Chapter 2

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 2

Chapter Title: Happiness Apartment

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As soon as I woke up, I checked my texts and emails first.

The world had gone to hell in a handbasket, but that didn't mean I was ready to give up on life.

[Web Message]

Hello. This is the recruitment officer from Shingum Bank.

[Web Message]

Hello. This is GG Plus.

[Web Message]

Pocket Star Korea launch pre-registration notice...

I'd applied to every job listing I could find, sparing no effort to somehow slot myself into this cutthroat society's gears.

Unfortunately, this wasn't some fairy-tale world where hard work guaranteed success.

"Rejected, rejected, pre-registration, religious signup, what the hell is this? Demonic summoning ritual? Goddamn it, these bastards."

After swiping away the pointless messages, all that was left was a rent reminder text from the landlady.

She'd said if I didn't pay by the end of the week, she'd deduct it from my deposit. I replied with a casual ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fine, go ahead, then dragged myself out of bed.

"Another day of scraping by."

It was the start of a thoroughly depressing day, but I couldn't stay gloomy forever.

I booted up my computer and checked sites for short-term gigs.

Yesterday's bento delivery had bought me some breathing room, but my balance was always short.

So Boss was a good guy and all, but no way could I survive on just three-ish hours a day.

I searched the gig sites for jobs that didn't discriminate against constellation-less folks like me.

Nine out of ten listings vanished right away, but a few stuck around.

'Mostly deliveries. Wait, what's this? RPG proxy leveling? Who the hell has that kind of cash...'

I was scrolling through like that when one post jumped out at me.

"Oh."

Looked like a total sweet gig just from the description.

Hours were chill, pay was solid.

Best of all? No requirements.

'A security guard without a patron constellation in this day and age!'

Even study room counters were guarded by hellhounds, a.k.a. Cerberus wannabes—kids with the same patron constellations packing the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spots.

Couldn't get better than this.

'Wait, Happiness Apartment?'

Isn't that right here?

The last stop on my daily rounds.

I checked the map just in case it was a coincidence. Nope, same place.

Made it even better.

Over the past few months delivering, I'd only spotted one person coming and going.

Obviously, not much to do. No morning greetings to residents.

No getting chewed out by some vicious fortysomething auntie.

"Okay, applying right now."

I shot off a text for an interview.

Of course, given the world we lived in, I added a caveat at the end.

'I don't have a patron constellation—is that really okay? ૮( ᵕ̩̩ - ᵕ̩̩ c)ა'

Didn't forget the cute emoticon either.

Luckily, my worries were unfounded.

Reply came back: Fine, come for an interview whenever you're free.

"Nice."

If this fell through, proxy RPG leveling was all I'd have left.

A 29-year-old rice-muncher with a degree? That'd be straight-up career suicide.

Glad it didn't come to that.

I threw on some clothes in a hurry and hopped a bus to Happiness Apartment.

The Starex van was at the shop, as usual.

Being a proper (prospective) member of society, I timed it to avoid lunch rush, then texted that I was there for the interview.

Instant reply.

'Wait in the security booth? Where... ah, that must be it.'

True to its age, the booth was old-school.

A squat little hut made of red bricks.

Still, it had all the essentials inside.

CCTV, a small TV, even AC?

This was basically a luxury villa.

'But is it cool to have the TV and CCTV right next to each other?'

You end up just watching TV and ignoring the monitors.

Speaking from experience—even in the army, once a TV showed up in the comms room, no one watched CCTV. That's how I got reamed for missing the CO sneaking in.

'Screwed my leave.'

Lost in those thoughts, I heard the creak of the brass door opening.

I shot to my feet and bowed.

"Hello... uh?"

Uh.

The person who walked in wasn't what I expected.

I'd pictured some stern elderly residents' association chairwoman.

"Oh, hello."

Long, flowing white hair.

Oversized white tee hanging loose.

Shoulders hunched awkwardly.

"...Ma'am?"

The usual delivery customer.

What the hell.

I stared in confusion, and she clearly recognized me too.

"Ah? The delivery guy?"

We'd never really talked, but after months of regular face-to-face drops, she knew me.

Just faces we recognized—visual novel affinity level 1, barely unlocked. Awkward as hell.

"Wh-what brings you here?"

Maybe because it was her turf, she spoke first.

I answered.

"Here for an interview."

"Ah, you're the one who texted..."

"You the one hiring?"

"Y-yeah..."

Seemed we'd both come to the right place. No need to stand on ceremony.

I took a breath, straightened up.

Three seconds of spacing out in front of the boss was plenty.

Bowed slightly and flipped on professional mode.

"Should I call you Director? Or Chairwoman?"

"Wh-what? No, just call me whatever's comfortable."

"Can't do that."

No, seriously.

Never ended well acting casual with people who said to be casual.

They act all chill up front, then bitch behind your back about needing discipline.

Couldn't say that outright, though.

So, roundabout.

"You're representing the apartment, after all. Can't be disrespectful."

"Director? No, nothing like that..."

"Pardon?"

Not the director?

Then why was she here?

"W-well, I'm the owner here."

"Huh? What do you—"

"That's what the text said... This apartment's mine."

Holy shit!!!

I thought she was just the face; turns out she's the actual boss!!!!

I bent at a full ninety degrees.

"Boss! I'll call you Boss!"

"Uh..."

Her face went beet red as she turned away, but she didn't object.

'Of course!'

No Korean hates being called Boss or Teacher.

Wait, is she Korean?

Snow-white hair, red eyes.

Like an albino rabbit palette.

I'd seen pics of folks with albinism online, but hers was even more vivid.

A flicker of doubt crossed my mind, but it passed.

Heads turning into octopuses was a thing now—who cared about hair color?

Probably some constellation influence. I rubbed my hands.

"So, Boss, any questions for me?"

Interview wasn't over yet. Favor seemed okay; just don't screw up.

I ran through expected questions in my head: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠motivation, experience, availability.

Bring it! For 15k an hour, I'd answer anything!

But her question was out of left field.

"Um, but are you really okay?"

"Pardon? With what?"

"Talking to me like this."

What?

Unexpected.

But I didn't flinch.

"Of course."

"No hallucinations or anything? Feeling like you're going insane, or scared?"

"Huh?"

"No weird voices, sudden rage? Not confused about the date, on the verge of laughing or crying uncontrollably, limbs twitching on their own, forgetting who you are, or blanking on what you were just doing?"

"..."

Okay, this was getting heavy.

That eerie vibe I'd felt clicked—her usual demeanor popped into my head.

Always hunched and timid. Ordering every meal delivered.

'No way.'

Was she agoraphobic? Severe social anxiety?

Sad, but understandable.

World was messed up—who was normal?

"Of course not!"

"Huh?"

"I'm enjoying it, actually. How many bosses as pretty as you are there? Heh."

I said it with a deliberate grin.

Not a therapist, but smiling faces don't get spat on, right?

No one spits on a smiler either.

"P-pretty? You're joking..."

"Dead serious."

"A-anyway! That's good enough!"

"Good enough? You mean...?"

"Y-you're hired. Start tomorrow..."

No further questions. Instant hire.

A bit absurd, but whatever.

With her personality, screening for the perfect candidate seemed impossible.

'Worked out perfect.'

Snagged a stable high-pay gig this easily.

"Oh, the work rules are written up there?"

"I'll check right away."

I followed her lead and scanned the rules.

Looked handwritten?

I read down the shaky script.

...

...

Eh.

Something off.

"Boss, is this all?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Really?"

"R-really."

She trailed off, but I nodded.

A bit sparse, but if she said so.

I double-checked.

Lots of numbers, but only the first two filled in.

'Ran out of things to write?'

Probably.

Even I could see there wasn't much to do here. No flower beds or anything on this old complex.

As I thought that, Boss spoke up.

"W-well, I'll head out then?"

"Sure, thanks... wait a sec!"

"Huh?"

I grabbed her before she left.

"Haven't gotten the resident list yet."

Owner was right here, but it was still communal housing.

Better to memorize faces for smooth work.

That was the plan, but her answer surprised me.

"Oh, that. No need to worry."

"Huh?"

"I'm the only one living here."

"Ah."

Right.

Made sense—I'd hardly seen anyone on deliveries...

Wait a minute.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"...I saw some old guy here recently."

"Oh, you saw him too, huh."

Saw him?

What.

"That's actually why I'm hiring security. Lately, weird people keep trying to get in..."

"...Pardon?"

"I-it's nothing!"

Nothing my ass!

"I usually chase them off myself, but they've been increasing. I need to sleep during the day too, so I was looking for someone just for those hours..."

"Whaaaa?!"

"Eek?!"

"You're saying suspicious creeps have been trespassing into a lone woman's home!"

"I-it's like that, but it's fine! They're not really dangerous."

"Not dangerous?! Anyone barging into homes uninvited is dangerous by definition!"

"B-but!"

But what!

Making excuses for attackers after the fact? Classic gaslighting victim!

Couldn't stand for this injustice!

"Police!!! Call the cops!!!"

"Huh?"

"Those scum need to be locked up now! Oh, neighbors! Officer! We've got a victim here!"

"Wait! Hold on!"

I went to dial 112, but she stopped me.

"It's fine! Just calm down...!"

"How can I calm down?! Freaks prowling in 21st-century Seoul!"

"It really is fine! Besides, cops won't come here even if you call!"

What!

Why not!

No—don't tell me!

Is that it!

This wasn't some rich folks' complex, so low-tier residents' calls got ignored?!

Korea's finest bogged down by overload and corruption?!

Couldn't take this reality!

"Whaaaaaaa!"

"F-first, stop screaming!"

"Aaaah!"

I poured out my despair in one go.

Then grabbed her hand.

"Eek!"

"Don't worry, Boss!"

"H-huh?"

"I'll catch those trespassing bastards myself!"

For 15k an hour? I'd nab the creeps, their grandparents, the whole family tree.

"I'll guard this place no matter what—rest easy!"

"...!"

She nodded frantically, then backed out of the booth.

That silent affirmation was proof she trusted me.

Fired up about my new gig, I...

Clocked out.

Official start was tomorrow, after all.

I'll protect the apartment starting tomorrow, Boss.

But I'll still deliver your dinner, so no worries.