Not My Sister's Personal Taxi
Training top yanked up, he scratched his bare belly vigorously before shuffling into the living room. Yawning hugely, he peeked toward the kitchen.
His mother, stirring a pot of stew, turned around and furrowed her brow deeply.
"Oh my, Tae-ho! What on earth are you doing?"
"What. Feed me. I'm hungry."
"Even at home, come on—a grown girl scratching her exposed belly like that? Put your shirt down, you look ridiculous!"
A hot ladle looked ready to fly at his back. He indifferently lowered his scratching hand and tugged down the hem of his shirt.
Three years since that damned system had remodeled his body into a 140cm girl's during awakening. Now his mother treated him like her perfect youngest daughter. Demanding proper ladylike behavior as naturally as breathing had become routine.
A "virgin" at thirty-two? Ridiculous. But he lacked the energy to argue. Pushing back with this body wouldn't get through anyway.
"Fine, fine. Just give me food."
He yanked out a dining chair and plopped down. His toes didn't reach the floor. He swung his dangling legs back and forth in the air.
Mother sighed deeply and set down a bowl of doenjang jjigae and a heaping bowl of rice. Spoon in hand, he casually asked,
"Where's Hae-eun? It's the weekend, but she's not around?"
"She went out early this morning to meet friends near Hongdae. She'll be back before dinner."
"Yeah."
He replied half-heartedly, scooping rice into the bubbling stew. Chewing steadily, he picked at the side dishes. With his appetite kicking in, it looked like another peaceful day.
After eating, he crawled back to his room. Bed sounded tempting, but he figured he'd fire up a game for once.
He sank into his computer chair and booted it up. Logging into the trendy first-person team shooter. Match found, game started. Enemy characters popped up across the screen.
Too slow. His physique and dynamic vision, perfectly optimized for mana by the system, far exceeded normal human limits. To him, the enemies' movements looked like stuttering still frames.
He flicked his mouse wrist lightly.
Click. Click. Click.
Crisp mouse clicks filled the screen with headshot notifications. Spotting an enemy around a corner, he buried a bullet in their forehead in 0.1 seconds. Recoil control? Effortlessly compensated by mechanical precision.
"Ugh, no fun."
Three games in a row, solo 50+ kills each. Curses flooded the all-chat, ignoring allies and enemies alike.
No tension whatsoever. Overwhelming physical dominance turned into mindless civilian slaughter, and boredom set in fast. He tossed the mouse aside and shut down the PC.
Back to the living room he crawled. Mother was glued to a weekend soap opera rerun on the sofa.
A dramatic scene played: mother-in-law splashing kimchi juice in her daughter-in-law's face. He sidled up quietly and plopped his butt right next to hers.
"Why's that auntie acting up again? She's nuts."
"Ugh, tell me about it! Look at that vicious hag. The drama's going off the rails."
Side by side, they peeled and munched tangerines while gleefully trash-talking the characters. Time slipped away pointlessly. The wall clock pointed to 5 p.m.
His smartphone blared from his training pants pocket. Caller: Kang Hae-eun. A bad feeling hit, but he answered anyway.
"What."
-Oppa! I'm at Hongdae entrance!
Horns blaring and thumping club music exploded from the speaker.
-Traffic's a total parking lot! Cars aren't moving an inch! Come pick me up, please?
"Take a taxi."
-Taxis are impossible too! Weekend subway's packed—feels like I'll get crushed! Please! Just one flight!
He yanked the phone away from his ear. Deep sigh. Headache already brewing.
Brutally hit end call.
"Mom. Gonna grab Hae-eun."
Mother, eyes fixed on the drama, replied offhandedly.
"Okay, be careful in the crowds."
No need to head to the door. He flung open the balcony window. Hopped onto the sill.
Gathered mana into a sphere underfoot. Stomped the air hard. His small body rocketed upward like a cannonball over the cityscape.
Hongdae Entrance Station Exit 9 airspace. Friday evening streets teemed with a horrific crush of people. A literal sea of humanity.
Gradually lowering altitude, he released the mana barrier blocking the wind. Silver hair streaming long, he descended slowly, landing feather-light. The moment his toes touched asphalt—
"Huh? Up there!"
"Whoa, it's Hunter Kang Tae-ho!"
A sharp cry rippled through, and the street erupted. Like the Red Sea parting, dense crowds split left and right, clearing a wide circle.
Blind fervor for the nation's savior. Everyone halted, whipping out smartphones. Camera flashes blinded from all sides.
"Whoa, insane! Seeing the real deal is wild! So freaking cute!"
"Hunter Tae-ho! Our national little sis! Always cheering for you! Love you!"
The whole street drowned in deafening cheers. Ears ringing. He gave up on expressions, just nodding curtly.
Tiring, but routine now. He scanned around. Far off, Kang Hae-eun bounced wildly, waving like mad.
"Oppa! Here, here!"
Stoic-faced, he strode forward. Crowds parted automatically. Flanking Hae-eun were two unfamiliar women—late twenties office types, heavy makeup, flashy outfits.
His gaze hit them; they gasped, hands over mouths. Squealing with delight, they stomped in place.
"Insane, totally insane...! Uh, hello! Hunter Tae-ho! Huge fan!"
"We're Hae-eun's college besties! Honored to meet you!"
Their sparkling-eyed gush made his ears buzz. For his sister's sake, he replied politely.
"Yeah. Nice to meet you."
Short greeting done, he glared sharply at Hae-eun.
"Your car."
Kang Hae-eun grinned sheepishly, scratching her head.
"Didn't bring it today~ How could I drive here to Hongdae? Hehe."
"......"
He scowled. Stuck in traffic, my ass. No car from the start—she'd planned to use him as her personal chauffeur.
Speechless at her brazen scheme. Couldn't attack family with mana, though.
Lifted himself slightly with mana, hovering till eye-level with her crown.
Thwack!
Right fist balled, he delivered a solid knuckle rap to her head.
"Ow! Oppa, you psycho? Why hit me outta nowhere!"
"Shut it. Hold tight. Your fault if you fall."
Grabbed the back of her training suit collar and waist firmly. Blue mana enveloped her in a hemisphere. Protection from high-speed wind pressure for a normal person.
As her friends gawked upward, he rocketed skyward dangling her. Hundreds of cheers faded behind as he pierced the clouds.
Fierce iron wind battered his ears mid-flight. But safe inside the thick mana shield, Hae-eun gazed around calmly.
"What's Mom doing?"
"Watching drama with flying kimchi slaps at home."
"Oh, what's for dinner? I'm starving."
"Dunno. Waiting for Dad to get home."
Hae-eun swam leisurely through the air, humming cheerfully. He sighed deeply at his shameless sister's attitude. Revved mana higher, maxing out speed.
Minutes later, slipped into the penthouse balcony. Dropped Hae-eun unceremoniously on the living room floor. Closed the window, stepped inside—rich, oily aroma filled the air.
"Oh, our sturdy cute Tae-ho's back!"
Dad, just home from work, gleefully unpacked a black plastic bag on the table. Mom, sipping water from the kitchen, chimed in happily.
"Our girls are home? Quick, wash up in the bathroom. Your dad's brought old-school whole fried chicken from the market."
Grease-stained brown paper bag. Inside, two golden-brown, crispy whole chickens gleamed. Irritation melted away; mouth watered instantly.
"Whoa, chicken."
Legs that were heading to his room swerved straight to the table. Plopped into a chair, ripped off a massive drumstick bare-handed. Crispy fried skin and tender meat exploded in his mouth. Juices dripped down his chin.
"Mmm. Good, good. Tasty. Dad's got taste."
Silently demolished half a chicken in seconds. Piled the bare bones high on a plate. Wiped greasy fingers and mouth roughly with wet wipes.
Belly full, back warm—he felt languid. Slowly rose, hands jammed in training pants pockets.
"I'm really going to my room now. Don't call me."
"Hey, Oppa. Wait, wait!"
Hae-eun, tearing into chicken breast, desperately blocked his path. Face groveling pitifully. Eyes darting sneakily to check parents—suspicious.
"What. Again. I'm tired."
"Well... Among my besties at Hongdae earlier, the one with long hair."
"So?"
"She awakened late a few days ago? But she's freaking out 'cause she's diving into her first training dungeon tomorrow..."
Hae-eun clasped her hands beggingly, whining pathetically.
"Can't Oppa just check out Seol-ah a bit? Like, basics on how to handle mana."
Ridiculous. She'd timed it perfectly post-chicken bliss—devious.
"What? You nuts? Why would I babysit a noob?"
"Pleeease, just once! She's my ten-year bestie! What if she dies!"
"Tell her to hit the Association or a guild. Plenty of paid instructors crawling around—why drag me into tutorial duty?"
Flat refusal. His mana handling was ruthless slaughter tech. Smashing beast skulls fastest and most efficiently. No romantic beginner-friendly version in his head.
"Please! You're the top dog in this world's meta! Personal one-on-one from the strongest? Perfect! Right?"
She clung to his sleeve, dragging and whining endlessly. Ignore now, and she'd bang on his door all night screaming—exhausting.
Pinched his forehead, sighed like the earth was caving in.
"...Ugh, fine, fine. Don't stretch my shirt. Neck'll bag out."
Swatted her hand away, turned. As he opened his door, blocked his ears from the hysterical cheers behind.
"Yay! Eeee! Oppa's the best! Love you for real!"
Slammed and locked the door. Dove face-first into the soft bed. Buried his face in the pillow.
Rest? What rest. Goddamn it.
When would his perfect, lazy NEET life finally know peace?