Space Elf, Master of Manual Labor
I slip out of Lee Se-hee's mansion, climb up Namsan, descend to the Han River banks, and weave through back alleys. These aimless nighttime wanderings are just the best.
The night view of Seoul from the top of Namsan looks like stars scattered across the ground—quite the sight. The lights from the bridges reflecting off the Han River's surface are pretty beautiful too.
Then the sky starts changing color. The eastern horizon shifts from black to navy, then to pale purple. Dawn's breaking. The morning bells are ringing. A new day dawns.
I hum the tune to myself as I exit the alley. It's a song I remember from my human days, one that used to play a lot on some radio station. The melody fades at the end, so my little thought-kids pick up from my mental world.
[It's the Saemaul bell!]
[Mhihihi♪]
[Let's work hard!]
[Mhihihi♪]
Hmm. Why's the chorus "mhihihi"? And all the lyrics are about labor. Terrachad would hate it.
Early morning sunlight filters between the buildings when suddenly, I sense something. My Outer God Girl Sensor—what humans call radar—picks up a familiar ping. Very faint, but my hair twitches at the unmistakable presence of someone I know.
To be precise, anyone I've touched leaves a subtle trace only I can detect. My hair senses it.
[It's marking!]
[Cats do it too!]
The little thought-kids meow like cats. The signal's coming from... over there. A construction site.
It's early, but the site's already buzzing. Trucks dump gravel, workers in fluorescent vests hustle about. Someone I know at a construction site this hour? Now I'm curious. Let's get closer.
I shift to slime form, flatten against the ground, and slither over silently. I slip under the site fence, weave through rebar and material piles without a sound. Perfect stealth. Unghihi.
Oh, there she is. Atop a steel frame, about 32 meters up. A girl in a hard hat and fluorescent vest squats on an H-beam. Blonde twintails poke out from under the helmet, swaying in the wind.
Jenica. She lowers her welding mask and presses the welding rod to the steel joint. Tsssseeeek. Blue sparks erupt. Tack welding—what humans call temporary fixation for structures.
Hmm, doing it without any tools. Normal human welders use a level to check vertical and horizontal alignment first. One mistake and the building collapses. But Jenica doesn't touch any gear. No spirit level, no plumb bob in sight. Is that the fabled Bio-Goniometer?
She finishes, lifts her mask, taps the joint, and nods in satisfaction.
"This is within 0.03 degrees error, right?"
The day-labor uncles watching from below gape in shock.
"K-Kim! Grab a level over here! She did this by eye alone!?"
A stubble-bearded uncle yells, and another fetches a level, placing it on Jenica's weld. Oh, it's true. The bubble sits dead center between the lines.
"Nailing vertical by eye from this height without tools!? This girl's no ordinary rookie! Come to our team tomorrow for sure!"
The uncle pulls a canned coffee from his cooler and hands it to her. Ahh, the day-laborers' lifeblood, Let's Be Coffee. Prices are up these days—5,000 won a can—and he's giving it free.
"H-hng. This is basic for a Kepler-442b native, so no need for praise. But I won't say no to a gift, right?"
Jenica smirks proudly and sips the Let's Be Coffee.
"Sweet. Warms the body right up, you know."
She likes it. True site essential. I sneak a lick of her emotions. No more musty mold from when she huddled in bed, no damp, sticky sadness. Now it's like a sun-dried blanket—fresh and fluffy.
Good to see. She's adapting well.
The bespectacled thought-kid chimes in with details.
[Kepler-442b folks can sense electromagnetic waves with their skin, so they read verticals and horizontals via field tilt. Add their agility, and they're perfect for high-altitude work.]
True enough. Kepler-442b has advantages over humans. A space elf, master of manual labor. Impressive.
While watching, the sun climbs high. Warm rays hit the site, construction noise halts—lunchtime.
Jenica descends and heads to a sunny corner. Someone's already there. Whoa, wild getup. Fluorescent vest like all workers, but a ridiculous wig on his head, white-and-red clown makeup on his face. Red nose ball, exaggerated red lips. A clown? Why's a clown doing day labor? Everyone here has a story, though.
Jenica sits naturally beside the clown. They know each other. The clown sets a pot on a gas burner, boils water, adds yellow noodles and powder soup. Spicy aroma wafts over. Ramen. Three packs worth.
The finished ramen goes into bowls, handed to Jenica. She twirls noodles with chopsticks, blows, and slurps. Slurrrp. Her golden eyes curve into crescents.
"Wise Uncle, your ramen skills are beyond imagination, right? Eight times tastier than cup noodles, you know."
"Haha. I eat ramen three meals a day—naturally."
Jenica stuffs her mouth with noodles, gulps broth, and lets out a satisfied Ahhh~. Eating well. Nice to watch.
Hmm, that clown next to Jenica... looks familiar. Maybe not just some sob-story uncle.
[Been bugging me too...]
The bespectacled thought-kid adjusts his glasses.
[That guy's the threat entity from TV when we first joined the Agency. Nasdaq crashed 25%, dropped to Giga level—]
Oh, that? Vaguely recall hearing it while channel-surfing.
[—but now he's not even Kilo. Stocks tanked more, got weaker.]
Yikes. Bad investor? Anyway, not dangerous. Chowing down ramen and chatting amiably with Jenica—leave 'em be.
They finish and chat idly.
"So, miss, with your week-six-days 1.5x pay savings, what's the plan?"
The clown gulps water and asks. Jenica sets down her disposable bowl, ponders. Golden eyes glance skyward, then down.
"Ultimate goal's returning home, right? But that needs a ship... too distant. So first, carve out a comfy life, you know."
"Got a plan, then."
"Citizenship first. As a refugee, options are limited, right?"
Jenica ticks off fingers.
"And escape this dorm. Free, so no rent, but..."
"Wait, free housing in this brutal world!? Why leave? Cling to it!"
The clown startles, baffled. Fair—Seoul real estate is insane.
Jenica shrinks back. She glances around, lowers her voice like there's bugs everywhere.
"...A terrifying presence haunts the dorm nearby. Visits every single day."
Huh? Who scares Jenica? At the Threat Management Agency? Ah, definitely Yeom Hana. She's wary of her since day one. Agency staff mentioned bad blood.
[Doesn't seem right... anyone can see—]
I brush off the bespectacled kid. Silly. Only human scaring Jenica is Yeom Hana. Han Min-seo and Lee Gyu-rin are familiar now, Oh Deok-hwan's fat but sharp. Oh, speaking of—has he slimmed down? Swapped his lunches and dinners to carrots and broccoli daily. Hope it worked. If he succeeded, gift him that crit-rate 15 game from my room. Otaku like him will joy-run to the ending, no sleep, no breaks.
Meanwhile, the little thought-kids debate the "Agency's scary visitor."
[Who's the terrifying daily visitor at the Agency?]
[Yeom Hana!]
[Shin Chang-seok!]
[The scary operations chief!]
[Chief's not human!]
[But didn't it say "existence," not person?]
[Ahh!]
My bet's Yeom Hana. She doesn't descend to B41 daily, but Jenica's so scared it feels like it.
[Absolutely not Yeom Hana, though...]
The bespectacled kid shakes his head, but the little ones already unanimously agreed.
[Yeom Hana forever!]
[Red one's the scariest!]
Perfect—unanimous. Satisfied, I refocus on reality. The clown shows Jenica his phone. Screen shows red-blue bars graphing up and down. Stock app.
"See this? Need independence cash? Make it in stocks. Sweating for cash in inflation era's for losers!"
"Is that so...?"
"Yup! Check this chart. Company ViceCamO passed phase 1 full baldness cure trials—stock doubled in a week. Phase 3? 20x profits easy!"
Jenica's eyes lock on the upward curve. They just sparkled. She's hooked.