"You did a very good job, thank you," the young woman said, handing Yohan a card.

"That's the kind of professional service we give here, ma'am," he replied with a small laugh.

"I'll be back soon," she added before leaving.

"Yeri Lim," he read the name on the card. It listed her as a gymnastics and dancing instructor. "Since when did gymnasts start carrying business cards?" He wondered.

"Maybe I should get my own too, so people would think I'm more professional."

A short distance from the shop, Yeri paused. She rotated her shoulders and then performed a deep backward arch. For an average person, the movement would have been impossible, but for her, it was a necessary, casual stretch.

A subtle expression of surprise crossed her face. "Hmm?"

She went straight to her usual training studio and changed into her training attire: a sleek, sleeveless leotard that hugged her body.

She flipped into a handstand, holding it effortlessly. She performed a few more movements, testing her shoulders. To her relief, they held up. Encouraged, she kept pushing herself.

Soon another girl, also wearing a similar leotard, walked over. "Yeri, you've been at it for almost an hour now. Don't you think you should relax?"

"I know you want to start winning competitions again, but it would be bad if your illness got worse. Did you go for the massage like I advised?"

Yeri was currently upside down, her legs bent forward in a deep V, her feet straining toward her head. She held the difficult position for a few seconds before slowly straightening her body.

"I did," Yeri replied, finally dropping her feet to the floor.

"How was it?" her friend asked, eyes wide.

"It was a guy this time,"

"A man?" The girl's eyebrows shot up. "And you still let him give you the massage?"

"Yes, full body, just like you advised," Yeri said, stepping away from the wall to stretch her arms.

"Wait, full body massage? That means you allowed him to touch your chest?"

"Yeah, it was really nice. He had very soft hands, and he was so good," Yeri murmured. A flicker of memory crossed her face—the feeling of Yohan's hands working every corner of her body. It had felt like the softest touch of comfort itself was caressing her skin.

"Ooh, sounds like he was a very impressive guy," her friend teased, nudging her side.

"Yeah, not just that. Since then, I can't feel the pain in my shoulders anymore," Yeri said, her voice turning serious.

Her friend's teasing expression vanished. "That's not how severe muscle strain works, Yeri. You can't just cure it after one massage. Remember, the doctor said pushing yourself too hard might make it impossible for you to perform again."

"I know, but now it doesn't even feel like I'm pushing myself," Yeri insisted, performing a clean aerial cartwheel across the floor. "It feels like when I was in my prime. I feel like I could even go back to doing major events and competitions."

"Are you serious?" Her friend was surprised.

"Yeah. It's like I just got a brand new body. Before, I could hardly hold a handstand for more than a few seconds, but now I'm going well over a minute."

"Well, I've never heard of a case like this before."

"Me neither. Even with the painkillers I usually take, I've never felt this good. Severe muscle strain usually means the end for people like us. I wonder how he did it," Yeri considered. To her, it was like Yohan had performed a miracle.

She had gone to many different places looking for a solution to her problems—from hospitals to physical therapy centers—but there was hardly any improvement.

Two years ago, she was considered a rising star in the world of gymnastics, even managing to make it into various international competitions. But then, everything suddenly became so hard for her.

It was as if her body was paying the price for her success. Simple tasks like running and walking started to require more effort than usual.

But even after she was diagnosed, she kept on trying, working twice as hard just to make up for it.

Although she was losing every competition she participated in, she didn't give up.

She managed with medication plus various healing treatments, but those weren't really doing much—until Yohan.

A single massage was able to make her feel this good. She was certain there was something special about him.

Back at the massage parlor, it was soon time for closing. After he locked up the shop, Yohan was greeted goodbye by Mia and Remi.

They were both visibly awkward, as if they were shy or guilty of something.

'Are they trying to act natural so the other one wouldn't notice?' Yohan chuckled internally. 'If only they both knew there was no need for all that.'

The two girls didn't know that they were both carrying his cum. It was kind of funny when he considered it.

He watched them walk away until they disappeared around the corner.

Now it was his turn to go home. He remembered the current atmosphere of his house—it was gloomy and filled with sad energy. His Aunt and Cassie were still finding it hard to handle his Uncle's arrest.

'I should probably go home a bit later,' he sighed.

Just then, he received a text from Helen. Just what he needed.

He rushed over to her house,

When she opened the door, she was wearing only a bra and panties beneath her apron.

"What took you so long?" she asked with a seductive tone, pulling him inside and slamming the door shut.

"Sorry, I was held up at work."

Yohan swallowed hard. 'Why is she cooking with only an apron on?' he wondered, though he wasn't about to complain. He was more than happy with what he was seeing.

'It's like she's doing some sort of cosplay,' he thought.

"Well, you're just on time. I'm almost done cooking. You just closed up, so I'm sure you're hungry."

She turned and walked toward the kitchen, presenting her back to him. He could clearly see her ass, two thick cheeks barely hidden behind red and black panties.

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