Chapter 43
The moment I give permission to grab a bite before the movies, Lion ducks into a dark, empty alley corner. I'm kinda curious what this pathetic pervert plans to do in broad daylight.
She hides for a bit, then reappears transformed into her human form! Lion, in tight jeans and a sweater that hugs her curves, looks surprisingly beautiful—for a pathetic loser, that is. Only relatively good-looking, got it!
"Nngh, owww. Every bone in my body aches."
Lion stretches as an adult, and I hear her joints crackling—crack, pop.
"Eek... can you not make those crunching sounds? It hurts me just hearing them."
I have no idea why people like the sound of backs cracking or knuckles popping. I saw some YouTube videos about it—ASMR or whatever. Why waste time and money on such pathetic vids? It's a mystery on par with the Milletian problem. Isn't 24-hour continuous mesugaki degradation ASMR way better than an hour of knuckle cracks?
Lion twists her neck wildly, her head lolling side to side with more crunch, pop noises.
"But transforming takes a toll every time. If I don't loosen up, I really might die. The Doctor keeps saying I'll get used to it soon, but nope—not happening."
"Urgh... stop it already. Suck it up even if it hurts a little—for me, you pathetic loser. Can't you handle that much? Your patience is pathetic too♥"
"Shut up. You wouldn't get it unless you felt this pain yourself."
Hmph. Pathetic losers whine about trivial stuff like that. Me? I can hold back tears for a full three seconds even if I stub my pinky toe on the closet. That kind of pain is nothing to me♥
"It's just so fascinating every time. How does a cat turn human, anyway?"
I poke Lion's belly. Under her skin, I feel firm abs forming a perfect eleven-pack. I heard in that suspiciously rich-money Dan-gun myth that polar bears and lions ate lettuce wraps with garlic and meat on a sunny beach for ten days and became human. Maybe Lion's the same—pickled in garlic from all that kimchi over the years. Behold the power of K-kimchi...?
"You're thinking something weird again. I can tell—it shows on your face."
"Nuh-uh. I'm a total poker face."
We exit the alley together. It's late lunch hour, so the main street isn't crowded, just the occasional suit-wearing passerby. Quiet road, hardly any cars.
A short walk later, we find the cafe-slash-sandwich shop we planned on. They mainly sell coffee, but weirdly, the sandwiches are the star—way tastier. The wooden furniture gives off a nice, cozy vibe.
"Not bad for a place a pathetic loser found."
We snag a window seat. I get the chicken sandwich; the pathetic cat gets BLT.
"Sandwiches done—wanna get coffee for dessert? Their coffee's good."
"Eww, coffee? I don't like it. Too bitter."
The Doctor chugs it daily, so I mooched some once. Wasn't as good as expected. I thought sweet drinks were her thing since she drinks it all the time, but bitter and sour? Why bother? Coffee seems like grown-up juice, but that's for newbie adults still saying "babygoo." Real adults like me, cool and composed, sip mint choco everything.
I order mint choco frappe; pathetic cat gets her namesake pathetic iced Americano.
Place is empty, so our drinks arrive quick.
"Here's your coffee order."
"Just leave it, loser♥"
One "loser" is tip enough.
I sip the ice-cold mint choco frappe. Thick and sticky, it hits with sweet coolness exploding—chocolate bliss meets minty freshness. Best drink ever. Anyone calling it "toothpaste" has pathetic taste buds.
"Mmm, delicious. Mint choco reigns supreme."
But why's Lion ignoring her coffee, fiddling with her phone?
"Pathetic cat. Why aren't you drinking?"
"It's nothing. Some annoying magical girl issue—gotta handle it."
"Hng? On a festive, joyful day like today? Want me to whip her ass?"
Pathetic magical girls go down with one lash.
"Festive and joyful? What do you mean... no way..."
Lion asks with flushed cheeks. She must be thinking the same as me!
"Duh! What a great day—I, Tyranno, finally get a phone!"
Declaring today Phone Birth Day—make it a national holiday via court order.
"Oh... right. The phone. Yeah... sure. Phone-buying day is great, yeah."
Pathetic cat's face screams disappointment. Eyes downcast, she chews the straw like it's personal.
Hmm, what's her deal? My genius brain ponders, but no answers.
"Nah, it's fine. Handled the magical girls with some idle kids—no worries. Anyway, movies? There's a theater nearby—decent one."
Movies, huh. I'd rather phone-shop first, but a flick after ages ain't bad.
"Anything you wanna see? How 'bout that melo flick? Recent hit—true story of Korea's top 1% chaebol heir and bottom 1% mesugaki love. Based on Seven Stars heiress's life, fully backed. Super fun."
"Hmmm... not feeling it."
Melon movie? Probably 'cause melons everywhere. Chaebol melons and mesugaki melons in love... pass.
"I'd rather explosions everywhere—action flick. Like a robot dinosaur ridden by a triple-transforming car robot spewing fire, battling with giant spear and shield."
Dinos, robots, triple shift—perfection. No other film like it.
Coffee done, no reason to linger. Off to the theater—a massive six-floor multiplex. Glitzy lights sparkle; huge posters line the walls.
"Pathetic cat, this one? 'Real Clementine Girl's Return.' Sounds fun just from the title, right?"
Definitely a banger. My eyes never miss a gem.
"Nah... no. That one's... obviously lame. Who pays for this? You'd need therapy after."
"Shut it, loser. I'm watching this!"
Instant vibe check—poster's hilarious. Hit!
"This one!"
"Why this... agh. Seats are full. No can do."
Full from the poster? Magic. I glare, but no "sold out" sign. Loser vision only?
"Really? Where's it say?"
"Anyway, yeah. All sold out. Can't help it."
"Then wait!"
"Huh?"
Cup ramen needs three minutes after pouring—heart races anticipating. Same here.
"Longer wait, bigger payoff maybe."
"Nope. If no, then no. Starts long once it does. Can't."
'Real Clementine Girl's Return' scrapped. Settle on 'Nonopia Game' instead.
Film about non-daily-updating authors, no-sequel writers, no-side-story guys, under-200-chapter hacks in a deadly murder game. Might be fun? Whatever—catch later at home.
Timing perfect; buy tix, enter auditorium.
Grab large popcorn, two colas. Seats: perfect mid-center, not too front/back.
"Whoa, lucky. Exact two center seats left—like reserved. As expected, I, Tyranno, destined for greatness unlike losers."
Even lukewarm water has left/right. I sit first as boss; lower armrest for pathetic Lion.
"Careful sitting, Lion. Mess up and you fold like a sandwich."
I struggled first time—chair buckled, spilled snacks, flailed like a mangled starfish. Mortifying...
"I unfold safe, snag prime seats—all thanks to me."
"I booked them orig—whatever. If you like, fine."
"Right? Grateful? Hand over popcorn then."
Snatch her box—huge, huggable. Hehehe, mine now.
Munching popcorn, ads roll.
"Pffft! Who falls for that pathetic hype anymore?! Right, Lion? Lion?"
Does the pathetic cat lack manners? Texting in a dark theater.
Sigh. Losers gonna loser.
"Starting now."
Ads end, movie begins. Pretty fun. Not 'Real Clementine Girl's Return' level, but decent for loser fare.
Seeing a non-daily author traverse rebar between buildings and plummet? Hilarious.
"Kukuku. Writes one chapter a day? Sleeps?! Writers grind 24/7 for 12-streak 'common sense,' duh?"
Grab popcorn handful—throat clogs. Need cola. Huh? Where's mine?
Argh! Perfect timing ruined! Fizzy gulp would've cleared it blissfully.
No choice.
"Lion. Lion."
"What? Bathroom?"
"You drank my cola. Gimme yours."
"...Here."
Pathetic cat hands hers over. Natural order—mine's mine, hers too.
Sip—throat clears instantly. Would've drained it, but I'm nice: leave ice.
"Here."
Return ice cup. Lion slurps non-stop after—thirsty? Kinda sorry, but hey, I took bad soda, gave healthy water. Saintly!
Back to movie.
"I was wrong! I... I committed a mortal sin! I'll... I'll become a dog! Woof! Woof woof!"
Chowing popcorn as evil author who NTR'd pure-love ending gets NTR'd by Gold Sun, wails. Chef's kiss.
"Kuku. That guy, and the under-200-chapter hacks canned underground—total losers♥ Pfft♥"
Popcorn munching's fun, but arm aches from labor. Doesn't suit my delicate hands.
"Lion. Lion."
She's slurping straw like mad.
"Slurrrp, slurp, suuuuck, lick lick... what?"
"Arm hurts. Feed me popcorn."
".....Fine."
Lion grabs tub, feeds kernel by kernel. I open wide like baby bird to mom bird.
"Ack! Kek!"
She misjudges distance, fingers in mouth often—but minor slip, forgiven.
"And... I... am... Nobel-chang...!"
Purple-haired protag Nobel-chang snaps fingers, halves stock of true villain 'Joapia.'
But now... movie blurs. Full from popcorn/cola? Sleepy... eyes heavy... yawns nonstop...
"Yawwwn... mnya... mnyaa..."
So sleepy... wanna sleep... Someone grabs my shoulder... head on something firm... perfect...
"Sleep tight, Lion... wake me when movie ends..."
Huh... something weird on my lips... Nah, imagination...