From Their Own Places (2): Even School Life in Korea is as Hellish as Adulthood
In Korea, school life is just as grueling as adulthood. From birth, class differences are set in stone; fierce academic competition stretches from morning till late night; and the college entrance exam decides the course of one's entire life—it's no exaggeration. People fondly recall the carefree days of childhood, running around without a worry in the world, but in truth, kids are the ones crushed daily under the weight of an inescapable future bearing down on them. In short, no generation on this hellish peninsula gets off easy.
Choi Jiyun—real name, nicknamed Gyeopsik—was a 19-year-old girl boasting a golden-ratio figure and a doll-like face despite her youth. To fend off the biting chill of midwinter winds, she threw on an oversized windbreaker jacket and stepped out into the night streets. Her master, teacher, and Yonghwa Seonnyeo was away on a business trip to Taebaek Mountain, and even the easygoing S-man oppa had headed down to the provinces for some errand. That left only Han Daeri, the one guy who treated her like a real human being—and ironically, he was the very reason she was alone tonight.
"If you're going to that reunion anyway, why not take me along?"
Even if a reigning Miss Korea or famous actress showed up, she was confident she could crush them in looks and youth. After stroking Han Daeri's male ego that way, she could've wheedled some pocket change out of him with various excuses. But as if he'd seen right through her, he'd gone to the reunion solo. She could've tailed him if she wanted, but that would've gotten her chased off with something like, "You're not even an adult yet." And she only had a few days left until she was.
"If I'd known it'd be like this, I should've made plans with school friends."
Strictly speaking, she didn't have any school friends, but at least none of her classmates would turn her away. She had a naturally approachable personality with everyone, and above all, she was the kind of person others couldn't help but love. They'd probably cherish the memory of her hanging out with them for life. But she didn't. She didn't want to wedge herself into normal groups and stir up their dynamics, and more than that, playing with classmates was just plain boring.
Their idea of fun topped out at karaoke, bowling alleys, PC bangs, board game cafes, escape rooms. Push it a bit, and maybe a ski trip or tourist spot. Now that the college entrance exam was over, they'd all be gallivanting like wild horses with the reins off. That's exactly why it was boring. She knew too well how classmates played, how they'd hype the mood, what boys and girls really wanted from group outings. It was all so predictable.
So she'd save that kind of fun for next year with the crew at the Supernatural Phenomena Resolution Office. Right now, killing her boredom was priority one. Gyeopsik melted into Seoul's night streets, buzzing with Christmas cheer right around the corner. Snow piled softly on the ground as countless people hurried along, each giving their all to life. Amid the throng, peering into their desires and thoughts like some omnipotent being, distinguishing human from nonhuman—it was a thrilling novelty.
The Great Whore of Babylon's power to be loved by all on earth and corrupt all on earth had waned, but in its place, her senses expanded day by day. Put simply, even with eyes closed, she felt something around her; focus on one spot, and the invisible came into view. Her teacher, Yonghwa Seonnyeo, called it the Yin Realm. The Yang Realm belonged to humans. The Yin Realm was for the dead, nonhumans, the world's underside. Yang and yin were one, in harmony—and that harmony shaped the world right.
But things of yang and yin couldn't mix, so even in the same world, they stayed divided. Gyeopsik belonged to yang as a human, but having once housed the Great Whore of Babylon, she existed in yin too. Not quite dual-natured like Count Asura, but the sole being in this harmonious yin-yang world with the right to roam both realms for free. That's why she watched the yang realm's bustling crowds while savoring the yin realm's wandering dead—like a connoisseur.
Why? "Because I can."
If she had to compare, it was like an astronomer peering through an ultra-expensive telescope at the night sky's stars for as long as she pleased. She could, she wanted to, she deserved to. Feeling a bit smug as she ogled realms no ordinary person could, she suddenly realized something had gathered thick around her.
"Animals?"
Pigeons common in the city, rodents that should be hibernating in the hills by now, stray cats, abandoned dogs. Circling her at a distance, they crouched low like they were before something to revere, big shiny eyes fixed on her.
"Ah."
The Great Whore of Babylon was said to ride beasts. Dragons in the sky, three-headed dogs, sea-walking monsters— all beasts bowed at her feet. Loved by humans, loyal from beasts. Humans fell enslaved to her allure; beasts submitted as limbs to her charisma.
Gyeopsik cautiously sat on a nearby bench. She gave subtle cues to blend the gathered beasts into the scenery—no direct commands or overt power, just cues. Pigeons fluttered to barren street trees; dogs and cats slunk under the bench; rodents scampered up trunks.
This time, she released a tiny trickle of the massive yin energy surging in her—just a drop in an ocean. Dogs and cats, once friendly to humans, twisted as their bones warped, bodies swelling, teeth and claws sharpening viciously. Dogs turned wolf, cats leopard—reclaiming lost wildness and instincts in seconds. Worried about startling passersby, she quickly reined it in, and they reverted.
"...If Boss or Teacher catch me, I'm dead."
Mastering her power more fluidly, innovatively was great, but getting busted by those two? Terrifying. Han Daeri and Yonghwa Seonnyeo were parental in their affection yet strictness—especially at corporal punishment, their one shared talent. Despite zero similarities otherwise, they synced perfectly when smacking her around with fans and rulers; she'd lost count of the hits.
If Han Daeri hadn't extracted that thing from her, if Yonghwa Seonnyeo hadn't taught her control, this night street would've looked far different. But it had worked out, so with that thought, Gyeopsik grew one pigeon eagle-huge. It soared silently into the night sky, relaying its aerial view back to her.
How many nonhumans lurked among humans, their purposes for being out here—she grasped it effortlessly.
"Time to clean the streets a bit."
With the boss at his reunion, Yonghwa Seonnyeo and S-man down south, she was all that remained. Streets that should brim with joy and hope were filthier, uglier than those she'd faced before. Even without Babylon's Great Whore descending, this metropolis might've rotted like Sodom and Gomorrah someday.
A pack tailed a staggering drunk, lost in year-end revelry. Not random thugs or pickpockets—their vile thoughts, foul intent, reek of blood made her pinch her nose from afar. She scattered power; a dog ballooned to massive wolf and bolted madly down the street.
Faster than most cars, it vaulted alleys and walls, pouncing the pack in seconds. Thugs hiding tasers and knives got shredded. Pamphlets tumbled from their pockets: end-times rants.
"Cults on the rise, huh."
They used to lure with pretty young recruiters' honey traps. Now? Kidnapping normals, torturing and brainwashing into fanatics. Like a dictatorship, zealots spied on each other, dodged law with brute force—civilians stood no chance. They targeted powerless small fry anyway.
"End times really are near."
With a bored expression, she scattered more yin energy. Just a whim to kill time, since Han Daeri wouldn't play with her.