Two Centimeters

The smell of fried chicken and grease clung to every inch of me, so the first thing I did was shower.

I didn't even bother drying my hair. I dropped onto the bed in nothing but my underwear, grabbed my spare phone, and opened the Sex Coin app.

Fresh out of the shower, my Sex Coin Value had dropped one point from what it had been before — 198 down to 197. The only things that had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠changed were my clothes and my hair. I was sitting here in nothing but underwear, so a single point of fashion damage couldn't possibly account for it. The hair had to be the problem.

The coins I'd mined with Seong Gaeul that afternoon were worth about 220,000 won. Subtract what I'd spent on the date and I was looking at roughly 190,000 won gone — which meant I'd cleared about 30,000 won in a single hour.

At the chicken shop I made 6,500 won an hour. I'd just earned more than four hours of that miserable work in one round of sex. And it wasn't like I'd had to grit my teeth through it with someone I couldn't stand. I'd done it with a woman as gorgeous as Gaeul.

Damn. This is the life.

I swallowed the urge to cash out on the spot and opened the shop instead.

The only thing I could actually afford right now was the Appearance Change Ticket — and that was exactly why I hadn't cashed out after sleeping with Gaeul. I'd been sitting on these coins on purpose.

It said it would change my appearance. I had no idea how that was supposed to work, but in every novel and comic I'd ever read, the body-transformation scenes always came with agony. I was doing this right before bed on the off chance I ended up crying from the pain.

Half anticipation, half nerves, I tapped purchase. The spare phone's screen lit up with a figure of me, the way a game lets you customize a character — except I was completely naked, rendered so realistically that I actually grimaced.

That's supposed to be me...? That's rough.

I'd never noticed any of this in the mirror. Seeing myself from a third-person view on a screen, though, every ugly part jumped out at once. The dusky skin and the belly spilling over my waistband were secondary problems. The real tragedy was my proportions.

Long torso. Short legs. People said that was just how East Asian bodies were built, but staring at it on the screen, I couldn't stand the sight of myself.

I wanted to change it immediately. I swiped around the display looking for an edit button and found nothing.

I wish my legs were longer...

The moment I pictured what I wanted to change, text flashed onto the screen. My legs had gotten a little longer. I checked the details on the side — height up two centimeters, listed now as 175 cm. I'd poured the entire ticket into my legs and they still looked short as hell.

Two centimeters per ticket?

Before hitting confirm, I poked around in other directions. I reshaped my nose the way a surgeon would. Tweaked the set of my eyes. Bleached my skin paler. Toward the end I even dragged my dick larger, then smaller, just to see.

Just like the Help section had said, a single Appearance Change Ticket couldn't deliver anything dramatic. The image shifted, sure — but the underlying mold stayed put. It felt like the kind of plastic surgery nobody would notice unless they already knew your face.

Yeah. Height first.

I fiddled back and forth and finally did what I'd planned from the start: I lengthened my legs. Before I hit confirm, I drew a long breath. Two whole centimeters of height. Even the growth spurts from puberty had been miserable. I had no idea what this was going to feel like.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tapped the button. Nothing happened. No pain. No sudden sense that I'd gotten taller. I stretched my legs out just in case they'd already grown, but there was nothing my eyes could actually measure.

Did it even work?

I couldn't exactly take my height at home, so I figured I'd at least check Basic Stats in the app and glanced back at the spare phone. That was when I finally saw the text sitting on the screen.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. No pain, at least. I shoved down the leftover worry that nothing would change at all and started running through the rest of my to-do list.

When I wake up I should text Gaeul... wait. We exchanged numbers and I never even sent a single message. And that morning-shift delivery punk has his eye on Jieun? At Christmas...

The thoughts trailed off into a jumble, and somewhere in the middle of them I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fell asleep.

I opened the app the second I woke up and checked my height. 175 cm, right there in black and white. I bolted out of bed and compared myself against the furniture.

I might be taller... or I might just be imagining it...

Two centimeters was an awkward number to actually feel. My Sex Coin Value looked identical to last night, which was a little disappointing.

I toed the computer's power button the way I always did, then went into the bathroom and lit a cigarette.

It's ten now, so I'll head to the OP around twelve to see Gaeul. Breakfast... ramen, except I swore I was starting a diet. Ugh, I don't feel like dealing with that. I'll just grab something light on the way. Then what do I do after the OP?

I had to be at the chicken shop at six. Even if I left the OP around two, that still left me with four hours of dead air. On a normal day I would've come home and killed the time gaming or browsing the web, but I didn't want to do that today. I had Sex Coin now. Sitting in my room playing games felt wrong.

"Ah, whatever."

Working out was probably the smartest move — but could I really have sex at the OP, hit the gym right after, and still make it to my shift? And if I was going to work out, where? What kind of workout? A gym? Was there even one around here?

I sat down in front of the computer with all of that still bouncing around in my head. The KakaoTalk window on the monitor reminded me I still hadn't contacted Gaeul.

Right. I'd never even told Seong Gaeul my name. I hesitated for a second, then sent something safe.

Three messages landed in a row, not a single space among them. Kids who'd grown up on KakaoTalk hit enter instead of the spacebar, apparently. Gaeul was exactly that type.

Once the chat with Gaeul wrapped up, I started browsing. I wanted to know if any of those Sex Coin ads were still floating around — and if they were, whether anyone had left a review. I searched until my eyes hurt. Nothing.

"All gone, huh?"

I gave up hunting for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠information on Sex Coin and found myself with an awkward stretch of leftover time. After some indecision I looked up gyms near the apartment — the kind with good equipment, a clean floor, plenty of pretty women, and a price that wouldn't hurt.

I showered to the clock and put a little wax in my hair the way I had yesterday. Working it through, I noticed how ragged the ends looked. It had been almost two months since my last cut. I added hair salon to the day's mental itinerary. I always felt better leaving the house with every errand already decided.

The first place I hit after walking out the door was the kimbap-and-soup joint right in front of my building. Close, cheap, and my usual fallback whenever I couldn't be bothered to cook.

I was working through a light order of kimbap — diet, I kept telling myself — when my phone buzzed. Gaeul.

Manager. That jogged something loose.

Right. I still need to pull cash.

I dug through my memory for the rates. One hour, one round: 130,000 won. Plus 50,000 for requesting Gaeul specifically, so 180,000. But I was thinking about booking two rounds today — I had things I wanted to test. Was that 260 plus 50, so 310? Or 180 times two, so 360?

No idea.

I'd be asking Gaeul for help anyway. Better to go generous — 400,000, tip included.

How the session count stacked. How high satisfaction could climb. What kind of sex actually pushed that number up. I was going to use this visit — and Gaeul — to pin all of it down for good.