The Sham Counselor Dreams of the Sunny Side (4)

"Not a place for civilians, my ass."

I chuckled, chewing on some dried squid legs as a dry snack.

"It's just your average dive bar."

I'd figured it was some super-secret hideout. You know, a hush-hush spot only for magical girls, or a VIP lounge kind of deal.

But nope. Reality was a totally ordinary dive plastered with graffiti on the walls.

If I had to pick something special, maybe the fact that it's in Sector 2, so the clientele's a cut above?

"Cheers—!"

"Drink up, drink up! We're getting wrecked tonight!"

In the shadowy corner booth, three women were drawing every eye in the place. Dressed in flashy club outfits, they were chugging soju like it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going out of style—a sight to behold.

Especially ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Park Min-jeong.

Acting all high and mighty in front of me earlier, and now? Wild filly off the leash.

Acting like she wouldn't drag me along. As if she didn't come here hunting for guys.

I nursed my soju from afar and pulled out my smartphone.

A blue radar swept across the screen. Targets: the two new faces at that table.

Let's see what kind of girls her friends are.

First up, the long straight-haired woman sitting across from her.

Off-shoulder blouse baring her shoulders, leather skirt cutting off mid-thigh. Every time she crossed her legs, the white skin peeking above her stockings was downright provocative.

Huh.

Relationship addiction. The octopus-leg dating type—managing a whole pond to feed her ego.

Means she cycles through guys like tissues.

One nasty piece of work.

Next.

My gaze shifted sideways.

This one had an intellectual vibe. Neat bob haircut, glasses that screamed "prim and proper."

But below the neck? Plot twist. Deep V-neck blouse with cleavage that rivaled Min-jeong's volume.

Though looks like she's missing a few screws up top too...

Hahaha.

"Kyaa~!"

No wonder—she'd barely touched the snacks, pounding straight soju shots.

Your standard drunkard—no explanation needed.

Alcohol addiction. Common enough.

But probably the most headache-inducing type. Magical girls have killer recovery, so their livers don't tank easy. But the hangovers? Brutal.

Picture that superhuman ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠physique swinging wildly in a blackout rage.

Min-jeong knew it too—soon as she saw Su-jin sloshed, she grabbed her shoulders and shook.

"Hey, Choi Su-jin. Enough already. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Lemme gooo... Tomorrow's Saturdayyy... And what's the point of work? Just fielding complaints againnn... Fuck this shitty world..."

"You're too far gone. Don't puke like last time, okay?"

"Who's drunk? I'm fine! Hic! Na-young, back me up~"

Su-jin appealed to Na-young across the table like it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a grave injustice. Na-young giggled, waving her chopsticks in the air.

"She's right, Min-jeong. We're just getting started... Cheers! You'd break our hearts leaving now."

"Not you too, seriously!"

"Come on, admit it—you're bummed too. We didn't even finish hearing about that guy you're crushing on."

"Hey!"

Na-young shot Min-jeong a sly, half-lidded look and wobbled.

"Round two! My treat! Heard there's a hot new bar in the next block over."

"Ugh, you crazy bitches..."

Min-jeong rubbed her temples with a deep sigh. She knew arguing was pointless.

In the end, the three staggered to their feet.

For regular girls, guys hitting on them right then wouldn't be weird—but

"Excuse me, ladies, care to join our table—"

"Sorry. We work for that side."

"Ah... S-sorry for the intrusion."

Magical girls are untouchable for normies. Not just the power gap—the drinking capacity alone is insane.

Mana alcohol, right?

Special brew for magical girls. Way higher proof than regular stuff, infused with mana to hit their brains directly. Good luck keeping up.

At least come prepared with an app like mine.

Not that I tagged along to try my luck. Nah, this was purely to hand out my cards to more magical girls.

They stumbled on stubbornly, hunting the next spot.

I paid quietly and tailed them. Parked at a nearby convenience store parasol, cracked a canned coffee.

They couldn't get into spots I couldn't anyway. Just wait 'em out.

And so—

One hour. Then two.

Streets emptying, signs flickering off. Boredom setting in when the bar door burst open, spilling out familiar silhouettes.

"Kyahahaha! Girl, you suck at singing!"

"Shut up! I was a karaoke queen back in the day!"

"Bullshit, you cracked five times last time."

Their faces were way redder now. Su-jin was draped over Na-young, dragged along. Min-jeong clung to the wall, legs wobbly.

"Guys... This time I'll show you. Karaoke! Karaoke!"

"Hell yeah! Time to shake some tambourines!"

"Ugh, seriously, I'm beat... Let's just go home..."

Min-jeong mumbled, but couldn't fight their energy. Dragged into the karaoke joint in the bar's basement.

I shut my eyes tight. Round two to three?

These bitches.

No choice. More waiting.

Finally, past 3 a.m.—

They tumbled out the karaoke stairs like ragdolls.

"Ughhh... Gonna puke..."

"Hey, Park Min-jeong... You okay...?"

"Dunno, head's splitting..."

Min-jeong dry-heaved against a tree. Su-jin starfished on the pavement. Na-young fiddled with her phone, barely hanging on, eyes unfocused.

No clue what they chatted about in rounds two and three, but I remembered the first bar's talk.

Min-jeong's crush. Yeah.

Perfect excuse. Just usable enough.

Thud.

I nailed the empty can into the trash.

"Ugh, I'm dying..."

The world spun like a top. Streetlights smeared like wet paint, blurring her vision.

Na-young stared blankly at Min-jeong clutching a tree, heaving.

"Ureeegh..."

"Ew, girl..."

She wanted to pat her back but gave up—might hurl first.

Su-jin was already flat on the ground, skirt hiked up exposing her thighs, sleeping like the street was her bed.

"Hey, Choi Su-jin... Wake up."

Na-young nudged her side with her toe. No dice.

"Haa, these idiots..."

Then—

Thud, thud.

Footsteps from the shadows. Na-young squinted ahead.

A shadow slipped into the dim streetlight glow.

A guy. Rocking baggy gray sweats.

Who...?

Drunk? Or hunter?

No worries. Even sloshed, they were magical girls. One normie guy? Easy.

"Drank a lot, huh."

"Huh...?"

Min-jeong halted her retching and looked up. Eyes went wide.

"Y-you...!"

"Yeah, long time no see."

"Whyyy... why'd yooou... comeee... Said yooou wouldn't foll-lowww..."

"Girls' night out, but least I could do is pick you up. Come on, up you go."

Na-young instinctively frowned. They knew each other, sure... but this guy looked sketchy as hell.

Him, a friend of Min-jeong's?

What the hell is this guy?

Na-young staggered forward a step.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"......"

"Touching my friend? Who do you think you are?"

The booze made her extra rough. The guy turned, eyeing her.

Messy hair. Eyes lazy yet sleazy.

Total thug.

Na-young's scowl deepened.

She'd first thought of Min-jeong's crush, but this? Miles from "professional."

Not even close—looked like a jobless punk chain-smoking outside a conbini.

"N-no, Na-young... It's not like thaat..."

"Shut it, Min-jeong. I'll handle this thug—"

"N-nooo..."

Min-jeong's face flushed beet red, blocking her path.

"Th-that guy I meentioned earlierrr... The one I knooow... We're... acquaintanceddd..."

Na-young blankly scanned him head to toe.

"This guy?"

"Y-yeah..."

"The counselor you mentioned?"

"...Y-yeah."

Lie.

Na-young's gut screamed alarm.

Counselor? Magical girl mental health pro? This slipper-shod sweats guy?

"Hey. Jeong Ji-un."

He nodded brazenly.

"Min-jeong wasn't picking up, got worried. You her friends?"

"...Yeah. And you're the counselor."

"Ah, she told you?"

"Then why the outfit? Just out for a stroll?"

Na-young went full confrontational. But Ji-un didn't flinch.

"Off the clock, missed Min-jeong, threw this on quick."

"Hmmm..."

"Na-younggg, stoppp... I askeed him to coome..."

Min-jeong clung to his arm. Hard to push with her begging like that, friend or not.

Her crush for real?

But this didn't match Min-jeong's type. She liked clean-cut, neat guys. Not punk-ass thugs.

"Anyway, I'll take Min-jeong home. She's wasted. I'll see her safe."

"Wha? N-nooo! I can gooo alone!"

Min-jeong flailed in panic.

"Oppa must be tired... I'm fiiine... Taxi..."

"Nonsense. Girl alone at night? Dangerous. I'll get you home."

"B-but."

"Come on. I'll grab a cab."

His grip tightened on her shoulder. Min-jeong shrank. Na-young's eyes sharpened.

"Hold up!"

Na-young staggered in front, blocking.

"Who said you could take her?"

"Pardon?"

"Haven't vetted you yet. Who knows what you'd do to our Min-jeong."

Na-young channeled her buzz into bravado. Truth was, she didn't want to let her go.

Obvious what'd happen if this guy took her tonight.

Not that she cared about hookups—just not with a thug like this.

Can't let Min-jeong get leashed by trash like him.

Nosy? Sure. Min-jeong kept protesting. Na-young stood firm.

...Why the hell is this bitch flipping out? Normally, a guy showing up to help boosts likeability, right?

In a way, he'd underestimated his vibe. Plan was boyfriend/crush act to network, or play hero to the drunks.

Shoulda dressed better?

Ugh. Fine. Time to pivot, tweak the impression.

Tailing Min-jeong was for more magical girl connections anyway. No point clashing hard.

"Na-young, right? Gotta look after your other friend too. Can't leave her on the street like that."

"Obviously..."

"I'll call a cab. All pile in. I'll take shotgun—no worries."

Na-young's lips twitched.

She was wobbly herself; handling blackout Su-jin solo? No thanks.

"Tch. Who said we're worried?"

Na-young snorted, hauling Su-jin up.

"Hey, get up! You're heavy as hell!"

"Mmm, more booze... Round fouree..."

"No more! Home!"

Ji-un stepped to help; Na-young swatted him off.

"I got it. Don't bother."

"Lemme help—she looks heavy."

"Don't need it. Touching girls without asking? You'll regret it later."

Prickly. Ji-un shrugged back.

Vroom—

Cab pulled up smooth.

"In you go."

He held the back door. Na-young glared, shoved Su-jin in, followed. Min-jeong hesitated, slid to the far inside. Back seat crammed with girls.

Ji-un hopped shotgun casual.

Na-young gave the address; cab rolled out soft.

A weird silence filled the car.

Except for one.

"Ughhh... Gonna hurl..."

"Hold it! Choi Su-jin! Puke here and you're dead!"

Na-young clamped Su-jin's mouth, fuming. Buzz raging, friends being pains, mystery guy up front grating.

Her eyes met Ji-un's in the rearview.

"......"

Na-young scowled hard, turned away. Side profile screaming displeasure.

This guy rubs me all wrong.

Couldn't fathom why Min-jeong hung with him.

What counselor acts like a sleazy punk? Speech, moves—all lowlife.

Maybe he has dirt on her?

Min-jeong dozed peacefully post-cab. But earlier? Her vibe was off—nervous, watchful. Crush? Yeah right.

Gotta check it out. For Min-jeong.

Na-young crossed her legs, tapped the front seat.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

Ji-un answered without turning.

"Counselor, right?"

"Yes."

"Affiliation? Officially registered with the Association?"

"Freelancer. Got the cert."

"Gimme the license number. Know someone there—I'll verify."

Aggressive. Interrogation tone, sharp as knives.

What a pain. Why so hostile?

Ji-un recalled—he was now a target for her corruption desire tweak. Never thought himself ugly, but got "thug" or "gangster" a lot.

Do I just not click with magical girls...?

This'd drag the whole ride. One slip, endless hassle.

Ji-un fiddled with his phone in his pocket.

Kim Na-young. Corruption desire: relationship addiction.

Relationship addiction. Craving constant opposite-sex bonds for validation. Pond management. Multi-dating. Queen bee.

Perfect test case.

His finger hovered over the Seizure Induce button. If right—

She'd chase relationship fixes... with him.

Worth a shot.