Chapter 27
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 27: Platonic Love
I am currently sitting on a park bench.
And in front of my eyes, a flock of little kids looking like kindergarteners to lower elementary schoolers are gathered.
"Waaaaaaah!!"
"Oppa! Mister! Shoot it over there!"
"Me too! I want to pop them too!"
The punks were jumping up and down towards the sky screaming.
What am I doing?
Whirrr—
In my hand is a dolphin-shaped electric bubble machine bought for 5,000 won at that Dollar Store that has everything. As I pulled the trigger, colorful soap bubbles poured out like a machine gun.
"......"
A sturdy adult male, in broad daylight at a park, staring blankly while shooting soap bubbles.
If someone sees, they might think I'm crazy or the neighborhood idiot brother... but who cares.
Nothing beats this for emptying the mind. Watching the bubbles float blankly feels like brain cells are resting.
'...What do I wear tomorrow.'
Tomorrow's worry floated up between the bubbles.
The long-awaited Freshman Orientation (OT).
Fashion? Don't know such crap. All I have are dull achromatic clothes.
Just wear the safest black slacks and gray hoodie maybe. If I dress up too much, feel like I'll be chewed out saying "Oh my, look at him. Putting in effort because he's a man lol", and if I dress too shabbily, feel like I'll be chewed out saying "As expected men don't know how to dress".
It's a checkmate, checkmate.
'Male to female ratio 1 to 9...'
Suddenly, ticklish anticipation rose in a corner of my heart.
By any chance. What if.
Among those numerous female students, isn't there a destined partner who will recognize this cynical charm of mine? Green light, is it possible?
Romance of college life. CC (Campus Couple). Romance of the campus.
But 3 seconds later, I shook my head and blew the bubble away whoosh.
'...Ah, annoying.'
Annoyance rushes in when actually thinking about going.
Conversing with women is burdensome.
Have to notice what they like, be careful not to make a slip of the tongue, reading that peculiar subtle atmosphere is too tiring. Rather go to PC cafe with guys and curse while gaming, hundred times more comfortable.
Someone might ask.
"Hey, you say dealing with women is burdensome, how did you smash that PC cafe elementary schooler's head with a toy hammer last time?"
That's different.
To my standards, those elementary schoolers? Are they women?
Just less grown humans and disobedient Jam-min-is (brats).
Beings not entering the category of my sexual objectification. So I can give advice without hesitation, and perform physical therapy if necessary. If I felt they were women seeing those blood clots (kids) and hesitated, that would be the crazier pedophile son of a b*tch.
Mom or sister is the same.
They are tied in the category called family. Before being women, they are my blood and family. So I can burp at the dinner table, fight, and treat them comfortably.
I am a normal person. Not a crazy bastard getting turned on by that.
The problem is other adult women.
Those unfamiliar gazes seeing me as a potential dating partner or prey make me freeze up.
"Mister! Bubbles ran out!"
Snapped to reality at a kid's shout. Only foam was bubbling from the dolphin snout.
"...Call me Oppa. Not Mister."
I took out refill solution from my pocket grumbling.
Yeah, tomorrow's me will take care of tomorrow. Today I should just play alley captain for these runny-nosed kids and go in. That's comfortable for the mind.
It was then.
A dark shadow cast over me.
"Excuse me."
Looking up, three or four female students wearing short school uniform skirts were looking down at me. Looking exactly like middle schoolers, or at best high school freshmen with youthful faces. But the eyes were beasts.
"Oppa, what are you doing here?"
The one standing in the middle, looking like she chews some gum (tough girl), asked standing crookedly.
I thrust the refilled dolphin bubble machine right in front of her nose.
"Shooting a gun."
"......?"
Their expressions became blank. A fully grown adult male holding a bubble machine seriously saying 'Shooting a gun' seems to have caused cognitive dissonance.
But they soon giggled and whispered among themselves.
"Hey, crazy. Isn't he f*cking cute?" "Must be a concept. Eccentric." "Forgiven because he's handsome."
...Don't know if it's a compliment or insult.
The one in the middle twisted her hair and brought up the main topic.
"Excuse me, Oppa. By any chance... can you give us your number?" "We aren't weird kids. Just want to be friends."
As expected. Teens of this world are fast. No hesitation.
I answered without 1 second of hesitation.
"I don't have a phone."
"......Yes?"
"Mom confiscated it. Said I don't study."
Their gazes turned to my pants pocket. The outline of a rectangular smartphone was revealed very clearly.
But I made the most aggrieved expression in the world and drove a wedge.
"Really. This is cigarettes."
"......"
A cigarette pack the size of a smartphone.
Nonsensical bullsh*t, but maybe my iron wall will looked so firm, they stepped back with fed-up expressions.
"Wow... Iron wall is dope." "Let's go, hey. Must be taken." "Waste..."
Watching their grumbling backs disappearing, I pulled the dolphin trigger.
Bubble fire.
Whirrr—
Colorful bubbles scattered into the air. When they completely disappeared from view, I took out the smartphone I insisted was a cigarette pack earlier from my pocket.
Turned on the screen.
[Text (50+)]
"...Going crazy, really."
Message window about to explode. Starting from gym members, flyer part-timer met earlier in the day, convenience store part-timer, even unknown numbers.
I leaned back on the bench and reviewed the situation coolly once again.
'Honestly, let's think again.'
Here the male to female ratio is 1 to 9.
Saw in some documentary or news in the past. Was it Russia? Even if the ratio collapses a little due to war, scarcity phenomenon happened where women bought flowers to woo men, and men sat still choosing women.
Even there society flipped at merely 1 to 1.1 or 1.2 level.
Here is 1 to 9.
Even by simple calculation, a structure where 9 women have to battle royale for 1 man.
'...Thinking again.'
These interests and favors pouring onto me right now.
Is this because I'm handsome? Charming? Good personality?
Bullsh*t.
This is just a result of a market economy where the law of supply and demand is shattered.
In the middle of a desert, even muddy water sells more expensive than Evian. Right now I am just a bottle of water dropped in the desert. Doesn't matter if the bottle is dented, lid open, or contents lukewarm.
Value skyrocketed just by existing.
"......"
Thinking like that, mood became strangely dirty.
not looking at the human 'Me' itself, but seemingly attacking seeing the scarcity hanging between my legs.
"As expected... all bubbles."
I laughed bitterly and turned off the screen.
When this bubble bursts, what remains is eventually only myself. If I get drunk on their favors and act giddy, obvious I'll cry facing the loser in the mirror later.
'Well, not like I'm crazy about sex.'
In the first place, I'm not a crazy guy who accepts saying "Thank you!" just because a woman approaches.
Suddenly, another memory grazing the brain.
Conversation with that fatty I was entangled with tirelessly, Bang Jae-hyuk.
"Hey, Jin-hyuk-ah."
Parasol in front of convenience store. Bang Jae-hyuk asked seriously sucking a tube ice cream (Jju-jju-ba).
"You aren't a bastard who would date instantly just because someone hunts (hits on) you."
"Of course."
I snorted.
"Not like I'm a crazy bastard crazy about women, would I accept just anyone? Historically I pursue Ja-Man-Chu (Natural Meeting Pursuit)."
"Bullsh*t."
"Really. Hey, honestly if I bang just anyone on the street and catch an STD what do I do?"
I said seriously.
"Uhyoooot─! Super unlucky-daze! I caught AIDS and got a super bumpy d*ck get-to-daze~!"
"......"
"If this sh*t happens will you take responsibility?"
Bang Jae-hyuk looked at me with a rotten expression.
"Ja-Man-Chu my ass... and r*tard, getting bumpy is Herpes. AIDS is immunodeficiency."
"Anyway! My precious place hurting is the same."
I shouted as if aggrieved.
"And you said it. Bastards hunting me are 100% North Korean spies or assassins sent by our Korean literature homeroom teacher Kim Bang-seok."
"When did I, r*tard. You probably made it up."
"No, definitely said it. Anyway I hate such light encounters, I say."
I pretended to be noble looking at a distant mountain.
"I mean that... not cheap love coveting only physical pleasure, but connecting souls... Platonic Sex? Anyway I want to do that."
"......"
Bang Jae-hyuk put down the ice cream he was eating.
"Platonic Love probably... right. Love without physical relationship. You just live alone for life. Phew, really you live well on your own."
The guy got up as if there was no value in conversing further.
"What, f*ck. Don't give up."
. . .
"......Kuh."
Thinking about it, really r*tarded.
Platonic Sex. Was saying something like Hot Iced Americano, me.
I got up from the bench and dusted my butt.
"Yeah. Since it came to this, let's keep my belief in this world too."
Not being swayed by bubble-like popularity, meeting someone who really recognizes me. Someone who can commune deeply with my soul.
Don't know when that will be though.
"Go, kids. Oppa is going."
"Goodbye, Mister!"
"Said Oppa."
Leaving behind the kids' send-off, I shoved the bubble machine into my pocket bitterly.