SAEKGUI : The Carnal Wraith of Twin Islands

At the southern tip of Joseon, the jade sea stretched endlessly, rolling with a dark, oppressive weight.

Separated by rough currents and a biting wind that threatened to slice through flesh, two landmasses towered like a giant mirror reflecting one another.

The world called this cursed formation the Twin Islands.

Upon these islands, corrupt souls coiled, each wearing their own mask of deceit.

On the Main Island, Scholar Park and his lineage reigned, draped in the hypocritical skin of the noble Yangban.

A grueling half-day’s voyage away lay the Maternal Island, where the formidable matriarch, Lady Choi, ruled with an iron fist.

The sea embracing the Twin Islands was usually as calm and elegant as a woman's flowing silk skirt.

But when the heavens raged, it became a ravenous beast, baring cruel teeth ready to swallow the world whole.

Caught between the two glaring landmasses crouched a barren, uninhabited island wrapped in an eerie silence—a desolate rock where only angry waves and lost seabirds dared to rest.

The season was late spring.

The biting chill of winter had retreated, replaced by a sticky, humid heat that crept over the earth.

Since morning, the sky had hung low like a lump of lead.

It scowled, looking as if it would spill its swollen, damp desires at any moment.

Upon the dark gray sea, a lone skiff precariously cut through the currents, making a slow voyage toward the Maternal Island.

When the highborn lady of a noble Yangban house made a visit to the maternal estate, the strict laws of the Sadaebu dictated that her husband must accompany her, or at least provide a ferryman of proper standing.

Yet, Scholar Park was steeped to his marrow in the hollow vanity of his class.

He was a cowardly, fragile man—as pitiful and flimsy as the manhood between his legs.

Terrified of letting the harsh sea breeze touch his precious skin, he committed the horrific folly of entrusting his lawful wife to the hands of a beast.

"Sam-seok, you brute. You have the strength of an ox, so escort the lady safely. I shall be attending the academy today."

The cowardly scholar spat out those careless words.

He was entirely ignorant that this single command would tear open the prelude to a suffocating pleasure, dragging the Twin Islands into an abyss of absolute ruin.

In the middle of the rocking skiff sat a woman, elegantly perched upon a luxurious silk mattress.

She was In-young, the lawful wife of the hollow Scholar Park.

Twenty-eight years old, she was at the peak of her bloom.

She was so ripe that a mere touch could draw sweet moisture from her flesh.

Much like the blue jade hairpin piercing her neatly pinned chignon, her exterior overflowed with untouchable grace.

Yet, beneath her pale, translucent skin simmered a dark, captivating allure that effortlessly shattered the restraints of any man who met her gaze.

No matter how many layers of fine silk she wrapped tightly around her chest, the dizzying curves of her full breasts could not be contained.

The lush curve of her hips, resting weightily beneath the flowing skirt, was a silent emblem, signaling that the heavens had crafted her to be a ruinous siren.

Beneath the mask of a virtuous noblewoman, in the deepest, most secret abyss of her body, a primal hunger boiled violently.

It was a dark lust so intense she could barely contain it.

Sharing a bed with her wretched husband was an endless torture.

Far from experiencing the commanding weight of a true man, she was trapped in his feeble embrace, enduring shallow attempts before his useless member wilted into nothingness.

In-young's starving center had never once been satisfied.

This suppressed desperation twisted into a dangerous, taboo deviation in the daylight.

In-young had long since abandoned the dignity of a Yangban matriarch.

Even today, as she embarked on her journey, the soft cotton undergarments meant to shield her modesty did not exist beneath her thin silk skirt.

Beneath the luxurious fabric, there was only raw, bare skin.

With every slight rock of the skiff, the lustrous silk slithered like a snake against the tender flesh of her inner thighs and the sensitive folds of her sex.

It was a dizzying, forbidden thrill.

Whenever the damp sea breeze swept beneath her hem, In-young drowned in the rush of the taboo.

Shivers crawled up her spine, and she imperceptibly flexed her lower belly to swallow the creeping pleasure.

A guttural grunt of exertion tore through her hazy, wicked thoughts.

It was the sound of the towering brute rowing at the bow of the skiff.

Her servant, Sam-seok.