[What's therein life, just living as we live?]
[What's therein life, just living as we live?]
One week passed quickly. On Friday evening, we sat in front of the TV with Sion, holding a few snacks, and killed time watching ads.
"I hope it turns out well, right?"
"It'll turn out well."
"Why are you so confident?"
"Anyway, it'll turn out well."
Sion seemed to have done something behind my back. I wondered how she managed to pull in those connections during my two years in the military.
"Connections are like a spider's web; if you lift up the higher threads, the lower ones get pulled along."
"I don't worry about people connections—there are more bad ones than good, so having none is better."
Since I've caused a big mess, there are plenty of people holding a grudge against me in my network, but they're too weak to bother me, so I ignore them. Among transcendents like me, I still have a few solid connections—colleagues, relatives, and such.
Ah, the broadcast is starting.
"Since it's a food show, they'll probably air us second or third?"
"Probably."
I've seen it enough to know the routine: each episode is split into four topics, and food segments appear once in a while. The first and last slots are rare, so if we're in the middle, we're either second or third.
Sion fidgeted her feet while watching. Ah, my wife's feet are cute. No matter what she does, her small size makes her look adorable.
"Want to sleep after the broadcast? Tomorrow's a day off, so it'd be better to wake up early and play if we sleep early."
"I want to eat one ice cream before bed. My mouth feels greasy from the potato chips."
"You'll gain weight."
"Do you not like the chubby side?"
"No, if you gain weight you'll just get puffy, right?"
Sion has a small, slightly slim frame; even if she gains weight, she feels more puffy than bulky. Seeing a kid gain weight looks less like ugliness and more like healthy growth—nice to see. Maybe it's like grandparents feeding their grandchildren lots of food.
"I don't have any in the fridge... by the time the show ends, only convenience stores will be open. Well, should be fine—I'll go buy some after the broadcast."
"I'll go with you."
"You're coming?"
"If I just send you alone, you'll come back with red bean ice cream you could use as a weapon."
"I'm not just buying BBangBBang either—I'll get other flavors too."
"BamBam?"
"......"
Sorry for my old‑man taste!!!
I do like plain chocolate ice cream and such, but I prefer milder flavors. My favorites are fruit‑based ice cream or vanilla, while Sion likes hers loaded with chocolate. I like sweet things too, but a straight‑chocolate ice cream gets boring after two or three bites.
"Got it, let's go later... ah, it's starting. Is it our shop from the beginning?"
We got talking and before we knew it, the first segment ended and the second began. Our shop appeared right from the start, which surprised me a little.
[There's a chicken place that has captured the taste buds of Koreans as well as visiting Japanese and Chinese tourists—no one who's been there just once, and everyone who's been there once ends up coming back! We came to find that chicken place!]
Along with the familiar male narrator's voice, our shop was shown on screen. The sign was mosaicked, but honestly, that much is easy to find with a few searches nowadays.
The format was similar: just emphasizing customers' reactions and prices to highlight the gourmet spot.
It didn't run long—maybe about two minutes? Since they film multiple places per topic and only give each topic around fifteen minutes, our shop couldn't get a long slot.
Even though it was short, I was satisfied just to have been on air.
"I wish they'd feature us as a special on another program."
"It's fine—if more customers come than now, it'll be tough."
Right now I'm thinking about hiring another part‑timer, but if customer numbers rise, quality tends to drop. Usually, places labeled as famous can't keep the standard and end up closing.
I suddenly remembered what PD Jin had told me, so I brought it up.
"You know? This show is supposedly going to end sometime next month."
"Ah, is that so?"
"That's a shame. I've been watching it for a while."
It's true that even a meaningless object grows on you after ten years of use. Seeing a program I've watched for over a decade disappear makes the flow of time feel real.
"......Are you sad it's ending?"
Sion glanced at me to gauge my feelings. If I claimed to have connections, I could probably keep a show running by pulling strings, but I don't want to cling to it desperately.
"Anyway, everything rises and falls—you should leave when the applause fades, not cling when it's time to go. Anything that has an end is better for it."
Happiness has an end, but so does despair. Nothing in this world is absolute, so there's no eternity; everything ends, and that's what makes the world turn.
If this show ends, another will come along. Maybe that next one will be even more fun.
An ending exists to make way for the next thing. So when it's time to go, letting go is proper and polite.
"I don't really mind getting older or time passing, but I keep thinking about this every now and then."
I am a reincarnator. I came into this world empty‑handed and will leave empty‑handed, but the one thing I can guarantee is seeing Sion again in my next life. That's enough for me.
What I want isn't grand—I just need this little girl who fits in my arms.
If Sion were placed on one side of a scale, nothing I put on the other side would tip it, not even the lives of hundreds of millions.
Sorry, but even if I put Baek‑ri or my friends on the other side, it'd be the same.
While thinking like that and watching TV, the show ended. It was just past eleven.
"Let's go get ice cream!"
I smiled and headed out with Sion.
The area around our house is filled with relatively well‑off people, so it's usually quiet and hassle‑free.
The only inconvenience might be having to walk a bit to reach a convenience store. After all, there's no mart open at eleven unless it's a 24‑hour one.
"The night air isn't bad."
"It's a little hot because of the humidity, but it's fine without the sun."
"True. I wish summer would pass and autumn would come soon. When the humidity drops, it'll feel cooler. Plus, autumn has lots of good food."
Seasonal fruits, fish, and specialties are best eaten in autumn. For example, skate—there's a saying that autumn skate makes the seaweed fall like a bushel, and even a runaway daughter‑in‑law comes back when she smells it grilling.
I also like raw fish or seasoned dishes, but eating salt‑grilled skate from head to toe, then washing it down with a shot of soju, feels like heaven. I've never been to heaven, but...
After a short walk, a 24‑hour convenience store appeared right in front of us. We went in to get the ice cream Sion wanted.
"Welcome."
The part‑timer, looking tired and sluggish from the evening, gave a half‑hearted greeting—just a routine shop welcome.
Sion darted over to the ice cream section. Since she's short, reaching up was awkward, so I lifted her by the armpits to make it easier for her to choose.
"What are you getting?"
"Hmm... this, this, and this."
"All chocolate, huh? Then I'll take this."
I picked the orange‑flavored frozen treat. Chewing on icy fruit bits feels refreshing, and since it's a convenience store, the selection is smaller than a mart's. Most options are overly sweet, which doesn't match my taste, but there are still a few I can tolerate.
I also grabbed a few snacks and went to the register. The price was... well, convenience store prices are high. Just a few ice creams pushed the total over ten thousand won.
Is it because prices are high these days, because it's a convenience store, or both?
Stepping out of the store, the humid summer air hit us again. I don't suffer from the heat, but moods are affected—just the damp air alone raises stress.
"I'm thirsty—should we grab a drink over there?"
"Sure."
Near the convenience store there's a small playground built for kids. It's just a couple of swings, a slide, and a couple of play structures, but it's set up for resting, so it's fine for us to sit and eat ice cream.
"Ah, you bought a few more—won't they melt while we eat?"
"No worries."
I drew heat energy from Sion's ice cream bag. Handling the laws of physics freely is something I can do, so leaving them out for thirty minutes won't melt them.
Watching the kids play on the playground gave me a cozy feeling. The colorful equipment was faintly lit by the streetlights' glow at night.
Thinking back, I haven't ridden a swing or slid down a slide in ages—at least not in my memory.
"Want to give it a try?"
"Hey, the swing's broken. No way."
"How would a few adults breaking it happen just because they rode it? Even if three of you got on, it'd be fine—go ahead."
Sometimes I miss the carefree days of childhood when I could just go with the flow. I occasionally wish I could live without overthinking, but the path I've walked is long and I have too much to do to turn back.
I cautiously got onto the swing. It's a bit small for kids, but it didn't look like it would break or anything.
Sion gently sat on my knees.
"You had me try the swing just to do this, didn't you?"
"No."
"Yeah, right."
Having Sion on my lap while I swayed the swing felt oddly nice and romantic. The night was deep, the stars weren't visible, but with just the two of us in a quiet spot, there was an atmosphere.
...Actually, to an outsider it might look pretty bad—a shady‑looking adult man with an elementary‑school‑aged girl on his lap.
If civilization were a little less developed, this wouldn't seem strange—maybe even a customary early marriage. But in a society with good order, it's easy to misunderstand.
That's why I got detained once when I went to Japan.
"If I could switch to an adult form without any risk, that'd be nice."
"When are you gonna do that? Even the oldest of your kind, Utopia, still looks like a middle‑schooler. When are you planning to grow up?"
"One day I'll become a gorgeous, curvy beauty."
"I wonder if I'll still be around by then."
Even though I'm a reincarnator, I'm not endless. Right now I could break the cycle of reincarnation on my own and rest whenever I want.
But I stay because Sion is with me and there are things I need to finish and decisions I must make.
"I can't live without you."
"I can't live without you either. If you die, I'll kill whoever killed you and then die myself."
"Didn't you almost do that before?"
"When was that...? It was hundreds of years ago, so my memory's fuzzy."
Sion belongs to a deathless species. Because of that, there are individuals who have lived since ancient times, so if they die it's either suicide or murder.
As long as I'm around, Sion won't kill herself, so the only remaining possibility is murder. If someone kills Sion, I'll kill that person no matter how strong they are, and then I'll die too.
"I really thought I was going to die then."
Ah, that story.
As a reincarnator, I won't die unless I break the reincarnation cycle myself. However, a higher transcendent can directly annihilate my soul and kill me.
Back then I was absolutely furious and fought. I won because our affinities matched, but honestly, if I had to fight someone of equal power from a different lineage, I'd lose.
I generally avoid fights, but that guy tried to take Sion because he liked her, so we went all out.
After that I truly became the Great Demon King.
As a rule, any blond delinquent trying to NTR needs a smack to the head. Thinking that transcendent beings can do whatever they want is arrogance.
"That's why you don't fight much these days."
"What about Raccoon Man then?"
"That's just me playing with the kids."
Fighting one person versus a nation isn't called a war. When the power gap is that huge, the term we use changes.
To me, society means nothing, and even a Master‑level Force User is just a newborn who's barely stepped onto the battlefield. If I went all out, I could win with just a finger. Still, I respect human relationships, so I maintain a certain level of courtesy.
"............"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I never knew you had any sense of propriety."
"Etiquette makes the person, and etiquette is the same as manners. That's what I meant."
"You knew from the start I wasn't human."
"No, out of nowhere you're denying my existence! Here, eat this!"
I pressed my mouth to the top of Sion's head and blew a hot breath. The warm wind on her sweaty crown made her shudder violently.
"It's mean to do that when it's already hot. Ahh, ugh!"
"You can't get away. How does it feel to stick sweaty bodies together and rub against each other in this sticky weather?"
Even though I don't feel the heat, my body temperature is the same as anyone's. Sion's body is weaker than mine, so she feels both heat and cold more easily. Still, she sweats, so when we hug and rub, we both end up drenched.
Even though she might not like it, Sion didn't really resist. Just like some girls wear miniskirts in winter, a couple that's constantly flushed can't reject summer's humid heat as a barrier to skinship.
"......So tonight we're having a sweaty, sticky session?"
"You don't like it?"
"I'm fine with it."
"Suddenly the mood turned shark‑like."
Sion has a subtle smell fetish. Sometimes I see her sniffing my underwear piled in the laundry basket.
While we chatted and swung, my sense detected someone approaching.
I could wrap the whole planet in my sense if I wanted, but usually I keep it limited to a three‑meter radius to avoid overexertion. Within that range, no transcendent above me can fool my senses or ambush me.
The source was behind me. Even without my sense, I could hear tiny footsteps—a faint but heavy sound... ordinary people don't walk like that. So maybe a Force User?
As I turned, the attacker lunged at me. I quickly shoved Sion aside and rolled off the swing as the man pounced.
"Hey! Stay still!"
"What the hell, man?"
He's a Force User. He grabbed my arm trying to restrain me, but there was no killing intent—just annoyance. If there's no intent to kill, I'm willing to hear him out.
He seized my arm, pulled it behind my back, and slapped on a pair of cuffs that looked nothing like the ordinary ones we saw on TV. They were thick, incredibly strong—look like something even a primate couldn't break.
"Hey, mister, why are you doing this? Can we at least hear the reason?"
"Shut up, punk! You don't even deserve the right to stay silent!"
"Are you a cop?"
The cuffs' shape and material were odd, and he's a Force User claiming to be police. I recalled hearing about a special squad that deals with Force User criminals. If that's the case, then these cuffs would be impossible for a Force User to break, and his identity could be verified.
"What are you doing to my husband?!"
"Husband? Nah, kid, I'm a cop—if you ever feel weird around this person or sense something off, let me know. Some Force Users mess with people's heads like that."
"I'm not a kid! Just because I look young doesn't mean I'm younger than him—I'm two years older!"
Sion flared up at the sudden accusation, raising her voice more than usual.
Her comment made the man realize he might have misunderstood, and the pressure on my shoulder eased a little.
"Mister, let's just talk first. I've got my ID and phone in my pocket—let me show them, and you can check the pictures of us together on my phone."
If he really is police, tackling him carelessly could blow things up. It seems like just a small misunderstanding, and he's just trying to do his job. I won't get angry over a pair of cuffs for something so trivial.
...Unless he was aiming for Sion, in which case I'd have punched his head off instead.
He pulled my wallet from my pocket, checked my ID, then looked at my phone's lock screen—our photo together.
"Is that enough now?"
Sion glared at him with cold eyes. Her rare show of anger meant she was truly pissed off.
I feel the same—it sucked to go from a nice atmosphere to being treated like a criminal out of nowhere.
"Um, are you really a married couple?"
"We live nearby. We get mistaken for this all the time, so I usually carry our marriage certificate, but I didn't bring it today. I never thought we'd be stopped just a five‑minute walk away."
Sion's steady gaze held a strange authority. Even I felt intimidated; I can only imagine how he felt.
The force on my shoulder had loosened enough that I could lift my upper body. I sat up a bit.
"Officer, let's start with introductions. I'm Choi Ak, living around here. I run a small chicken shop in Myeong‑dong. And you are?"
"............Lieutenant Lee Yu‑seong of the Seoul Central Police Station's Special Violent Crimes Team."
"Special Violent Crimes Team? That's the unit that catches Force User criminals, right?"
"Yes, that's right."
Normally, a criminal investigations division has a support team, an investigations team, and a violent crimes team. But a Special Violent Crimes Team likewise handles special offenders—meaning Force User criminals.
"It seems there's a misunderstanding. We may look mismatched, but we're a married couple who love each other. We got married earlier this year. My wife looks young because of a past illness, but she's actually two years older than me. We came out tonight craving ice cream, bought some, and were heading back."
I explained calmly, laying out the evidence, and the tension seemed to ease. I was still annoyed, but tolerable.
"I often get mistaken like this... but this is the first time I've been cuffed. Could you at least give a satisfactory reason for the arrest?"
"If I don't accept your reason, I'll get angry too. If there's no justification, I'm thinking of burying you right here."
"I'm sorry. It's classified information......"
"What? You're treating me like a criminal, slapping cuffs on me, and now you hide behind 'classified'? Screw that—I've got limits. Damn......"
I was about to lash out when Sion grabbed my hand and pulled it back. She stopped me before I could swing a fist, preventing me from dragging him off to bury him alive as evidence destruction.
"Didn't you say you were from the Central Police Station's chief?"
"Ah, yes, that's right."
Sion took out her phone and dialed a number. After a few rings, someone answered.
"It's been a while, Chief. Sorry for calling late. It's nothing major—"
I was genuinely curious just how far her connections reached.
Sion exchanged pleasantries, then handed the phone over to Lieutenant Lee Yu‑seong.
"Take it. It's the chief on the line."
"Huh?"
"Answer it. He's waiting."
Sion said nothing more, just passed the phone.
"Yes, Lieutenant Lee Yu‑seong speaking."
[You bastard! What the hell did you pull in the middle of the night!!!]
"Ch‑chief!!!"
[You need to explain things to them and apologize on your knees if you have to. Damn it, you're the smallest team yet cause the biggest mess...... You, watch yourself. I'll be waiting for you tomorrow morning—drop the stakeout nonsense and come straight to my office!]
"Yes, sir. Yes, sir...... sorry. Yes, yes."
Even though it wasn't on speaker, the chief's booming voice carried over. Lieutenant Lee Yu‑seong kept bowing his head and apologizing.
Seeing that typical image of a salaried worker being scolded made me feel a pang of pity.
He handed the phone back; his face looked ten years older.
"You've had a rough time."
"......Yeah."
Now it was my turn to hear the story.