NTR Massage Parlour: A Wellness Technique Guide

"Yohan, you're here," Gunjoo said as Yohan stepped into his office.

"Please, sit." He turned to the only other person in the room, one of his underlings. "Get us some beer."

The man slipped out quickly, leaving the two alone. Gunjoo leaned back in his chair, grinning.

"I hope you don't mind me calling you Yohan. The whole Mister thing felt too stiff. We're more like friends now, right?"

Yohan raised a brow. 'Friends? Since when?'

"Don't look at me like that," Gunjoo chuckled. "I've talked to you more than my own mother this week."

"So gangsters still call their mothers?" Yohan asked flatly.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? I call my Mami every week." He adjusted a framed photo on his desk so Yohan could see it—a younger Gunjoo with a tiny, smiling old woman.

Under different circumstances, Yohan might've laughed. But his head was already too clouded with other thoughts.

"So," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Is this why you called me here? To show me a picture of your Mami?"

Gunjoo chuckled at Yohan's sharpness. He was already used to it, the kid never joked around. To him, it wasn't rudeness—it was the posture of someone who hated being disrespected. And Gunjoo understood people like that.

It was common, really. Those who had once been powerless often carried an iron wall inside them, determined never to feel that way again. What puzzled Gunjoo was why someone as young as Yohan already carried that weight.

Still, respect was only fair. Especially for a competent man who knew how to stand his ground, no matter how young he was.

"Well, no," Gunjoo said, waving a hand. "Like I told you on the phone, I've got an opportunity you might want to hear."

Yohan leaned forward slightly. "Okay. I'm listening."

Gunjoo's grin slipped away, and he looked serious, "Come under my protection."

Yohan blinked. "What?"

"This is the opportunity I mentioned. I'll protect you and your business." Gunjoo's voice was flat now, more serious.

Yohan laughed, half a sound, half a defense. "Why would I need your protection when there's the police?"

"Because the police can't protect you from danger," Gunjoo said. "they can only arrest the culprit, if they even manage to catch them. They're unreliable. Me? I have men who'd die to keep what's under my care safe."

"Protection from what kind of danger exactly?"

"From people like me," Gunjoo said casually, but what Yohan took from it was different.

"People like you… are asking me to pay protection money so you don't disturb my business?"

He scoffed. "So you truly are just a gangster. What are you going to do if I don't agree, huh? Tear down my shop? Threaten me? 'Cause if you do, I'm going to make you regret it."

"You've got it all wrong, kid… have you heard of a man called Hatoru?"

Yohan's brows went up. "That old man?"

"So you do know him."

"Yeah. I met him earlier today outside my shop. He said he was a friend of my uncle and wanted to buy the place."

"And you said no, right?" Gunjoo asked.

"Of course. I have no plans on selling."

Gunjoo nodded, like he'd expected that answer. "I heard Hatoru's had his eye on that block for years. He already owns most of the buildings around there."

"That's not my problem. He can't force me to sell."

Gunjoo's smile thinned. "Hatoru isn't a businessman, Yohan. He's a mob boss, a ruthless one at that. He takes what he wants, and he doesn't care about how he does it."

Yohan's jaw tightened. "So what? If he threatens me, I'll call the police."

"The police won't stop him. Not when he wants something. The only thing that keeps people like him away is other people like me. If he knows you're under my protection, he would think twice. No one likes unnecessary fights."

A slow silence settled between them. Yohan thought of the old man outside his shop and the calm smile that hid teeth. He swallowed.

He felt the weight of Gunjoo's offer like a hand on his shoulder, possessive, and not entirely friendly.

"So what do you want in return?" he asked.

Gunjoo leaned back, crossing his legs on the table. "Would you be surprised if I said nothing?" He chuckled.

Yohan scoffed. "You obviously have your reasons for helping me out. So tell me."

Gunjoo let out a slow sigh. "Alright, kid. Truth is…I see something in you. Can't put my finger on it yet, but I know a capable man when I meet one. And I think having a friend like you might come in handy someday."

He stretched out his hand across the desk, palm open in a gesture, offering a handshake.

"So," Gunjoo said with a grin, "what do you say—friends?"

Yohan stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before finally taking it.

"Unfortunately for you, I have no plans of becoming friends with a gangster," he said flatly. "But I do know how to repay a favor. Let's just call this… an understanding."

A wide grin spread across the loan shark's face. "I can live with that. I'll drop by your shop tomorrow."

Yohan frowned. "Why?"

"Just so people see me around. Guys like that old man always have someone watching. Oh, and you should install some surveillance cameras at your shop and your house."

"Is that really necessary?" Yohan asked, skeptical.

"Trust me. Half the time, just knowing there are cameras is enough to keep trouble away."

Yohan gave it some thought, then nodded. "Fair point. I'll take care of it tomorrow."

He pushed his chair back and stood. "If that's all, I'll be taking my leave."

The loan shark raised a brow. "Leaving already? They haven't even brought out the beer. Stay, we'll drink together."

"I can't, I have somewhere I need to go,"

"Okay, should I tell two of my guys to accompany you?"

Yohan glanced at him curiously, why was he so eager to help?

"No, it's fine. I can handle myself," he said before leaving.

Everything felt off. He tried not to dwell on it, but the old man's words about his father refused to leave his head, and now the loan shark…. He sighed.