Chapter 66: As the Old Saying Goes, One Can Neither Kill Nor Truly Raise a Disciple (1)
Chapter 66: As the Old Saying Goes, One Can Neither Kill Nor Truly Raise a Disciple (1)
I had already conveyed everything I needed to, so I hurriedly prepared to leave.
I had no desire to be caught by those two troublemakers again. One throws punches at people's faces, and the other drools on their hair. There’s a limit to how much someone should haunt your dreams.
I showered in the luxury bathroom, where warm water poured out the moment I turned the tap. After drying myself with a towel larger than my own body, I slipped out of the house.
Once those two wake up, they’ll move according to my intentions on their own.
It was time for me to go home.
Click.
I heard the door close behind me.
No more entering the homes of people who turn strange the moment they fall asleep. From now on, I’d make sure we only met under circumstances where sleeping together was strictly off the table.
With that thought, I hurried down the narrow path through the garden.
The chilly dawn air sapped the remaining moisture from my skin. It was a pleasant cold. I took a breath of the refreshing air, trying to shake off the messy emotions of last night, when—
"Leaving already?"
A hearty male voice echoed through the quiet garden.
"..."
"You have a look on your face that says, 'Why am I facing a wall of muscle first thing in the morning?'"
"Spot on."
"Well, this is my routine. I have to wash the cars and tend to the garden."
Only then did I notice the dainty scissors in his hand. To be precise, they were gardening shears, but in his massive grip, they looked like ordinary scissors.
"Someone went on a rampage in the garden yesterday and left the lawn in shambles, so I had to get up early today."
He chuckled and pointed toward a spot in the yard. Turning my head, I saw boot prints in the mud and long gouges that looked like they’d been carved out by something.
...It really was a mess.
But it wasn't my fault. Didn't the problem start because the three of them, including this man, ambushed me? I did nothing wrong.
There were also traces of grass that had withered in a circle around a muddy pit, but that surely wasn't because of my shockwave. That muscle-head Huang must have neglected to water the lawn. How good could a meathead be at gardening, anyway?
"It’s not like anyone’s going to see the garden anyway. Do it later. Can you give me a ride?"
"I have a lot to do today, so I'm afraid I can't."
"Tsk."
As I clicked my tongue and headed for the main gate, a booming voice followed me.
"Safe travels!"
"Shut it!"
Was he trying to wake the whole neighborhood?
* * *
Creeeeeak.
I opened the window, which made an unnervingly loud noise, and climbed into the house. Did the frame need oiling?
It felt a bit precarious, but this was the only way to enter quietly. If I went through the front door, the Auto-lock would beep loudly, and breaking in was out of the question. Who knew the window to my room, which I always left unlocked, would come in so handy?
To think I’d use the infiltration techniques I learned for assassinations and spying for something like this. It was enough to make me sigh.
—Listen up. Ha-ram, if it’s you, you should be able to slip in unnoticed and unlock a window or a back door.
—Bullshit.
—Just listen. If we put a wig on you like this... and put in contact lenses... you’ll look like an ordinary girl found anywhere.
—Just kill me instead.
—Fix your tone, too. You’ll stand out if you talk like that during an infiltration.
—I’d rather just be a mute.
—Not a bad idea. But you can’t always do that. Repeat after me: 'Um... I’m lost. Could you help me find my parents...?' And squeeze out some tears.
—Screw you.
Thanks to that, a useless memory had resurfaced.
I shook my head to clear the miserable thought, took off my boots, and moved silently. The house was quiet. I couldn't sense anyone awake or moving around.
Thank goodness. I was worried they might already be up.
I placed my boots by the bed and slowly opened the closet. I had to find the clothes. Even if I had disappeared, they might have bought some clothes based on a rough guess of my size. Children's clothing sizes were all more or less the same.
If they had bought them, I had to dispose of them quickly while my disciples were still asleep. No matter how much they insisted, they couldn't make me wear clothes that didn't exist.
Screeeech.
With that thought, I pulled open the closet.
A black suit.
A wide black skirt.
Gray athletic wear.
And various T-shirts.
Nothing wrong here. I suppose they weren't shameless enough to put clothes in their master's closet without permission. In that case, they would have left them in the living room.
Slowly, quietly, without being caught. Just like when I used to sneak into underground bases.
I reached the living room. And there, in the center, sat a shopping bag.
Found it. Now, I just had to check if my clothes were inside and get rid of them.
The moment I reached for the bag—
"Poyo?"
Poyo?
A familiar yet bizarre sound came from inside the bag. Specifically, the voice of my partner, who was useless in almost every situation.
A long, white ball of fur slithered out of the paper bag like a snake. Its eyes were bleary as if it were still half-asleep, and though it looked at me, it didn't seem to recognize who I was.
The White Fur Ball stood upright and swayed from side to side. Then—
"Thieeeeeeeeeeeef! Poyooooooo!"
Dammit.
* * *
A hearing was convened.
A hearing for a deserter who fled from battle and a thief who snuck into the house. My disciples, awakened by the power of the highly efficient security alarm Un-ho, found me standing in the living room.
An interrogation immediately followed.
"So, you're saying you came back to dispose of the clothes?"
"No, it's not like I did anything wrong. They're my clothes."
I didn't know why I had to sit here and take a scolding from my disciple. Was it because of the strange pressure emanating from Han A-bin’s voice? Or was it because of a subtle sense of guilt?
Before I knew it, I was sitting bolt upright on the sofa, pressed against the backrest. I was a bit hesitant to refer to the contents of that paper bag as "my clothes," but I had no other choice.
"Your clothes, Senior?"
"Yes. Is there a problem with me disposing of my own clothes?"
This was it. I had to push through with this.
"Since they were bought with my card, wouldn't it be more accurate to say they aren't yours yet?"
What kind of sophistry was this?
"Then it's fine if I just give you the money, right? Since I'll be buying them with my own money..."
Flutter.
A piece of paper drifted through the air toward me. I caught it reflexively. I felt the strangely smooth texture of the paper against my fingers.
"What's this?"
"Read it."
What could a scrap of paper like this possibly mean...
"What... is this?"
"The price of your clothes, Senior. It's a bit expensive, isn't it? It was hard on me, too."
A bit? This was more than my entire monthly salary. Even if most of my pay was withheld by the Foundation, what the hell was this? I have years of seniority, for crying out loud!
The list wasn't even that long. Three sets of student clothes. I didn't recognize the brand names, but the total was definitely more than my monthly earnings.
"Can you afford to pay for them?"
"I probably... can..."
I could, if I emptied my entire bank account. The question was, was it worth it? For clothes I would never wear?
"Oh, come on. Ms. Oxymoron told us everything. Is it really possible?"
Did Oxymoron blab about every little thing? Even the state of my bank account? Surely she didn't tell them why I had no money?
I had miscalculated. I should have endured a moment of embarrassment and bought proper clothes myself. If I had stayed, I could have at least picked something to my taste. At this rate, I might have to wear whatever my disciple picked out.
Should I just act tough and snap at her, asking what a mere disciple thinks she's doing to her master? Would throwing a tantrum work?
No. That wasn't it. That would be too much like a "kkondae." A kind, middle-aged Magical Girl like me couldn't do that.
Was there really no way out? No way for me to escape?
Right. I’ll just admit they’re my clothes for now and shove them in the back of the closet.
"Um... A-bin? I think Master has reflected on his actions, so maybe we should stop..."
"Si-hyun, it's fine. It's just wearing the clothes once. If he wears them for us, he'll understand how we truly feel."
Wear them once?
There was a strange heat in Han A-bin’s voice. As if she wouldn't accept anything less than me putting them on.
Fine. So this was the compromise? I just had to wear them once.
"If I wear them once, you won't care what I do with them afterward?"
I looked back at A-bin, exerting some pressure of my own.
"Yes. You can do whatever you like with them."
She bore my pressure with a bright, beaming smile. Was this really the same frail Han A-bin? They say children change overnight, and that seemed to be exactly the case.
"Fine. Out of respect for the sincerity of a disciple who bought clothes for her master... just this once."
"Yes!"
It couldn't be helped.
I grabbed Un-ho, who was still wiggling inside the paper bag, and tossed him out the window before pulling out the clothes. Three sets of clothes, carefully wrapped in transparent plastic. I took them out and laid them on the living room table.
Wait, something was off.
"A-bin?"
"Yes!"
"Are these really my clothes?"
"Yes. They're definitely yours, Senior."
The clothes were vastly different from what I had expected.
A navy blue suit set with a necktie.
A set of casual wear that, while a bit narrow in the shoulders, could definitely be called men's clothing.
And a thin gray outfit, perhaps meant for sleeping.
Rather than being women's clothes, they all looked like adult men's clothes tailored for someone of a shorter stature. Even the last gray outfit was a premium item woven from monster fur.
And on top of them lay a small white card.
"And this?"
"Ah, that's..."
Baek Si-hyun looked flustered and tried to stop me, but I had already opened the card and read the contents.
...
It wasn't any grand statement.
Sentences thanking me for being their master.
Sentences thanking me for coming back alive.
A note explaining that after the two of them discussed it, they decided to spend Baek Si-hyun’s first paycheck and Han A-bin’s current one on me. They had agonized over what to get, but since the need for clothes had arisen, they decided on these. A postscript mentioned they couldn't stand to see my frayed, faded clothes anymore.
"You should have told me sooner."
"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise gift!"
Stupid kids. They should have just been honest.
If it was something like this, I could wear it as much as they wanted. These were men's clothes in the dark, somber colors I preferred, with a simple design and no frills. While the accessories and patterns on the clothes were somewhat feminine with their curved lines, they were still clothes that could be considered masculine.
Given my appearance as a Magical Girl, this was likely the optimal choice. The result of them weighing my looks against my tastes. If I had known it would be like this, I should have stayed and gotten them custom-fitted.
"I'll go change."
"Hurry back!"
"I'm sure they'll look great on you, Master!"
Quiet... No. Thank you.
* * *
Each set of clothes I tried on fit as if they had been tailored specifically for me. The length was perfect, and nothing felt too tight. Even the feminine patterns I had initially worried about were mostly hidden by my hair and weren't that noticeable.
Even to someone like me who knew nothing about fashion, I could feel how much thought had gone into these three sets.
One thing I was curious about, though...
"I wasn't even there. How did you get the fit so perfect?"
"You mean the size?"
"Yeah."
They were a perfect fit, just like the clothes Hyun-seok had bought me. Since my body size never changed, these were clothes I could wear for decades.
"Ms. Oxymoron already knew everything."
"Huh?"
"When we told her you had run away, she sent us a file with everything from your height to the length of each of your fingers."
"What?"
What the hell? That’s terrifying. What exactly is Oxymoron doing with my data?
...I’ll let it slide. Everything turned out well because of it, after all.
"I'll wear these with gratitude."
Just as I was about to head back to my room in the gray pajamas I had tried on last—
"There's still one more set."
"I already showed you all three."
"I never said there were only three."
A chill ran down my spine. It was the same feeling I got when surrounded by Enemies from the Otherworld. The feeling of falling into a trap set by an intelligent Otherworldly foe intending to finish us off.
Every action was a setup for a specific strategy. Why was I feeling that same dread from Han A-bin right now?
Rustle.
Han A-bin reached into the shopping bag. The bag that held the disciples' own clothes, which I hadn't looked into.
Rustle.
Something was pulled out.
A lavish gothic dress based in red with black patterns, covered in an excessive amount of frills.
No. It couldn't be. There was no way that was my clothing.
"This is a set for you, Senior, bought with Baek Si-hyun’s reward money from the Public Enemy subjugation."
"It's my money!"
"..."
My mind went blank. The touched sentiment I had felt earlier vanished, and my barely held-together sanity began to drift far away toward the Otherworld.
"You'll... wear it for us, right?"
That?
Me?
Beep.
I heard the sound of a phone being tapped.
Ring, ring, ring.
Han A-bin held her phone in one hand and the dress in the other as she walked toward me.
"...Who are you calling?"
"Ms. Oxy—"
"I'll wear it."
If that woman showed up, the number of outfits would only increase. I might even be drugged and dragged to a shopping mall while unconscious.
If so... this was the best option.
"I'll wear it..."