No Self-Awareness

Yegyeong was, in her own estimation, an agent entrusted with a mission of no small importance.

She was to help Yeonmin—a being who had crossed over from another world, wielding power no one could quite identify—adapt to the modern age. And since Yeonmin must not be allowed to harm the people here, Yegyeong was also to see that she acquired a working grasp of modern common sense.

From what she had been told, Yeonmin could interfere with the human mind, and could rewrite a body's form before anyone even registered what was happening.

The one consolation was that Yeonmin was extremely well-disposed toward humans, and, by any objective measure, of a thoroughly virtuous nature. Had that not been the case, she might have brainwashed people while keeping her abilities hidden. Or she might have turned humans not into beautiful girls, but into explosives.

Of course, none of that meant Yegyeong could rest entirely easy. She could only hope that Yeonmin would remain as friendly toward humanity as Miso Cheonsa.

But worrying over whether a meteor might fall tomorrow, whether an earthquake or a flood might strike, whether the Earth might be destroyed in her sleep—that sort of fretting did not suit Yegyeong's temperament. So she simply trusted the Association and Miso Cheonsa, and accepted the order to cohabit with these lovely naturalized immigrants.

Yeonmin and Helena.

Helena's manner was a bit sharp, true, but from what Yegyeong had gathered, she was endlessly soft toward anyone who treated her kindly. Just look at how she handled Yeonmin—as if tending something infinitely precious and liable to shatter. Never mind that Yeonmin could, with a mere flick of a finger, kill everyone nearby. No—she wouldn't even need to move a finger.

Perhaps Helena was good by nature, and, having come through a wretched past, was simply starved for affection. So while Yegyeong felt sorry for her, she did not consider her dangerous. Watching her take down a demon even with no bullets in her gun, one could certainly say Helena possessed power threatening enough to ordinary people. But unless she went around pointing that muzzle at people, nobody was going to be frightened of her. They would just think, ah, a long-limbed, generously built beauty wearing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a holstered pistol—she must be from some Western.

Yeonmin, however, was genuinely dangerous.

Yegyeong had not met that many people yet, of course. But that was what the manuals taught. Those who proclaimed themselves gods tended to be well-behaved so long as you satisfied their vanity. Revere them, confer a suitably grand title, offer a modest material tribute within realistic bounds. Knowing the unfortunate circumstances of having crossed into another world, they would yield a little and be content. And because they assessed their own abilities with precision, the moment they met someone stronger they would tuck their tails, compromise, and settle into life here.

Of course, the gods from other worlds who failed to do so had all been put down. Regrettable, that.

Yeonmin, on the other hand, had no awareness that she herself was a god. Never mind that she lacked any all-powerful or imposing presence. She did not even seem to understand what kind of influence her actions carried. That was what drove you insane. Her innocence was no different from a child's.

If Yeonmin had been a villain, they could have beaten her down and locked her up until she was reformed, or simply eliminated her. But how were you supposed to treat someone who just wanted everyone to be happy that way? The best they could do was fasten those Mana Restraints on her, promising to guarantee her as much freedom as possible.

Yes—the Mana Restraints. That was Yegyeong's last line of defense. With those on, Yeonmin was just a pretty nun, wasn't she?

Of course, that overflowing bust contrasted so sharply with her slender waist that it looked even larger, and the way she walked with that little sway was enough to enchant even another woman. And despite that alluring face, her behavior was so utterly innocent that even Yegyeong, who had no particular interest in women, honestly felt her heart skip at times.

In those moments, the combination of that goddess and Helena was fantastic. Even if someone tried to approach Yeonmin as she wandered around smiling so unguardedly, they wouldn't dare—not with Helena watching, those eyes gone fierce and blue. Just at lunch there had been plenty of men who wanted to speak to Yeonmin, and they hadn't been able to.

Anyway, she was wearing the Mana Restraints that guaranteed her own safety, and both Yeonmin and Helena had good personalities. So Yegyeong resolved to live her best life in this notorious villa.

The Adaptive Villa. Among the handlers, it was known as a place where you never knew what prank might wear you out.

The fact that they had crossed from another world and were living here meant they were all of a good nature, in theory. The problem was that it was only a matter of the heart. Like a grandmother frantically preparing food the moment her grandchildren visit, their goodwill was merciless, and they were ignorant of the other party's standards. Just as Yeonmin had turned Agent Park Hanseo into a beautiful girl.

There were those who would drag you into their room crying, I want you to be happy! Watching this movie will make you happy! And many who, following the manuals Yeonmin and Helena had read, injected goodwill as they pleased, regardless of the other person's wishes.

Of course, they also knew how fragile humans were as living beings, and so they took special care not to cause injury or psychological harm. Like: you mustn't squeeze a puppy too hard; you mustn't hiss in front of a cat. But it was also common for someone, thrilled that a human had enjoyed fried chicken, to stick meat back onto the chicken bones and fry it up as a gift. They thought they were expressing goodwill in the same spirit. They had no idea the other person would be terrified.

That was how the manuals had been written. Everyone was just trying, in their own way, to get along. If it had merely been a nuisance to each other, that would have been one thing—but it reached the level of making people jump out of their skins. That was why this facility had such a notorious reputation among agents assigned to returnees and naturalized immigrants. Unless you had an unusually unflappable personality, there would be plenty of occasions to be startled and afraid.

Still, Yegyeong had a sense of mission, and she was prepared to endure that much. If it was for a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world where everyone could be happy, this much was nothing. Besides, every moment spent living here counted as work hours. With overtime and hazard pay stacked on, she was bringing in three times her usual salary. So she would manage.

If anything, she considered it lucky to have been assigned as handler to a gentle Outer God like Yeonmin. A returnee or naturalized immigrant who had suffered every kind of betrayal in another world, steeped in deep-rooted distrust and hatred of humanity—she never could have handled someone like that.

"Wow. The house is pretty spacious. The view outside is nice, too. Helena, do you see that green ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forest over there? After looking at nothing but wasteland every day, seeing a forest feels quite moving, doesn't it?"

"Well. Forest or wilderness, it's just a different color. Not sure it warrants that much sentiment…"

"Ahem. Just a different color? The wilderness is nothing but bandits and scorpions and tumbleweeds rolling around. But a forest! First of all there's a spring, and deer and rabbits, and bandits, and also…"

"Fine. It's different. The forest is nicer. Happy?"

"Ehehe."

See? A goddess whose very glance at the veranda dripped with innocence. Thanks to that, Yegyeong could watch the two women's backs and smile in genuine contentment. With naturalized immigrants like these, she felt she could live a year, even two. Ah—though of course she would have to date and get married, so anything beyond that might be a bit much.

"Hmm… Then how should we divide the rooms? There are only two."

And there, for the first time, a problem presented itself. The home the villa had prepared for them had only two rooms. No—every unit in the villa was built the same way: one living room flanked by two bedrooms. One returnee or naturalized immigrant, one assigned handler. That was the standard. Yeonmin and Helena were simply a special case.

Ordinarily they would have been housed separately, each with a handler of their own. But both Helena and Yeonmin were of such harmless temperament that, after a meeting upstairs concluded that teaching them the basic common sense of this place would suffice, Yegyeong had been deployed alone. She was glad of it—she was being paid more for it, after all. And keeping Helena close was also the better way to restrain Yeonmin. That was how the three of them had ended up traveling together, exceptionally. And so this situation had arisen. It wasn't anyone's carelessness or mistake, exactly. They simply hadn't thought this far ahead.

For all that she went around with that easy laugh and acted like a child, perhaps it was because she was a goddess in name if nothing else—Yeonmin was the first to step in and mediate this awkward predicament.

"Each of us should have a room, so Helena and Yegyeong can take one each."

"Then you won't have a room, Yeonmin."

"Huh? I don't really need a room. I can sleep on the sofa, or in the bathtub. Ah—the sink might be a bit too cramped, though."

"Do you honestly think that makes any sense? How are we supposed to rest easy if you're sleeping in places like that?"

Most of the types who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠called themselves gods would have driven everyone else out and demanded a room of their own. This devoted goddess, by contrast, was even showing a sacrificial streak.

"Ah—it's fine if I just spread out bedding in the living room. Wouldn't it be better for the two of you to each have a room?"

But no matter how much they tried to accommodate Yegyeong, she knew these two were the ones who made her paycheck possible. That put her in the position of accommodating them as much as she could. There was the drawback of losing her privacy, but she had already known, taking this job, that hobbies requiring time alone would be difficult. For that salary, she could endure as much as she needed to.

"Hmm, still—you're the one working so hard for our sake. How about this? Helena and I will share a room, and you take one to yourself, Yegyeong. Helena, you can just think of me as a pebble by the roadside."

"…You've always been watching me anyway, so I suppose I'm used to it. Even so, I'd rather divide the rooms this way."

And even then, the two of them readily offered her a room of her own. Yegyeong felt a lump rise in her throat. She found herself thinking that she truly ought to treat these two well from now on—or rather, this one person and this one goddess. Of course, she had no intention of doing anything that would put her in their debt, salary or no. Meaning to give as good as she had received, she opened her mouth.

"Then I'm very grateful, but will the two of you be all right? If there's anything else you need, please just say the word…"

"Ohh. Then could you undo these ropes for me? Outside, I have to stay tied up so other people can feel at ease—but at home it's fine, isn't it? It's just us."

Perhaps this was why she was a goddess after all. Yeonmin was attempting a bargain this sly. And as if that weren't enough, she leaned in with a coquettish face and blinked those innocent eyes.

Yegyeong was not even interested in women. And still her heart lurched, and her breath caught. Had she not received mental-discipline training at the Association, she might have fainted on the spot, nosebleed and all.

But she barely kept her wits about her, somehow managed a proper refusal, and retreated to her room—where she added two lines to Yeonmin's threat assessment.