Chapter 60
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Believe in Magic
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The weekend passed in a chaotic blur. After hearing Yun Suah's story, Oh Hana and Han Aebom went out of their way to be extra considerate toward her. Yun Suah told them not to overdo it, flashing a kind smile and saying it actually made her feel burdened.
"Take care."
"Ah. I need to head out a bit early today too. It's snack restock day. Might as well read a book while I'm there early."
Monday morning. The two women, up bright and early, stepped out of the one-room apartment for work. I had no clue until then. More accurately, I hadn't grasped how someone who'd carried guilt toward their family for 26 years—ever since birth, when the illness started—had managed to live.
Truth be told, I hadn't properly gauged the depth of those years. Because it wasn't me who was sick. I'd vaguely assumed it couldn't be that bad. But then.
"Yaaawn, I think I'll sleep a bit mo—"
Thud.
A heavy sound echoed.
I turned my head left, wondering what it was, and my heart plummeted. Yun Suah had collapsed, her face a ghastly shade that anyone would find horrifying.
"Suah!"
"……."
Her breaths came in faint, wispy rasps—sss, sss. Her stamina was so depleted she couldn't even draw air properly, let alone deeply.
Her body was ice-cold, yet sweat poured from her nonstop. Cold sweat. Her complexion, bluish-white turning ghostly pale. Her frame trembling pitifully.
"Uh, uh."
The sudden crisis blanked my mind. Even so, my body moved on reflex, snatching up my phone. Oh Hana? Han Aebom? 119? Mom? Dad? Damn. In that split second, faces of everyone I knew flashed through my head.
Ironically, I felt grateful for mandatory education right then.
"Suah, we need to call 119 right—"
"W-wait… just… a sec… Hyunwoo."
The moment I uttered "119," her eyes snapped open—despite barely being conscious moments ago—and her feeble arm reached out to grab me.
"…Cough. I'm fine. No need for 119."
"But—"
"H-hospital… won't help at all. I… know that best."
"……."
Even a simple cough made her look so pained as Yun Suah spoke.
"C-could you… lay me on the blanket?"
"……."
I nodded to her request, but my hands trembled faintly as I reached for her. Fear crept in too.
What if lifting her like this only made it worse? Still, I wasn't some scared kid—I gritted my teeth, scooped her up, and gently laid her on the blanket.
"Haa. Haa."
Even with the boiler cranked to max since she started living with us, tiny puffs of frosty breath escaped her every exhale.
It hit me just how wrecked her body was.
"Suah. Hospital, even now—"
"No. Nooo…."
Her voice fading to a whisper, Yun Suah shook her head feebly.
"Really, cough. Really, hospital's no use. For real… it is. Just… let me lie here… and it'll pass."
"……."
Her stubbornness left me torn between dialing or not, my mind in turmoil. Cold sweat beaded on me too.
Seeing it, her gentle eyes narrowed further, almost fluttering shut.
"…Sorry to freak you out over nothing, Hyunwoo. Truly."
My heart lurched. A storm of emotions surged and ebbed in my head. She sounded like death was knocking any second. Or maybe… I seemed oddly detached from the idea of it.
I tried pinning blame somewhere, wondering why it worsened so suddenly… then froze, breath catching.
It wasn't sudden.
"Ehehe. I… really hate… that look."
Even her "hate" came out so softly. That was Yun Suah. And she'd endured that "overly worried, terrified" expression for a full 26 years. Since infancy.
Babies' memories are shaky, sure—but don't they say even womb memories stick around?
I let out a deep breath and ventured carefully. Testing her.
"Why… pretend you're okay?"
"Hehe. Too grateful. And I told you. I… really don't like that look?"
Her answer turned suspicion to certainty. I never knew. This pure-as-can-be woman rivaled Hollywood actors in acting chops. At least in feigning nonchalance—she outdid them. Damn it.
"Hyunwoo. I've… seen it 26 years straight. No clue from what age. Since super young, every adult makes that face at me. That weird, off-putting one."
"……."
"No need to watch other kids. Peeking from afar. Parents beam at my siblings. But I step in? Faces flip instantly."
She shut her eyes. A single tear trickled down.
"This. It's like magic. Really. Hehe."
Magic, my ass. Her face screamed curse, loud and clear.
"Tough, huh? Hyunwoo? Sorry."
"For what."
"Hiding it from Hana and Aebom forever… but showing you… this weak side."
I'm losing it.
For the first time, I tasted what her family felt. Despair, guilt, shame, regret—all of it.
This was pure nightmare fuel. Not some fixable illness. A family member with an untouchable disease? Felt like an actual curse.
"Hehe. Still, wanted to show a spoiled side maybe. Or act cute with you."
"Do it. Spoil more."
I gripped her hand tight, thinking. Family had it rough too—I'd just felt it to my core. Biggest shock of my life. Mom saying I'm not bio? Less jarring. Wait—scratch that. That'd shock plenty.
But the real sufferer? Her, without doubt. If she'd raged at the unfairness, lashed out, thrown fits—maybe. But no.
"Thanks."
Pretending casual even now. No way she was fine.
The more they worried, cared—the more suffocated she got.
That's why she bolted.
"Suah."
"…Yes."
She looked too weak to even open her eyes. Lips gone pale blue already.
"Believe in magic?"
"Hehe. Magic? Dunno. Wish there was. Guess I'm not innocent enough."
"Yeah? I believe. In magic."
[You have received the Elixir (Replica).]
The intent formed, and a tiny potion bottle materialized in my palm. If that's not magic, what is?
[The Elixir (Replica) is a degraded version of a potion containing the miracle of the gods.]
It shimmered like a bottled rainbow. Hard to tell if it was even liquid.
Clutching faint hope, I uncapped the bottle.
Pop!
The cheerful sound rang out, and Yun Suah's eyelids fluttered.
"Hyunwoo?"
"Shh."
I gently propped up her upper body, then—with her eyes still shut—tilted the elixir slowly into her mouth.
The gorgeous rainbow glow, liquid or vapor, vanished into her.
"Eh…?"
Her color returned in a flash, but she bobbed her head like she might drift off any second.
I chuckled at the sight, stroking her hair.
"Let's believe in it this once. Magic."
*
Guess I'll never turn into some devout fanatic.
'God's miracle, my ass.'
Long story short: the Elixir (Replica) didn't fully heal her. Absurd. Replica or copycat—supposedly infused with divine miracle—shouldn't it cure one person instantly?
Wonder if they sent a dud.
"Hyunwoo! Energy's bursting out of me! Bet I could hoist a 1.5-liter bottle right now!"
Watching her beam like that, it didn't feel like a scam. Still—like upgrading from a fragile toothpick to a dainty ice cream spoon. Both snap at a touch. Damn.
"Kyaaa! What's this? Body feels like it's floating. Never been this light in my life. Oh my gosh. Oh my."
She's deploying every exclamation in her arsenal, hopping around our cramped one-room with the happiest grin ever. How could anyone sigh at that?
Anyway.
Watching Yun Suah drives home how happiness boils down to mindset. Just hit newborn-level stamina, and she's thrilled.
'Born healthy is a blessing.'
Heard it a million times, never really sank in. Now it does. Gotta call Mom later. Thanks for the healthy delivery.
"Hyunwoo, Hyunwoo."
"Yeah."
Leaning against the wall. Suddenly, Yun Suah's face looms close. Wait—chest? Nah. Face. Why's her face so tiny?
"Hyunwoo?"
"Ah. Yeah."
Reflex kicked in—I raised a fist to her cheek. She flashed a beaming smile. Killer grin. If I were a virgin, I'd be toast. Lucky I'm not.
"Wanna hit me?"
"Huh?! No. Not even a little."
Heart skipped for a whole different reason. Hit her where, exactly? But somehow.
She looked a tad disappointed. Why?
"Hehe. Thing is, no clue how to thank you."
"I didn't do anything."
"You did."
Something soft squished against my chest.
Yun Suah had wrapped me in a tight hug, rubbing up against me. Damn. Felt insane from the back while carrying her—front view? God tier. Her chest pocketed divinity.
"To me, it's more miracle than magic."
Should've asked what I did. But zero hint—like it'd be too much for her. Mind-blowing.
"Exactly! Gotta thank you somehow."
Felt like refusing would drag it out. Better toss something casual and wrap it.
"If that's it, just a massage would be—"
Half-recalling some kid's massage coupon, I mumbled. She cut me off, yelling.
"I'll make you feel amazing with my boobs—plenty!"
That instant, my gaze dropped to her chest. Pure reflex.