Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Different from Each Other
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She was,
small in stature.
But she was one tough cookie.
- One eyeball. That's the item I'll pick. And crank the odds as high as possible.
Without a moment's hesitation, she switched her grip on her white cane and groped with her other hand until she found the gacha handle.
She slipped in 500 won and gave it a turn.
Dr-r-ruck! Clunk!
A capsule tumbled out.
She looked tense.
Her eyelashes fluttered over her closed eyes.
Slowly, she opened the first capsule and ran her fingers over the braille, reading it gropingly.
A moment later,
a flicker of surprise crossed her face.
- Pinky finger...
Snap!
With a chilling sound, the pinky finger tore clean off her left hand—the one clutching the capsule.
"Augh!"
She bit down on her arm to muffle her scream.
She unzipped her bag and doused the wound with pre-prepared disinfectant, then unwound a bandage and wrapped it with practiced ease.
"No way... she's gonna keep going after that?"
I was dumbfounded.
Having finished her first aid, she didn't back off—instead, she fished out another 500-won coin and slotted it into the handle, ready to turn again.
"For real?"
Dr-r-ruck! Clunk!
Another capsule dropped.
She hesitated just a bit before groping for it, picking it up, and cracking it open.
- Burning pain...
Huh?
- Nghhh!
She clutched her slender shoulders and dropped to the spot. As if trying to shake off invisible flames, she writhed and twisted her whole body.
Her small shoes scraped wildly against the floor until they came loose, and with her clenched, contorted hands, she groped and brushed at herself desperately, squeezing out the agony.
After three full minutes of torment, she finally steadied her breathing.
- Hah. Hah.
Even in the midst of it, she hadn't collapsed—she endured right there on her knees.
Her sweat-drenched T-shirt clung to her curved figure.
- Whew...
As she rose, blood dripped steadily from the sodden end of her bandage. All that thrashing had reopened the pinky stump.
"Hold on! Hey!"
Forgetting she couldn't hear me, I shouted anyway.
Because with that bleeding hand, she was turning the handle once more, cracking open a third capsule.
She read the braille, froze, then let out a deep breath.
- Cane...
"Cane?"
She groped around until she found the machine's input slot and fed in her white cane.
Now empty-handed, she staggered unsteadily.
"You damn gacha piece of trash!"
I yelled before I knew it.
This was too much. She was already tiny, and yesterday it took her ear—today her finger, burning agony, and now even her companion cane?
My head spun.
What the hell had I created?
Why were the penalties hitting her so brutally?
And yet,
even in that state,
she didn't stop pulling.
Dr-r-ruck. Clunk.
Fourth pull.
Crack—
As she fingered the braille slip inside the capsule,
- Ah.
Her face went stark white.
- One kidney...
What?
Thud.
She collapsed to the ground, pale as a ghost.
Shoulders hunched, wheezing faintly—maybe from the hollow void where something inside her had vanished.
She clutched her belly, cold sweat pouring down her face in rivers.
- Tomorrow... gotta come back tomorrow...
What the—?
Tomorrow? After losing her ear, finger, and now a kidney?
She staggered to her feet.
Sweat and blood drops pattered beneath her feet, leaving dark speckles.
One hand cradling her belly, no cane, she groped her way out of the alley with the other.
Under the blue morning sunlight, the gacha machine stood alone in the alley, its monitor lights flickering.
And,
fade to black.
"Haa..."
I slumped down.
The afterimage of her retreating back lingered, refusing to fade.
Those striking scenes replayed on loop, swelling my guilt.
Were ghost stories just that—ghost stories?
Symbiotic ones with humans?
My hands trembled as I stared at the 1-million-won stack I'd earned so far. Crisp bundles of fresh 50,000-won bills.
Come to think of it, yeah.
How else could a 500-won machine rake in a million in a week? And it was restocking its own prizes, too.
That cash... wasn't it all born from brutal penalties when I wasn't watching?
Could I swear none of it came from stolen body parts?
Then what was I?
Any different from a crime boss raking in tribute from organ-harvesting thugs, calling it "mutual aid" and "symbiosis"?
My stomach churned.
Her precarious silhouette flashed back unbidden.
If she died like this. Because of me. Lured by the ghost story I made.
"Gotta stop her."
But how?
I didn't even know where "there" was.
"Where? Where the hell is it?"
Frustration boiled over.
What the fuck. I made them, but they vanish wherever they please. I don't know where. They do whatever. Might as well be a ghost story spawning ghost stories.
Self-loathing.
Self-recrimination.
"Where are you!"
As it all bubbled up and finally exploded—
"Huh?"
A pop! at my forehead, like cool liquid flooding in, and suddenly a bizarre sensation hit.
"What is this? Sniff sniff. Not a smell. Not a sound. But... I feel it."
Direction. Distance. Signature.
Far off, two presences. One small and sharp, the other big and flashy.
I knew instinctively: the Responding Bear Doll and the Rational Gacha Machine.
Where they were—faint as a scent, but unmistakable.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next day.
I left home before dawn broke.
Riding the subway with early commuters, I reached a quiet neighborhood alley where,
"It's really here."
The big, flashy capsule gacha machine stood bathed in morning light.
Beep— beeping tones—
As if recognizing me, it blared machine noises, monitor and bulbs flashing wildly.
My feelings were a tangled mess.
The ghost story I'd made that day was really here, manifesting elsewhere, diligently playing its ghost story role.
Pride? Fear? Worry? Curiosity?
Like some special Willy Wonka treat, a whirlwind of emotions danced on my tongue.
And the one that tumbled out at the end?
"It's really here."
Just those four words.
The stark reality hit home.
Making my guilt all the heavier.
Since the machine was really here, her ear really had been torn off. Her finger really yanked. Her kidney really gone.
Right here.
Tap. Tap.
Then, a woman approached, tapping the ground with an umbrella.
My breath caught.
Bandaged ear matching her face.
Left hand similarly wrapped.
Staggering, feeble steps.
It was her. The one I'd watched through other sights these past two days.
She'd shown up here at first light.
Tap tap.
Umbrella leading, she drew near and caressed the gacha machine.
Her fingertips lingered longest on the "One Eyeball" prize.
They trembled. Hesitating? Regretting?
She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then bit her lip and whipped out a coin. Slotted it, turned the handle. All before I could even shout to stop her.
Dr-r-ruck clunk.
She groped for the fallen capsule.
Crack!
She stroked the slip inside and smiled. No way?
"1 million in cash. Yeah. Knew a penalty like this was coming."
She rummaged in her crossbody bag and pulled out a fat wad of bills.
"Here. 1 million."
Shoved it straight into the slot without a second thought, then reached for the handle again.
I couldn't hold back anymore.
"Hey!"
"Kyaa!"
Her small frame hopped up like a startled chick.
"Who? Who's there?"
Blind folks had sharp ears, huh.
She pinpointed my position in an instant and faced me squarely as she asked.
Her eyes were open. Low on pigment—yellowish tint unusual for a Korean, but pretty. Just unfocused, pupils drifting off-kilter.
Her blindness might be a nerve thing, not the eyes themselves.
I glanced briefly at the bandage over her ear.
It hurt.
Deep inside.
"You should stop. You're gonna get hurt bad."
"Who are you?"
Her voice dropped a notch. Like, mind your business. But I couldn't.
"Seems like it's for your eyes. But an eyeball's just an eyeball. Won't restore your sight on its own. No guarantee it'll even transplant, or that you'd see if it did. You know that better than me. You already have eyes... And! Even if it works, you gonna take it to a hospital and ask for a transplant? Won't they trace where it came from?"
Yeah. Truth was, I didn't get why she was so obsessed from the start.
That eye? From the guy the Responding Bear Doll killed. I stocked it myself—knew it too well. One DNA test, and bam: prime suspect in a freak murder case.
I tried to persuade her gently.
"You've already lost so much. Ear, finger, kidney. Who knows what next. You could... die."
The woman went quiet for a bit.
Gazed my way, then slowly shook her head.
"No. This isn't just any eyeball. If I pull this, I'll see. At least one eye. Definitely."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I just know. It's certain."
Come to think of it,
she'd mentioned it felt like schizophrenic conviction.
I gritted my teeth and glared at the gacha machine.
Innocent as ever, it just flashed its lights.
"And I think this is rational."
"Huh?"
Her words blanked my mind for a second.
Rational?
"Yes. Rational. I've been blind since birth—never seen a thing. I don't even know what people mean by 'seeing.' My dreams are all sounds and touches. I've never known it, and I never will. What light is. What colors are. Why they're called beautiful. How others spot everything from afar like superheroes. If I don't pull this eyeball here, it'll be like that forever."
I was speechless.
A life untouched by light.
A pitch-black world, ignorant of color even in dreams.
I'd never imagined it.
"My life's only half of everyone else's. I go without a whole chunk of the world. So? Is that bad? No! It's not."
Couldn't tell if her voice was angry or excited.
"Not seeing has upsides. I listen sharper, smell sharper, touch sharper—and the world shares its wonders that way. But. So."
Her voice grew damp.
"What is seeing like? More vivid, colorful, sharp than touch or smell or sound—what kind of world is that?"
I had no words.
Froze solid on the spot.
She turned from me back to the machine.
"That's why it's rational. If I can see, losing an ear, a finger, a kidney—it's trading for half the world. Worth the gamble. I'm grateful, actually. To the machine. To its makers, the manufacturer KEH."
She slotted 500 won and turned the handle.
Dr-r-ruck
Clunk.
I held my breath,
watching as she lifted the capsule, twisted it open, fingered the slip inside.
"Ah..."
A sigh escaped her lips.
Her shoulders and brows sagged.
"I got it..."
What?
"Augh!"
She clutched one eye and staggered.