Chapter 6
A single credit card glinting between my fingers. A plastic scrap with less than 200,000 won left on it. But in this world, it was no different from a magic wand.
I'd already scoped it out at the convenience store. These idiots didn't even know how to swipe a card—they just handed over goods for free. They only remembered the form of actions, which made them ripe for the taking.
"What if I went for something expensive?"
Lifting my gaze, my eyes landed on the luxury watch brand Orexs store. The kind of place that sold timepieces worth more than a house. Without hesitation, I pushed open the door.
The store manager greeted me with a Joker Smile.
'Hey? You demon bastard?'
I returned a perfect Joker Smile of my own. Among them, expressions were language, and silence was the law of survival. The moment you spoke, the cops would haul you off for body-snatching.
My eyes shifted over the glass cases. Orexs Nightna Platinum—875 million won. A symbol of wealth, the crystallization of desire. A bold 42mm diameter with a black ceramic bezel. A three-dimensional moonphase display and a deep blue dial embedded with diamond particles that evoked a starry night sky.
'Perfect.'
With trembling hands, I picked up the watch. Its weight pressed down on my wrist. My heart started pounding wildly.
I slipped the perfectly fitting watch off my wrist, placed it on the counter, and tapped it twice like I was giving an order. The gesture that said, I'm buying this.
Gestures were the language the human brain understood best.
And I handed over the card with its measly 200,000-won limit.
The manager's Joker Smile deepened. Even in his hollow eyes, a flicker of joy at selling something pricey.
My heart thundered. What if I get caught? The worry was fleeting. The manager took the card and mimed swiping it on the reader. Then he carefully packed the watch into its case.
'This is insane... Is this really working?'
I got the black paper bag and my card back. With one Joker Smile, I'd scored over 875 million won worth of loot.
On the way out, I flashed the demon bastard another Joker Smile.
'Thanks, demon bastard!'
I'd conned the demon bastard and bagged the watch! My heart felt like it would burst. The thrill of pulling it off. A tangle of emotions washed over me.
Was this theft? No way. If the world had gone like this, the currency economy had collapsed. The manager hadn't lost a thing—no need to quibble over winners and losers.
I pulled out the watch right there and strapped it on. The sensation of the Orexs Nightna Platinum hugging my wrist. It hit me like equipping a legendary item in an RPG.
Yeah... this was just like a game. New rules, new gameplay—survival among the demon-possessed shells.
'Choosing human brains was your fatal mistake!'
I did the same at a Gunel luxury clothing store, picking up some threads. The staff just mimicked their old routines. That was all they knew how to do. Maybe it was their way of learning humans.
I became the first customer in the empty Gunel store, breathing life into the place. As I entered, the staff rose with Joker Smiles.
It made sense there were no other shoppers. Hardly anyone hit luxury spots for repeat buys on the regular.
My near-maxed-out card turned into an Amex unlimited black card. Black T-shirt, cashmere shorts tracksuit, Italian leather sneakers... Dressed to the nines, I actually looked the part.
Money was king, after all. No more changing at home—I could just buy new outfits and wear 'em. This was straight honey. No laundry needed. I'd heard American rich influencers lived like this.
Armed in luxury, I stepped out onto the street.
'Whoa, this feels good.'
Flash a Joker Smile, stay silent, and they pegged you as one of them. Simple pattern recognition. I didn't panic, so I survived. The pastor did, and got his body jacked.
Right then, BMW, Mercedes, and even posher—Bentley showroom—caught my eye. Luxury dealers always clustered together.
'Got the fancy watch, might as well grab a fancy ride?'
SNS was full of flex shots pairing luxury cars with luxury watches.
'Why not snag a Bentley while I'm at it?'
Fancy watch called for a fancy car. Even if the host-guest dynamic was flipped.
200k-limit card for a Bentley this time.
'Demon bastards, I'm above you!'
My observations were solid. Demons or not, using human brains put me in control.
I strode into the Bentley showroom. True to its class, the scent of freshly baked bread welcomed me—nutty and inviting. That baked aroma was wallet-opening magic... professionally, the Proust phenomenon, one of the limbic system's triggers. Scents evoking fond memories.
'Oh? Gotta use that myself.'
The Bentley showroom was serene, classic BGM adding to the calm. The suit greeted me warmly with a Joker Smile. I fired one back.
I felt way more at ease now. Proven it with the Orexs and clothes.
There it was—the top-of-the-line Bentley in my sights. BGX2090, the car of my dreams. I marched right up to the high-end sedan. Price tag: 12.1 billion won. Plus tax extra. Insane. That was Gangnam apartment money.
I planted myself in front of it, staring down the suit. Don't speak first. I gave a leisurely Joker Smile, like I want this.
The suit rushed over, unleashing a torrent of gibberish.
"Innovationprice modelapartmywifehasanaffair"
"Mercedesnightmarestabbingheartmadebank"
Pure nonsense, of course. Just raw Broca's area output—no meaning processed.
Stoic-faced, I extended the card and lightly slapped the BGX2090. The I'm buying gesture. Then a Joker Smile at the suit.
If he could talk, I couldn't. That was my read.
The suit Joker Smiled back. And I caught it—he glanced at the gleaming Orexs Nightna Platinum on my wrist.
'Not all demons are total idiots.'
The suit's Joker Smile beamed with joy at offloading a high-end sedan. My heart raced. Looked like I'd drive out in a Bentley.
The suit gestured somewhere. Then she appeared, stealing my entire field of vision.
A woman in a black dress. No—"woman" didn't cut it. She warped space-time with every step.
Ohhh... a goddess? The [4,4,0] floating over her head barely registered—my eyes locked on her midriff.
The deep-plunging dress exposed half her ample breasts. No bra, apparently—her nipples faintly tented the fabric into twin peaks. Her pale tits gleamed like polished marble.
Click. Click. Her heels struck the floor in rhythm, her breasts bouncing elastically like they were dancing to the beat.
Insane. Who wears a dress that tight at work?
My mouth went dry. Blood rushed south.
She approached, and I couldn't tear my eyes from her cleavage. One upside: no side-eye for ogling.
Whoa... Her face hit me, jaw dropping on autopilot. Tiny face, sharp nose, huge eyes and lips. Perfectly groomed brows—not green ones. Beauty so intense it hurt to look at, hard to meet her gaze. National treasure-level stunner—eyes spinning. If looks were power, she'd be president.
But her eyes were vacant, expressionless like the rest.
Below her breasts, a name tag clung desperately to the cliff edge: Han Areum.
A name that begged to be worshiped. Pure perfection.
Bentley was infamous for hiring only knockout women. Women's groups picketed, demanding they stop beauty bias. Brand value synergized with model beauty—the marketing of all luxury.
Why Pink Banny idols were ambassadors.
Han Areum fit Bentley like a glove—peak allure.
And yeah, I was hyping her because... she was that gorgeous. Demon in a goddess shell? My crotch stirred anyway. Twenty-nine-year-old Korean stud—normal reaction.
Her Joker Smile. Honestly, that was the saddest part. A babe like this, demon-possessed.
Han Areum took the card from the suit, exchanged Joker Smiles, and headed off. To "process" payment, obviously. Like at Orexs, she'd fake it and return it.
The suit guided me to a table, whether he knew or not. He plunked down papers—supposedly contracts.
"TrashdisposalimpossiblePhilipinesNiagara"
"ACshaggingdistributioncenterlikeskimpicklessex"
Calm-toned gibberish as he handed me a pen. Stone-faced, I signed where he pointed.
Of course, the "contracts" weren't. Prints of Han Areum's personnel file and pay stub.
The suit couldn't tell the difference.
'You guys can't even read?'
My brain-learning hypothesis checked out. He was just replaying his routine: sales pitch, close the deal.
These shells mimicked cerebellum-stored actions. All based on past data. Kinda pitiful, demon lives.
But my heart pounded for a different reason. A 12-billion-won Bentley was about to be mine!
I eyed the "contract" again. Han Areum's intro sheet, burned into my cornea like a seal.
They couldn't read. Let's see... Han Areum, monthly pay? 11.2 million after tax. Wild. Annual around 130 mil? Fitting for this gig.
Hillstate Ridge Apartments, Building 101, Unit 1001. Prime Gangnam spot.
Pretending to review the contract, I scanned her bio.
Twenty years old? Younger than I thought. Skin that good—no wonder. Her killer rack had me pegging late-20s/30s.
[Born into poverty... Top of Korea University... Scuba and golf hobbies... I'll work hard.]
Huh? My junior. Even the convenience store clerk was. Our nerd-heavy school occasionally spawned miracle stunners. Most went straight to showbiz.
'Why you? With looks like that, why a desk job?'
She matched Bentley perfectly. What if I made her my woman?
Screw demons and ghosts—focus on the beauty. Pathetic mimics, right? Easy to manipulate her actions.
I signed the "contract" and Joker Smiled. Suit offered a hand—I shook lightly.
Satisfied Joker Smile, he led me to the delivery bay. Smooth sailing.
Heart racing the whole walk. My high-end sedan awaited. Elegant, hefty Bentley.
The suit patted my shoulder gently.
"Customerthatsyourcarjealous."
Gesture meaning payment cleared.
Apartment-priced beast was mine. Cool exterior, screaming interior.
V8-worshipping War Boy vibes—fingers steepled, yelling Remember me! But 12-cylinder muscle-sedan hybrid!
Embarrassing, but my dream was just a test drive. Never owning one like this.
"Carportdoubletaxi bus subway no"
"HanAreumcrushmarriedmanstalkingokay"
Suit bowed 90 degrees. Routine complete.
I Joker Smiled and nodded back.
Wait—keys? My card?
Right on cue, Han Areum approached with a Joker Smile. Blue card in one hand, red key fob in the other.
"Red pill or blue pill?"
She wouldn't say it, but her approach felt like the question.