How Much Do You Want?
It was early dawn.
Once again I left the house early to get to my part-time job. Careful not to wake my sleeping mother, I eased the door open and stepped out — only to find a woman waiting right in front of it.
"Hey."
She snapped the word at me in a firm, cutting voice. In a black suit, her long hair perfectly arranged and tied so not a strand could fall free, she looked at a glance like a polished career woman on her way to the office. Her face was pretty enough, attractive enough, that any man might have been tempted to fall for it…
But I knew exactly what kind of person she was, and I wasn't about to be fooled by the packaging.
"Ah. What."
I answered with an openly irritated scowl.
"When are you starting work?"
Starting work? What was she talking about? I was already on my way out the door for my shift.
"What the hell are you even saying?"
The words shot out of me on pure reflex, half from sheer disbelief. She didn't so much as blink. She just propped her chin on her hand and stared me down.
"You. You're working for me from now on."
"…?"
I was still standing there, dumbfounded, trying to process what kind of insanity I was hearing, when she went on.
"You're playing hard to get. How much do you want?"
She pulled a thick wad of cash from her wallet and tossed it straight at me.
"Is this enough?"
Bills rained down across the floor. I stared at them with a blank, empty expression.
"…Huh?"
Every last note scattered at my feet was a fifty-thousand-won bill. At a rough count, there had to be dozens of them. I scrambled to scoop them up and shouted.
"What the hell is this crap!?"
She only smiled, sly and unbothered.
"You picked it up~ So from now on, you're mine."
"Ha…!"
A hollow laugh escaped me at the sheer absurdity of it. She added, perfectly casual:
"I'll take care of you so well you won't have to worry about money. Don't stress."
This… yeah.
I was pretty sure I'd just gotten tangled up with a rich, completely unhinged woman.