The One Thing I Haven't Adapted To
Seo Taeho, the Director of the Management Bureau, hated reports.
Putting what happened in the field down on paper flattened the blood and sweat into cold print. When people died, it became "KIA." When an arm got blown off, it was just "injury." Seo Taeho despised that flatness. Field veterans who ended up behind desks usually turned out that way.
That said, Seo Taeho didn't completely ignore reports. He hated them, but he wasn't lazy.
Hunter Lee Seojin of the Special Division, Subject Contact Report (1st)
He'd already reviewed it. It was well-written. If you ignored the content.
Seo Taeho leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. A few lines from the report lingered in his mind.
"The calamity-grade entity fixated on the reporter for approximately 3 seconds before suspending hostile action."
Suspending. That was Lee Seojin's word choice. Not vanishing, not stopping—just suspending. A word implying it could resume at any moment. An A-rank hunter had picked that word after surviving three seconds in front of a calamity-grade.
"Upon the subject's absence, the calamity-grade entity charged at the reporter. Subsequently confirmed as contact (licking) rather than attack."
The corner of Seo Taeho's mouth twitched upward.
Licking.
A calamity-grade anomaly had licked an A-rank hunter. In his 27 years as a veteran—with an artificial knee joint in his left leg and two missing ribs on the right—this was a first.
And the final assessment.
"The subject appears to still not recognize the anomaly as an anomaly."
"Hahahaha."
Seo Taeho finally burst out laughing.
He laughed hard, shoulders shaking. If this weren't the director's office, it'd have been embarrassing.
As the laughter faded, his eyes hardened.
This report would go all the way up—to the president. He'd brief it verbally, explaining the details right there. A calamity-grade anomaly residing in a civilian's one-room apartment. The civilian sees it as a dog. And the calamity-grade licked an A-rank hunter.
He could already imagine the president's reaction.
Of course, a report was a report. Without specific directives, judgment rested with him for now. That was the director's discretion.
What to do?
Seo Taeho pulled a cigar from his suit's inner pocket. Just as he was about to light it up.
"Director."
It was his aide, Jin Soyul.
"Cigars are bad for you. Especially secondhand smoke."
Seo Taeho eyed her with the cigar still in his mouth. Her gaze was firm. She stood ramrod straight, files clutched to her chest without a hint of slouch.
"This is my office."
"But I'm here, so it's secondhand smoke."
"Then leave."
"I need your instructions, so I can't."
Seo Taeho took the cigar out. He couldn't win against this woman. Three years and counting.
"Relay to Hunter Lee Seojin: Maintain observation. Continue close surveillance and trust-building. Deploy backup if the subject goes out with the anomaly. Keep existing engagement protocols."
"Understood."
Jin Soyul didn't even write it down. She memorized it on one listen.
"And."
Seo Taeho added,
"Tell her absolutely do not touch them. Neither the subject nor the anomaly. If things go sideways, just report it. I'll make the call."
Jin Soyul nodded and turned. She left without a backward glance.
The door closed.
Seo Taeho muttered to himself.
"Green tea, huh."
It was mentioned somewhere in the report. The subject had tried to serve green tea to an A-rank hunter. In a 7-pyong one-room with a calamity-grade anomaly sprawled at her feet.
He suddenly wanted to try it sometime.
Seo Taeho put the cigar back in his mouth. He patted his suit pocket.
No lighter.
Pants pocket. Nope. Desk drawer. Empty.
He glanced at the door where Jin Soyul had exited.
"...Good grief."
Ten days since becoming a woman.
I'd adapted to most things. The higher voice, the shorter height, the stranger in the mirror. Humanity's adaptability is incredible. Or maybe I'm just dense.
Anyway, I'd adapted.
Except for one thing.
My underwear didn't fit.
I'd left the hospital in the clothes I was wearing—everything I had. Outerwear was fine, but underwear was the problem. I'd been making do with my old guy running shorts, but honestly, I'd hit my limit.
It was uncomfortable. I don't want to get into specifics. As a guy, I hadn't even known this discomfort existed. Ignorance really is bliss sometimes.
I went to the mart. There was a women's section.
Pads lined the shelves. At a glance, twenty types at least. Large, medium, small. With wings, without. Nighttime, daytime, panty liners. And slim versions of everything.
What the hell?
I hadn't gotten my period yet. Would it come? Probably, right? If this body was biologically female. Should've asked the doctor. "Doc, do I get periods?" To a male doctor?
...Just thinking about it is horrifying.
I tried a lingerie store too. Bailed after five minutes. No clue on sizing. I knew about cups—A, B, C, D. Letters, sure, but which one was I? No idea what "under" meant either. And each brand fits different?
Guy boxers are just S, M, L. The world is so unfair.
Back home, I picked up my phone and put it down three times.
...Should I call Lee Seojin?
She's a Management Bureau hunter. Handles support for awakening accident victims. Left her number, said "call for anything inconvenient."
Anything. Does that include bra sizes?
Probably not. Common sense says no.
But she's the only woman I know.
Technically, she's not just an acquaintance—she's my assigned handler. Asking a government employee for underwear advice? Feels like it crosses into complaint territory.
I picked up the phone. Put it down. Heukgu looked up at me with his "what's wrong?" eyes.
"...You don't have these problems, huh."
His tail wagged gently. Adorable. But his tail wasn't solving anything here.
Kong-i was on my lap, staring at the tablet. Or rather, a video was playing—whether she was watching or spacing out, who knows. Her vocabulary had improved lately; yesterday she said, "I'm hungry," as a full sentence.
"Kong-i."
She looked up.
"Sis has to make an embarrassing call. Don't listen."
She tilted her head. Probably didn't get it. Good.
I dialed.
Ringing. Once, twice, three times.
...Part of me hoped she wouldn't pick up. Part hoped she would.
Four times.
Click.
Management Bureau office.
Lee Seojin's phone rang.
The name on the screen.
Ha Yujin.
Her hand froze.
Since initiating contact, Lee Seojin had always called first. Subsidy paperwork, temporary ID follow-up, health check schedule. All bureau-led outreach.
But the subject was calling first.
Lee Seojin scanned the office. Two supervising officers were present. One looked up at her gaze.
"Contact from the subject."
The officer's hand stopped. He set down his pen.
"First?"
"Yes."
The two officers exchanged glances. A split-second look, but loaded with meaning.
"Answer it. Enable call sharing."
Lee Seojin activated call sharing. The ringtone echoed through the office speakers.
The officers straightened up. One grabbed a pen. Ready to record.
Lee Seojin hit accept.
"Yes, Yujin."
Her usual tone. The friendly handler's voice. Ten years of polished expression control, vocal edition.
The speaker carried the girl's thin voice.
"Oh, Lee Seojin. Hi. This is Ha Yujin."
"Hi there."
"Um... it's kind of embarrassing."
The office air tensed subtly. The officer's pen halted. The other sat up straighter.
Embarrassing.
Broad possibilities. Ability-related anomalies. Further physical mutations. Anomaly behavior changes. Or worse.
"Yes, go ahead."
Lee Seojin's voice didn't waver.
"Well... I need to buy underwear."
"......"
"......"
"I don't know my size. Bra... you know, cups and under? I get what they are, but not which one I am. I was a guy originally, so of course I don't know. They say you need measuring, but alone it's kinda..."
Lee Seojin replied. Immediate.
"Store staff will measure you. Many brand stores do it free."
"Oh, really... But that's embarrassing. Showing my chest to someone. Wait, not a guy—staff, so maybe okay?"
The officer with the pen slowly set it down. Then removed his glasses to clean them. He did that when flustered. Lee Seojin knew.
The other officer stared blankly at his monitor. Nothing was on it.
"Staff are professionals—they'll make it comfortable. Done in the fitting room."
"Ah... But I think I need pads too. No period yet, but it might come? What kind do you use, Lee Seojin?"
"......"
Lee Seojin's expression flickered faintly. A different shock from facing a calamity-grade.
"...My personal preference might not help, but for first-timers, standard medium winged is safe."
"Medium winged. Got it..."
Sound of scribbling.
"Day and night are different, right?"
"Yes. Night ones are longer, higher absorbency."
"Ahh, length differs. Hey, Lee Seojin, what's a panty liner? Different from pads?"
The glasses-cleaning sped up.
Lee Seojin explained. Calmly. Panty liner purpose, thickness, differences from regular pads. A pro hunter's delivery.
"Thanks, Lee Seojin. Really helpful. Oh, right—if you're free, could you come by? Something missing from the subsidy papers."
"...Yes, I'll visit tomorrow afternoon."
"Thanks~"
Call ended.
Office fell silent.
Lee Seojin disabled sharing.
The officer put his glasses back on. Lenses gleamed spotless.
"...What do we put in the report?"
Lee Seojin asked. Genuinely curious.
The officer thought briefly.
"Lifestyle-close support activities for trust-building with the subject."
Clean, clerical phrasing. Miles from the reality.