Substitute-Chapter 31

Michael Hansoo Kim, aka Kwak Tan

“Fucking hell, they’re really going at it.”

Kwak Tan chuckled as he rewound the bathroom CCTV footage.

Every private room and every single stall in the bathroom had surveillance installed. The official reason? To prevent any unfortunate incidents in advance. But the truth was, most of the guests had a fetish for piss and shit. Kwak Tan was no exception—he was quite into it himself.

Now thirty-five, Kwak Tan was the only son of Kwak Hye-eun, the cherished daughter of Honorary Chairman Kwak Hoon. He was also the only maternal grandson who’d gotten involved in the old man’s line of business.

Chairman Kwak Hoon was the kind of man who only cared about direct male descendants with the family name Kwak. Whether born of a wife or a concubine, if it was a son, he’d hand down his business. A stiff traditionalist. So when his one and only legitimate daughter got married, he cut her off financially without a second thought.

But that all changed after her marriage ended fourteen years later and she returned home, practically offering up her son like a sacrificial gift. The grandfather did a complete 180. He gave Kim Hansoo a new name—Kwak Tan—and gladly accepted him into the family. After that, he didn’t hold back on financial support for either mother or son. Thanks to that, the two of them enjoyed a life of wealth and decadence.

Of course, on all official documents, he was still Michael Hansoo Kim. But the old man didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it that way—it made it easier to hand off underground business without attracting attention.

One way or another, if it weren’t for his grandfather, Kwak Tan wouldn’t be who he was today. And for that, he truly loved and respected the man.

Kwak Tan paused the monitor and zoomed in on a specific frame. The massive 85-inch screen now showed nothing but a stiff cock and the mouth sucking it off.

Looked like the guy had just gotten his first wax—only the skin around the dick was pale and hairless. The one in the muzzle was panting, thrusting his hips. Each thrust made the sucker’s cheeks hollow and puff up in turn. Saliva dribbled from the plump lips of the one in the sailor uniform.

Slick, slurp, smack.

The wet sounds sped up.

Haaah. Kwak Tan let out a sigh of arousal.

His grandfather was probably enjoying this just as much somewhere.

Honestly, Kwak Tan was convinced there wasn’t a single grandson who could communicate with the old man on this level like he could. Not that the old man was strictly into men. If anything, he preferred women, but he also adored the world of men. A true sadist and degenerate. Just like him.

Which is exactly why anything sex-related in the so-called Paradise Project was left entirely to Kwak Tan.

It was, after all, marketed as a paradise for sodomites—a high-end pervert sex party disguised as a utopia. The most important thing was satisfying the host—his grandfather—and the elite guests. And he was in charge of making that happen.

Kwak Tan was a seasoned expert in every kind of sexual perversion. He had tabs on every red-light district in the country and had personally sampled most of the twisted brothels and clubs tied to prostitution.

Of course, he was also an active member in countless depraved online chatrooms—on messaging apps, on the dark web—receiving VIP treatment. But because scams were rampant online, he rarely participated directly. He usually sent someone else first and only stepped in himself once it was confirmed legit.

This year marked the tenth anniversary of the party, and Kwak Tan had poured his entire being into it.

He’d even dubbed it with a grand name: the Paradise Project.

The reason he was putting his life into what had become a fairly routine sex party—sometimes held three times a year—wasn’t just because it was meant to celebrate his grandfather’s 80th birthday.

Only two years ago, the old man could still get it up on his own. Now, even with meds, he could barely get hard. The trauma of losing Jade—his beloved cocksucker—and then his practically-wifed lover, Cha Jongsu, one after another, had wrecked him.

His health had spiraled since. The man once called the Siberian Tiger was now a toothless feline, unrecognizable from his former self.

Kwak Tan never understood it.

Why did his grandfather love Cha Jongsu so damn much?

Sure, the guy was decent-looking. But he wasn’t that much of a knockout. He wasn’t charming. He wasn’t kind. None of it. If anything, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ he was hysterical, vain, and cruel—especially at the end, though Kwak Tan wouldn’t say it out loud.

Yet the old man had been completely smitten. Even when he found out that Cha Jongsu had secretly gotten rid of Jade, he kept quiet and buried the whole thing.

If Cha Jongsu had been the only one willing to accept all the old man’s twisted tastes, maybe it would’ve made sense. But the guy wasn’t even that young—he was, what, forty-six or forty-seven when he died?

Fucking bastard. Good riddance.

A strange smile curled on Kwak Tan’s lips.

He didn’t want to think about that asshole on a day like today, so he shook the thought out of his head.

Kwak Tan had always projected himself onto his grandfather. So it pained him to see the old man so drained and weak. For this party, he’d planned to provide the most extreme stimuli to lift the man’s spirits.

That’s why he’d spent over seven months recruiting the party crews. He’d taken risks he’d never taken before, even holding interviews. He didn’t get perfect results, but the seven he chose were close enough. Seven boys who looked like Jade and Cha Jongsu.

And to match them, he prepared top-tier bottoms—ones who’d tease, fuck, and get fucked to satisfy both his grandfather and the guests. Even Cha Jongsu would be clawing his way out of the grave with jealousy.

A smile lingered on his lips.

Then he remembered Kwak Jun, that toad-faced bastard, and his expression twisted.

That little shit, who didn’t have an ounce of worth, was just as obsessed with this party as he was.

Kwak Jun was three years younger. The first son of his uncle—the chairman’s concubine-born son. A direct grandson, unlike him, a maternal one. And yet, the guy was lacking in every way.

His father was the spitting image of Chairman Kwak—smart, smooth-talking, tall, well-built. But Kwak Jun got the worst traits. Kwak Tan was technically "non-blood" too, but since his mother was the old man’s actual daughter, that worked in his favor.

Kwak Jun was slow-witted, bad at conversation, and most importantly, short as fuck.

Naturally, the old man didn’t like him. He’d frown just at the sight of him. The more he was ignored, the more desperate Kwak Jun got to win the chairman’s attention. But he never got more than a mosquito-sized speck of interest.

So it made sense he was betting everything on this project.

Because once the old man found out his grandsons were throwing him a birthday bash, he said he’d be making a major announcement. Rumor had it that it was about the inheritance. Of course a greedy fuck like Kwak Jun couldn’t sit still. A basic, girl-chasing little shit trying to score whatever scraps he could.

He’d begged to be allowed in as a guest. Got rejected immediately. So then he tried to weasel into the recruitment drive Kwak Tan was running. Secretly hired a broker to scout candidates.

Did he even realize how dangerous that was? He was poking around all over the place—it drove Kwak Tan insane. Sure, thanks to that, they did find two decent crew members. But that didn’t mean he’d be forgiven.

That little fuck had the nerve to stick his nose in someone else’s bowl.

Kwak Tan clenched his teeth.

He hit play again.

On screen, a guy easily a hundred times hotter and younger than Cha Jongsu was eagerly sucking another guy’s cock.

“What a waste,” he muttered, smacking his lips.

Masturbation was banned for the week, but those two couldn’t help themselves and pulled this shit in the bathroom. The rules were the rules. No matter how much of a waste, they had to be kicked out.

Two expulsions on the first day—that was a hell of a loss.

Just as he was getting off to their oral action, Kwak Tan pressed a button.

“Drag them out.”

The command went from one manager to another in real time.

“Fucking sluts,” Kwak Tan muttered and posted the expulsion notice in the guests-only group chat.

His phone buzzed immediately.

His friend and fellow guest, Kim Taehyun, shared a cropped, zoomed-in still from the footage.

[Adios]

[But seriously, is that guy’s cock just huge, or does the sucker have a tiny mouth?]

[Shit, that dick shrunk from getting sucked so hard LOL]

[Damn. Look at those veins.]

[Should’ve at least gotten some ass before they got booted.]

It wasn’t a conversation so much as everyone just saying whatever the hell they wanted.

[Refills?] Kim Taehyun asked.

[Obviously.]

Kwak Tan uploaded photos of the backup candidates to fill the two empty slots and added a poll.

The votes came in instantly.

[None of you fuckers work, huh.] he snarked, checking the results.

Sure, they were a downgrade from the originals. But they’d still be fun to play with.

The real game would only use the best, anyway.

He pressed another button to notify the admin. Soon, two backup candidates waiting on B1 would be summoned upstairs.

Kwak Tan replayed the earlier footage from the beginning.

His once-slack cock grew harder again from the wet sounds on the screen and the heat building below.

Everyone else was probably jerking off to the same video. Or maybe they’d already summoned someone to suck them off. Just like he had.

Kwak Tan grabbed the hair of the one crouched between his legs. The mouth sucking his cock let out a faint moan, then wrapped tighter around him, sucking even harder and deeper for his pleasure.

“Fuck yeah. Now this is life.”

He groaned, sinking back into the chair.