5. Heading Home
“Huh? Samgyeopsal? Me too!”
“Samgyeopsal hits the spot!”
“Whoa, company dinner!”
“Count me in! I'm in!”
Irezumi, the high schooler, Anchovy, and Park Gun—all of them sneaking glances at Lee Jua—jumped in like they couldn't miss the chance. They hadn't mustered the guts to straight-up ask her to grab a bite together, but with the older guys taking the lead, it was a man's duty not to back out now.
“Whoa, whoa? This is getting a big group though?”
“You lot can pay for your own damn food!”
“Jeez, you bastards always blew off my invites to eat before!”
They grumbled like that, but the older guys looked thrilled. In the end, the whole crew piled into a samgyeopsal joint near the Daejeon Hub.
It was a 24-hour spot, and even at the awkward hour of 6:30 a.m., it was surprisingly packed. Of course, Jua's group was the biggest by far.
“Alright... let's seat the young ones together.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
The older guys started playing traffic cop, sorting the group. Kim Team Leader naturally drifted toward Jua's side but got nabbed by the others.
“Hey, Kim Team Leader, over here with us.”
“Yeah, you're one of us in the middle, not over there with the dentures.”
“Man, what dentures? We call it ttuldak at times like this.”
“Ttuldak? What's that? Denture stickers?”
“Haha~ Kid doesn't even know ttuldak? Means the dentures fit just right!”
“...No way that makes sense.”
Sizzle— Frozen pork belly strips browned beautifully on the grill. Grease popped and smoke rose, but there was no better aroma in the world.
Jua gripped her chopsticks, eyes locked on the grill like a predator ready to snag the meat the second it cooked. Back in her Lee Jinsu days, she'd wonder if she should let it cook a bit more—only for about 300 grams of samgyeopsal to vanish into someone else's gut. Crispy pork belly was a luxury. The motto was: cooked? Straight to mouth.
Sometimes guys scarfed it half-raw, but Jinsu never went that far. But before Jua could even stretch out her chopsticks...
Park Gun's flew in from the side. No beating a starving early-20s guy's speed. She targeted the next piece, but Irezumi snatched it. The one beside it? High schooler. Next? Anchovy.
In a blink, four pieces were swiped almost simultaneously. Jua stared blankly at the grill.
“Here, Jua, have some.”
Park Gun piled meat on her side plate. And that wasn't all.
“Sis, you like ssam mu?”
The high schooler wrapped meat in pickled radish and set it on her plate.
“Nothing you can't eat, right, Jua?”
Anchovy straight-up started making wraps for her.
“The green onion wraps are the best here.”
Irezumi portioned out pork wrapped in chives.
Just like that, Jua's side plate overflowed.
“...Um, aren't you guys gonna eat?”
Flabbergasted, Jua asked. They all smiled back in unison.
“Nah, samgyeopsal's our daily bread.”
“You've worked hard, Jua. Dig in.”
“We'll eat after serving you.”
But I didn't work hard at all...
Her conscience twinged a bit, but Jua picked up her chopsticks. The four watched eagerly, wondering which one's she'd pick first.
But Jua turned to the older guys at the next table.
“Uncles, ours cooked up faster. Have some.”
“Oh? Pretty face and a pretty heart.”
“Eat up, eat first—we'll sip soju and wait.”
“Good girl, good girl. You punks, learn from her.”
Her grabbing speed was the slowest, yet her plate stayed full. She'd just passed the first-cooked meat to the elders as any decent person would, but the praise poured in. Hell, she'd barely set the tableware when they started the compliment barrage.
...Ugh, what the hell is this.
Jua vaguely remembered some post online: A dog gets praised just for not shitting indoors, nags its parents about it, and then everything it does gets praise, driving it nuts. Felt exactly like that had hit her life.
At this rate, if she just went to the bathroom alone...
'Whoa, you pulled off that tough feat!'
'Truly amazing... I couldn't go solo.'
'So cool—gotta be this level to work logistics alone.'
She got anxious imagining the praise.
“Jua, you drink at all?”
Park Gun subtly lifted a soju bottle. Back as Jinsu, her limit was eight bottles—enough to floor the whole construction crew. To answer Park Gun's question, Jua just held out her glass.
He laughed heartily and filled it.
“Everyone worked hard today!”
Glasses clinked crisply. Jua tossed the soju back in one go. She felt the alcohol burn down her throat to her stomach.
“Ahh—!”
Wiping her mouth and slamming the glass down, the guys' eyes curved into smiles. She got why they used female celebs for soju ads.
Meat dwindled, soju bottles piled up, and the vibe warmed.
“So yeah, back in the day, I was a legend in construction.”
“Aigoo, Hwang's at it again—my ears are bleeding.”
Sweaty guys' tall tales and gripes. Maybe the closest, most normal slice of Jua's old life. Sure, her body's female now, and everyone's treating her like a princess, slathering on kindness till hives might break out.
But this moment? Felt like the old days. Her heart eased oddly.
“Brothers, last round!”
“Yeah, gotta work later—stop here.”
They drained the final shots and stood. Clock hit 8 a.m. Sunlight flooded the streets. Booze lightened her steps.
“Jua! Come tomorrow, day after—every day!”
Irezumi and Park Gun waved big, hailing a cab. Just yesterday they said don't overwork here. Jua smirked back and waved.
“Get home safe, everyone.”
She patted the envelope in her pocket to check it, then hurried off.
First, gear. On the way home, she detoured to the local big mart. Broke as hell—no fancy stuff. She prowled the electronics aisle, glaring at price tags.
Finally snagged a 29,000-won mic. No cam streaming anyway—mic's all she needed.
And... a 1.5-liter cola.
“Perfect.”
Home sweet home—she flung off the hoodie reeking of meat and sweat. Peeled the black tee. Unhooked the bra.
“Fuck, now I can breathe.”
The bra that'd squeezed her chest all outing hit the floor. No-bra freedom was this sweet. Like a shackled slave tasting liberation.
She grabbed a loose gray short-sleeve tee, baggy training pants with knee patches. Fresh undies too.
“...Shower. Yeah, gotta wash up.”
Jinsu's shower routine was clockwork. Flex those broad shoulders with a grin. Fists on hips, flare the lats. Crunch the abs hard, admire the cuts.
'Damn, Jinsu's still got it.' Pure self-high.
Half a guy's shower? Mirror flex-off. No exaggeration.
But the mirror now showed... skin pale near-translucent. Waist smooth, no fat. And that dominating up top.
“...”
Her face flushed hot. My body, but not mine. Like peeping on a strange woman showering.
Averted eyes, twisted the faucet quick. Water soon cascaded over her scalp.
But the second it hit...
“...Head's so damn heavy.”
Jinsu's hair was always short. Soap up, scrub head to toe—done. 30 seconds hair, one minute body.
But this long mess? Water-soaked, it crushed her neck like lead.
Squeeze three times? Shampoo squeeze, lather—no end in sight. Pumped two more for foam bomb.
Now she got why girls take forever washing. Time to scrub my whole body as a guy, and hair alone's a battle...
Rinsed roughly, soaped a towel for the body rub. Normally bare hands, slap it on. But no way she'd touch this body direct.
Swish—
“Eut...”
Wiping arms, lifting for pits and chest... a weird noise slipped out.
Insanity. She dulled her eyes, held breath, scrubbed on.
Finally, the grand finale. Lower half.
“...Haa.”
The spot where Mighty Big Dick Johnson Alexander III greeted her every morning? Spotless void.
Knew it from yesterday, but stone-cold nude confrontation hit different. Loss crushed her.
Sadness, grief, despair, defeat. Then resignation swept her mind.
Under the pouring shower, she shed the past. Accepted the now.