The Pochamacha Noir - Busan Redemption - Cover

The Pochamacha Noir - Busan Redemption

Copyright© 2025 by Noctavya

Chapter 8: A Peek of Hana

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 8: A Peek of Hana - A retired Korean Black Ops made a heartwarming friendship with a prostitute

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Coercion   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   NonConsensual   Rape   Fiction   Military   Tear Jerker   BDSM   Rough   Safe Sex   Revenge   Violence   AI Generated  

They got off the bus a little past midnight. The street was quiet except for a broken neon sign flickering above a closed chicken joint. Hana walked with her usual calm, while Sang Mi was mid-rant about a client who tried to pay her in crypto and Pokémon cards.

“Seriously, do I look like I accept PikachuCoin?!” she waved her arms. “I give people orgasms, not blockchain tutorials!”

Hana chuckled. “You should start a finance blog.”

“You joke, but I might. ‘Stocks and Suck Jobs: How to Survive the Market and the Motel Room.’”

She was about to launch into another bit when the sound of stumbling laughter interrupted them. Five guys—teenagers, reeking of soju and overconfidence—blocked their path. One of them, wearing a tank top two sizes too small and a haircut that screamed “middle school rebellion,” whistled.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Tank Top slurred. “Isn’t that Busan’s most famous working girl?”

Sang Mi rolled her eyes and stepped forward, unbothered. “Aw, look boys, it’s my fan club. Did your moms forget to breastfeed you or is this just the trauma talking?”

That got a couple snickers from the group—until one stepped closer. “You think you’re funny?”

“Yeah,” Sang Mi grinned. “Also prettier, smarter, and probably make more money than your dad’s pension. Run along before you sprain your ego.”

The guy shoved her shoulder, making her stumble slightly.

Hana moved fast—not to hit—but to gently catch Sang Mi’s arm and steady her.

“Sorry,” she said calmly to the group. “We’re just trying to go home.”

Another boy spat. “Who asked you, b*tch?”

They were getting louder. Closer.

Sang Mi muttered, “Let me bite his face.”

“No,” Hana said softly, raising her hand. “Let’s not escalate.”

 
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