The shop smelled of plastic wrapping and old paper.
Behind the counter, the owner rummaged through a thick disc binder. “Disaster flicks are pretty niche. What subgenre are we talking?”
“Viral outbreaks, mutated beasts, alien invasions… the standard pre-apocalyptic survival stuff for ordinary people.”
“Gotcha, gotcha. Give me a sec, I’ll dig some up.”
Standing in the center of the shop, Su Jin’s eyes swept across the ‘Movie’ wall.
They were just cheap DVD covers, but they could still tell him a great deal.
Films offered a small window into a society.
He had come for disaster films to see how people in this world imagined dealing with catastrophe.
If he wanted to know how this society handled a crisis, skimming their pop culture was infinitely faster than digging through real-world sources.
He recalled his chat with Fu Qingdai; she’d mentioned renting DVDs to watch cartoons at home.
He’d have to find an excuse to swing by her place later and borrow her DVD player.
But judging by the owner’s comments, disaster movies weren’t exactly blockbusters here… The wall was dominated by posters of people making out.
Maybe the special effects here simply were not good enough yet to make big disaster films.
Two minutes later, the owner emerged from behind the counter holding three discs.
He shoved them toward Su Jin. “Here. These three are exactly what you’re looking for!”
“Just three?” Su Jin took the discs, examining the scratches. “These are pretty beat up. They’re not going to skip?”
“That’s all I’ve got. Don’t worry, if they skip, I’ll refund you.” The owner grinned. “Brother, I’ve been in this game a long time. I know exactly what you want. I love this genre too. The rest are garbage, but these three? Zero romance subplots, just pure, unadulterated disaster!”
“A man of culture! What’s the rental fee?”
“Same as the sign outside. Five bucks a pop, ten-dollar deposit.”
“Deal. I’ll take them all.”
Su Jin paid up without haggling. The owner pocketed the cash, beaming. “Need anything else? I’ve got all the latest blockbusters, guaranteed to impress!”
“Pull some historical films, contemporary dramas, and war films. They have to be grounded in reality. Keep the trash.”
“Relax, kid. I don’t stock bad films!” The owner spun around, grabbing another binder to resume his hunt.
A moment later, Su Jin had three more discs. He gave the covers a cursory glance and handed over the cash. “Looks good. I’ll take these too.”
“Anything else catching your eye?” the owner asked, his smile widening.
This kid was interesting. No fuss, quick with his wallet. Must be a hardcore cinephile.
“Hmm…” Su Jin’s brow twitched. He leaned in over the counter, dropping his voice. “Brother… you got, uh, that kind?”
The owner raised an eyebrow, instinctively matching his hushed tone. “What kind?”
“The good stuff.”
“I’ve got plenty of good stuff. Everything on that wall is good.”
“No, the good stuff.”
“Ah, no. We don’t do that here. Strictly a legitimate family business.” The owner straightened up, shaking his head.
Su Jin stared at the man, clicking his tongue. “Brother, I just dropped cash on six discs, and I’m going to be a repeat customer.”
The owner sized Su Jin up, testing the waters. “What flavor are you looking for?”
“Just needs to be visually stimulating… I’m a serious buyer, relax. But let’s get one thing straight upfront: I need to preview the merchandise. I don’t trust box art.”
Doesn’t trust box art… this guy is a connoisseur.
The owner chewed on it for a few seconds, then nodded. “Alright. Come around back.”
Following the owner’s lead, Su Jin pushed through a door at the back of the shop.
It led to a cramped, dingy backroom. A bare mattress lay on the floor next to a low table supporting a bulky CRT television. Clothes and DVD cases were strewn across the floor. It looked like the owner lived here.
The owner bent down, scooped a thick CD wallet off the floor, and flipped it open for Su Jin. “Here. Pick your poison. Twenty bucks a pop. Sale only, no rentals.”
Su Jin flipped through the plastic sleeves, greeted by an endless parade of bikini-clad women. He finished his scan and looked up. “Are these actually explicit?”
The owner laughed. “Brother, what kind of question is that? If an adult film isn’t explicit, that’s false advertising!”
“Alright, throw one on. Let’s see.”
“You got it! These are all quality discs. You’ll see!”
The owner pulled a random disc, bent over, and slotted it into an VCD player.
The laser whirred to life, and the convex screen of the CRT TV flickered into action.
As the video skipped ahead in hyper-speed, Su Jin narrowed his eyes, analyzing the footage.
The two actors on screen were locked in fierce combat, trading thrusts and barbs, hands and feet flying, giving as good as they got, with absolutely no sense of decency!
Honestly, the production value was amateur hour. For a veteran like Su Jin, whose brain had been thoroughly marinated in high-definition Japanese adult entertainment, this was child’s play.
But as the camera angle shifted into a tight macro shot, Su Jin’s eyes widened, and he leaned right up against the screen.
Perfect, an extreme close-up!
Closer, closer. Every detail came into focus.
Watching Su Jin practically pressing his nose against the glass, the owner’s grin slowly faded. He reached out and awkwardly patted Su Jin’s lower back.
“Hey, hey, hey! Brother, easy now! How long have you been in dry dock? You’re basically trying to climb inside the TV.”
Su Jin leaned back, rubbing his strained eyes, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction.
The human anatomy in the video was completely standard. They were ordinary humans. Their muscles looked just as he expected.
Even their movements looked perfectly ordinary.
It was another sign of just how similar this world was to Earth.
If he had to deal with people really did turn into zombies, he now had a reliable baseline for their physiology. He probably wouldn’t have to worry about alien organs or bizarre anatomical mutations.
“My bad. Just got lost in the cinematography for a second,” Su Jin said with a dry, awkward chuckle.
“So, how about it? Take it or leave it,” the owner said, waving the disc case.
Su Jin shook his head, tightening his grip on his bag. “I’ll pass for today. Maybe next time. Thanks, boss.”
“Are you kidding? This one is good! The owner recommends it! You were practically drooling over it a second ago, how could you just—” The owner’s voice died in his throat, his eyes locking onto a specific detail.
He stared at Su Jin’s hand beneath the trench coat.
Beneath the fabric, his hand had been rustling around, and had now suddenly gone perfectly still.
“No fucking way…” the owner whispered, his head tilting in sheer horror. “You’re done!?”
“What do you mean I’m done…” Su Jin paused mid-sentence. Following the man’s gaze beneath his coat, his face instantly darkened into an ugly scowl.
“Thanks. Have a nice life. I’m out.”
Without another word, he pivoted on his heel, marched out of the backroom, and beelined straight out of the shop.
The owner was left standing alone in the dingy backroom, staring at the empty doorway in bewildered disgust. Finally, he snapped.
“Holy shit… he blew his load in under three minutes! Jesus Christ, kids these days! Three minutes?! People mooch food, they mooch rides, and now this freak is out here mooching porn?! Stop watching smut and go see a goddamn urologist!”