Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: The Debt Witch (3)
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The tiny one-person desk was completely crammed just from laying out two king crabs.
The savory crab aroma wafting up from the fried rice, packed full of shells pre-sliced for easy meat picking and brimming back shells, was more than enough to fill the narrow attic room.
"D-Delicious...!"
"I only need one for myself, so take your time."
"Mmm!"
Sharon grabbed a fork in one hand and a crab leg in the other, eagerly scraping out the contents.
She seemed to be trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but her pace and rhythm were downright ravenous.
"How long has it been since I last had crab..."
Even with crab bits smeared all over her mouth, she didn't look the least bit unappealing.
The way she ate reminded Siwoo of how he'd devoured chicken when he first returned from Gehenna, so he held his tongue on pointing it out.
Her puffed cheeks, sparkling eyes, and mumbling lips all looked utterly adorable.
"What do you usually eat?"
"Me? Discarded stuff, mostly."
"Ah..."
Siwoo was a bit taken aback.
Many witches viewed sleep as unnecessary and skipped it entirely.
But he'd never seen one who skimped or skipped proper meals three times a day.
Gourmet pleasures were one of life's great joys, regardless of whether a witch needed separate nutrition intake.
Yet here she was, surviving on discarded bentos...
Thinking back, there hadn't been a fridge in her place.
How tough had her life been?
"I set aside one special meal day a week, but even that's hit or miss."
Her mood lifted as she ate, and she started spilling unasked details.
She funneled every bit of her under-200,000-won monthly food budget straight into debt repayment.
"They sell sweet-and-sour chicken in front of the history museum—it's amazing. I'll treat you next time as thanks."
Siwoo had tried it himself during his local food hunts.
Small for 3,000 won, medium for 6,000, large for 10,000—it was even featured on TV, a famous spot.
Her once-a-week splurge capped at 10,000 won...
Feeling the stingy poverty vibes, Siwoo quietly set down his crab leg.
I'll feed her plenty.
Then a sudden curiosity struck.
Something she'd mentioned offhand when they first met on the rooftop.
"So, you hunt homunculi to make money?"
"Ah, yeah."
"How? You mentioned location points or something."
Honestly, Siwoo couldn't quite picture it.
He knew homunculi dropped relics.
But Sharon had rummaged through a homunculus corpse that dropped nothing, pocketing a crystal.
To him, it had looked no different from a glass bead.
"Right, you said you didn't know anything."
"Yeah."
Sharon set down her crab, wiped her mouth with a tissue, and began explaining calmly.
"There are two main ways to make money hunting homunculi. You probably know the first: snag Creation Witch relics and sell 'em. That's the jackpot route. I'm gunning for it too."
"And the other?"
"Hand the homunculus crystal over to a location point."
Sharon pulled a crystal from her pocket and showed it to Siwoo.
"A homunculus crystal's value scales with the mana it held in life. It's the core that powered the monster."
"Like a soul stone?"
"Kinda. Anyway, the Gwanghwamun location point branch weighs it out—10,000 won per 0.1g. This one's worth about 1.3 million."
"Does the crystal have any magical properties?"
To Siwoo, it was just an ordinary orb of unknown material.
Not particularly pretty, couldn't store mana, nothing special.
"It does, but they're useless. Cheaper, easier alternatives exist—like glass, quartz, crystal."
Sharon said it flatly.
Then why buy these worthless pebbles for 1.3 million won?
"Explaining that takes a bit... Mind if I keep eating first? Don't wanna let it get cold."
"Oh, sure. Eat up. You drink?"
"Booze? Hell yeah!"
She had the cool, aloof runway-model vibe, yet lit up at the mere mention of drinks.
Pitiful? Endearing? Hard to say.
She seemed proud of scraping by honestly, making pity feel out of place.
"Alright, name your poison. I'll hit the convenience store."
"Come with. You're buying—can't send you alone."
"Just stepping out for a smoke anyway."
"Then black beer, brand doesn't matter."
"Got it."
He sat her back down and stepped out briefly.
By the time he returned with beer, Sharon had already unpacked a fresh crab on the table.
Siwoo sat and pretended to eat.
Just sitting idle might make her uncomfortable.
In the end, those massive king crabs vanished in just two hours.
Sharon beamed with happiness, swaying side to side.
She looked so content it warmed the onlooker's heart.
Like feeding a starving stray dog...
Of course, he'd never say that aloud—it'd be rude.
"Thanks, I ate like a queen. Haven't pigged out on something this pricey in ten years."
"Glad you enjoyed it."
"Didn't I hog it all?"
"Nah, I love eating with big eaters. Makes me feel full just watching."
They polished off the extra puddings as dessert and resumed chatting.
Strictly speaking, it was Sharon's lecture-slash-Q&A on scraping by in the modern world.
"Where were we?"
"Why location points buy homunculus crystals."
"Right. Gotta start with what location points are."
Sharon pulled out her phone—an ancient model, at least five years old.
Freebie from before Siwoo's Gehenna abduction.
She opened a map and pointed to a building near Gwanghwamun.
"This is Location Point. Duke Tiferet's outpost for homunculi and public enemy hunts, built a century ago. Seoul branch. Kinda a hub for exiles."
"As you can see, not all exiles are total wrecks. Sure, one's a bum, but anyway—they swap info and goods."
"Duke Tiferet?"
Her explanation continued.
After losing an apprentice witch to a public enemy, the duke—plunged in rage and grief—founded outposts worldwide.
The founder still wandered the mortal realm, hunting homunculi and enemies himself.
Siwoo's guess: "Location Point" tweaked "Watch Point."
"Aha..."
Through Sharon's rundown, it clicked.
Homunculi were disasters only for 'humans' without countermeasures—not witches.
A basic one-eyed homunculus dropping zilch? Kill it or ignore it, no sweat.
But having tasted loss, Duke Tiferet pioneered to prevent more victims.
"The duke offers bounties to encourage hunts?"
"Half right. Was at first, not anymore."
"Huh?"
"Ten years of bounties drained her fortune. Crystals pouring in from everywhere—even a rich noble bends eventually."
Then what funded the ongoing payouts?
"Noble witches now have hotlines with global elites. Humans dread beasts they can't handle, right?"
"So witches cut deals. Nations fund location points worldwide."
"My taxes went to that, huh..."
Exiles earned pocket money from useless crystals—win.
Nations offloaded unsolvable headaches for cash—win.
Thus, these disconnected groups formed a bizarre symbiosis.
"Why the convenience store gig then?"
"Duh, how else to make 1.4 billion from part-time work alone?"
"I meant, wouldn't pure homunculus hunting be better?"
1.3 million per? Beats minimum wage by 144 hours.
"Gotta recharge mana constantly, and homunculi aren't respawning RPG mobs in fixed spots. Need steady income."
"Fair enough."
Even that was bittersweet.
"Anyway, killer meal. Your place and my work are close—drop by anytime you're bored and curious."
"Will do."
Time was late.
Siwoo prepared to leave.
Sharon tidied roughly and stood.
"No need to see me out."
"Nah, heading out for work anyway."
She opened the wardrobe, pulling out a thick stack of flyers.
Siwoo fell silent, complex emotions churning.
"You do that too?"
"Witches don't need sleep, right? Word's out I'm thorough—100 won per flyer. Adds up nice."
Snapback on, sneakers laced, they hit the night streets again.
What a woman.
Most would despair under that debt, give up, or compromise.
Even if she magicked unfair gains, Siwoo couldn't judge.
Yet Sharon shunned shortcuts, earning honestly and proudly.
It stirred a poignant ache, like watching a girl head of household.
"Stick flyers up, scan for homunculi, hunt if spotted. Gotta search anyway."
"You're so upbeat."
"Hear that a lot."
Sharon taped a flyer to the wall with a grin.
Knowing it rude, Siwoo voiced what'd nagged him since the smoke break.
"Can I help?"
"Nah, it's my burden."
"Not flyers—I mean... the debt."
"Got a goldmine gig?"
Sharon perked up, ears twitching eagerly.
Sure, money schemes existed, but for that sum? Rare.
Siwoo had boatloads from Count Gemernai's gratitude—more than he'd spend in lifetimes.
Not hard-earned; helping her hustle seemed fine.
"No, I've got plenty spare. Cover interest or something..."
Regret hit fast.
Sharon's beer-blissed face hardened.
She clutched the flyers tight, eyes flashing displeasure.
Her lips twitched, but no words came.
Siwoo cringed.
"Sorry, didn't mean to offend."
"Yeah, really offended. Never say that again."
"Truly sorry."
Pure goodwill from him, but offense to her—who knew?
Maybe felt like condescending pity, bruising pride.
His clumsy offer was flat-out wrong.
But Sharon didn't lash out at his bowed apology.
She patted his shoulder instead.
"Water under the bridge. Everyone slips. I'm off—see ya."
Forgiving his rude "kindness" coolly, Sharon waved and vanished down an alley with her flyers.
"Haa..."
Watching her go, Siwoo felt a twinge of regret.