Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Myth's Solo Live (2)
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“Who were you on the phone with?”
Chilly.
Not an exaggeration—real killing intent rippled visibly in the air.
The corners of her mouth curved up, but Myth's dead eyes blinking away made her look no different from a ghost.
“With Sua. Map—”
“Heh.”
Thud.
Myth cut me off and took another step closer.
We were already pressed right up against each other, so she forced another step, naturally shoving my body back.
“I caught a faint voice leaking through your headset, so I wondered... but it's a girl, huh?”
She'd heard a voice faintly leaking from my headset all the way outside the door.
Myth. That's not even human territory anymore.
“What were you doing?”
Bang.
Myth's hand slammed onto my chest.
It was weird.
Just a hand—slender, pale, delicate—yet it carried this crushing pressure, like one wrong move and my heart would be ripped out.
Her nails weren't even raised, but it felt like sharp claws pricking my chest over and over.
Like standing before one of those gumiho fox spirits from the folktales I'd seen on TV as a kid.
I hurriedly opened my mouth.
No trembling, as casual as possible, like nothing was wrong.
“Nah, it was work-related.”
“Right.”
“Hey, you're not even listening to me.”
Myth didn't answer, just kept blinking.
She didn't seem human at all, sending chills down my spine.
It felt like facing one of those viral internet memes lately—the so-called Myth-shaped monstrosity.
Yeah.
This wasn't a situation words alone could defuse.
What you needed in times like this was proof.
I stretched out my arm, grabbed my phone, fired up Xcode, and showed her the screen.
“Here, look. Told you, we started the call for legit work stuff.”
Whoosh.
Myth's eyes scanned the screen at a terrifying speed.
Once she'd checked everything, she let out a long sigh of relief.
“What, that's all it was?”
“No clue what you misunderstood, but rest assured, nothing like that.”
“Ehh~. I trust you, Seol-i.”
She tossed out a line even the neighbor's dog wouldn't buy, striking a playful pose.
But I wasn't dumb enough to call out the lie right then.
I, Legend, at least had that much tact.
“Anyway, lunch time? I'll make it today.”
“Ooh, you can cook?”
Thankfully, she seemed over her suspicions.
Myth skipped off happily toward the kitchen.
Who knew Myth could cook.
Up till now, we'd only done delivery, so I'd figured she couldn't at all.
“Gotta be, with three years of solo living under my belt.”
“But you never cooked before.”
“Hehe... having money meant I kinda stopped. But delivery'd be late today thanks to my mix-up, so I'll whip something up quick.”
“Looking forward to it. What's on the menu?”
“Kimchi fried rice.”
Myth opened the fridge and pulled out a whole head of kimchi.
The fresh, vibrant red one from my mom hit the cutting board.
...Something's off.
Don't people usually snip kimchi out of the jar? But thinking about it, maybe other houses do it differently, so I let it slide.
I've only ever seen my family do it that way; others might have their own methods.
Thud.
The whole overripe head landed straight on the board.
No draining, so kimchi juice streamed down the board.
I went to grab some wet wipes to clean up, but Myth ignored it and opened a kitchen drawer to pull out a chef's knife.
The razor-sharp blade caught the ceiling light and gleamed.
“Seol-ah.”
And then.
Bang—.
With that sound, Myth brought the knife down on the kimchi.
The sharp blade dug slightly into the board as it cleanly halved the kimchi, a single drop of juice splattering onto my cheek.
I carefully brought my trembling hand up to wipe it off.
The blood-like sight left me speechless.
“You know, I really don't care what you do.”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
“But just one thing.”
Thud, thud.
Myth approached me.
I instinctively stepped back one foot at a time.
A bizarre setup: her one step forward, my one step back.
But how much room is there in a limited space like an apartment?
My back quickly hit the cold marble wall.
Myth looked up at me.
Her face, smeared with even more kimchi juice than mine, evoked an eerie vibe like bloodstains.
Darker emotions than the abyss swirled within those eyes.
“No cheating.”
A woman with kimchi juice all over her clothes stared up at me with dead eyes as she said it.
A strange feeling.
In a situation that should feel terrifying or repulsive, something else filled me instead.
Joy, cuteness, happiness.
I was thrilled that she wanted me this badly.
I looked down at Myth.
Myth looked up at me.
For a while, our gazes locked, and we confirmed each other's twitching lips.
Faces flushing, breaths quickening bit by bit, eyes trembling—yet our stares never wavered.
A moment later,
“Puhahat.”
“Ahaha!”
Laughter burst out simultaneously.
“Hey, don't make the acting so damn realistic. Nearly scared me to death.”
“When'd you catch on it was an act?”
“Talking in the room with a headset not even that loud—how the hell would you hear? Idiot.”
It was suspicious from the start that she'd pulled that off.
Chatting inside the room through a headset at low volume, and she hears it?
If that's possible, she's no human—she's a gumiho or some demon.
Myth smacked her forehead with her palm. Pang!
Her reactions were spot-on, like a pro streamer.
“Ack... Thought my ad-lib went over smooth. You saw through it, huh.”
“So what's the big scheme here?”
“Sua messaged me first this morning. Asked if it was okay to contact or call you to work on stuff.”
Why ask her—but remembering what went down at the company, it clicked.
Sua seemed kinda naive, but she's sharp.
The way Myth now called her Sua instead of Sua-ssi probably scored major points.
“So you cooked up this hidden camera bit from then?”
“Hehe, scheming's basic streamer skills.”
“Still, even for a skit, swinging that knife like that is dangerous.”
I meant it.
Sure, my hand wasn't on the table, and she only sliced kimchi—but she swung hard enough for the blade to stick slightly into the board.
If the blade snapped and flew off, it could've been a real injury.
Myth fidgeted with her fingers, at a loss for words.
“T-that... I got too into it without realizing.”
“Too into it?”
“Pulling out the kimchi, I got so immersed in the acting that I started seeing it as the face of the girl you were cheating with, and before I knew it—”
Embarrassed even after saying it, Myth bolted oodododo toward the kitchen.
I froze in place.
So, basically.
She got so deep into the role that she demolished the kimchi imagining it as the cheating girl?
...Definitely never cheat.
One slip, and I could end up as that kim/chi.
I carefully touched the kimchi splash on my face from earlier.
“Sit tight there then. I'll make you some tasty kimchi fried rice!”
“Yeah.”
Right, just don't cheat and we're good.
...But something feels off, like I'm missing a piece. Am I imagining it?
Some nagging unease lingered in the corner of my mind.
Anyway, Happy Pepero Day, Legend.
Someday, I wanna feed you handmade Pepero myself.
It didn't take long to figure out what that nagging feeling was.
“Ta-da~! Myth's special kimchi fried rice. Want me to go moe moe kyun too?”
“What's that?”
“Oh, it trended like two? Three years ago—”
Myth struck a proud pose, hands on hips, chest puffed out—but my eyes were fixed not on her, but on the unidentified monster she claimed was fried rice.
Screeech.
Holy shit.
The kimchi fried rice was screaming.
This was definitely home-stove fried rice—or hell, how were the rice grains and kimchi even boiling?
I carefully brought my chopsticks to the kimchi.
Then the impossible happened.
Cling.
The kimchi stuck to the chopsticks.
They hadn't even touched, but the kimchi shook and flew over, latching on.
Like N and S poles of a magnet snapping together—with a real cling! it stuck.
It was so ridiculous I burst out laughing.
So that's why alchemy existed in the Middle Ages.
Turning fire and kimchi into magnetic kimchi? Now that's alchemy.
This time, I carefully scooped a spoonful deep into the kimchi fried rice(?).
Thought it wouldn't go in, but surprisingly easy—then shocked.
Why won't it come out?
I poured all my arm strength to yank the spoon free.
The spoon was blackened.
Weird.
This wasn't silverware; just regular stainless steel.
Or maybe the metal itself was warning me it couldn't handle this and to run.
“Come on! Try it! Give me a taste review!”
Eh?
Did Myth's eyes not register the kimchi dangling limply from the chopsticks or the spoon turned pitch-black?
Or was the Sua call a lie, real betrayal fueling her to kill me with this thing too insulting to call 'cooking'?
Screw it.
All or nothing.
I steeled myself and swung the spoon again.
Pang! A metallic clang, and rice piled onto the spoon.
“G-gonna eat?”
“Yeah!”
I wanted to live, but ignoring Myth's sparkling eyes was its own ordeal.
Fine.
It's just food.
Fried rice made of fire, kimchi, rice, ground meat, veggies.
A bit burnt, but no way it'd kill me—
“Did you drink bleach or something? Can't even fathom how your stomach ended up like this.”
“Sorry...”
“No need for sorry—just be careful from now on. Wasn't life-threatening, but if it'd absorbed, you'd have been in stomach pain for a week.”
“Yes...”
“Hospital was close, so we pumped your stomach quick, and nothing seems absorbed. You're good to discharge. Finish the IV to make it worth the cost, then go.”
“Yes, thank you...”
The doctor left, and I lay there in the emergency room.
Beside me, Myth kept her face beet-red, head hung low.
“Myth.”
“Yes.”
“No cooking.”
“Yes.”
“Let's do better.”
“Yes.”
They say all the world's rules are written in blood.
One day in January.
My blood inscribed a rule between us.
Myth: cooking banned.
No—Myth + cooking: absolutely forbidden.
A rule that'd never fade in our lifetimes.