The Bean Sprout Diet
I am hungry. No, to be precise, I am not actually hungry. You might think that sounds like nonsense, but that is the only way to describe it. I eat lunch at the Academy, and perhaps because of that, I’ve been skipping breakfast and dinner almost entirely, yet I feel no hunger. It’s as if I could survive without even eating lunch. However, since I was the type of person who always made sure to eat three meals a day no matter how busy I was, I suppose I could call this a sort of "mental hunger."
I picked up today’s breakfast. I had cut a macaron into twenty pieces, ate one for dinner yesterday, and one for breakfast today, leaving eighteen pieces. Eighteen. It makes me so mad. According to reliable information from the CIA, the combat power of one high school girl is equivalent to two special forces soldiers, and three high school girls together can take on a tank. But I am not an ordinary high school girl. My combat power, having mastered the Goryeo style and possessing the ability to emit flames from my body, is at least equal to three high school girls. In other words, the calculation shows I can go toe-to-toe with a tank on my own. Don’t you think one-twentieth of a macaron is insufficient fuel for a tank?
I tossed the macaron fragment—which was closer to a crumb—into my mouth, savored the sweetness until it completely dissolved, then got dressed in my uniform and stepped out of the house, determined. I decided that I would have to go grocery shopping on my way home from school today.
When I arrived at school, the class representative, who had arrived early, was sweeping the classroom floor. As soon as I opened the door and walked in, she jumped in surprise again. I suppose the class representative is just a shy person. But unlike yesterday, I had no business to attend to in the faculty office, so I just sat down at my desk. Then, the class representative approached me timidly and greeted me.
“Oh, good morning?”
“Morning.”
I smiled and accepted her greeting because I found it admirable that she had greeted me first despite being so shy, and her face turned bright red. A shy class representative is cute, isn't she? With her face still flushed, she quietly swept the floor around me.
...Watching her work so hard at cleaning while I just sat there alone made me feel like I was doing something terribly wrong. I stood up, took a broom from the cleaning supply closet, and swept the floor with her. Had something good happened? The class representative was smiling slightly the entire time she cleaned.
Once we finished cleaning, students started trickling into the classroom as the start of the school day approached. For some reason, a few kids I had never even spoken to greeted me. What’s going on? Did the aura of a social outcast disappear because I became friends with Sylvia?
I thought to myself as I nodded appropriately to accept their greetings.
“Scarlet, good morning.”
I ignored Yoon Siwoo’s greeting.
It was history class. The history teacher looked like a battle-hardened veteran. He had a large scar across his face, both arms were prosthetics, and one of his legs was a prosthetic limb. Honestly, he looked more suited to teaching monster extermination than history. But unlike his appearance, he didn’t lecture in a booming voice. Instead, he taught in a quiet, calm tone, like a teacher who doesn't really care if students fall asleep in class as long as he gets through his lesson.
Academy-style history class trope: This is usually where all the world-building is explained. When I was reading it, I read the details carefully, but now that I was the one listening, it was incredibly boring. When the witches appeared, what happened, when the monsters appeared, what happened. It was clear that everyone else found the class just as boring, as their minds were clearly wandering elsewhere.
The teacher seemed to sense this, as he stopped the chalk he was using to write notes, sighed, and said, “I know. I know these classes are boring. Since history grades don't matter at all for becoming a hero, I’m sure you have no desire to listen. So, I won’t force you to focus on this class.”
Having said that, the teacher scanned the classroom for a moment and pointed to a male student in the front row.
“You there, do you know why the shield is the symbol of the Academy?”
“Ah, yes! I understand it to mean that we should be the first to step forward and fight.”
The teacher nodded at the answer.
“Correct. A shield only has meaning when it is at the front; it’s useless if it stays in the back. That’s why the teacher for the ‘Hero’s Mindset’ course probably taught you that you must step forward and fight like that shield. That teacher is still new to the position, so she’s full of passion. She’s the type of person who would fill the entire class time from the very first lesson.”
A few students let out a laugh. They must have been thinking of the passionate teacher who had filled the entire two-hour class time from the very first day. She was a cute female teacher who kept chanting, “Understood, everyone!” She was the complete opposite of this teacher in both appearance and atmosphere.
“Actually, I don’t think the reason for having a history course is much different from the Hero’s Mindset course. If you read the textbook in front of you, you’ll see many instances where someone’s noble sacrifice during a moment of extreme danger allowed us to be here today. Simply put, this history subject exists to make you think about that sacrifice.”
Coming from a teacher with prosthetic limbs, the word "sacrifice" carried a different kind of weight. Perhaps that was why the other students were listening intently to his words.
“There is only one thing I want you to learn in this class.”
The teacher paused for a moment before continuing.
“Don’t think of sacrifice as some grand, extraordinary act.”
As the students looked puzzled, the teacher continued.
“I don’t mean to disparage the hero seniors in the textbook. They clearly did something worthy of respect, and thanks to them, we are able to take classes in peace like this.”
The teacher picked up the textbook and opened it.
“But don’t think that they could act that way just because they were the great people in the textbook. They, and you, are all the same kind of heroes. If you want to be able to throw your body into danger without hesitation when the time comes, remember that sacrifice is not something extraordinary, but something natural. As long as you keep that in mind, I don’t care if you sleep or daydream during my class.”
The teacher said that and cleared his throat. “I’ve talked for too long. In any case, the Hero’s Mindset teacher will tell you plenty of this, so learn the rest from her. Let’s restart the lesson.”
The teacher resumed his lecture in his quiet, calm tone. Between the students who were now focusing on the lesson with different expressions than before, and the students who seemed to be pondering what the teacher had said, I thought to myself: Sylvia is still beautiful. Other than that, it was none of my business.
“Ah, I’d like some dessert.”
Sylvia, who had finished her meal, muttered that to herself. Just as a temple dog can recite poetry after three years, I could read Sylvia’s thoughts to some extent after three days of being her friend. That remark was purely because she genuinely wanted dessert. She didn't specifically order me to buy anything, but I couldn't miss this golden opportunity!
“I’ll go buy some macarons.”
I said that to Sylvia and dashed toward the school store with a movement that was almost a spinal reflex. A perfect movement with not even a fraction of a second of delay from the moment I stood up to the moment I ran to the store. Ah, have I finally grasped the ‘Ultimate Technique’ of friendship?
When I bought the macarons and returned to hand them to her, Sylvia accepted them with a slightly bewildered look.
“Oh, um... thank you?”
How about that? The feeling of having what you wanted delivered automatically without even ordering it! If I keep putting in the effort slowly like this, couldn't I become an indispensable friend to Sylvia, with her thinking, ‘Ugh, it’s too much trouble to walk to the store. I’ve become a body that can’t live without Scarlet!’? It was a truly devilish idea, even if I was the one who thought of it! It was the terrifyingly named ‘Sylvia Friend Corruption Training Plan.’ I was smirking while thinking such gloomy thoughts, and Yoon Siwoo and the class representative were staring at me. Hot! Did these guys notice?
I quickly hid the expression on my face, fearing my gloomy desires had been discovered. The expressions on both of their faces became subtle.
Dismissal time, the moment of the decisive battle. On my way back, I stopped by a discount mart near my house. I had to find something that could be called a meal with the remaining 7,000 gold. The meat section. No need to look. With the funds I had, meat was out of the question. It might feel good to buy and eat it, but that would be my last supper. Seafood? Obviously skipping that. They have less volume than meat and are more expensive, too. I breezed past the other food sections and arrived at the aisle with flour products. Naturally, if I thought normally, buying ramen or snacks known as ‘human feed’ would be higher in calories, but... strangely enough, I don’t feel like I’m lacking calories.
What I wanted was a mental sense of fullness, just the feeling that I was eating something. Just when I was about to look elsewhere, thinking this wasn't it, something caught my eye on a sign in the vegetable section.
[Lowest Price! 300 grams of bean sprouts for only 1,000 gold!]
In that moment, I felt something like destiny. This is it. Now, I couldn't even think of anything else. The storage period for bean sprouts before they go soft is about four days. In other words, what if I only ate bean sprouts for the remaining period until the next subsidy comes in? Surprisingly, it fit perfectly with exactly 7,000 gold! The number was so perfect, as if it had been planned from the start, that I even started to wonder if these bean sprouts were a provision left behind by someone for me.
Like a priest who had received a revelation, I was entranced as I picked up the bean sprouts, paid for them, and returned home. Once I arrived home, I stood in front of the gas stove. I filled a pot with water and put it on the stove. I turned on the gas, lit the flame, and waited for the water to boil. Once the water boiled, I would blanch the bean sprouts. I wanted to stir-fry them, but surprisingly, there were no ingredients to cook with. There wasn't even basic seasoning like salt or sugar, let alone cooking oil. Naturally, the refrigerator was empty, too. I should say there were no traces of a human having lived here. To live like this, one would have to be a VVIP of a delivery app or solve all meals outside, but my gut feeling was that wasn't the case, so I suspect I moved into this room right after I entered this body.
While I was thinking, the water boiled. I rinsed the bean sprouts once and tossed them into the pot. Normally, removing the roots would make the texture better, but in my current situation, even that part was too precious to throw away, so I just put them in. I didn't blanch them for long. I just blanched them slightly until they were just wilted. 300g of bean sprouts with the crunchy texture still intact. This was the precious food that would keep me going for the next four days. I set aside less than a tenth of it on a plate and put the rest in the refrigerator. I had to eat only a little today. Since I don't go to school on weekends, I have to solve all three meals at home, so I suppressed the desire to grab a handful, stuff it into my mouth, and enjoy the texture of the bean sprouts while crunching away, and instead picked up just one strand of bean sprout to eat.
I felt the fibers splitting as I chewed with my teeth. Chewing slowly for a long time, I felt a faint sweetness. I wish I could keep it in my mouth and chew it forever, but bean sprouts aren't gum. Feeling a sense of regret, I swallowed the remains of the bean sprouts that had been shattered by the chewing action and put another strand in my mouth. As I repeated that, the bean sprouts I had set aside were gone before I knew it. Perhaps because I chewed for a long time, I felt a sense of fullness. I picked up the one piece of macaron I had divided into twenty parts for dessert and put it in my mouth to cleanse my palate. Happiness flooded over me from the satisfying meal. This is the life.