The Final Life
I arrived in Seoul in Auntie's car.
We had shared quite a long conversation on the road. Getting me officially entered into her family registry had required a tremendous amount of effort, virtually all of which the Monk had dumped onto Aunt Dongja's shoulders. I had no idea what kind of history she and the Monk shared, but she had willingly endured every single frustrating bureaucratic hurdle—all for someone she barely even knew. Up until his dying breath, the Monk had kept his mouth tightly shut about several crucial details regarding me.
"Are you truly?"
"Yes. Unless the Monk was somehow mistaken."
"Haaah... Why on earth did he keep calling you a child, then?"
First and foremost was my age. When she learned that I was legitimately twenty years old, she had stared at me with wide, bewildered eyes. She had assumed that my age had merely been listed as twenty on paper to smooth out the administrative process, since adopting a legal adult was far simpler than adopting a minor.
Her reaction was entirely understandable. After all, this body of mine had stopped growing prematurely. Even though I was a full-grown adult male, I barely reached Aunt Dongja's shoulder, and my face looked dreadfully young.
"Ah... if there's anything I've said or done out of ignorance, please tell me."
"It's quite all right."
She had indeed been treating me far too much like a little boy, but I answered with a gentle smile to show I took no offense. Smiling was essential. I curled the corners of my mouth slightly while softening the corners of my eyes, careful not to overdo it. It was an expression I had practiced countless times across my past lives; a measured smile like this always transmitted an instinctively positive signal to whoever was looking.
"Well then... the paperwork's all taken care of. Would you mind waiting here for just a moment?"
"Of course."
With the Monk gone, Aunt Dongja was my sole benefactor in this world. Being babied a little was hardly a problem. If I wanted to adapt to secular society and find my footing, relying on her assistance was the smartest move I could make.
"I took care of most of the prep beforehand, so it shouldn't take long at all."
"Yes, please take your time."
Aunt Dongja reminded me several times to stay seated right where I was. Even as she took the few steps toward the intake counter, she kept turning her head to check on me. In her eyes, I was merely a sheltered child who had spent his entire life sequestered in a mountain temple, freshly thrust into the bustling city.
Still... why is everyone staring at me like that?
I took a quiet glance around. This Community Service Center wasn't particularly crowded, yet the moment I turned my head, the few scattered gazes in the room dispersed in a hurry: an elderly grandmother sitting in a far corner, a civil servant behind the counter, and the security guard. Curiously, the guard was a woman. That was typically a post staffed by men.
Is it because I'm so small?
My lack of height was a personal grievance of mine as well, all the more so because in my past lives I had possessed physiques that yielded to no one. Even so, it felt strange for so many eyes to gather solely on account of my stature. Perhaps it was my clothes. Draped in grey monastic robes while sporting a full head of long hair was bound to look bizarre.
"Jungseo, all done! They're just reissuing your ID card now, so let's wait right here."
"Yes, Auntie."
The lingering questions dissolved from my mind as she returned to my side.
"You must be starving, right? As soon as this is done, let's hurry home and get you fed."
"Yes. Thank you for all your help."
Sitting side by side with Auntie, I kept up my polite smile as we chatted. Pleased by my demeanor, she gently reached out to pat my head, only to pull her hand back with a sudden start, flustered by her own familiarity. What a relief. Petite though I might be, it seemed my exceptionally handsome, pretty face was already doing its job.
Once the family registry was settled, we headed straight for Auntie's house. I had gone from simply "Jungseo" to "Noh Jungseo." Taking her surname had legally cemented my place as her son.
"You don't have to call me Mom right away," she said gently.
"Understood."
"Maybe later, once we've gotten a lot closer and you feel ready, but not before."
"Yes."
"I'm fairly well-off financially, so please don't feel burdened by any of this."
"Thank you once again."
Our conversation proceeded with Auntie offering prompts or explanations while I supplied measured responses. The primary topic, naturally, revolved around my condition and background.
"To be honest, I was worried sick at first. Since you're an adult now, Jungseo, I'll be completely frank with you."
"Please, go ahead."
"I'd only heard things secondhand from the Monk, so I had no idea what your state was really like."
If Aunt Dongja had been born a man in ancient times, she would undoubtedly have made a magnificent battlefield general. She was broad-shouldered, imposing, and exuded the unmistakable air of a warrior matriarch. Yet in stark contrast to that formidable exterior, the tone she used with me remained endlessly soft.
"That's why I worried so much about whether you'd even be able to adjust to city life."
What she fretted over was my mental health. What the Monk had confided to her about me was almost entirely about the state of my mind. He had described me as a "child with a different soul."
He had wrapped it in gentle euphemisms, but the reality of my early years had been dire. As a young child, I had displayed cruel and impulsive tendencies so severe they made one question whether I was truly human at all. A soul worn thin and frayed across thousands of lifetimes had bled its exhaustion into this incarnation—far more acutely than in my previous life.
"I'm fine now. Thanks to the Monk, I've recovered a great deal."
"I can see that. From what I can tell, you seem completely normal."
"Yes. There won't be anything for you to worry about."
I was neither a psychopath nor a sociopath. While I exhibited a few overlapping symptoms, my affliction was fundamentally different; it originated from the sheer weariness of my immortal soul. But that was a truth known only to me. If I were to live with my raw instincts laid bare, trouble would follow just the same. Therefore, just as I had in my immediate past life, my highest priority was to keep myself tightly in check and live this incarnation out cleanly to the end.
Though I still have no idea what it truly means to 'heal my soul.'
Furthermore, I strongly suspected this physical body had dropped straight out of the sky. After all, the Goddess had promised to craft me a vessel that could not naturally exist in this world. Even the Monk hadn't known how I was born; he had only ever mentioned picking me up as an abandoned infant. The crucial point was that my body was extraordinary. It felt undeniably like a divine gift, and the Monk had known full well I was nothing like ordinary men. Yet he had kept his silence and told Auntie nothing about my physical nature.
Is my short height part of being special, too?
Hardly. That was almost certainly the handiwork of the Male God. He had explicitly declared he would impose constraints upon the vessel the Goddess prepared. It was still speculation, but whatever shackles he had placed upon me probably weren't limited to mere height. If only all the memories of my previous lives had returned, I could have assessed my condition with far greater precision. It was somewhat regrettable that I could only recall the life immediately preceding this one.
"Still, I think it would be wise to take you to a hospital. What do you think?"
"A hospital?"
"Yes. You've never been to one, have you?"
"No, not that I can recall."
The car gradually slowed before pulling up and stopping outside a detached two-story house with its own private garage. Auntie had brought up the hospital to suggest a full health checkup. I readily agreed; her suggestions were practically commands to me, and I was in no position to be picky.
"While we're doing the checkup, it'd be good to get you up to date on any vaccinations you need."
"Understood. But I feel as though I'm imposing far too much on you."
"Don't worry about it. Doing this helps ease my own debt of gratitude to the Monk, so I don't want you to feel burdened at all."
She added that helping me brought her own peace of mind, reassuring me not to dwell on it. She seemed to be a genuinely good person.
Auntie's claim that she was well-off was evidently no exaggeration. Setting aside whether the property was owned outright or mortgaged to the hilt, this was still Seoul—a detached two-story house complete with its own private garage. Stepping through the front door, even the entryway exuded a distinct aura of luxury.
"Make yourself at home," Auntie said warmly.
I still wasn't sure how far she intended her generosity to extend.
"How long will I be allowed to stay here—"
"Jungseo. It may only be on paper for now, but I am your mother."
"...Yes."
"We can talk details after we eat."
"Understood."
Overwhelmed by her forceful conviction, I held my tongue. There would be plenty of time to talk later. Satisfied with my reply, Auntie slipped off her shoes. But the moment she stepped into the living room, her expression hardened instantly.
"Noh. Yeo. Eun!"
Freezing in her tracks, Auntie unleashed a roar drawn straight from the depths of her dantian. Judging by the venom in her scowl and the sheer volume of the bellow, she was thoroughly incensed. Unable to even step into the living room, I remained rooted in the entranceway, cautiously gauging the atmosphere.
Thud-thud-thud-crash! Clack-clack-clack!
A frantic commotion erupted upstairs. In the blink of an eye, a woman scrambled down and materialized before us.
"I told you to clean up the house! What the hell have you been doing all this time?!"
"You're back already? Uh... I was totally about to clean up in a bit, but..."
"Haaah... Why does the only daughter I have cause me nothing but grief?"
So this was Aunt Dongja's daughter. And she was huge. In more ways than one, she was a woman you couldn't take your eyes off of.
"Wait, who's this shrimp?"
"Shrimp?! He's twenty years old! Mind your manners!"
"What? Bullshit, no way... Really?"
The woman called Noh Yeo-eun was taller even than Auntie. Her casual, loose loungewear did little to conceal her massive breasts, which were positively breathtaking in scale. Her face was slightly flushed, perhaps from hurtling down the stairs in such a panic.
"Jungseo, this is my daughter. Introduce yourselves."
"Hello. I'm Noh Jungseo."
Noh Yeo-eun looked down at me with a distinctly unimpressed expression. Having lived in isolation with only the Monk for so long, I hadn't realized how strange it felt to be peered down at by a woman. And from the look in her eyes, she was clearly displeased by my presence.
"What are you waiting for, you brat? Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"
"Noh Yeo-eun... But Mom, who is this guy really?!"
She grunted out her name with utter bluntness and ended the introduction right there. My first impression of her was promptly filed under: rude and ill-mannered. I held my peace only because she was Auntie's daughter.
"He's your younger brother."
"What?!"
"As of today, he's your brother."
"The hell? What do you mean, brother out of nowhere?! And he's a boy—"
"Shut your mouth! Stop giving me a headache and go order some delivery food right now."
I followed Auntie further inside. Entering the living room, I immediately understood why she had exploded. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across every surface, and misplaced clutter cluttered every corner, offending the eyes. I had sensed it from the shoe rack, but the state of the house was an absolute disaster. It felt like an expensive, oversized trash can.
"No, but seriously! What the fuck do you mean, a younger brother?!"
"Haaah... This little brat. I told you about this before!"
"You should've explained it properly then!"
"Go put on some proper clothes first! And order the food. Quickly!"
Auntie's voice dropped an octave, deepening into a stern, dangerous register. Recognizing that this was the threshold of genuine fury, Noh Yeo-eun scrambled hurriedly back up to the second floor.
To my first impression of Noh Yeo-eun, I added: loud and obnoxious.
This chaotic house was where I was going to live from now on, and that insolent woman was my second family member.