Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: The Haircut
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[That's a relief. Since you've come this far, is there anything you'd like?]
'Something I want...'
"I'm not sure."
Nothing came to mind right away.
[In that case, how about getting a haircut while you're at it?]
"My hair?"
[Yes.]
Yuseong ran a hand through his hair.
"Is that necessary?"
To Yuseong, hair was just something to keep from getting too long and annoying—nothing more, nothing less.
[People tend to warm up to those who look neat and tidy. If you'd like to build rapport more easily with others, I recommend tidying up your hair.]
"Yeah?"
Yuseong glanced out the window.
People walking along the roadside. Most of the men like him had short hair. And many sported similar styles.
"Alright, then."
[I'll guide you to a nearby salon.]
The turn signal blinked on, and the steering wheel turned smoothly as the car changed lanes.
Everything in this world fascinated Yuseong. Driving was no exception.
'There are rules.'
The road was filled with cars besides the one he was in. Yet none tangled or collided.
The vehicles stuck strictly to the right side of the central orange line. They stayed within the white dashed lines and always used their turn signals when changing lanes.
At intersections, they moved in sequence according to the lights. He finally understood the true purpose of those traffic signals he'd seen outside—tilted and eerie amid ruined roads.
'I want to try driving it myself sometime.'
He rested his hands on the wheel to look natural from outside, but the Strategy Guide was still doing all the driving. Yuseong hadn't even placed a foot on the accelerator or brake.
Not for now. On these rule-bound roads, grabbing the wheel without knowing the rules or basic controls could spell disaster.
Yuseong knew full well how dangerous an object this heavy, moving at this speed, could become as a weapon.
But driving could be learned, and rules memorized.
"Will I be able to drive myself someday?"
[It'll take practice. If you'd like, I can arrange it later.]
"I do."
[Understood.]
After a few minutes on the road, the car pulled into a parking lot in front of a building.
"Here?"
[Yes.]
The Strategy Guide indicated a shop with an entire wall of glass. The interior was visible through it.
'I think I remember seeing a place like this.'
He recalled rummaging through ruins. There might've been a similar setup.
"Welcome!"
As Yuseong entered, a stylist greeted him. Following the Strategy Guide's instructions, he said,
"I have a reservation."
"May I have your name?"
"Lee Yuseong."
"This way, please?"
Yuseong followed the stylist to a chair.
A man was getting his hair cut to the left, and to the right, a young woman was flipping through a magazine with some odd plastic cap over her hair.
It felt awkward. He glanced around the salon unnecessarily, and behind him, the stylist wheeled over a cart filled with tools he assumed were for cutting hair.
"First time here?"
"Ah, yes."
"Shall I cut it as we discussed over the phone?"
"Yes."
You couldn't offer opinions without knowledge. Yuseong, knowing nothing, could only parrot back "yes" like a bird.
'What would I have done without the Strategy Guide?'
Without it, he'd probably still be wandering aimlessly at the mansion's entrance. He felt grateful for its presence all over again.
'With this guy, nothing to panic about...'
"Please remove your earbuds."
"...Pardon?"
"Your earbuds."
They were small and unobtrusive on Yuseong, but apparently spotted while parting his hair to check its condition.
As Yuseong stammered, the stylist pointed to her own ear. She must've thought he hadn't heard properly because of them. But Yuseong had heard just fine.
'If I take them out, I won't get any advice?'
It couldn't transmit voice directly to his brain like in his old world.
But what choice did he have? Yuseong removed the earbuds and slipped them quietly into his pocket.
The stylist draped a white cape over him. Then she began cutting in earnest.
Strands of hair fell onto the cape one by one, reflected in the mirror. Yuseong watched with a strange sense of novelty.
Back home, he'd always cut his own hair when it got bothersome. It was never about styling or looks—not even a gram of that intent.
Having someone else cut your hair felt profoundly odd to begin with. In his ruined world, who would've done it?
The only others who'd ever cut his hair were faint memories of two people.
His parents.
"Your hair's in amazing condition."
The stylist's voice pulled Yuseong's reminiscing mind back to the present.
"Do you have any special care routine?"
Her tone brimmed with genuine awe. She often complimented clients' hair as lip service, but this was unexaggerated truth.
In her line of work, she'd handled countless heads, but this client's was hands-down the best.
No comparison to others. Elasticity, shine, softness—flawless.
He didn't seem the chatty type—most male clients weren't—so she'd planned to cut quietly. But the hair's quality demanded questions.
"Not really."
Yuseong barely cared about his hair itself, let alone care routines. That was his honest answer.
But the stylist got it from that alone.
'He doesn't do any maintenance.'
More than that—no interest at all.
'And yet this quality?'
She'd have begged for tips if there were any. But his response was straightforward.
Only one explanation.
'It's natural.'
Like those with baby-soft skin despite zero care. This had to be the same.
'Come to think of it, his skin's flawless too.'
No visible pores on the cheek beneath the hair. Poreless, spotless pallor that sparked envy.
'No way he skips skincare too?'
And still have skin like that? Something boiled inside. This wasn't her fault, surely.
Of course, she didn't ask about skin. Bugging a non-talker could annoy them; a rough type might snap.
Hair was fair game for a stylist, but skin? Off-limits.
Suppressing her urges, she kept cutting.
She finished the cut, shampooed, and did the final trims.
"All done."
Yuseong eyed his reflection. He ran a hand through it a few times. The unfamiliar style felt off.
"Not to your liking?"
"No, it's fine."
He had zero interest in hairstyles, so liking or not didn't factor in.
'It looks okay.'
Even to him, the sloppy image was gone.
He paid and left.
Once Yuseong was gone, the stylist immediately turned to her colleague.
"Wow, his hair was incredible. First time I've seen anything like it."
"That good?"
The colleague had overheard the praise. It hadn't seemed exaggerated, so she'd figured it was impressive.
But this level of gushing right after he left? Unexpected.
"Feel it yourself."
She scooped some fallen strands from the floor and handed them over.
"Wow, yeah, it is."
The texture was extraordinary. The colleague understood the fuss.
"Right? And get this—he says no special care. Makes sense?"
"Probably innate."
"The world's so unfair. His skin was gorgeous too. What genes let you skip maintenance and still look like that?"
"Innate or not, I bet he does some care."
The woman with the magazine chimed in.
She was the salon's only other client. The man who'd been cut first had left before Yuseong finished.
A regular, she was close with the stylists and chatted freely—which was why they could gossip about another customer in her presence, even if complimentary.
"He didn't say he skips care, did he? Just that he's not sure."
"Isn't that the same?"
"Maybe he hires a pro and pays them to handle it. Wouldn't know the details then."
That could fit.
"Or just bragging."
She shrugged and continued.
"Did you see his outfit? Head to toe, all luxury brands. Top-tier stuff, not mid-range."
A fashion enthusiast, she knew her labels.
"And I glimpsed his car—a Bentley. Total rich kid. Someone that loaded with perfect hair and skin? Definitely invests in care. Though if it wowed you this much, yeah, probably born with it too."
"I see."
"But why our salon?"
"Our salon's just fine!"
"Come on—for a Bentley-driving rich kid, we're a bit low-tier."
The stylist couldn't argue. It was upscale-ish, but still a neighborhood spot.
"Still jealous. Man, if only I'd been born rich..."
"Yeah."
The salon's little commotion ended there. To them, it was just a quirky encounter.
They had no clue. Far from a rich kid, Yuseong lived day-to-day not knowing if he'd survive tomorrow. His stellar hair and skin came courtesy of Nano Machines keeping his body in peak condition.
They—these natives of this world—were the ones Yuseong envied most.
They'd probably never know.