My Only Protector Is a Killer - Chapter 3

※ This book contains depictions of coercive/dubcon/noncon acts, violence, and gore. Reader discretion is advised.

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The girl’s name was Liv. No one knew her parents, birthplace, or age. Like many street-born children who came into the world after the apocalypse, she had been thrown into a garbage bin the moment she was born.

At first, an old woman took her in and raised her. After the old woman died, a pimp provided her with food and shelter.

Her moderately pretty face was a curse in this world. In a time when beauty—regardless of gender—was bought and sold, it was all too easy to exploit a girl without anyone to protect her.

The pimp, who noticed the potential in her scruffy, dirty face, planned to fatten her up and sell her at a high price. Whether before or after the apocalypse, young girls were the weakest.

Not wanting to be physically beaten, she obediently offered her mouth to the men as the pimp instructed. Sometimes she even offered her thighs, but at least the pimp hadn’t yet allowed anyone access to the more intimate part of her body—something to be thankful for, perhaps.

Still, before long, she realized she couldn’t live the rest of her life sucking on foul-smelling c***s.

That’s when she barely managed to escape from the pimp and met a group of street gang members.

“Alright, from now on, I’ll call you Liv. How does that sound? Do you like it, Liv?”

Liv joined the gang, and in exchange for her new name, she offered her first experience to the gang leader.

Thinking back, that scumbag was a perverted bastard too, but at the time, having just escaped from a place swarming with crazed men, it didn’t seem to matter. Compared to staying under the pimp’s control, she figured it was better to just close her eyes and give it up once.

The problem was that it didn’t end with just once.

“Bite down hard. You need to be beaten to learn your lesson.”

That bastard was truly a piece of trash.

Having lived on the streets even before the apocalypse, the gang leader was far more ruthless than other street thugs. No matter how little Liv stole from the day’s quota, he would catch on like a hawk. Even when she pleaded and begged, he didn’t stop slapping her until her mouth bled.

Still, Liv was considered lucky. No matter how competent the others were, if they didn’t meet their quota for the day, he would have his goons beat them half to death.

Occasionally, Liv would be spared, but only because she would put on her most servile act, flattering him with all her might. Despite her lack of pickpocketing skills and her frail physique even as she grew older, she managed to survive until adulthood thanks to her glib tongue.

If Liv sensed she wouldn’t be able to meet her quota, she would immediately lower her head and try to sweet-talk the leader. As revolting as it was, it was still better than just sitting there and taking a beating.

However, the gang leader wasn’t like the other soft-hearted adults she had dealt with before. He was unpredictable, and his mood would swing without reason. One moment he would affectionately dote on her, and the next, he would raise his hand and hit her for no reason.

‘That f*****g bastard thinks I’ll just keep wagging my tail even after treating me like that? Screw him.’

Liv had no intention of continuing to flatter that gang leader. The leader had a habit of selling off the girls as soon as they were old enough, and although he hadn’t sold Liv yet, it was only a matter of time before his mood shifted. She knew she had to avoid that fate at all costs.