Pregnancy Attack! …Or Not?
Yeom Hana had chosen the DeathCode chat room as her counselor.
She felt like she'd go insane if she didn't vent these feelings to someone. But she had no one to confide in. The so-called friends she could call up weren't reliable enough for a serious talk—not even by her own standards. She had no family. In the end, the only place she could lean on was this haunt of nameless, anonymous ghosts.
The DeathCode chat room. Normally a spot for tossing memes and trading bullshit, but today she typed in earnestly.
The response was immediate.
Yeom Hana's fingers flew across the keyboard.
The moment she hit send, replies poured in like a waterfall.
Every single one stabbed at her heart. Goddamn community ghost bastards.
At that, Yeom Hana hesitated.
...Should I say it?
Confessing what she'd done felt embarrassing. But stewing alone wouldn't get her anywhere. In the end, she spilled it.
The moment she sent it, the chat scroll—that had been flooding like a waterfall—ground to a halt.
1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds.
A beat later.
The reactions were off the charts.
A torrent of criticism.
"Fuck..."
Yeom Hana yanked the blanket over her head.
She knew it. She'd fucked up.
But having strangers call her out like this made it hurt even more. No one around to give advice. Having to rely on anonymous internet randos for judgment.
That was her reality.
These guys in the room didn't know her real name, her face, where she lived. Just the FireOne nickname and that she played guitar. Leaning on that flimsy thread for life counseling? Pathetic.
While the off-topic idiot got crucified, Yeom Hana's mind went blank white.
What do I do?
If ajusshi was really pissed. If he'd blocked a girl like her because he couldn't stand the sight.
No more gukbap together. No more silly chats and pranks. No more being together.
Just imagining it turned her vision dark. Her trembling fingers pathetically tapped the screen.
After sending, Yeom Hana set her phone on her chest and closed her eyes.
Each second felt like a minute.
How much time passed? A ding jolted her eyes open.
The roasting stopped.
Instead, a different vibe started filling the chat.
Apologize. Yeah, she had to apologize. Properly. That was step one.
The chat froze again.
This time, for a different reason.
A few seconds later.
The AI recommender went down in flames.
Yeom Hana sniffled and opened her notes app.
Apology letter. What to write?
Ajusshi, sorry for the preg test prank last time. Too casual.
To Mr. Han Kang. I sincerely apologize. Too stiff.
She wrote and deleted, over and over. Too childish? Or too flippant? She tore at her hair after an eternity of this.
Ding. New notification.
Yeom Hana's fingers froze.
Venus. Usually lurks, but chimes in on romance stuff. Female user.
What after makeup? Obviously go back to how it was. Eat, hang out. Sometimes... sleep together.
Venus's words cut like a blade.
"...Huh?"
A dumb sound leaked from Yeom Hana's mouth.
Pseudo father-daughter. Lovers. Fuckbuddies.
The words stabbed her lungs like awls.
First... pseudo father-daughter? No way. Why turn ajusshi into daddy-daughter? She liked him, but not like that. A daughter who wants to fuck her dad? Sounds insane. Sure, the world's fucked, probably happens somewhere, but she hadn't sunk that low.
Next option.
...Lovers.
Girlfriend. She could brag, "This is my man." Glare at other bitches like Mine. Yell at him for no texts. Righteously.
That's what she wanted. Not tiptoeing on his favors, but equals who wanted each other.
Last, fuckbuddies. Same vibe as that crazy auntie's "free pussy" line.
But, but, what if—really what if. Ajusshi wants an educated woman, a rich one. Says he can't date someone like her.
Better than total strangers...
After agonizing, Yeom Hana decided.
Her face burned the second she hit send.
Venus's reply was straightforward. Too textbook, kinda annoying.
The quiet chat exploded again the instant she sent it.
The new handle LowAbility—judging by the timing and speech—was clearly LowIQ's alt. Not important.
While the ghosts bullshitted and giggled among themselves, Yeom Hana gnawed her lip.
That auntie. Just thinking about her ground her teeth.
But anger aside, she had to admit the spec gap objectively.
Yeom Hana: high school grad, unemployed, busking for pocket change, wannabe rocker.
All she had was a young body, guitar skills, and grit.
That woman? Peak adult with a real job. Details unknown, but unfair comparison anyway.
Tapping on her phone screen felt pathetic. Admitting defeat herself.
But.
Venus was laughing.
"...Huh?"
Yeom Hana froze, phone in hand.
For real... what?
Venus kept typing.
Her face burned like fire.
The word was too raw, but the idea too shocking—her brain couldn't keep up.
Get actually pregnant? With ajusshi's kid? Insane.
But.
...If I really got pregnant.
No matter how hotshot that crazy auntie was, could she beat a pregnant woman?
Ajusshi said he'd take responsibility. And he wasn't the type to back out.
Could a guy like that ditch the woman carrying his blood?
Imagination spiraled. Clear two lines on the test. Show ajusshi, say this time it's real. A bit later, a diamond-encrusted gold ring on her finger—
Her heart pounded like it would burst.
Crazy idea. Impossible.
So why was something hot surging in her chest?
Then the devil's whisper appeared on screen.
Blanket pulled to her chin, Yeom Hana stared holes into her phone.
Venus's messages kept coming. Very specific. Very practical strategies.