I'm Not a Hero, Though (3)
“Fuck, who the hell are you?”
As expected, the irritating response came right back.
And to me, that meant things were about to get a whole lot more annoying.
Hands jammed in my pants pockets, I scowled as hard as I could and sauntered over to them.
“Someone here to get his money back.”
“You crazy bitch, you even dragged your tail along?”
“Ah, it hurts...”
“You fucking bitch, all mouth and... whatever. Deal with that asshole first...”
Right then, I yanked my hand from my pocket and fired off the steel ball wedged between my fingers.
Target: his ear.
“Aaack!”
Seeing the scrawny bastard clutch his ear let me know my ambush had hit home.
“Boss!”
“Fuck...”
Typical Koreans—can't they just quit the swearing and scram?
I glared at C, whose stubborn survival instinct was still kicking, and fished another steel ball from my pocket.
“Next one's your eye.”
Could a normal everyman like me pull this off?
Too late for that question; I'd come way too far. Rolling the steel ball across my palm, I felt anew how deeply this world had rubbed off on me.
It looked like harmless fidgeting, but from this stance, I could launch it like a bullet anytime.
My whole body was the stock; my ability, the trigger.
“You think you can pull this shit in our turf and handle the fallout...?”
“Handle my ass—you steal someone's cash and then yap about it? Just cough it up and beat it.”
“...Let's go.”
“Boss?”
“I said let's go!”
Lame as hell.
I watched the two punks slink off, one with blood gushing from his ear, then turned to the girl huddled in the corner, clutching her head.
She rolled her eyes wildly, met mine, and squeezed them shut tight.
...No way she thinks I'm gonna hit her, right?
That'd be kinda fucked up.
I edged closer to her tiny frame, careful-like.
Good thing she didn't bolt—just stayed curled up tight.
Maybe no will left to run.
Or no strength for it.
“You okay?”
“...”
No reaction, just huddled there.
I squatted down in front of her and scooped up the wallet from the floor, checking inside.
Jackpot—they hadn't skimmed the cash.
Now... what the hell to do with her.
Gazing down at the battered girl—face swollen like a balloon from the beating—I sank into thought.
Did I even have the right to meddle in her life?
Hell, my own setup wasn't solid yet; adding another mouth to feed was pure downside.
Cold logic said bail now, clean and simple.
Even if those pests brought reinforcements, it'd drag me into bullshit. I hadn't planted roots deep enough—getting mixed up could cost me this hard-won pad.
Alligator Gang turf or not, no alarms or cops in this shit world; they could sneak in, wipe us out, done.
But.
But...
Was that the right call, morally?
Sure, this apocalypse-adjacent hellhole wouldn't judge me for ditching. Mina wouldn't even blink.
Seoul heroes might preach, but I'm no hero.
Never wanted the gig.
But... I was a transmigrator.
A drifter from an era where shielding kids was default.
I could stand, turn, walk—easy. But my feet wouldn't budge.
Inevitable, really.
Thought killing folks had toughened me up plenty, but apparently not enough to abandon a kid on death's door.
“...Aren't you gonna hit me?”
“Nope.”
Her dead eyes flicked up, puzzled.
Beatings normal for her, huh.
...Should've blasted that guy's eardrums for life, not just winged the ear.
“Hungry?”
“...Dunno.”
...Shit, worse vibe than first spotting Mina.
I sighed, stuck out my hand.
“You eat regular?”
Classic Korean opener.
---------------------
“Damn, she packs it away...”
“No one's snatching, so take it slow.”
The girl—who still hadn't spilled her name—was hoovering the spread like a black hole.
We paused our own meals just to gawk.
Her ravenous chomping was kinda endearing, but pity hit hard too.
How starved was she usually, shoving it in like that?
“Gulk...”
“Water too.”
I poured a glass and set it down. She snuck a peek at me, snatched it, and gulped it down.
Mukbang gold in old Korea.
I spectated the live show till she wrapped up.
Didn't drag; portions were light anyway.
Plates scraped clean, she snapped back, shot me a sidelong glance, and mumbled.
“Th-thank you for the meal...”
“More? Speak up.”
“N-no, I'm good...”
Slurring through it, she waved me off weakly and peered up.
Staring contest won't magic up answers.
...Time for Q&A.
“Home?”
She pondered, then nodded like it pained her.
...Face screams “crash pad,” not home.
No decent roof, she'd skip pickpocketing and bruises.
Beat-up look says chronic.
So... shipping her back sits wrong.
“Where?”
“...Don't wanna... no hitting...”
“Won't.”
“Mister...”
Her headspace so wrecked, no clue where to probe.
When'd I ever chit-chat with a kid like this?
Not like I'm Teacher X Eun-young; zero manual for abuse survivors.
Still, gotta try...
I mulled phrasing, then spoke.
“Parents?”
Headshake.
Orphan.
Explains the rough handling.
Parents or not, no guarantee they're sane.
Could be the violence source.
Kids worth zilch here especially.
“Don't wanna go? Crash here.”
Decision made.
Park her here, scout better digs, or hook with Alligator Gang for work/lodging.
Beats thieving life.
Not blameless... but forced, botched anyway.
Might be dumb self-sabotage.
“No... they'll track...”
Her voice snapped my reverie.
“Scared those punks'll show?”
“Burden you... bad...”
“Burden bullshit. Stay put—they won't touch this spot.”
Outskirts Alligator turf.
Storming here? War with the gang.
Viper wannabes get stomped frontal.
Unless she strolls back solo, untouchable.
Crooks spit on sense, though—no slacking.
“Still... okay?”
“Yeah. Mina, wash her up? Lend clothes too.”
“On it.”
I watched Mina tote the head-shorter girl to the bathroom, sighed, and cleared the table.
Family just ballooned outta nowhere.
Net good or bad?
Felt noble, but regretted the impulse.
Gotta grind hunts harder; three mouths ain't cheap.
Remapping life around this curveball, one thing hit me.
“Forgot the name.”
Brain fart.
Ask on exit.
Dishes done, I flopped on the sofa, waiting.
Five-ish minutes later, bathroom door: girl and Mina, towels turbaned, approaching.
“Mister, all clean.”
One shower, and Mina's wiped—exhaustion etched deep.
Bath time rough, huh.
Patted her shoulders thanks, eyed the girl.
Leaps better now, but she flinched at eye-lock.
“Slipped my mind—name?”
“M-me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“I-I'm... Seolhwa.”
“What?”
Felt like a name I shouldn't have heard.
“S-Seolhwa...”
Seolhwa.
...That monster villain Seolhwa?
Blindsided, I just gawked at her.