KMH – Chapter 21

“Vasectomy is a procedure that permanently blocks the vas deferens for contraception.”

He had undergone an STD test along with his consultation for the vasectomy last week.

The result: No abnormal findings.

Which, of course, had been expected from the start.

…Though, admittedly, thanks to Ha Jugyeong, his dick’s market value had briefly dropped to pocket change.

Arms crossed, Seju looked down at the test results with quiet satisfaction before finally glancing up at the doctor.

“Although rare, there is a possibility of contraceptive failure due to spontaneous recanalization of the vas deferens. You’re fully aware of that as well, correct?”

He gave a small nod and leaned back into the chair, tapping the STD results with his finger.

Would it be better to take a picture and send it? Or arrange for it to be couriered so she could receive it right after work?

He wanted, somehow, to deliver this news to Jugyeong—who had once so casually declared him the most promiscuous man she knew.

That he had always been a quiet, clean, and chaste man.

“Also, even after the procedure, residual sperm may remain in the vas deferens. You’ll need to use alternative contraception for about three months. During that time, you should ejaculate at least twenty times before undergoing a follow-up test to confirm—”

Seju, who had shown little reaction until now, glanced at the doctor.

The doctor flinched and trailed off.

Dr. Park Heecheol, a urology specialist, had restored quality of life to countless male patients. In certain anonymous online communities where men freely discussed their sexual health concerns, he was practically hailed as a savior. His reputation alone kept his shoulders squared and his confidence steady.

But—

Dr. Park could not forget the weight he had felt in his hands during the physical exam.

The color. The size. The thickness. The length.

Flawless.

Ever since examining Seju’s scrotum, he’d found it oddly difficult to meet his eyes. His own shoulders seemed to slump, his mouth tugging downward for no reason.

“So I need to empty as much semen as possible before it’s clear…”

Seju muttered to himself, folding his hands neatly over his abdomen.

Then, almost casually—

“Those twenty times—just the number matters, right?”

“…Excuse me?”

“I can jerk off all day. That’s easy.”

“Je—”

“Three months is too long. I’m in a hurry.”

He was serious.

Jugyeong had been drafting the contract lately. The thought of her small body dragging itself to work at dawn just to make a living was already enough to make the back of his neck ache with admiration. And now he had to wait three months for a follow-up test?

That meant a ridiculously long time before confirming that his dick was completely safe for her.

She looked ready to pounce at any moment.

Just yesterday, she had calmly announced that her period was almost over.

Condoms alone didn’t feel sufficient.

He’d decided to go under the knife from the beginning because he didn’t want Jugyeong to have to take oral contraceptives.

Three months.

Roughly ninety-one days.

About 7,862,400 seconds.

…Fucking long.

As Seju rubbed his forehead in irritation, the doctor forced himself to continue.

“Th-the three months and twenty ejaculations are guidelines to ensure contraceptive reliability. It’s the minimum time required for sperm to be fully cleared.”

Seju frowned as if this was far more complicated than simply tying something off—but nodded for the doctor to move on.

Adjusting his glasses, the doctor awkwardly began explaining the procedure using an anatomical model.

“Today, we will perform the procedure under local anesthesia…”

From the surgical steps to potential complications, the explanation dragged on.

At some point, Seju suddenly felt like smashing the window and jumping out.

He could just run straight to Jugyeong’s office.

That sounded far more entertaining.

He’d ask what she had for lunch. Check how she’d saved his name in her phone. Casually test whether she remembered how long she’d taken to reply to his message.

She remembered Ralph Lauren from Pony Camp—would she remember that too? Or would she just blink those clear eyes and drive him insane again?

“Lastly, even if you attempt a vasectomy reversal later, success is not guaranteed, and pregnancy cannot be assured. You understand that, correct?”

He nodded vaguely.

It felt like hearing distant news about some relative he barely knew—someone getting into college, someone getting married.

It meant nothing.

If it weren’t with Jugyeong, he wouldn’t need it anyway.

“That concludes the explanation. We’ll see you shortly in the operating room.”

The doctor signaled to a staff member near the entrance.

“Please guide him to the changing room.”

Seju followed.

It took less than a minute for him to change into surgical attire and lie down on the operating table.

He needed to be perfectly prepared—anytime, anywhere—for when Jugyeong decided to pounce.

***

Completely unaware that Seju had gone under the knife, Jugyeong spent nearly a week in a routine so predictable it made her yawn.

5:30 a.m. wake-up.

A glass of warm water. Light cleansing. Depending on the day—jogging, Ashtanga yoga, or swimming.

After morning exercise, breakfast, and getting ready for work.

By 8:40, she crossed the lobby of a mid-sized office building tucked behind the main streets of Seocho-dong, where various law and corporate firms clustered together.

The office was only on the second floor, yet she always took the elevator.

The tax firm employees.

The perpetually pale law firm staff.

The accounting firm workers are carrying drink carriers overloaded with takeaway cups.

She didn’t know their names or ages, but she knew their expressions—the silent vow that they’d quit someday soon.

In the cramped elevator filled with the smells of food, coffee, alcohol, and perfume, she waited until others pressed their buttons before finally pressing “4F — Patent Law Firm Ji-eum.”

Then she stepped back, careful not to brush shoulders.

“……”

Usually, she imagined squeezing the stress ball in her bag while watching the floor numbers change.

These days, she thinks of Seju.

More precisely, she replayed over and over the day they’d been trapped alone in an elevator.

His body was like a slab of rock wedged into a mountain pass.

The playful scrunch of his nose as he’d said, “Oh, it’s me. Seju.”

The thickness of his thigh wedged between her legs.

The size and heat of the hand that had pressed so firmly against her abdomen had made her insides ache.

After that, the absence of the stress ball hardly mattered.

Just as the doors were about to close—

“Hold on!”

A familiar face ran across the lobby.

Team Leader Han Yeji—who had successfully led the firm’s largest technical division until two years ago, before transferring to a newly established department last year.

“Thank you.”

Breathless, Han Yeji greeted the passengers with quick nods before turning to Jugyeong.

“Good morning, Ms. Ha.”

Jugyeong answered with a small smile.

On the second floor, the tax firm employees exited in a rush.

“Attorney Seo, long time no see. How have you been?”

“Good, thanks. And you, Patent Attorney?”

While Han Yeji exchanged pleasantries with a lawyer from another firm, the doors opened again. The accounting firm employees stepped out, leaving the elevator far less crowded.

“It’s only early June, and it’s already this hot in the morning,” Han Yeji said, fanning her blouse.

“They say this summer will be the hottest yet.”

Han Yeji discreetly nudged Jugyeong on the side.

Adjusting the ID card hanging from her neck, Jugyeong glanced at her curiously, then followed her gaze to the lawyer standing beside them.

“This is Attorney Seo Ji-hyeok. We worked together on that trademark infringement case early last year. And this is Ha Jugyeong, the ace of the non-technical design team at our patent law firm.”

Under Han Yeji’s expectant look—and Attorney Seo’s rather blatant stare—Jugyeong calmly took out a business card.

“Nice to meet you. Ha Jugyeong.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you from Team Leader Han. Seo Ji-hyeok.”

He retrieved his own card from inside his jacket and handed it over.

“Though technically, this isn’t our first time meeting.”

Jugyeong examined the card out of courtesy, then looked up.

Seo Ji-hyeok, handsome and composed, smiled gently and tapped the number printed on it.

“By the way, that’s my personal number. Not my work line. In case you were curious.”

“…Oh.”

Still smiling, Jugyeong’s brow creased faintly before smoothing again. She shot Han Yeji a look.

Han Yeji, barely suppressing laughter, shrugged innocently.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor—Law Firm Ji-eum.