Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: The Debt Witch (2)
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Even in the heart of Sinchon, things naturally quieted down once it passed 2 AM on a weekday night.
Puddles had formed across the cool night streets in the wake of a passing shower.
Sharon hopped lightly over them as she walked.
"Tell me about yourself too."
The conversation had started like that, but even after he'd only briefly laid out how he'd ended up here and why he could use magic, it had stretched on this long.
His life in the modern world before being captured by Gehenna.
His research into escape magic while living as a slave.
Saving Gemernai's apprentice witch.
Getting injured in the process, recovering, and acquiring the Stigma.
Living back in the modern world thanks to the grace of the Gemernai family.
He'd especially emphasized how grateful the count was to Siwoo and how close he was to the twins, figuring that would best guarantee his status and safety.
"Ah, I see how it is."
"Yeah."
But Sharon's reaction was utterly nonchalant.
No, it wasn't like he'd been expecting something over-the-top like, "Whoa! You succeeded in developing Self-Generating Magic as a slave?!" or "You're a crazy genius!" or—God forbid—"A man with a Stigma? I'm losing my mind over your value to magical research!"
Especially that last one. He wanted no part of it.
But this tepid response was like hearing that a ship capsizing in the Suez Canal had stalled Mediterranean shipping for a while. Hardly worth batting an eye.
Maybe he'd worried too much because he didn't know much about the modern world.
"You're taking it better than I expected."
"I am surprised?"
Sharon turned to Siwoo, her eyes widening into perfect circles.
In that moment, her fine hair fluttered, carrying a fresh, delightful fragrance.
It was a bit biased, but witches really were beautiful.
Bathed only in the glow from a 24-hour sticker photo booth, she looked like she was posing for a magazine shoot.
"Your reaction seemed pretty muted."
"Of course it's fascinating. But want to hear something even more amazing? I've paid off 1.3 billion won in the ten years I've been here, and the principal's down to 120 million."
"Ah..."
"And the real kicker? At this rate, it'll take me 3,227 years and eight months to pay off the principal and interest. Isn't that wild?"
He got the picture.
Curiosity about magic, dreams, passion—those were luxuries afforded by a comfortable life.
58 billion wasn't pocket change, and for Sharon, who was desperate to pay it off, Siwoo's story was just background noise. An extra, nothing more.
The witches around Gehenna—especially those near Siwoo—had all been wealthy great witches, so he'd assumed witches were free from money troubles.
Premature judgment on his part.
"Sorry if I made things awkward."
"No need to apologize... Actually, if you're sorry, buy me a meal."
"A meal?"
"Yeah. Drinks would be nice too."
That was easy enough.
In the over 100 days since arriving in the modern world, this was the longest conversation he'd had with anyone.
Ironic that Siwoo—who'd fled to the modern world hating Gehenna—would bond with a witch who wanted to go back.
There was a 24-hour McDonald's near Yonsei University, so he grabbed a plum chiller and a pear chiller.
She didn't seem like a bad witch, and with this rare chance for real communication, he wanted to chat more.
He could pick up tips on modern life from her, and maybe even get advice on his blocked magic. Best to play nice.
"Thanks. I'll enjoy it."
Sharon flashed a grin as she took the chiller from Siwoo.
Her face changed so much with her expression.
Who would've guessed the exhausted woman from the convenience store had this plucky, spirited personality?
"It's not much in return, but... mind if I ask you something?"
"Sure."
Sharon slurped at the chiller lovingly with one hand.
Should he have gotten an extra one, knowing she'd like it this much?
"What do you think the other exiled witches would do if they saw me?"
"Hmm... hard to say? Depends on the case. Some would care, some like me wouldn't, and some might try to gut you. But with Gemernai backing you? They wouldn't dare mess with you lightly."
"Hm..."
"Slurrrp... Anyway, what were you doing there? Sounds like you've been hiding from witches, but you wouldn't hang around a homunculus without knowing you'd run into one."
Sharon tilted her head curiously.
"I saw it kill someone. Couldn't just stand by."
The words had barely left his mouth when Sharon stared at him intently for a long moment.
Siwoo sipped his chiller, feeling awkwardly self-conscious.
Sharon said offhandedly,
"They kill a lot."
It had been a huge shock to Siwoo, but to her, it sounded like everyday routine. Matter-of-fact.
Of course. She'd known about it for years.
"How many?"
"No one knows exactly. It doesn't happen often. For small fries like the one today? Maybe one or two a year. The real problems are the ones with lots of 'eyes.'"
"Eyes?"
"You charged in without knowing that? Bolder than you look."
Sharon shrugged at Siwoo, who was clueless, as if he were hopeless.
"Homunculi have ranks. Usually measured by the number of visible eyes. One eye's the weakest; more eyes, the deadlier they get."
"Not just decoration, then."
Come to think of it, the black dog he'd fought here was way easier than the one in Latifundium.
Its attacks weren't varied, and it barely used any magic.
The one back then had three eyes, right?
"Right. Ones with lots of eyes are rare and hard to find. But instead of picking off humans one by one, they go big."
"How big?"
"Disasters happen. Massive fires in reality, plagues sweeping an area, buildings collapsing, natural calamities... Anyway, lots of people get hurt or die."
So homunculi weren't just guardians protecting legacies?
Why would they bring calamity like that? No clue.
Sharon seemed to read his expression and spoke up.
"Homunculi are created lifeforms. But ones created so long ago that they've outlived their purpose.
To sustain themselves, they have to kill witches and steal mana. That's how they've survived for millennia.
But here's the thing: compared to before, there are barely a tenth as many witches now. Food shortage?
So now, more of them kill humans to steal karma and life force to recharge..."
Sharon froze mid-sentence, in the middle of her shocking tale.
She was staring intently at something. Following her gaze, Siwoo saw her fixated on a steaming steamer, like she was entranced.
Her eyes were full of desperate longing, like reuniting with a lover presumed dead on deployment.
Siwoo might've teared up too if her half-open mouth—pooling with saliva—hadn't ruined the illusion.
"Want to eat?"
"Yeah! Uh, no?"
She nodded eagerly like it was a dumb question, then caught herself and played it cool.
Siwoo scratched his cheek and headed into the shop.
Seeing her drool like that, it tugged at his heartstrings.
She worked convenience store shifts to save every penny, and she'd barely scratched the principal—five halvings of it. Must be a tough life.
Besides, building rapport with her couldn't hurt. Ten years as an exile meant she had knowledge to share.
"Hey, I'm really fine."
"No, I want some. It's about time for a midnight snack anyway. Easier to talk while eating."
Worried pity might rub her wrong, Siwoo added a casual excuse and stepped inside.
Sharon hesitated, protesting it was fine, but followed right after.
"W-Well, if you say so... Not a bad idea."
"Yeah, I'll cover it. In exchange, tell me more about living here?"
"Sure, I'll fill you in good."
Siwoo's daily crustacean intake averaged three king crabs.
He'd scarfed thirty yesterday, so no wonder the owner recognized him.
"Hello."
"Hey! Kid! Back again!"
The owner, watching TV in the empty shop, lit up and rushed over.
"How many to pack today?"
"Ten of the biggest. Can we eat here?"
"Problem is, after midnight it's delivery packaging only..."
"...My place!"
Sharon blurted out the moment the owner demurred, then mumbled,
"We can take it packaged and eat at my place..."
Embarrassed by her outburst, her cheeks flushed cherry-red.
The owner and Siwoo blinked at her.
"Aw, thought she was foreign, but your girlfriend speaks Korean great! Got it! Hang on, kid. I'll pack 'em quick."
"Uh? Sure."
The balding ajusshi seemed to get the gist. He gave Siwoo a covert thumbs-up behind Sharon's back and dove into the tank.
"Make it good, kid!"
Some misunderstanding, but no need to correct it.
Soon Siwoo was holding bags stuffed with king crabs in both hands.
The bags rustled with every step, wafting savory crab aroma.
Sharon's pace quickened noticeably.
Just leisurely strolling before, now she marched like she was in a speed-walking contest.
Her long hair swayed side to side like a puppy's tail.
She must really love crab.
But how far are we going?
Over twenty minutes now, and no sign of stopping.
Sinchon's student one-room districts fell into three zones: the upscale officetel complex near Siwoo's place by Sinchon Station; the steep hillside rentals between Myeongmul Street and Ewha; and the bustling one where they were now.
Sharon finally turned into a mixed-use building with a big "YY Pub" on the first floor.
"Bit far. We're here."
After climbing stairs 1 through 5, they reached the rooftop penthouse.
"Come on in, don't be shy."
"...Then excuse me."
From the outside on the first floor, he'd pegged it as rundown, over twenty years old. No high hopes.
But Sharon's room shattered even those low expectations.
"Sorry, it's a mess."
Messy wasn't the real issue.
Sorry as he was for her, the room itself was the problem.
For a rooftop unit, it was tiny—barely 200 square feet.
A random pillar in the middle cramped the already tight space even more.
The bed doubled as a closet, clothes strewn everywhere. Yellowed wallpaper bulged from neglect.
And a protruding sink and gas stove on one wall...
He'd heard she was saddled with massive debt and struggling to pay it off, but this...
It screamed, "Yep, you're a debtor alright."
Any lingering wariness toward her evaporated.
Siwoo stood frozen in shock, and from right behind, he heard a gulp—like someone swallowing hard.
"So, when do we eat the king crab? Table's set."
Turning, he saw Sharon had unfolded a low desk and laid out plates, ready to go.