Top-Tier Among NEETs

Among freeloaders, I was upper class.

There was a celebrity in the Returnee Gallery that everyone knew.

The longest-standing member. The one who sponsored without spending a single coin.

The person who created the Gospel and saved countless lives of those who had fallen into other worlds.

An eccentric whose true identity no one could pin down.

"But what is this worm-looking thing supposed to mean?"

The posts pinned at the top of the gallery weren't written in letters — they were covered in what looked like crude hand-drawn pictures.

A language one Korean had painstakingly figured out through research.

It was so bad it could be mistaken for an ancient script, and the translator had complained bitterly about how hard it was — but somehow, they managed to decipher it.

What they produced was named after the interpreter himself: Lethe's Gospel.

It became a code of conduct that had saved their lives more times than anyone could count.

With only a handful of exceptions, returnees could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠access the gallery from the moment they awakened. The key point was that it worked even in other worlds — long before they ever returned to Earth.

And at the very top of that gallery, a translated version of those drawings sat permanently pinned. As if to say: if you ever find this, you must read it.

It went like this:

No matter how far you scrolled, the end never came into view.

"And who the hell is Eunae?"

The voice quietly closing the translation belonged to Kim Seon-hwa, President of the Korean Hunter Association. She pressed her fingers hard against her temples as if nursing a splitting headache.

"…Looking at the original, it does seem to be Korean, but is the author even Korean?"

"I'm not entirely sure either…"

"No, how does a Korean person write letters like this?! Even a three-year-old wouldn't write this badly!"

She wasn't wrong. The original manuscript they'd managed to obtain was pure gibberish — the Korean who had successfully interpreted it deserved a medal of honor.

"What about the Korean who did the translation?"

At her question, her subordinate flipped through a list and answered evenly.

"They're not on the returnee registry, so they most likely died before returning."

Every report she received only made her sigh harder.

"I was wondering why so many returnees have been immigrating to Korea over the past few years. So this was the reason."

Thanks to that, the authorities had declared states of emergency more times than she could count…

It was a good thing for the nation as a whole, but for civil servants like them, it was pure hell.

"A community where only they can talk to each other… It's terrifying."

Objectively speaking, conversations with returnees — people whose entire way of thinking had been reshaped by other worlds — were never easy. Their existence had only become public knowledge a mere five years ago.

"At least, thanks to the owner of that writing, they're relatively humanity-friendly. Small mercies."

The way people treated returnees like some kind of aliens was identical to how modern society viewed them.

Her subordinate wiped cold sweat from his brow and voiced the question on everyone's mind.

"Just who are they, that even those free-spirited maniacs don't dare step out of line?"

She gazed out the window at a Korea that had achieved staggering development, and answered.

"I don't know."

Since the appearance of Babel, Korea had shown the highest growth rate of any nation on Earth. And beneath that ranking sat a figure no other country could even begin to imitate.

Most countries saw mortality rates approaching fifty percent. Korea, from a certain point onward, barely produced any deaths at all.

There was someone in Korea that returnees actively sought out. Who could look at these numbers and not find them strange?

The Association President stared at the translation with a hardened expression and finally spoke.

"If I had to make a judgment… either an absolute monster, or an extraordinary saint."

Perhaps both.

Either way, they were definitely not a normal human being.

"Achoo!"

Is someone talking about me?

I had eventually given up and bailed out of the Heavenly Demon's stream, unable to endure yesterday's atmosphere any longer.

And this morning, the gallery was buzzing with news that the Heavenly Demon had cleared the 97th floor.

I wanted to leave a congratulatory comment, but I held back — afraid of causing another uproar.

For reference, in the gallery I was known as the Sponsor.

People weren't allowed to talk about me freely.

There was this one time.

Someone — I still don't know who — went live and told everyone to stop talking about me. I'd been too busy raising my little sister at the time to catch that broadcast.

Just how kind of a person do you have to be to protect someone who free-donates without even spending money?

Or maybe they just found me annoying.

Lately I'd been feeling guilty about it, so I'd stopped sponsoring unless I was actually helping someone. Small mercies.

"I do put mana into it, you know…"

Do you have any idea how hard that is? The tragedy of going completely unappreciated… how deeply sad is that…

"Nnngh…!"

I stretched, flipping my bothersome hair back over my shoulders.

"Haa… Still, I should probably do some work."

Time to put the psycho-infested games on hold for a while and focus on my actual profession.

Yu Eunha.

Age: twenty.

Occupation: NEET.

Thanks to the world going completely insane, I was someone who had never received a single day of modern mandatory education. And the reason I could still live without working?

I put on my glasses for focus and stared at the computer screen.

"Jarvis. Cola and popcorn, please."

A freeloader's true calling: lounging around and binge-watching Netflix.

At the same time, a cold sensation wrapped around the back of my neck.

"Eek! Cold!!"

"Ugh. And who is Jarvis supposed to be?"

A chilly, thoroughly unimpressed voice came from behind me.

What…?

You're from a generation that doesn't know that?

"This won't do. You and I are going to have to thoroughly study Netflix together."

"What are you even talking about? I have to leave for the Academy soon."

"Hnn… Eunae. I think the reason you don't have any friends is because you don't engage in basic cultural activities."

"Studying is fine and all, but you should enjoy a little culture too…"

I was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠genuinely worried about my little sister's social life.

At that, Eunae's voice sharpened.

"Wh-what are you saying first thing in the morning?! And who says I don't have friends! I have tons!"

"Impossible."

I was certain of it. My adorable little sister was living through a friendless school life.

My younger sister, who looked just like me.

Because—

"I didn't have any friends either."

Our personalities were similar, so of course it would be the same.

"…Unnie, you're a NEET hikikomori, so of course you don't have friends. I actually have some!"

Ugh…

Was being called friendless that upsetting? Eunae hit me right in the soul with that one.

Then, as if something had just occurred to her, she smacked me hard on the back and shouted.

"Ah, right! You bought a computer with the scholarship money I got this time, didn't you?!"

…How did she know?

I definitely cooked the books.

The survival strategy of a freeloader like me was simple.

Mooched off a self-made blood relative.

Received allowance from my little sister — an Academy student and researcher on a full elite track.

A textbook specimen of a parasitic older sibling.

That was me.

"Anyway, consider yourself allowance-free this month!"

"Life's already tight enough as it is, and Unnie really…"

She wasn't genuinely furious, but she was clearly sulking because I'd teased her about having no friends.

The part about no allowance, though — that seemed sincere.

There's no way my wallet can survive a world where jajangmyeon costs twenty thousand won.

I needed a plan.

"And stop watching movies and anime from twenty years ago. You look like some old uncle. Kids these days don't watch that stuff."

"What? Then what am I supposed to do for fun?"

Surely people in this era didn't just kick soccer balls around for entertainment…

"Obviously you play by writing circuit designs and research papers?"

Yu Eunae answered as if that were the most natural thing in the world.

I was left speechless with horror.

Twenty years ago, the education-obsessed tiger moms would have lost their minds if they'd heard that.

Just how hard did she study for her brain's reward circuit to completely break…?

I should have spent the time I wasted free-sponsoring random strangers playing with my little sister instead.

My heart ached.

This was entirely my responsibility. From now on, I'd hang out with Eunae more. Yeah.

When I looked at her with pity, her expression turned terrifying.

"…You're having weird delusions by yourself again."

Eunae's face looked exactly like mine from my past life, so even a simple scowl was incredibly intimidating.

The difference in our eye shapes was that dramatic.

No wonder people used to run away from me.

"Ah, look at the time. I'm heading out, so try going outside a little too."

I fidgeted with my pure white hair, looking a bit troubled by that suggestion.

"I did go out last time, actually. Some people said there were good modeling gigs or part-time jobs and told me to come by… but I was too lazy, so I just didn't go."

Maybe it was the bleached-looking white hair… the moment I stepped outside, I drew every eye in the vicinity.

White hair had been pretty common in the other world, though.

"What…? Which bastard…"

"Still, I'll try going out later."

"No. Unnie, you just stay home."

Eunae sat me back down firmly, her eyes gone ice-cold.

See? Scary…

I watched Eunae leave the house and started thinking about ways to make money.

That should work.

A method I'd used to earn cash when I was very young.

Post a thread on a certain community.

I may have had zero foundational academic education, but when it came to magical knowledge, I was confident.

I didn't like saying it myself, but people used to go absolutely crazy just to attend a single one of my lectures.

And I was offering that for less than a hundred thousand won!

But when has life ever been that easy?

One hour.

Two hours…

Before I knew it, an entire day had passed, and not a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠single message had come through.

I tore off my glasses with hollow eyes.

They're throwing away an opportunity this good?

Have Earthlings completely lost their minds?

No wonder magic isn't advancing at all.

If you're worse than medieval peasants, what are you even doing?

Should I just start roaming around like a psychopath the way other returnees do? Should I? Huh?

Haa. Calm down. Calm down.

No choice, then. I'd have to resort to the last resort…