As several pairs of hands caressed my body, I suddenly felt boneless, losing my last bit of resistance...

Just then, the door was violently kicked open from outside, making the floor shake. It felt like being doused with ice water - my blood ran cold and my heart nearly stopped.

Immediately after, a bunch of men carrying cameras swarmed in like wasps, clearly there to catch us in the act. "Don't move!"

With their sudden intrusion, the room erupted in chaos, filled with women's panicked screams as they frantically searched for something to cover their bodies.

But they weren't fast enough to escape the cameras, which kept clicking away, not missing a single angle.

Under the lens, nothing could be hidden.

My hands and feet went cold, fine beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, my lips too dry to speak. My heart pounded like a drum, and my chest felt heavy as if crushed by a boulder.

Who were they? What were they doing?

After these men burst in, the male masseurs all stood behind them, arms crossed, looking amused at our predicament.

The leader was of medium build, slightly overweight, with a full beard that made him look menacing.

With a fake smile on his lips and a cunning laugh, the sinister look on his face deepened as he nodded with satisfaction, convinced of his victory.

"Group prostitution, huh? I've got evidence on every one of you."

All the women trembled, exchanging terrified looks, not knowing how to explain.

Through the crowd, I looked at the man who had called me "teacher." He was now watching our misery with amusement, his expression completely unfamiliar to me.

Biting my lip, unable to swallow this injustice, I angrily retorted:

"You're illegally filming us!"

The bearded man laughed coldly, a deep and jarring sound like a demon's mockery from hell. "Do you know how long the sentence is for group prostitution?"

His lackey chimed in: "Five years minimum!"