Infinite Cheers for Death and the Young Lady
Infinite cheers for Death and the Young Lady. …………… The problem is——what gift to give her.
A conference of thoughts kicks off in my mental world. How should we help Jeong Ah-reum? Any ideas, guys?
Methods to skyrocket physical specs in one go? Rejected. We settled that when gifting Lee Se-hee. Getting strong with a snap kills the romance.
No to tweaking brain glands for chemical boosts of grit and courage either. That'd be no different from Will Bates. Hmm, tough call all around.
Either way, I can't just leave this girl hanging. If the balance between Oseong and Mirae crumbles, the playground called Korea—where my attachment humans live—goes to hell.
And above all——I glance at Jeong Ah-reum licking her ice cream. Frowning at the tofu flavor yet delicately tonguing the cone. I like this girl. Gotta help her, right?
A way that doesn't directly empower her or control her with drugs. ——You guys ready?
[All set!]
[Just say the word!]
[Let's lift this girl up!]
Good. Let's ignite some fighting spirit for Death and the Young Lady.
A single strand of hair, drawn out to nanometer thickness, slips delicately between the capillaries of Jeong Ah-reum's pale forearm. The tip travels up the brachial artery, past the clavicle and neck, to the cerebral cortex surface.
[Here we go!]
[Hold those films tight!]
[Don't drop 'em, no matter what!]
A squad of pint-sized thoughts, fresh from their send-off in the mental world, marches up the hair strand single-file. Backpacks stuffed with projectors and film reels. A few even packed snack bags—probably for themselves.
The gift I'm passing to Jeong Ah-reum? My memories.
Yeom Hana spewing red afterimages to face down Terrachad.
Han Min-seo, on the verge of killing to survive, inheriting the will of the previous magical girl Magical Sakura and choosing non-lethal takedown.
Lee Se-hee training relentlessly to grow even a fingernail's worth stronger against encroaching death.
Cheon Jung-sa—now Sia—throwing her life away like a weed to avenge herself against those bastards.
Karen luring the mohawk thug to save the Outer God girl before her, risking death.
All of them lived fiercely, strove hard, achieved their goals, and overcame massive crises. And I watched their vivid lives closer than anyone.
The little thoughts reach the center of Jeong Ah-reum's cerebral cortex and get to work. The tiny guys whip out projectors, slot in the memory films I handed them, and start spinning.
[Test, test!]
[Focus good?]
[Showtime!]
Jeong Ah-reum's hand freezes midair, cognac glass to her lips. My memories are projecting into her vision.
Right now, she's probably seeing Yeom Hana trading blows with Terrachad overlaid on her reality. A bizarre overlap—gotta be disorienting.
“……What is this, little Outer God……?”
Her gaze locks on empty air, voice drifting my way. Meanwhile, the projectors keep rolling. Yeom Hana to Han Min-seo, Han Min-seo to Lee Se-hee, Lee Se-hee to Sia. Faces she probably knows. Moments when my attachment humans defied limits and threats, etched straight into her brain.
Lick. I taste Jeong Ah-reum's emotions. Confusion. Slow-dawning understanding. Then something like shame. Finally——disgust and anger.
“……Little Outer God.”
She slams the empty cognac glass on the counter.
“Do you think I haven't tried? Is that why you're showing me these memories?”
Oh dear, she's pissed. The elegance in her gestures is gone.
“I've tried too. Harder than anyone. To the point of death!”
Her formal speech cracks in the heat. Right now, she's not Mirae Group's chairwoman or drill-haired Death and Young Lady—just a massively wronged person.
Hmm, got it. Sorry, but the little thoughts accidentally nudged her memory shelf while setting up the projectors.
[Wasn't on purpose!]
[Tripod slipped!]
Yeah, yeah. Enough excuses. Anyway, per Jeong Ah-reum's memories:
Mirae Group sticks to the polar opposite of Oseong's succession. Oseong picks one talented, legitimate heir from the family and positions the rest as supports. That's how Lee Se-hee smoothly took the chairwoman seat.
Mirae's principle? Reminiscent of a certain Greek conqueror. Only the strongest claims the throne. Failed direct heirs get purged at worst, stripped of wealth and demoted to sidelines at best. Succession wars rage until the undisputed strongest sits.
That's Mirae Group. In that hell, Jeong Ah-reum endured bone-grinding pain since preschool.
Her life was a battlefield from the womb. Family rule: only the strongest ascends; others purged. Proving strength was survival.
Young Jeong Ah-reum knew it well. Strict etiquette for top heiress. Vast knowledge. And——overwhelming martial prowess.
Private gym packed with cutting-edge gear. Pubescent Jeong Ah-reum stands before the squat rack, barbell weighing multiples of her body loaded up.
Coach's shout echoes as her knees bend slow. Thighs quake, but she holds. Beastly groan leaks through gritted teeth; she fuels up and rises.
In that brutal routine, one thing made her happy: pro wrestling. Not practical MMA like Lee Se-hee—why pro wrestling? Memory doesn't say. Probably a kid's TV whim.
But pro wrestling ain't easy. Scripted or not, you tank full-power moves with no dodging—pure body conditioning.
Maybe that's why she endured the hellish training.
Ugh. Etiquette, knowledge, force—all at expert level. Mirae's culture: biggest hexagon stats win leadership.
No doubt Jeong Ah-reum busted her ass. Fact.
But right now, one key difference separates her from my attachment humans.
Jeong Ah-reum senses the gap too. Flushed cheeks and furrowed brow soften from grievance; realization spreads.
“……Ah……I see. So that's it.”
A soft sigh escapes her lips.
Yeah. Glad you got it yourself.
Yeom Hana, Han Min-seo, Lee Se-hee, Sia, Karen—from her view, the “little Outer God's favorites” faced crises head-on. Minor foes to certain death.
Jeong Ah-reum? Pre-concluded defeat against her uncle, never even tried—just sat.
Didn't notice before, but per little thoughts: this drill-haired girl is an awakener. Ability niche, useless daily—probably ignored it.
But in specifics? Vs. non-Peta like Will Bates or Leon Dusk, S-rank level holds up.
Her real lack? Just confidence.
So here's my gift. Infinite confidence.
The projectors the little thoughts installed in her brain—tiny as neurons—will whisper cheers nonstop.
[You can do it!]
[You'll win!]
[Death and Young Lady are invincible!]
24/7, 365, lifetime. Even if she thinks she can't, she'll lose, it's hopeless—the cheers replay, memories push her back up.
Like the frost greatsword turning a rookie prince into a mighty rich king.
So stand, advance, fight, win, return.
I'll cheer your struggle till the universe ends.
She can't hear my monologue, but she reads my intent.
“……Ha. Comparing me to others. Such a shallow ji chang ji gye.”
She downs the last cognac straight from the bottle, straightens her disheveled hanbok collar.
“But backing down now proves I'm a coward.”
Slips on her discarded shoes, perfects her hairpiece.
“Fine. Watch me. I'm Superhuman Pro Wrestling World Champion and Mirae Group chairwoman. I won't go down easy.”
Hmm. Leading with pro wrestling champ over chairwoman. Does this drill girl treasure the belt more?
She buzzes the intercom for the waiting maid.
“Yes, miss.”
“Fetch back that android maid fixer who just left. Tell her we have unfinished business.”
“As you command.”
Prep for the show done. Once-called Korea's Mushin vs. Superhuman Pro Wrestling World Champ girl.
Real combat arts vs. pro wrestling. This'll be fun.
Heh heh heh.