Does This Even Work?
“Hey, what exactly did I say?”
“Cream puff and coffee milk...”
“You crazy bastard!”
A vicious kick slammed into the scrawny boy’s chest and sent him flying backward. He tumbled across the floor in a heap. Desks and chairs scraped and clattered as the rest of the class scrambled out of the way, watching in silence.
The boy clutched his chest, coughing and gasping in pain. The blond-dyed guy who’d kicked him strode over, grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair, and yanked his head up.
“You fucking piece of shit. When a person talks, you listen properly. Am I speaking a foreign language?”
“I-I’m sorry...”
“Sorry fixes everything? Then I could just kill you and say sorry and that’d be the end of it, right? Should we try that?”
The boy trembled violently, too terrified even to meet his eyes.
“Yo, this kid’s about to piss himself.”
“Kang-su, ease up. He’s so scared he’s not even in his right mind anymore, haha...”
Those were the friends of the guy called Kang-su—the one who’d just kicked him in the chest. The usual pack of school thugs, jeering as always. The boy—no, Gwang-deok—could only shake in fear.
“Hey.”
Kang-su slapped Gwang-deok’s cheek lightly a few times, looking down at him like he was an insect.
“From now on, do what you’re told properly. When did I ever say cream puff? I said fresh cream bread.”
“Y-yeah... sorry.”
Gwang-deok apologized, watching Kang-su’s every move for a reaction. But the cream puff he’d bought hadn’t been wrong at all. Kang-su had told him to get a cream puff, not fresh cream bread.
Kang-su stood up and turned away.
“Let’s go.”
He led his pack out of the classroom. Gwang-deok stayed where he was, drool still running down his chin, trembling with terror. And this wasn’t a one-time thing. Day after day, Gwang-deok served as Kang-su’s punching bag and bread shuttle, enduring the bullying and abuse.
He had no power to fight back. Unlike Kang-su, who came from a successful business family, Gwang-deok’s home was worse than ordinary working-class—he lived under a drunken, abusive father. At home he had to endure his father’s drunken rants demanding he go buy more booze. At school he was Kang-su’s pack’s punching bag and bread shuttle. Life was hell every single day.
High school had been hell for Gwang-deok. Military service hadn’t been any better—he’d barely scraped through as an interest soldier and finally gotten discharged. Now he was twenty-one.
Fuck... should I just die like this?
Gwang-deok was thinking about death. He’d managed to scrape together a shabby rooftop room and was barely surviving. Even among the lower class, he was at the very bottom. Leaving his drunken father had been a good thing, but he was still a worthless NEET who couldn’t do anything. In that tiny rooftop room he drank cheap soju the same way his father always had, then collapsed on the floor.
I hope I don’t wake up.
He wanted to die of a heart attack right then and there.
“What the hell?”
Thick fog blanketed everything. Gwang-deok stood there, looking around. It was a space filled with white mist where he couldn’t see a thing.
Why am I standing in a place like this?
He’d clearly fallen asleep watching YouTube at home. So why was he standing in this foggy void?
“Are you dissatisfied?”
A voice came from behind him. Startled, Gwang-deok spun around.
“Hah!”
He stumbled backward in shock. Standing there was a pale, sleekly handsome man with not a drop of color in his face.
“I asked if you’re dissatisfied with your life.”
“W-who are you? And where is this?”
“Just answer the question.”
The man cut him off and demanded an answer again.
“Dissatisfied? Of course I’m fucking dissatisfied! You think my life isn’t complete shit right now?!”
Gwang-deok shouted in anger. The man simply nodded.
“So that’s why you watch YouTube every day or guzzle soju and pass out just like that father of yours.”
“W-what?”
Gwang-deok looked flustered.
“No need to be surprised. I’ve been watching everything.”
For the first time, the man curved his lips into a smile.
“I’ll give you a chance at revenge. The kind a loser like you would love.”
“Huh?”
The moment the man mentioned a chance for revenge, Gwang-deok saw a flash of light before his eyes.
“Hah!”
He jerked upright, sitting up in bed.
“W-what?”
He looked around and realized he was in his own room.
“Huuuh... just a shitty dream.”
He sighed and started to get up for some water—then stopped.
“Huh?”
Something felt off. The view outside the window didn’t look like late afternoon. It felt more like early dawn.
He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, then remembered it was on the floor. He picked up the dead device, turned it on, and froze.
“S-six in the morning?”
It was six a.m., just before sunrise.
“It was definitely night...”
He decided he must have just slept deeply.
“Yeah, because I had that stupid dream.”
Dreaming meant he’d fallen asleep. So even if it had been a shitty dream, he’d still gotten some real rest.
“But why dream something like that?”
He opened the tiny fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and drank. His throat felt so dry he had to. He gulped it down, wiped his mouth, and still couldn’t understand why he’d had that ridiculous dream.
“A loser like me getting revenge on the bastards who ruined my life?”
Revenge on Kang-su’s pack? That was something Gwang-deok had always wanted. But there had never been a way. Kang-su’s father ran a successful mid-sized company, while Gwang-deok had been the class outcast, the bread shuttle, and then an interest soldier who’d spent his entire military service as a pathetic wreck.
“It’s all because of those bastards. The reason I ended up this timid and pathetic is because of them.”
He was one of those school-violence victims you see on TV. It wasn’t just because he was small and timid.
“Why the hell did I have to get bullied just because my dick is big?”
The real reason Kang-su had targeted him was that he was a daemul. Kang-su couldn’t stand the idea that a pathetic loser like Gwang-deok had been born with something that huge. It was an absurd reason, but it was enough for Kang-su to mark him and for the whole pack of thugs to torment him.
“Fuck...”
After that, his life had gone straight to hell. The aftereffects and trauma still clung to him. He’d developed social anxiety. He still didn’t know how he’d even survived the military.
“How am I supposed to get through today...”
He muttered with a sigh—then suddenly clutched his head and collapsed to the floor.
“Ugh! Wh-what?”
A splitting headache hit him, and unknown memories flooded his mind. At first he was too confused to do anything, but after a while he managed to calm down and muttered to himself.
“No matter what bullshit I spout, it’ll sound logical to women?”
The memory that had entered his head was built around a single premise: no matter how much nonsense or completely illogical crap he said, men might not buy it—but women would accept it as perfectly logical.
And three faces rose clearly in that memory.
Ju Han-yeong. Age twenty. 157 cm, cute style. The younger sister of Ju Han-hyeok—the one who’d laughed and said Gwang-deok was about to piss himself.
Park Mi-na. Age twenty. 160 cm, shy personality. The younger sister of Park Eun-cheol—the one who’d snickered, “Kang-su, ease up. He’s so scared he’s not even in his right mind anymore, haha...”
And Kim Mi-ju. Age twenty-five. Long straight hair, graduated from a prestigious university, working at a successful IT company. Pure and firm-willed. The older sister of Kim Kang-su—the ringleader who’d tormented Gwang-deok.
Why were these three women floating up in his mind? There was only one answer.
Revenge.
Gwang-deok decided the purpose of these unbelievable memories and information was his revenge.
So that wasn’t just a shitty dream?
Goosebumps rose on his skin. At the same time, it felt ridiculous.
“If you’re gonna give me something, give me a real ability, you bastard. What the hell am I supposed to do with ‘my words sound logical to women’?!”
In ability novels, anime, and dramas, the protagonists always got incredible powers. All he’d gotten was the ability to talk complete nonsense and have women understand it perfectly. It was so absurd he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“He put on that whole dramatic act and then handed me this garbage.”
How was he supposed to get revenge with this? Then another memory surfaced.
“Huh?”
Gwang-deok couldn’t help being surprised. The memory that rose this time was of a convenience store at an intersection not far from this very rooftop room. And the part-timer working there: Ju Han-yeong. The younger sister of Ju Han-hyeok—the bastard who’d laughed that Gwang-deok was about to piss himself while watching him get kicked and drool in pain. The same bastard who used to call Gwang-deok over and beat him like a sandbag whenever he was in a bad mood.
So that bastard’s little sister is working a weekend part-time job right near here?
Today was Saturday. And starting at eight this morning, Ju Han-yeong would be taking over the convenience store shift. This was Seoul. The reason a girl from the countryside like Ju Han-yeong was here was simple: she’d entered university as a freshman and was living in Seoul now.
I was thinking I’d have to go all the way down to Busan, but I don’t need to anymore.
He’d seen Ju Han-yeong several times before—when she came to meet her brother, or when he was being dragged out and beaten while she was there. How humiliating and shameful it had felt to be ordered around like a servant right in front of her, or to apologize to those bastards for being late like some pathetic worm.
“Whether it works or not, let’s try it.”
The memory that had entered his head. Either way, Ju Han-hyeok’s little sister was working at a convenience store in this neighborhood. Perfect for a test.
“Welcome.”
She’d clocked in at eight, finished the handover and cash settlement with the night-shift worker, checked the shelves and stock, and was now standing behind the counter greeting customers. The door chime rang and a man entered wearing a hat pulled low over his face. It was hard to make out his features. He wandered around for a bit, then picked up a can of coffee and brought it to the counter.
Beep.
She scanned the barcode and told him the price. He held out his phone and paid with a mobile payment app.
“Payment complete.”
She finished the transaction and handed the phone back. Then the man spoke.
“Are you Ju Han-yeong, by any chance?”
“Pardon?”
She’d expected him to just take the coffee and leave. Hearing her name made her look at him in confusion.
“Do you know me?”
It had only been a little over a month since she’d gotten into university and come up to Seoul. Weekdays were busy with freshman life at school; weekends she’d just started this convenience store job last week. This was only her third shift, so she was still clumsy and awkward, but she was trying hard. She barely knew anyone in Seoul, so being recognized was surprising. Maybe he was a senior or classmate from school?
Then the man who’d kept his hat pulled low took it off.
“It’s me. Your brother’s friend. Lee Gwang-deok.”
“Lee Gwang-deok? Ah...!”
The moment she saw Gwang-deok’s face under the hat, Ju Han-yeong’s eyes went wide with shock.