Chapter 3 - The Plan
The Plan
Translator : Elizabeth
Chapter 3. The Plan
Junggye-dong. A daldongne (moon village) attached to the foot of Mt. Buram.
To be precise, it's a place called Baeksa Village. Nicknamed the last moon village in Seoul, it's a shantytown formed starting in the 1960s.
Where I live is at the very top of it. A semi-basement of a small house that you can barely reach after climbing up steep stairs for quite a while.
Monthly rent: 200,000 won. No deposit.
One room, one bathroom. The kitchen is nothing more than a gas stove placed in one corner of the room. It smells of mold, and in winter, drafts leak in.
However, for the current me, there was no place better than this.
Because there are few chances to run into people.
Since the alleys are narrow and steep, vehicles couldn't enter. Large discount store delivery trucks could only come up to the entrance of the neighborhood. So it was also a place delivery drivers avoided.
I ordered most of my daily necessities online.
Early morning delivery, regular delivery, even same-day delivery. Mobilizing all possible options, I tried my best not to go outside.
In the delivery request field, I always wrote the same phrase.
—Please leave it in front of the door. I wish for non-contact receipt.
Ding-dong—.
The doorbell rang.
I quickly threw on a thick padded jacket. It was early December, but I wore clothes thicker than that. I pulled my hood down deep and covered the lower part of my face with a scarf.
Looking in the mirror, it was to the level where only my eyes were barely visible.
“…This should be enough.”
I caught my breath and opened the front door.
Two delivery boxes were placed in front of the door. The delivery driver was rushing down the stairs, seemingly in a hurry. Fortunately, we didn't run into each other.
I quickly picked up the boxes and came inside.
Just as I was about to close the door, I felt someone's gaze from the crack of the door across the way. It was a middle-aged woman. She was sticking her head out and staring intently at me.
“….”
I closed the door without saying a word.
Bang—.
Staring strangely was natural. Coming out from inside the house wearing padding, with a hood pressed down, and face covered—it would be strange not to find it odd.
It didn't really matter.
Whether that woman reported me to the police or gossiped with the neighborhood people, things like that had no meaning. Since there would be no direct contact with me anyway.
‘If the police really come… I'll just have to bear that much.’
It was better to be branded a strange person. Then people would keep their distance on their own.
I opened the box.
20 cups of ramen, 10 packs of retort curry, 5 bundles of canned food, 3 bags of frozen dumplings.
And snacks, chocolate, bread.
“…I bought a lot again.”
A sigh came out automatically.
The problem was appetite.
16th century, the prison of Bamberg. I starved to death there.
Clutching my empty stomach without being able to swallow even a sip of water for several days, I collapsed on the floor and died. Listening to the screams of people being tortured, amidst the smell of rotting blood and flesh, I slowly lost consciousness.
That memory was too vivid.
Perhaps because of that, after returning to the modern era, I couldn't control my appetite.
When I got hungry, fear rushed in. The fear that I would return to that darkness again. The feeling of my throat burning, the pain of my stomach twisting.
So I ate. I had to eat when I could. Because I didn't know when I might starve again.
I opened the refrigerator, and it was full of uneaten food. The freezer was packed with frozen foods. Like a squirrel preparing for winter, I was stocking up endlessly.
“…Like this.”
I checked my bank account balance.
“…3 months.”
tapping on the calculator, 3 months was the limit no matter how frugally I spent.
After that?
I had already quit my part-time job at the convenience store. I couldn't do work where I had to have contact with people. When receiving money handed by a customer, when passing an item, if the person at that moment harbored an impure heart?
‘Even if it’s one in a thousand, one in ten thousand, it has no meaning. If it happens even once, it’s over right there.’
With intense sparks and spewing smoke, they would turn into salt and crumble away.
That sight….
That incident would happen again.
I become a murderer, and in that moment, my life ends.
“I have to earn money from home.”
There was no other way.
“In the end, is there only one answer….”
Working from home. In other words, work I can do at home.
Fortunately, I knew a little bit regarding that.
“Back then, I judged it wasn't even as good as a convenience store part-time job, but….”
Since I was an orphan, I had no family from the start, and after graduating high school, all shallow connections were naturally cut off. As you can tell just by the fact that I live in a daldongne, I was living a very impoverished life.
To be honest, that situation must have been one of the reasons I accepted the god's proposal without hesitation.
“Customer service is, as expected, impossible.”
Within the scope of what I investigated, it was the most stable job. But it was an option I excluded because it required communication skills. Since it was a work-from-home job I looked into because I had issues with communication, it was truly nonsense.
‘Just because it’s now… I don’t think I’ll suddenly communicate well.’
The next things I thought of were data labeling and online surveys.
Data labeling was work outsourced by specialized IT companies for AI learning data inspection, etc. Online surveys were, well, exactly what they sound like.
‘Those are… the unit price is too low. I’d probably barely be able to cover food expenses. Let’s put them on hold for now and consider them if a side job is needed.’
Now two remained.
Content creation and translation.
Options I gave up because they required professional skills.
But now….
‘Tarot reading and foreign languages. In either case, what I possess are abilities above average. This has sufficient possibility.’
In the first place, the reason I became interested in Tarot was that I was looking for material to upload to YouVision.
And foreign language ability, this is….
‘The language I use is not of the modern era.’
It was a fact I learned in the process of retracing traces of the past, but 16th-century German and French had significant differences from the modern ones.
This was a problem you could know just by thinking a little.
If the current language is like this, the language of old is thus.
So, can I not work as a translator? If asked.
‘Absolutely not.’
Rather, this was a plus factor.
Even a German couldn't read 16th-century literature without receiving specialized education. But conversely, knowing the language of the 16th century, I could quickly acquire modern German. Because the direction in which the language developed is so.
However.
‘I’m not a graduate of a translation graduate school, so I have to take a roundabout way.’
Translators didn't exactly have a certification with public confidence. Therefore, to get work, reliable specs were needed, which were academic background and track record.
So, having no academic background, I had to create a track record.
‘German and French still need to get used to the modern versions. So….’
What remained was Latin.
Latin was a language that stopped changing after losing its function as a mother tongue around the 6th to 8th centuries. There was no big difference between 16th-century Latin and modern Latin.
‘Let’s try consistently uploading translations of religious or academic books to a blog. However….’
That is too slow.
In any industry, what’s important is recognition. I decided to utilize a cheat here.
Click.
I tried taking a selfie as a test.
Even within the crude composition and shabby attire, the shining appearance stands out.
‘Directly facing people is difficult, but if it’s only online, it should be fine.’
Having finished thinking, I immediately created an account on Rollbook. It’s a social media platform created by an American named Martin Zuckerberg, inspired by school attendance books.
‘Upload translations on the blog, and promote with Rollbook. With this appearance, surely I can receive a lot of attention.’
For now, it seemed one decent plan had emerged.
However, quite a bit of time would be needed to accumulate enough track record to use as a portfolio.
Therefore, another plan to earn money in the short term was also needed….
“Streamer, shall I try it.”
I know.
This wasn't a way to earn money in the short term. It was also a path that required communication skills even more than a customer service agent.
‘But right now, the most certain ability I have is exactly Tarot reading. To read fortunes without facing people directly, this is the only method that comes to mind.’
Still, this power was clearly in a realm surpassing common sense. It means there is a possibility, in its own way, to overcome realistic problems like communication skills and growth time.
“In that sense. Let’s divine the possibility once.”
At the same time those words ended.
Flash—!
Along with a brilliant light in my head, a single card descended.
Hope. Possibility of the future. A light that is still far but definitely exists.
It signifies the correctness of the direction one is heading rather than a guaranteed success.
[THE STAR]
Star.
‘It shows the hope one can have only when reaching the end, not a clear result faced when taking this path.’
The choice is.
“You mean it is my share.”
I could fail.
I could succeed.
However, the fruit existing at that end will surely be valuable.
Just like that star in the sky.
The card asks me.
What will you do?
‘Is it a crossroad… of choice.’
I could toss this result and look again for a clearer divination.
But I felt it intuitively.
That if I did that, I would lose something incomparable.
“Fine. With this level of ability, acting like a coward would be a funny thing too.”
I laughed refreshingly and chose the path to move forward.
Then.
As if praising me for that.
A reward was given.
The ability had grown.