Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: I've Turned into a Girl!
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The tips of my fingers touching Yurie turned white.
The girl in the mirror was trembling just the same.
I closed my eyes, then opened them. I pinched my cheek and twisted, then slammed my fist into my thigh.
"Ow!"
It hurt.
It stung, it throbbed.
It felt like my pain resistance had been cut in half or less.
'This isn't a dream.'
A fuse snapped in my head.
What should I do?
How?
Ottoke?
Fuck.
I'd laughed at those SNS posts saying women only knew how to say "ottoke."
But experiencing it myself? Not even a chuckle.
Was it because of this body?
My thoughts weren't processing right.
I stood there blankly for a long time, sorting through my mind.
First things first, work.
I had to report in.
There was still that important meeting summary to finish today.
But calling wouldn't solve this.
'Ottoke for real.'
Even my voice wasn't mine.
Should I just barge into the office?
'No.'
A sturdy guy in his twenties turning overnight into a 149cm petite beauty?
[Hello, it's Proxy Han. Woke up and got hit by a TS beam. Haha.]
If they didn't treat me like a crazy bitch, I'd be lucky.
And with silver hair to boot.
They'd think it was some cosplay prank.
I drew the curtains.
I locked the front door.
I pulled the blanket over my head.
That was how I fled from reality.
Fled, and kept fleeing.
Believing time would fix it.
Fix my ass.
Nothing had changed.
Rustle―
The sound of plastic packaging tearing filled the quiet room.
Crumple, crumple―
"Haum..."
Tuna mayo triangle kimbap.
'Enjoy the magic of 1300 won together!'
This body's owner.
Han Seo-ah liked tuna mayo.
Whenever ordering from Coupang, I'd unconsciously grab this.
I nibbled at the kimbap like a hamster.
Munch, munch.
The rice sliding down my throat was pure bliss.
Why bother with tonics? Just eat tuna mayo.
"Haa...."
So tasty.
But halfway through.
My solar plexus felt clogged, suffocating.
My stomach was rejecting any more food.
"Ha, this body pulls every damn trick."
I set down the half-eaten triangle kimbap.
Just half a piece.
Back in the day, I'd polish off two kimbaps, a cup ramen, and a hot bar, still smacking my lips.
Now? Gasping over this fist-sized lump.
I was full.
This cramped stomach was hitting its physical limit.
I rubbed my lower belly and leaned back against the bed headboard.
Trash from the past month littered the floor.
Empty water bottles, shriveled cup ramen cups, kimbap wrappers.
The last 30 days.
I'd holed up in this tiny studio like a corpse.
First few days, bawling my eyes out. Next few, denying reality. The rest, staring blankly at the ceiling.
'Me, castrated...!'
Why me?
A question I'd mulled over thousands of times.
Was I some web novel troll?
No.
I was the loyal sucker who'd comment "Just give pretty PVs!" even on shitty game BM.
I swear I'd never submitted a 30,000-character thesis whining "This character lacks plausibility."
By possession story clichés, you get dragged in for pissing off the author or mocking the work.
"This is so unfair, seriously."
I was innocent.
If anything, my crime was dumping my salary into gacha.
If that's a crime, half the mobile gamers in the world deserve hell.
'Or maybe similar names?'
Han Seon-woo. Han Seo-ah.
If souls swapped over a few consonants, Korea's admin system would've crashed ages ago.
'Han Seo-ah's a game character to begin with!'
No reason.
Just rotten luck.
Like getting pick-drilled by 0.0001% gacha odds, cosmic misfortune nailed me.
I picked up the smartphone rolling on the floor.
Fingerprint unlock brought up a familiar yet alien screen.
Flashy icons filled the home screen.
---
-Destiny Grand Order
-Blue Record
-Origin Heaven
-Saint of Victory
-Hoof Girls
.
.
.
.
.
Scrolling sideways, no end in sight.
Dozens of game apps sprawled across four pages.
"Crazy bitch...."
Every glance made me curse.
I fancied myself a solid gamer, but original Han Seo-ah was another level.
Isn't the national rule one main game, one or two subs?
This woman clearly spun gacha every waking moment outside eating and breathing.
And among those countless icons.
The one I'd desperately sought was missing.
[Gate Override].
Geora for short.
No hits on app store or Google.
Of course not.
This was the game world.
In a world where the game became reality, hunting its app was like searching for "Earth Simulator" in real life.
One month.
Enough time to etch my situation into my bones.
I wasn't Han Seon-woo anymore.
I was Han Seo-ah now.
And this was a beamingly bright Korea crawling with monsters and hunters.
"Hoo...."
Chest tight, I unzipped the hoodie.
The collarbone in the mirror was stark.
This body was too frail.
Canonically F-Rank Hunter, but clearly worse than a normie.
Awakening boosts physical stats, but this one seemed stunted from side effects—growth plates closed, muscles shrunk.
Habitually, I opened the banking app.
[Balance: 94,500 won]
The number drew a hollow laugh.
"Ruthless, just ruthless."
Identical to my pre-possession account, down to the digit.
Parallel worlds or whatever.
Or god's balance patch to screw me.
Small mercy: Hunter Association dumped 400,000 won monthly as "basic subsistence hunter support."
A social consensus payoff to stop useless F-Ranks from emigrating or turning criminal.
Last month, I scraped by gnawing that.
But limit reached.
House was owned, no rent, but even online shopping was iffy now.
Can't live off triangle kimbap forever!
Wait, chicken mayo might be okay...
'No!'
I shook my head wildly, yelling inwardly.
"Gotta go out."
I bit my lip hard.
Can't live as a room-bound Lü Bu forever.
If I didn't want to croak as a shit-eating parasite, time to move.
I staggered to my feet.
Opened the closet.
Clothes? All hoodies or tracksuits.
Han Seo-ah's taste or hikikomori uniform—who knows. Perfect for me now.
Dresses would've killed me with shame before stepping out.
Pulled on the baggiest black hoodie.
It fell to my knees like a dress.
Hood down low, mask on.
Full armor.
Mirror showed a suspicious kid (20).
"G... go."
Grabbed the front door handle.
Cold metal bit my palm.
Since becoming Han Seo-ah, my resolve weakened.
A little courage stopped the hand tremors.
Beyond this door: real world.
An alien setup not my room, unknown mechanics.
Hunter world teeming with monsters.
Breath quickened.
Just head back in?
Tomorrow?
No, next week...
Weak thoughts chained on.
But rallied courage beat the fear.
'Do it! You're capable!'
Door opened, blinding light flooded in.
"Ack."
I reflexively shielded my eyes.
Skin prickled.
Sunlight like lasers scorching flesh.
'No vampire traits, right?'
Seriously pondering, I ducked into the shaded hallway.
Good, no incineration.
Just overreacting from long confinement.
Legs wobbled down the stairs.
Out the first-floor entrance, world's stimuli stabbed me.
Motorcycle whizzing by made me flinch.
Chatter, horns, buzzing signs scrambled my brain.
Info overload.
World too loud.
Head down, shuffling feet.
Destination: Hunter Association branch.
Three subway stops away.
Walk to station, ride, exit, walk again...
Mapping route, I hung my head.
'Can't.'
Impossible.
My current nerves? Collapse on subway stairs.
No, couldn't handle the stares first.
Silver-haired cutie.
Masked or not, standout looks.
Stomach churning.
Murmurs, curious glances like arrows.
Finally, halted under a roadside tree after 100 meters.
Breath to my throat.
Cold sweat soaked the hoodie to my back.
"Haa... haa...."
Passersby eyed me with concern.
Hikikomori.
Paper doll.
Flatfish.
Any label fit.
Trembling hands pulled out my phone.
Taxi app.
[Estimated Fare: 12,500 won]
Fingers froze.
Ten kimbaps.
A week's groceries vanishing for 20 minutes one-way.
No choice.
Collapse here? Ambulance fees worse.
"......Hoo."
Tears welling, hit call.
Three minutes later, yellow taxi pulled up.
"Where to?"
"Hu, Hunter Association... Gangnam Branch."
Mumbled into the corner, curling up.
Felt the driver glance via rearview.
Truant elementary kid?
Runaway teen?
Misunderstanding either way.
I was a 28-year-old sturdy... no, sturdy at heart adult.
Or at least a pathetic 20-year-old nutcase woman.
Taxi rolled, meter climbing madly.
100 won.
Another 100.
Running horse graphic blinked faster than my heartbeat.
My precious blood money.
'Uwaaaah!'
Scenery whipping by? Blind to it.
Meter numbers: my whole world.
'No signals, please. Please.'
But mocking my plea, red lights at every intersection.
"Man, traffic's bad today."
Driver's casual remark stabbed like a dagger.
Arrival: 14,800 won.
2,300 over estimate.
Card-holding hand shook.
"Kid? Gonna pay or not?"
"...Here."
Payment alert.
[Balance: 79,700 won]
Front digit flipped.
Heart plummeted.
80,000 line breached.
Legs buckled exiting the taxi.
A massive glass building loomed imposingly.
[South Korea Hunter Association Gangnam Branch]
Entrance: armored folks, greatswords slung on backs, streaming in and out.
Amid them, the 149cm hoodie gremlin looked like a lost bunny in a monster den.
I bit my dry lips.
Throat parched, stinging.
No turning back.
Need a job!
"Hoo."
Deep breath out, stepped toward the revolving door.
First, check my status.
'Gotta know what's in Han Seo-ah's body.'
Just an S-grade shell on an F-Rank dud?
Or game-worthy cheat powers?
Need certainty.
To do anything.
The revolving door felt heavy.