself, but still…”

And what exactly does “make-up sex” even mean here?

My brain starts short-circuiting. The collapse of my carefully maintained rules sends me spiraling into panic.

I try to recall my previous interactions with BJ Sunhwa to make sense of the situation.

Digging through my phone, I search for videos related to her.

No, I didn’t intentionally save any evidence. The hacking tool automatically records our encounters in its memory slot every time I sleep with someone.

The videos are strictly for my eyes only. I can’t use them for blackmail or share them with anyone—not that I’d want to. (At least, that’s what the hacking tool says.)

Two videos pop up under BJ Sunhwa’s name.

The first one shows me and her during sex.

Awkwardly entangled with her body, I see myself fumbling clumsily while Sunhwa glares at me the entire time with eyes like a vengeful Eye of Sauron.

It’s a miserable scene, with neither of us enjoying ourselves. I can’t bear to watch it, so I quickly turn it off.

The second video is a short, 15-second clip.

A pretty woman with pale platinum-blonde hair appears, filmed from the perspective of a smartphone camera.

“Hey, what the hell are you filming? Put that away!”
“Hold on. Just wait a second—I’m just taking proof, okay?”

“Are you out of your mind, you perverted creep? Did you lose it? I’m reporting you to the police, you disgusting bastard!”

“This is just for keepsake… Okay, okay! I’ll stop filming, so please let go of my arm—”

“Die, you parasite! Leeching off others, you filthy worm!”

“Aaaaagh!”

The screen goes black as the camera drops to the floor.

That’s where the video ends.

To explain: after we finished sleeping together, I tried to take a commemorative photo as part of a sub-mission. However, BJ Sunhwa wasn’t having it and bit my arm so hard I had to let go of my phone.

The phone naturally fell out of my hand, and the bite marks from that moment have practically become a legend. Sometimes, I feel like I can still see faint scars on my arm.

Of course, I failed that sub-mission.

As you can see, her temper is no joke.

I had cornered her with a video of her being overly friendly with a man she was negotiating a promotional deal with. But thanks to my inexperience, she completely outmatched me, despite the leverage I had.

She was the first strong-willed woman I’d encountered, and I had no idea how to handle her.

I somehow managed to convince her to sleep with me, narrowly avoiding an actual police report. That’s how our twisted relationship ended.

Given all this, it’s no wonder things between us were far from smooth.

Most of the women I’ve been with probably feel the same way, but BJ Sunhwa is in a league of her own.

That’s likely why the mission came with the absurd condition of “make-up sex.”

BJ Sunhwa is a beauty content creator. While her face is stunning, she’s like a rose covered in thorns.

No, scratch that—she’s more like a needle.

Actually, make that a dagger.

The thought of facing her again is daunting enough, but reconciling with her—and sleeping with her again—feels like eating three dry sweet potatoes in a row without water.

Clutching my phone, I pace back and forth in my tiny apartment.

No matter how much I wrack my brain, I can’t figure out a way to smooth things over with BJ Sunhwa.

To be honest, I’m scared to even meet her.

“…Maybe I should just face her head-on?”

They say knocking opens doors.

If I can’t find an answer by thinking, I’ll just have to meet her and try to make it work somehow.

The next day.

After mentally preparing myself, I take the subway to the outskirts of Seoul. I arrive at a relatively upscale villa—the same place I visited once before.

Using the hacking tool, it wasn’t hard to track down her address.

Ding dong!

I press the intercom and gulp nervously, trying to calm my parched throat.

After a long wait, a low female voice crackles through the speaker.

“…Who the hell are you?”