Miracle Baldness Drug's Side Effects(?)
Sunday morning brought a peaceful scene to the living room, broken only by the bustling energy of his younger sister. With giant hair rollers perched on her head, she darted back and forth between the vanity, full-length mirror, and closet like a hyperactive pinball, her footsteps echoing nonstop. She was even humming a light tune, clearly in high spirits.
Lounging with a cushion hugged to his chest, he watched her erratic path before speaking up indifferently.
"What's with the morning frenzy? Got a hot date or something?"
At his dry question, Hae-eun whipped her head around mid-curl on her bangs with the straightener.
"Ah! You've been too busy lately to notice, huh, bro!"
She puffed up proudly at the vanity, chin raised high.
"Know what day it is today? It's the first offline con since the Gate Shock—I've been waiting three whole years for this festival!"
The con. Before the gates ripped open, it had been a pretty big deal in subculture circles. All major gatherings got canceled when monsters started pouring out, but after he pushed back the front lines and cleared trade routes, the world stabilized enough for otaku festivals to resurrect.
"I might come back super late tonight! Gotta snag all the limited-edition merch, so eat dinner without me!"
Hae-eun slung her crossbody bag over her shoulder and hurried toward the entryway. She paused abruptly, flashing him a grin.
"Wanna come, bro? You love anime too."
He flicked his gaze to the TV.
"Nah. Crowds are a pain. Go by yourself."
"For real? With a VIP pass, we could skip the merch lines."
"Too annoying. If you end up with too much stuff or something happens, just call. I'll come haul it."
"Roger that! Porter booked—I'm off!"
Hae-eun flung open the front door with a bang and vanished. The living room fell silent again, like a typhoon had swept through.
A clatter from the kitchen announced his mother's arrival, bearing a plate of apple slices cut just right for easy eating. She sat beside him and speared a piece with a fork, holding it out. He opened his mouth naturally and took it.
"Our little puppy loves watching cartoons so much. Should've gone with Hae-eun. Staying cooped up at home must be stuffy."
His mother stroked his silver hair affectionately as she asked.
"I like watching, sure, but not enough to stand in line with a mob of people. This place is heaven—why leave?"
Crunch. He chewed and swallowed the apple, then hit the remote. The living room TV switched to the regular news channel.
He froze mid-chew. The image of the early-morning soccer uncles' lush hairlines flashed in his mind. Side effects from a baldness cure? Were their heads falling out again after taking it?
"......"
"What. That's a side effect?"
He couldn't help but snort in disbelief. Now it made sense why the neighborhood uncles had been sprinting like maniacs on the soccer field. A drug from monster byproducts wouldn't play by normal chemical rules. He flicked the remote to change channels.
"Japan's at it again."
Unmeasurable rank. The Japanese government was probably lighting up diplomatic lines right now, begging Korea for S-rank hunter support. Not his problem. This wasn't his turf.
"Nothing worth watching."
He killed the TV power and stood.
Back in his room, he flopped face-first onto the bed. He rolled around for a bit, burying his face in the soft mattress. Lying still, thoughts from his recent DMZ experiment bubbled up—imugis and gates.
Did the gates punch into Earth and spawn the System?
Or did some transcendent System pick Earth as its stage and bring the gates?
The causality was murky. Poor monster refugees forcibly relocated from their dimension. And the System with its rotten taste that remodeled him into a silver-haired loli. What came first? What was real?
He flipped over slowly, staring at the ceiling. To hypothesize, he needed to dissect himself first. By Eastern martial arts logic, any overwhelming powerhouse should have a core organ—neidan, inner core, dantian—where energy condensed. Did he have one?
He closed his eyes gently. Focused inward. Drew mana up from his dantian, circulating it slowly along veins and muscle fibers. The blue energy flowing through his bloodstream painted a precise 3D scan in his mind.
...Nothing.
No dantian below the navel. No mana core near the heart. Nothing like that. Instead, his body structure was freakishly alien.
No energy clustered in organs like human guts or monster glands. Every inch—skin, muscles, bones, even a single drop of blood—every cell breathed mana itself. It flowed through his entire body without the tiniest resistance, smooth as silk.
My whole body is one massive core.
Like a puppet sculpted from mana. Or closer: a lump of pure natural mana taking human form. No wonder it regenerated near-infinitely, no matter how much he burned.
"Hoo..."
He snapped his eyes open. Let out a deep sigh.
"Creepily efficient."
He got a faint inkling why the System had twisted him into this freakish body. But its deeper motives? Too little info. Ruminating would just give him a headache.
"Whatever. Old man's research team is probably analyzing it anyway."
Deep philosophy wasn't his thing. Glancing out the window, the sun was already dipping low. He stretched as he rose. Stomach growled.
"Mom, food."
He poked his head out the door and yelled. The stew's aroma wafted from the kitchen. He shoveled down the rice his mother set out. One hand gripped his smartphone, scrolling a game community.
—Ding-a-ling.
The front door lock chimed open. Heavy thuds followed as bags hit the floor.
"Ughhh! I'm dying! My legs are killing me!"
Hae-eun staggered into the living room, looking wrecked. Her hands overflowed with shopping bags and paper sacks as big as she was. Her styled hair had fallen flat, face slick with sweat and grime. She dumped the loot haphazardly on the living room carpet and collapsed into a dining chair.
"Mom! Feed me too! I'm so hungry I'm dizzy!"
His mother tsked and brought out a bowl for her. Spoon in mouth, he smirked at his sister's pitiful state.
"Have fun? You look like you fought a war."
"Don't ask. The crowd was insane—thought I'd get trampled. But I snagged everything worth getting!"
Hae-eun yanked out her smartphone greedily.
"Bro, check this. Hottest cosplay at the event today."
She cackled and shoved the screen in his face. He nearly spat his water.
The photo showed the outdoor plaza at the con. Dead center: three hairy, muscle-bound dudes with exploding pecs and biceps striking poses. The problem was their outfits.
Flowing silver wigs on their heads. Red contact lenses. Fine, accurate to his look—but squeezing those hulking frames into frilly pink dresses and heart-shaped wands? What the hell.
"Fuck!"
The curse slipped out reflexively. He smacked her hand away, recoiling.
"Gouge out my eyes. Get that shit away."
His violent rejection sent Hae-eun into hysterics.
"Ahahaha! Why! The likeness is spot-on! And these are the female versions!"
She swiped to the next pic. This time, actual women cosplaying his silver hair and red eyes, posing primly. Way better visually than the muscle bros, but the idea of strangers mimicking his face and clothes was straight-up horrifying.
"Your cosplay was the most popular at the con today. People were begging for pics every time they spotted one. Maybe the real Hunter Kang Tae-ho should swing by sometime?"
Hae-eun teased him, spraying rice bits.
"Cut the crap. I'll never set foot in a con."
He scowled, wolfing down the rest. Ignoring her jabs, he eyed the sprawled bags on the floor.
"So what's all this? How much did you blow?"
He set down his spoon and ambled to the sofa where she'd dumped her haul. Plopping down, he inspected the spoils: anime art books, posters, limited-edition merch. Amid it all, a familiar-logoed figure caught his eye—a chogokin limited edition from that robot mecha anime he'd binged lately.
His gaze lingered.
"Hey."
"What."
Hae-eun looked up from her meal. He pointed at the figure.
"Can I have this?"
Brazen claim. Everything in this house ran on his black card anyway—fair share. Hae-eun slurped her soup nonchalantly.
"Take it. Bought it from a booth just for you earlier."
He blinked at her in surprise. Amid her merch frenzy, she'd remembered her shut-in bro's tastes. Annoying as hell usually, but blood was blood.
He cradled the figure gently.
"Thanks."
"Show your gratitude by bumping my card limit later."
"I'll think about it."
Examining every detail, a faint smile tugged at his lips.