Miracles and Patriotism: Ulleungdo (2)
The car sped along Ulleungdo's coastal road—a full four lanes wide—and arrived at the destination in no time.
"Here we are."
"...Impressive."
The pension built on Ulleungdo had been crafted with the finest materials and top designers to satisfy the eyes of wealthy foreigners. Most were like that, and this one—directly contacted by Imae Mangnyang—had poured in massive resources, or so I'd heard.
It hadn't originally been tied to the organization. But I'd scoured the internet for pensions on Ulleungdo with natural hot springs, and once Chongsu came here to verify it herself, it became ours on the spot.
"The staff and housekeeper have no idea who you are, Manager. From now on, we'll treat you as a guest."
"You sure that's okay?"
"Of course. No boasting, but everyone who books here is loaded. No need to worry."
The only one who knew I was with Imae Mangnyang was the pension's manager, 'Manager Jang.'
"If it still feels awkward, we can introduce you to the housekeeper as a rep from the 'big investor' who funded the pension. Say you're here on a site inspection combined with some R&R as a company manager."
He'd already turned his well-run pension into a top-tier premium spot with help from Imae Mangnyang experts, remodeling it swiftly and operating at peak success among its peers.
'Not wrong there. I found this place online, and that's what made the organization decide to invest.'
I'd never seen it in person before—only photos from before it became an Imae Mangnyang property—so now I was face-to-face with what amounted to a ultra-luxury mansion masquerading as a pension.
"This... is really a pension?"
"Of course, sir."
No matter how I looked at it, it resembled some garden estate a rich Californian had plunked on a hillside. But if the manager himself called it a pension, what choice did I have but to believe him?
"Just call me on the phone or the in-room intercom if you need the manager. And this way is Sylvia. She'll handle any inconveniences right away."
"Hello, sir. I'm Sylvia."
"Whoa."
A tall blonde with striking blue eyes—like she was straight out of Northern Europe—greeted me dressed like a palace maid.
"What country are you from, by any chance?"
"I from, Norway, come."
"Sylvia. You don't need to do that."
"Is that so? I'm from Norway. Nice to meet you, sir."
Her slightly awkward Korean flipped to fluent in an instant. Sylvia shrugged like it was no big deal, and I half-thought she was mixed Korean.
"Some Korean guests like seeing white women speak Korean a bit clumsily. Hope you understand, sir."
"Ah, yeah..."
"On Ulleungdo, this is everyday life. Elite foreigners from abroad work here. Sylvia, remind me—which place did you used to work at...?"
"I was a hotelier at London K Hotel. It was a five-star property."
"No way."
The relentless barrage of national pride was starting to make my head spin.
"Isn't London K Hotel that place world leaders always visit?"
"You know it? Yes, that's the one. I worked there as a hotelier for ten years, then came to Korea to be a hotelier at Ulleung Island."
"No way..."
As Korea rose to greatness, the landscape of foreign labor had shifted accordingly. The so-called Third World? Wiped clean.
Farmhands picking apples like Bob, fishermen feeding mackerel to bluefin tuna like Saddam, factory loaders like Hassan—they all became James, Adam, Michael, Samuel.
Seats once filled with non-Koreans gradually filled with Europeans, their presence slowly whitening the foreigner ratio across the land.
Sylvia was the same.
"Ms. Sylvia, are you a superpower user?"
"Sadly, no. But I hope to give birth to one someday. Since the boss said to speak freely with you, I'll be casual."
Sylvia gazed westward with tired eyes.
"Save up big here, go home, marry my childhood friend, and make a pumpkin baby at this pension. That's the dream."
"......Why pumpkin?"
"Ulleungdo's famous for pumpkin taffy. Anyway, it'd be great to conceive here and deliver too. Best would be racking up seniority to go to Sejong Island... but foreigners like me can't even enter easily."
"......."
Was I too cooped up at home? Bingeing movies and anime kept me inside, or maybe it was living in Seoul, Korea's so-called slum.
"Only superpower users or their associates can enter Sejong Island. For regular folks like me, Ulleungdo's the limit."
"Aren't you quite the elite, Ms. Sylvia?"
"Thanks, but foreign women who aren't 'daughters-in-law' still face restrictions."
Seeing Neo-Busan and Neo-Ulleung—the pinnacles of national pride light novels—made my limbs twist and heart shrink.
"...Got it. I'll let you know if I need anything. Mind if I head to my room and rest?"
"Of course. I'll show you."
Under Sylvia's guidance, I entered the pension. A modern Hellenic fusion of exotic and Eastern styles, it could easily house six. Honestly, not even ten—exaggerating, twenty—would feel cramped. Multiple rooms, even an indoor pool villa in one suite. Back on my Earth's reality, booking something like this for a group would've cost over a million won, probably way more. And now I was using it 'free'—or rather, I charged it to the card first, and the company reimbursed. Same difference: I had this sprawling place to myself.
"Head hurts."
Here to relax on Ulleungdo for once, and my mind was more tangled from the national pride overload.
I knew it intellectually. But 'oh, cool' knowledge versus lived experience? Worlds apart.
"...Hah."
Dizzy. All I wanted was to soak in the hot springs ASAP.
Conveniently, one side of the pension had an open-air bath overlooking the scenery, steam rising gently.
"Ahh..."
This was the mana spring the protagonist discovers with his heroines during the Ulleungdo tour. Stripping down and slipping in, mana flooded my body instantly. Personally, I'd love to live here forever. I could just stay in this hot spring water...
"Hm?"
My phone rang. Someone I knew.
"Hello?"
[Ah, Jihwan-ssi. Can you talk?]
It was Snow White.