Home! (Not My Home)
"It's just that you seem like exactly the talent we've been looking for! I've never once in my life seen a face like yours! Honestly, you're even prettier than our own girls!!"
"——————!!" (Unya-ya-yak!!)
The woman in sunglasses had grabbed hold of my leg and was dragging herself across the floor. Coiling her arms around it like a snake, she made it abundantly clear that she had no intention of ever letting go.
"————!" (Hee-yeee!)
What is even happening right now?
When I kicked my leg about trying to shake her loose, she only squeezed tighter and dug in. No — off. Get off me, please.
"Our finances are in really serious trouble, you see!! Couldn't I possibly ask you for a favor?"
[Um, I don't think that's how a person asking for a favor is supposed to behave?!]
"Hup!"
Apparently realizing she'd just committed a serious blunder, she sucked in a sharp breath and gradually loosened the arms wrapped around my leg.
"Ahem. I—I'm very sorry."
The woman knelt neatly before me and bowed her head in apology. The way she could switch gears at a moment's notice was genuinely impressive.
Truthfully, every single one of her movements put me in mind of an Upper Realm mage. Which is to say, she looked completely unhinged.
[Well then. Take your time — tell me why exactly you want to scout me, and all the rest of it.]
"Ah — yes, ma'am."
The woman in sunglasses launched into an earnest recitation of every virtue a magical girl could possess, her passion for the profession spilling out of her. Kneeling with both hands resting on her knees and her back ramrod straight, she didn't forget to emphasize her place as the absolute underdog in this negotiation, either. Given what she'd said earlier about their finances, she was clearly dead serious about scouting me.
Sorry, but I have zero intention of becoming a magical girl?
Besides, wasn't that just how the underground magical girl life always went? Start at rock bottom, survive one crisis after another, claw your way up to the very top...
Which was a lovely fairy tale. The reality was that you counted yourself lucky to scrape together three meals a day.
A magical girl had to handle the entire entertainment package — dancing, singing, magic, combat, all of it. Apparently a few of them even dabbled in finance and politics on the side...
An Association mage at least walked away from salary negotiations with a contracted income. An underground magical girl's money manager could abscond with every last coin she had.
You want me to take a job only dopamine-addled lunatics would touch?
[———— ———?]
What are you talking about! I'm self-employed! Money's just a little tight at the moment — once my golden age rolls around, I'll be raking in a hundred million won a day, easy!
And if that day ever came, I'd hire a whole army of minions to work under me and live out the glorious life of a CEO eating hamburgers in her executive office.
I'd only imagined it, but what a flawless life that would be.
"——." (Heh-heh.)
Picturing myself munching hamburgers in that corner office, my face melted all on its own into an easy, natural smile.
Then I smoothed away my thoroughly slackened expression and looked back at the woman — and the look she gave me had changed. It was a soft, steady gaze, brimming with gratitude and something like reverence.
Hold on... what?
I puzzled for a moment over why she was making that face.
Oh?!
The answer arrived quickly.
Don't tell me she thinks I smiled because I'm seriously considering the magical girl offer?
If ever a misunderstanding deserved the name, this was it.
I rushed to raise the kneeling woman to her feet and explain myself — when, off in the distance, four girls came sprinting toward us with looks of pure horror. They were the magical girls who'd been singing and dancing on stage just moments ago. Presumably this woman served as something like their manager, and they were hurrying over to contain the damage she'd inflicted on a total stranger.
Huh.
Truthfully, I didn't find it a bother, or an imposition. Sure, I hadn't appreciated her trying to drag me into the most notoriously exploitative industry of the century without my consent — but she was desperate, wasn't she? If I ever met a savior who'd steer my life onto the freeloading fast track, I might have done exactly the same thing. So I could understand her. More or less.
"I'm so sorry. Our manager, she..."
[Oh, it's fine. She amused me, so I'll let this much rudeness slide.]
I made a point of phrasing it just a touch haughtily.
Getting tired of this. Hungry. Sleepy.
[——! ——! ——! ——!]
I said no!
The leader — a magical girl in a white dress — went wide-eyed at the sight of my text box materializing in the air. And then, hands trembling, she couldn't bring herself to meet my eyes at all.
It was the exact expression I'd worn back when I was behind on rent, facing my landlord. The behavior of a person standing before an unavoidable calamity. Which meant that to the leader, I was apparently some kind of walking disaster.
Why, though?
[——— ————.]
Ha. Really? No way.
According to Yumin, my behavior just now was precisely how nobles in her world behaved — using text boxes instead of their voices to speak with the lower classes, casually lacing every sentence with contempt. So the leader had evidently mistaken me for some industry senior who'd deliberately dressed down in rags for the occasion.
The manager seemed to know I wasn't actually like that, but with her still kneeling there staring at the floor... eh, whatever. Close enough.
Too much hassle. I'll just steamroll through this.
I let out the most contemptuous sigh my vocal cords could produce, then summoned a text box. The expression of open disdain came free of charge.
"H-hiiek!"
Normally, people who talk like this fish something out of their pocket and throw it at you. Why would I? Income-wise, they and I are about on the same level. I pinch my pennies too. I've got nothing to give you.
So I simply turned around and went on my way.
"You there!"
I was hurrying to get away from the venue as fast as my legs would carry me when the leader shouted at the back of my head. "Just you wait and see! We're going to become the magical girls who captivate Korea — no, the entire world!"
"——." (Heh.)
I turned my head, flashed an insolent little smile, and put up one last text box.
[Good luck with that.]
Then I vanished from their sight at a brisk pace.
God, that was embarrassing.
I really should have learned Teleportation...
"——!" (Hah-choo!)
I made the rounds of the glass shops, booked an appointment, and came back to the naming office. The earliest anyone could come out to install anything was tomorrow morning, they said.
It had been fine earlier, while the sun was still up, but once it set the cold was absolutely brutal. Apparently I had badly underestimated autumn. If I slept like this, by tomorrow I'd be a fully frozen Lee Yumin slushie, served at exactly the right temperature for eating.
In a pinch, I'd covered the broken window with newspaper I'd bought on the way back, but it provided precisely zero insulation. It kept the wind out, at least — and that was all it did.
"———— ————…." ("Can't even turn on the heater thanks to the mana tax...")
The ceiling had a magitech unit that doubled as heater and air conditioner, and I hadn't switched it on a single time since moving in. Word was, one hour of that thing burned through 50,000 won.
My landlord had specifically advised me — for the sake of my perpetually broke self — never to turn it on no matter what happened, so it had to be true. And apparently the tax went straight to the government, so not even she could do anything about it.
"—————." (Huuuuuh.)
I parted my lips slightly to push out the cold air pooled in my lungs, and a wisp of white breath slipped out between them.
Wait, it's still autumn, isn't it...? Insane global warming. I turn my lights off and take public transit, you know! Why do I have to suffer for this?!
[———— ———?]
"—————." ("Turns out there are things in this world even magic can't fix.")
Even while trading boxes with Yumin, I sat on the sofa wrapped in a blanket, shivering uncontrollably.
How did the American Captain endure decades of this? Truly a super soldier. My deepest respects.
But stay like this any longer and I might actually die.
Nothing for it, then. This was an emergency.
With hands shaking from the cold, I fumbled for my smartphone. One of the three contacts saved in it:
Kim Soyeon
My landlord.
I dialed the number saved under my landlord—
"————!!!" ("WAIT!!!")
Yumin, has the cold frozen your brain along with everything else?!
Right now I'm not Lee Yumin, owner of Yurim Naming Office — I'm Lee Yuna, the office's acting manager and Yumin's younger sister. If I called from Yumin's phone, what would she think? Yumin... don't tell me Yumin was Yuna all along? Then what about my 100,000 won...? That's exactly what she'd think!
"—————!" ("Which means I'd be the only one who ends up looking like a lunatic!")
The landlord could get leverage over me and work me like a slave for the rest of my life!
Whew. Terrifying.
I opened my notepad and dug out the landlord's unique ID, the one I'd jotted down the first time we met.
"—————?" ("It's my first time — can I even manage this?")
[————— ————.]
Oh.
Right — Yumin was telling me that unique ID for contacting the landlord. It wasn't mine. It belonged to Lee Yumin.
Yumin! Is your brain actually frozen?!
Why was I making so many idiotic mistakes today, of all days?
So I folded the ID away and decided to just use the office phone instead. The landlord had given it to me as a gift a while back, after all. First time using it — I'd figure it out somehow.
Click. Cliiiick-click. Click. Cliiick.
I keyed in the landlord's number, more or less, and the phone started connecting on its own.
Brrrring... brrrring...
[———— ———?]
"——." (Ah.)
A call, by its very nature, is two people talking to each other.
Which means, quite obviously, that a person who can't speak cannot make a phone call!
Ugh — why couldn't all of humanity have become Newtypes...
Even as I suffered over the tragic non-Newtypeness of the human race, the call to my landlord kept ringing on. When the short connection tone finally ended, her voice came through the receiver.
"Hello? Yuna?"
"Aah. Ah-eh-ah-oo."
"Hm?"
"Oo. Ah-eh-u. Oo-ah. Uh..."
"I can't tell why you called, but something's wrong, isn't it?"
"Ah-oo-eh-ah."
"Mm-hm. Thought so. I'll ask the questions, so you just answer them. Got it? One 'ah' for yes, one 'oo' for no?"
"Ah."
"Did something happen?"
"Ah."
"Are you hurt?"
"Oo."
"Hm... Then is it something with the building?"
"Ah!"
"I seeeee?"
A faint trace of anger had crept into the landlord's voice. She wasn't one to lose her temper easily, but anything concerning her buildings could make her a little emotional. Comes with being a landlord, presumably.
"Is it bad enough that you can't sleep?"
"Ah!! Eh-oo-ah-oo-ah-u-ah-eh-ah!"
"Calm down, calm down. So that's why you called?"
Nod-nod-nod.
"For now, come over to my place. Talking like this is exhausting. Ask Yumin for my address — she'll tell you."
"Ah!"
Okay! The landlord has approved the house visit!
Maybe I could even crash there for a night or so!
[———— ————.]
"—————!" ("Oh, hush!")
Who said anything about getting kicked out! Does she really look that heartless to you? I believe in my landlord. She's a woman of nirvana-tier character, certified personally by me.
"Yuna?"
"Ah-oo-ah-eh-u."
Anyway — to the landlord's house!!