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It was soft and warm. Oh Kang-Woo slightly twisted his body as he was enveloped by comfort as if he had dipped into a warm bath. He burrowed his face into the soft sensation. A fragrant scent stimulated his nose.
Fluff. He unconsciously reached out to touch the softness.
'It's big.'
It was so big that it was hard to grab with one hand.
"Mmph…!"
As he touched the soft thing, he heard a moan. It flinched, but it did not back off or run away.
'Ah…'
He rubbed his head on the soft object and relished it as much as he could. It was a sense of softness that he had never experienced before.
His life had been full of agony. It had been an endless cycle of despair, desperate struggles, and wretched writhing.
'For what had I tried so hard?'
He tried to remember. It was a memory of when he used to be in Hell. He had been at risk of death every moment of his life, to the point that it was honestly a mystery why he hadn't died.
The thought of committing suicide had crossed his mind thousands of times.
'So… why did I endure it?'
He couldn't remember. It felt fuzzy, as if part of a drawing had been cut out. The sensation that touched his face was warm. He curled his body up as if he were a child, or a fetus in his mother's belly.
"Hngh—"
He heard the sound again, but the soft sensation still did not disappear.
The softness enveloped his...
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