What Is the Special Devotion Talent Department?

What's the Special Devotion Talent Department?

"You— that… that, so what if you're that handsome?! Hup…!"

She cut herself off mid-sentence, hastily clapping both hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide as a rabbit's.

Well, well. So that's how fast she cracks.

Inside, she'd clearly been gearing up to spit venom—something along the lines of a convenience store part-timer at some no-name college, daring to talk back to me?—but thanks to the blind infatuation passive, something had apparently flipped over, and a completely different set of words had tumbled out of her mouth instead.

Even granting that she'd suddenly developed feelings for me, it still made no sense. Then again, this was a girl famous for speaking straight from her gut without ever routing anything through her brain. So maybe it did add up.

I gazed at her with an easy, unhurried smile.

"Oh, I know I'm handsome. Doesn't mean I'm free enough to serve meat onto your plate, though."

"Wh-what kind of bullshit is that—"

"Tough luck. If you want some, grill it yourself."

At my flat, decisive tone, Baek Nahee's pretty face flushed red like it might burst at any second.

Her mind was raging, denying the situation outright, while her body and instincts thrashed wildly, desperate to win favor with the man in front of her—a perfect collision of contradictions. Her big, round eyes trembled faintly with bewilderment, shame, and something she couldn't begin to control.

"You, you really… when did I ever—"

"What, wasn't it you who wanted to impress me, since we haven't seen each other in so long?"

"Ugh… uuuh…"

"Oh, right. Since we're on the subject—would you grill the meat for me? I think I'd like that better."

Baek Nahee, who'd been trembling at the lips and huffing indignantly, soon surrendered to whatever was churning inside her and began to move. Her slender white hand slid toward the tongs beside the grill and picked up a slice of pork belly, perfectly golden and glistening. Then she stole a glance at my face—

SLAP.

—and flung the pork belly straight onto my face.

"…Excuse me?"

"Hey, Kang Jinwoo. Having fun messing with me?"

"What?"

"Haven't seen you in ages and you looked half-decent, so I thought I'd humor you a little—and you go and cross the line?"

Just moments ago she'd been red-faced and stammering, and now Baek Nahee had snapped right back into the girl I'd always known.

What the hell? Was the overwhelming infatuation passive not working on her?

One second she'd looked ready to throw herself at me on the spot, and the next she'd come to her senses and was back to playing queen bee like always.

And then—

"Yeah, seriously. Nahee, let it go. Jinwoo's always been like that."

"Way to ruin the mood at a nice gathering, you loser."

"He seemed like such a nice guy, too. I don't get it. Ugh…"

Several of the guys promptly swarmed to Baek Nahee's side and started cursing me out.

Fine—them flocking to her and ganging up on me, I could understand. They'd been doing that since high school. What I couldn't understand was why the infatuation passive wasn't working on Baek Nahee.

This was the same passive that had Yuri—someone who used to be terrified of me—trying to offer herself to me point-blank, and had a complete stranger, that bathhouse goddess, falling so hard for me she gave me service I never even asked for.

Unless that heartless bitch was secretly a man… no, there was absolutely no way that was it.

I was thrown off balance, but I forced myself to stay calm and looked at Baek Nahee. She noticed my gaze, and her eyes suddenly wavered in confusion before she jerked her head away.

What's with that reaction? That's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different from earlier, too.

It was the textbook tsundere response I'd learned from years of games and other content—the aloof delinquent queen who'd suddenly fallen for you and kept sneaking glances while ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pretending not to care.

So why was that same Baek Nahee flinging pork belly at my face and running her mouth?

"Come on, Nahee, let it slide. Jinwoo's always been a piece of work."

"Right, right. Anyway, Nahee—you got into Saul University this year, didn't you?"

"Seriously? Holy crap, that's insane. Pretty AND smart? What are we supposed to do with you?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Unlike certain people, the world already knows my body's too good for some no-name college."

"That's our Nahee. Beautiful and brilliant."

"A jack-of-all-trades, truly. An ace at everything."

One of the boys who'd been wagging his tail at Baek Nahee's heels all through high school came swaggering over to our table with a beer raised high, and everyone latched onto the moment, the mood igniting all over again.

Thankfully, the attention on me seemed to have faded, and Baek Nahee, drunk on her own magnificence, was preening with her nose in the air, insufferably pleased with herself.

With that crushing weight of stares gone, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Even if I was the only one who knew this world was drowning in anomalies, I didn't have nerves of steel strong enough to shrug off a roomful of glares from old classmates.

"Ha… what a shitshow."

"Eh, what can you do. It's Baek Nahee…"

"True. Wait, she got into Saul University?"

"Yeah. You didn't hear?"

Saul University.

The most prestigious school in the country—and Baek Nahee had gotten in there?

A strong wave of disquiet washed over me. The Baek Nahee in my memory had spent all of high school obsessed with her looks and playing queen of the delinquents, a classic dead-end rebel who wanted absolutely nothing to do with studying. I distinctly remembered hearing secondhand, then thirdhand, that she'd bombed the college entrance exams and repeated them three times.

That dumbass got into Saul University?

"What department?"

"Okay, don't freak out when you hear this. She got into the Special Devotion Talent Department."

"The what?"

"Yeah. The Special Devotion Talent Department. You know, that department everyone says is nearly impossible to get into."

"That's… what, exactly?"

The Special Devotion Talent Department?

Since when did Saul University have something like that?

Granted, the world was full of bizarre majors, but I couldn't imagine an elite university like Saul hosting a department with a name that ridiculous.

What stunned me even more, though, was Mincheol's reaction to my question. He stared at me with an expression of pure disbelief, as if I'd just asked him what a literature degree was.

"Dude… do you even live in Korea?"

"I do, which is why I'm here, asshole."

"And you don't know the Special Devotion Department?"

"I don't. So what is it?"

"It's famous for insane employment rates, that's what. Even from a third-rate school, that department gets you jobs at decent massage parlors or big-city bathhouses."

"What…?"

"From Saul's department? Corporates probably recruit you straight out. I know a noona who graduated from there—landed a spot in the employee welfare division at one of those companies ending in -rex and supposedly pulls seven figures a year."

"What kind of…"

The moment those words left his mouth, a single thought flashed through my mind.

Graduating from any program gets you into massage parlors and bathhouses, and graduating from an elite program gets you into a major corporation's employee welfare division?

By the common sense I grew up with, those two sentences were gibberish. But applied through the altered common sense I'd recently learned about, they made perfect sense.

The fact that sexual labor was treated as ordinary labor—Altered Common Sense.

"So don't get cocky. From what I can tell, she's got some interest in you. Who knows, maybe if you grovel a little, she'll pick you."

"Even so, that's—"

"Enough, man. I'm full, you bastard. Anyway, eat up and get going. Honestly, with the way things are, it's better if you don't stick around."

At his words I glanced around and found Baek Nahee already working the crowd against me, the stares bearing down hot and heavy. Crazy bitch. Even with the passive working, that's how she comes out?

I threw on a thin smile, wolfed down what was left of the food, told the class president something urgent had come up, and slipped out of the reunion early.

What a dogshit night.

I'd probably learned something new, but getting steamrolled by Baek Nahee had left a rotten taste in my mouth. Looked like tonight I'd just knock back a drink and pass out.

And then, the next morning.

I woke with a skull-splitting hangover, rubbing my eyes as I reached for my phone. A message notification glowed on the screen.

Between having my energy thoroughly drained by that bathhouse goddess yesterday and surviving the reunion, my whole body felt like it weighed a ton. I rolled my stiff neck and tapped out a quick reply.

After sending the rejection, I braced myself for her to be hurt—her reply came back in under a minute.

She just accepts it? That gracefully?

So a class reunion really was carved into these people as something sacred—a duty on the level of a religious observance.

Convenient as hell, though. Great excuse material.

I fished a bottle of water from the fridge and gulped it down to chase off the last of my sleep. As the cold water slid down my throat and my head began to clear, Mincheol's words from the reunion came back to me.

Saul University's Special Devotion Talent Department…

The app had explained yesterday that under this altered common sense, sexual labor was treated as noble work—and that academic pedigree mattered just as much as the difference between a conglomerate and a small business. Which meant there was a high probability that this elite department Baek Nahee had entered was directly connected to all of it.

Leaning back against my headboard, I opened the browser and immediately searched for the department.

"Hmm… it does exist."

Honestly, I'd half expected it to be nonsense—but there it was. And befitting the nation's top university, a gleaming official website sat right at the top of the results. I tapped the department introduction menu. The screen turned, and beneath the stiff, formal greetings from the university president and the department head appeared a statement of the department's founding purpose and its ideal candidate profile. And as I read down through it, I very nearly sprayed my water all over the bed.

Up to that point, it read like the perfectly respectable introduction of a prestigious university program. But the paragraph that followed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made me doubt my own eyes.

"Wh-what the…?"

Stunned, I could only stare blankly at the screen for a long moment.