Where Should I Go? (2)

People's stares got on her nerves, but the food was delicious. Ta-in must have learned her lesson from last time, because she didn't make any outrageous requests like going shopping for clothes. Once back home, Elena changed the door lock password to ten digits to block Ta-in from sneaking into the second floor. She couldn't afford to get caught by the same trick twice. She got plenty of walking in after the meal and even built a stone tower on the way back.

Lying spread-eagled on the bare floor of her room—sans blanket—she pondered what to do next.

"So... what the hell should I really do?"

Let's rewind to six months ago. After Ta-in took her in and she moved into this house, Elena just wanted to earn enough to get by. She had no grand dreams of getting rich or anything like that. Ten years in the tower had obliterated any sense of ambition she might have had.

Freeloading would make her too dependent on Ta-in, and that would naturally lead to getting swept up in the woman's whims. So she aimed to pay modest rent and earn enough for instant ramen or canned goods without worrying about going hungry alone. She scoured for a company that would give her even a pittance of a steady paycheck.

She went to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every interview she could find. After all that hell in the tower, she didn't even get nervous in front of people anymore—it was a nice change. But there were caveats. Jobs with lots of travel, like delivery work, were out; someone might recognize her on the move. Nine out of ten applications got rejected at the paperwork stage because of her foreign-sounding name. And with the mask and hat she couldn't take off, plenty more bounced her at the interview.

After two weeks of that ass-kissing grind, she finally landed at the current delivery depot. No one there knew Ren was a Tuhon character, and they didn't bat an eye at a blonde, blue-eyed woman working there. If anything, it was paradise, full of ajusshis who got a kick out of her Korean.

They even suggested remote work, but she had no talents worth monetizing from home. Her only skill? Tuhon. In the end, it circled back to internet streaming. But this was right after that one disastrous Donemise stream that had wrecked her—not a chance in hell she'd pick that option then.

What about now? How did she feel about becoming a streamer or pro gamer these days? Unlike six months ago, her knee-jerk resistance had faded. Ten years of suffering, sure, but the last half-year in Korea had been way too sweet. Honestly, Tuhon was fucking fun. Smacking down cocky punks like Ppase was even better. And clashing with a world-conqueror like Mixer? Pure bliss.

But her one fatal flaw pushed every choice to extremes.

Her worst weakness, one she hadn't shown anyone since first meeting Ta-in.

Maybe it was a prank left by the great demon Astarte she'd summoned in the tower. It seemed harmless, but it was a vicious curse that forced social suicide. Without it, her outings would be twice as easy. Truth be told, Ta-in's suggestion today was tempting. Playing her favorite game, cracking jokes and laughing. Her ideal hobby. And according to Ta-in, she could do it without blowing her cover.

But would everyone buy her lies? Ta-in brushed it off, but Elena worried starting with Ppase, who tailed Ren-moms like a hawk.

First time she'd seen a landlady jimmy the window after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠changing the door code. Sure, eat well even if you're sick, but breaking in under the pretense of lunch delivery was too much. Elena got the good intentions, but it was always overkill.

She called in sick leave anyway and dragged her aching body to the depot. Not to work, but nowhere beat it for dodging the landlady rush. Her secret sanctuary. Her tiny, precious delivery depot.

One capsule Americano later, she sprawled in the office chair like it was a hammock, ready for a leisurely day. This was flexing. Her lavish vacation.

"Oh, Lena's here."

"...You little shit."

"My."

The trio returned from lunch, rushing over in surprise. But their eyes were all red-rimmed.

"Aigoo, what about your shoulder."

Ye-ju noona sighed at the bandage peeking from Elena's round-neck tee. The men behind her didn't say it, but their faces were grim too.

Jeomjang-nim grabbed her left shoulder with a bitter look. "I'd love to keep you on forever. But with that shoulder... no helping it now."

"...Pardon?"

Kim Joo-im placed a hand on her right shoulder ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠next. "Kid, that's why I told you to work just hard enough."

"...Huh???"

Ye-ju noona hugged her tight, voice cracking. "If I'd known, I'd have pushed harder sooner. Got you working with me before you got hurt like this..."

"No. No. No. No."

Clinging to Ye-ju noona, Elena yelled, "Why's this suddenly a farewell party?!"

Jeomjang-nim scratched his neck, eyes misty, broaching the tough topic. "Lena, quit this week."

Why? So out of nowhere. Had Ta-in called the staff? "Did... Ta-in call? Tell you to make me quit?"

"Ta-in...? Who's that?"

They all looked clueless. So what the hell? It'd been all laughs until the hospital trip. Why act like they could let her go so easily? Didn't they need her? Say the place wouldn't run without her?

Was it all bullshit? The trash-talking mid-shift, Slavic squats while cursing the world together. Sucking on candy beside the ajusshis' smokes, yapping away. Post-work soju bombs with Jeomjang-nim and Joo-im, belting karaoke, arm-in-arm dancing. Getting respect for her work felt so good. Especially since no one clocked her as Ren!

"Nah, you're joking, right? Hidden camera tricks don't work on me~."

They must've planned this surprise hearing she was out sick. "Hidden camera?"

"C'mon, it's a hidden camera~ You got caught, so cut it out. Why would I quit?"

She poked Jeomjang-nim's shoulder with a chuckle, but he gripped hers and bowed his head. Kim Joo-im patted him. "Thought it'd be one day, maybe a week. Half a year together was a miracle, kid. Aigoo, boss, man up. Don't snivel like this. Spill it already—Lena's freaking out."

First, calm herself. Whatever, they looked depressed as hell. Seemed like she had to quit no matter what. Time to crunch numbers. She wasn't broke—about four million won in the bank. Pay exceeded expectations, and the ajusshis covered most meals, so food costs were nil.

But she hadn't decided on a next gig yet. This sudden firing felt off. Jeomjang-nim wiped his eyes with Ye-ju's tissue, face flushed from holding back tears. "Glad we could talk now, at least."

He tried continuing but broke down again. Awkward silence stretched. "No, can't do it. I'll take the heat—Lena stays!"

He hugged her, sniffling. "Huh? No, what're you saying, hyung!"

"Can't just boot an clueless kid like this. I'll cover it all. Stay, yeah?"

Ye-ju noona, handing tissues, adjusted her glasses. Her usual soft gaze turned sharp on Jeomjang-nim. "Jeomjang-nim."

She shook her head. Something was up—Elena asked her. "What's going on? What're you taking responsibility for? Why do I have to quit? Tell me too."

Ye-ju noona bit her dry lip. She'd wanted to keep it from Elena. But she got that hiding it would just breed awkwardness. Finally, she spoke. "HQ's doing year-end audit soon. When you started, upper-half audit was done—no biggie."

Jeomjang-nim pulled away like charmed. "But I created a non-existent T/O slot for you... It's an issue. You didn't know, right?"

"...No."

"Hoped you wouldn't. We all loved having you comfy here."

Ah. They'd forced a spot for her. "Used corp card lots for your meals too. Budget's way over. HQ sisters say audit team's coming 'cause expenses blew past plan. If they show, you and boss... won't end well."

"......"

"Sorry for the sudden talk. Meant to earlier... but delayed."

She'd assumed standard contract. But Jeomjang-nim had risked his job to hire her. "Then why push accounting?"

"To pass you as my successor."

So that's how it linked. "Tell me sooner! Can't we fix it now...?"

Kim Joo-im sighed, rubbing his temple. "Too late. You're shit at math— one month wasn't enough. Audit team's no pushover; they'll check your work and skills."

"Then say that earlier!"

"Told you three months ago, punk."

"You said fire me if I don't learn!"

He scowled. "Saw you hated it. Think we're heartless enough to force it?"

That's why Jeomjang-nim was glad to talk now. They knew her stubborn ass. About two weeks till audit mid-December. Two weeks till shoulder healed. Caught between rock and hard place. Reality gave no time to decide.

She'd clung to staying; they couldn't interfere deep, just delayed. No one's fault. "Can I drop by after audit sometimes?"

Jeomjang-nim and Joo-im smiled sadly. "...Come whenever."

"Soju time. Yeah."

Sorry she couldn't protect her tiny, precious depot. "Aish, c'mon. Lighten up, everyone. It's not like I got nothing else."

Guess her depot days ended here. "Thanks for everything! See ya!"