22-7

EP.7 1. (Pre-Livestock Female University Student Lee Sol-ah) - The Property Bride Academy (7)

I came out of the fitting room wearing livestock attire. I had neatly folded my old clothes and left them there.

"I'll take this. Please calculate the cost."

"Thank you. Are you going to wear it out like that?"

"Yes. I need to get used to it. Besides, I have a dinner appointment with my fiancé tonight."

"Ah, I see. You're very beautiful, so I'm sure your fiancé will like it."

I paid with a card. The price of pre-livestock attire was lower than women's clothing from the same brand. This was because women's clothing had lower demand, making it more expensive.

"Please dispose of the clothes you wore before in the fitting room."

"Really? They're expensive, are you sure?"

"It's okay. Keeping them would only leave me with regrets."

"Can we give them to our daughter? She attends a genius middle school, but my husband and I can't afford to buy her decent women's clothing."

There are three ways for women to earn money:

Surviving in the bureaucratic society.

Working for a large corporation.

Marrying a wealthy man.

Unfortunately, this saleswoman didn't fit into any of those categories.

"It would be an honor if you wore them well."

The saleswoman bowed at a 90-degree angle with a bright smile.

"Thank you. I'll treasure your warm heart and wear them with care."

"Now that I'm going to be a livestock, the heart of a livestock doesn't matter, does it?"

"No, you'll always be a miss in my heart. Someone like you should have become a bureaucrat...alas..."

The saleswoman's words were heartfelt. I felt comforted by her sincerity.

As I left, I noticed a lingerie section.

"Ah, I should get underwear for livestock too."

Underwear for pre-livestock was different from regular women's underwear.

Bras that exposed nipples, even with a covering, had zippers.

Panties that covered the buttocks were rare; most exposed the buttocks entirely.

Panties that covered the buttocks usually had zippers near the vagina or buttocks.

I was wearing white lace panties, which only women with rights could wear.

But I'm going to be a livestock now. I need to get used to this kind of underwear.

I entered the store and chose bras and panties with zippers.

Although I still had some resistance to bras that exposed nipples or panties that exposed buttocks, the idea of being able to open them to show my fiancé was somewhat exciting.

The right to open the zippers belonged only to my fiancé. It was the only authority I had as a pre-livestock.

I changed into the new underwear in the fitting room and threw away my old ones. You can't give used underwear to others.

Looking at myself in the new underwear, I thought I looked beautiful.

"I think my fiancé will like this."

He'll definitely like it. Now, all that's left is to confirm his character.

We'll have many conversations over dinner, and I'll do my best to bring out his true nature.

I've done everything I can as a pre-livestock.

I left the department store wearing the pre-livestock attire and underwear.

I walked down the street. The place where I was meeting my fiancé was too far to walk from the department store, but I had two hours before our appointment.

Walking on two legs outside will be impossible a month from now. Once I become a livestock, I'll never be able to walk on two legs again.

The high heels were less comfortable than my usual low-heeled shoes, but they made me taller, giving me a clearer view and a refreshing feeling.

As I walked, the top I was wearing clung to my breasts, making me feel like I wasn't wearing anything. This made me feel embarrassed.

I felt the zipper on my panties every time my thighs crossed. It felt like the zipper was already a symbol of being a livestock, making me melancholic.

I sensed the gazes of those around me. I used to enjoy being the center of attention, especially from other women.

As an elite with lifelong rights, I enjoyed the envy of others.

But now, it's different. Most of the attention comes from men.

"Wow, a zipper bra is quite something!"

"Of course, there must be a zipper on the panties too. If you unzip it, you'll see the moist vulva...ugh..."

"We need more women like that in the livestock market."

Passing men in their 50s openly harassed me. Harassment is a crime against women in regular clothing, but not against pre-livestock or livestock.

The government encourages us to get used to this because we'll face worse treatment once we lose our rights.

Women don't even look at me. Being a common pre-livestock, there's nothing to envy.

No matter how beautiful my face, breasts, or legs are, I'll become someone's property, a commodity that can be bought and sold.

What's there to envy about being a commodity?

"Ah..."

I looked up at the sky. It was clear, unlike my cloudy mind.

"...Oh?"

I saw a sign: [Property Bride Academy for Uneducated Women - 2 Weeks Completion].

This was exactly the kind of school I needed.

Apparently, women who failed to attend genius high schools often become social problems. They sometimes harm their owners or commit suicide because they mistakenly believe they still have rights.

I don't want to become a livestock, but if I have a good owner, I might be able to live a decent life like my mother.

A livestock's duties, mindset, and how to serve their owner.

I somewhat understand from watching my mother, but my family is special. My father doesn't treat my mother like a livestock, only following the law when necessary.

Therefore, I don't know much about typical livestock life.

"...I mustn't make mistakes."

I checked my watch. I still had two hours before my appointment.

The meeting place was nearby, so registering at the academy wouldn't take much time.

I headed to the academy on the seventh floor.

As the elevator doors opened, about ten women in pre-livestock attire stepped out. They were around my age.

Their faces didn't look happy, probably because they were coming from socialization education.

"Welcome."

Inside the academy, a woman in women's clothing greeted me politely. She looked about 30 years old, clearly someone with rights.

I felt a bit intimidated by women with rights now.

"I'd like to have a consultation. Is it possible now?"

"Fortunately, the principal has just finished a class. Please come this way."

I followed her to the principal's office, passing by lecture rooms.

There was one theory room and one practical room, indicating that there weren't many students.

It's not surprising, given that only 10% of women can attend genius high schools, and this academy targets those who didn't get into the National Capital University.

"Principal, I'm here for a consultation."

"Yes, please come in."

Click. The door opened to a well-decorated room where the principal sat.

She was in her mid-30s and quite beautiful. However, she was wearing pre-livestock attire like me, which was unusual.

"Please sit over there."

I sat on the sofa she indicated, looking a bit puzzled.

She prepared some documents and sat across from me.

"Two coffees, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

After the receptionist left, the principal extended her hand. I took it; her hand was small but warm.

"It must have been difficult for you to come here."

Her greeting encompassed everything. She understood my situation.

Women who come to this academy are all in similar circumstances. She knows how they feel.

I held back tears, not wanting to ruin my makeup.

"But having prepared yourself, you'll have a better married life than other students."

"That's what I hope for."

It was reassuring to hear. I decided to enroll in the academy.

The principal was a professional. She knew the anxieties people like me face and explained that they stem from a lack of information and uncertainty.

She said her duty was to provide information and eliminate uncertainty.

Her explanation was logical, and I felt I needed to attend.

"Do you have a fiancé?"

"Yes, we've had a meeting. My father arranged it, and he seems kind."

"When are you getting married?"

"We're getting married a month later. We have a dinner appointment tonight."

"That sounds like a good husband. We can skip the part about choosing a good husband in the curriculum."

"Yes..."

"Can you start classes tomorrow? The sooner you start, the better."

"Yes, I'll attend."

"Once again, I commend you on your difficult decision. Thank you."

The principal bowed her head. I couldn't tell if she genuinely understood me or was just being polite for the money.

"The payment has been processed."

The cost was substantial, which was expected for a specialized course with low demand. I had no choice but to enroll.

"Classes start tomorrow at 2 PM. Please don't be late."

"Yes, ma'am. I have a question..."

"Feel free to ask. Now we're in a teacher-student relationship."

"Why are you wearing pre-livestock attire when you have rights?"

"Ah, that's a fair question."

The principal smiled.

"I wasn't originally from a genius high school."

Her story was shocking.