My Little Sister's Friend (1)

I had possessed a special ability ever since I was little.

Take, for instance, something that happened back in kindergarten.

I had a friend who came from an extremely wealthy family. An air of refinement always clung to him, and he carried around the latest toys and smartphones that the rest of us could only dream of owning.

One day he brought in a box of luxury candies that were supposedly impossible to find anywhere and showed them off. He handed them out only to the kids who obeyed him without question, and in no time at all he became the queen of the whole group.

While everyone else was wailing with envy, throwing tantrums, and bowing their heads for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a single piece, I casually rummaged through my pocket—and found an identical candy sitting right there.

I got to eat that candy without ever having to submit to him.

There was more.

Another time I was hanging around an unmanned stationery shop, craving junk food. With no allowance to my name, all I could do was stare at it like a picture of a feast I would never taste. Then I absently dug into my pocket and found a single five-hundred-won coin.

I bought that junk food with my head held high.

Of course, calling something like that a “special ability” sounds ridiculous. Back then I never even thought of it as a power of mine. I just figured I was lucky and moved on.

That was how it went—whatever I needed would simply appear in my pocket—until the day my family completely fell apart, and I finally understood what the ability was truly worth.

Riiip.

Riiip.

Bright red seizure stickers plastered all over the house. The television, the sofa, the refrigerator, the computer—everything that had been ours suddenly wasn’t.

My father had gambled away everything, then turned to loan sharks, and was one step away from having his organs harvested. He spent every day holed up at home, the empty soju bottles multiplying around him. Yelling at me and my little sister, hurling bottles at us as threats—that was just another ordinary day.

Around that time my mother started seeing another man. Before long she left us behind and vanished for good.

The debt collector who treated our house like his own personal lounge would look at my sister and lick his lips.

“Damn, this little bitch is a real looker. Play it right and we could make a killing off her.”

There was almost nothing I could do. I dropped out of high school, threw myself into part-time jobs, and lived a life of crawling on my knees in front of that collector. Father demanded money for more booze; the light in my sister’s eyes had gone out long ago. Considering how strong-willed and proud she normally was, it was a miracle she hadn’t run away. Or maybe she had tried, and the collector had caught her.

A life that could shatter at any moment. A life balanced on a knife’s edge with no end in sight.

And yet, surprisingly, that hellish stretch didn’t last long.

It was the dead of winter, white breath freezing in the air. I slipped my blistered hands into my pockets to escape the cold and stared blankly up at the full moon hanging alone in the sky. A height I could never reach no matter how hard I tried. Looking at that hazy moon, I absently made a wish.

I wish all of this… was just a dream.

I wish Mom and Dad were happy together again, the way things used to be.

To cut straight to the conclusion: that never happened.

Instead, something caught in my empty pocket. A clear plastic case and a single sheet of paper.

I unfolded the paper and read it.

“…What?”

Finding something like this in my pocket out of nowhere was already strange enough, but the words written on the manual were stranger still. I read them over and over, trying to make sense of them, and while I did the ink on the paper dissolved in real time. Before I knew it the sheet was blank.

I opened the plastic case in a daze. Lenses sat inside.

The debt collector came to our house almost every day. I had tried reporting him long ago. By pure chance I once saw the provincial police chief bowing his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head to the man, and after that I gave up. The collector was a far bigger player in the underworld than he looked. The reason a figure like that personally visited our house was clear: he was waiting for my sister to grow a little older so he could harvest her.

Wearing the lenses, I had drawn up several plans just to lock eyes with him—but it turned out to be far easier than any of them. After only a few seconds of staring, he grabbed me by the hair and slammed me to the floor. Then he looked down at me the way a superior looks at an inferior, making sure I understood the hierarchy.

What wish had I made again?

I was certain I had wished for him to believe my father’s debt was already paid off. So that the creditor-debtor relationship would end. So that he would stop tormenting our family.

Looking back now, it was a clumsy, meaningless wish. Even if the debt vanished, there was no guarantee the collector would disappear—not when he already had his eyes on my sister.

But the desire I had truly, desperately wanted deep in my heart must have been something else entirely.

From that day on, the way the collector treated me changed completely. Like the young master of a wealthy house? Like an only son? Like a younger brother he cherished more than anyone? He became so devoted that he wouldn’t let a single drop of water touch my finger.

I finally understood.

My real wish had been: I want this man to be on my side.

The debt my father had created was, of course, wiped clean. The collector even beat the drunken old man into shape and rewired his mind. I could feel Father growing healthier in real time. He started a new business and threw himself into it. The house brightened in the blink of an eye.

Mother remained unreachable, but Father—now sharp-eyed and full of life—mentioned he might bring home a new stepmother. I had thought that once things settled I would miss Mom even more. Maybe it was because she had abandoned us and disappeared. Neither I nor my sister seemed to feel anything at all.

After that, all sorts of strange objects began popping out of my pocket, each ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠accompanied by its own little manual. What was I, Doraemon? Most of them were single-use, and only one appeared per day, but there were things like a cloak that turned you invisible, or a sheet of paper that let you see the future. Plenty of absurd items.

They seemed random for the most part. Yet sometimes, just like those first Mind Control Lenses, something perfectly suited to the situation would appear. Maybe the pocket was reading my desperate wishes.

Thanks to the debt collector who doted on me, money was never a worry. I could buy my sister whatever she wanted, even if it spoiled her. I spent my days lounging around the house doing nothing. I lived a life of pure abundance.

After years of mindless play with zero productivity, I got so bored I took the high-school equivalency exam and sat for the college entrance test.

That gum appeared every single day during the six months I studied. Duration: thirty minutes. I built a routine of studying for two hours, then reviewing for thirty. Starting from absolute zero and studying only that moderately, I still ended up with all Level 2 scores. I had never even aimed for the top ranks; the result was a pleasant surprise. Math had a bit of luck on its side, sure. Satisfying as the grades were, I had no real desire to go to university.

Instead I threw myself into studying stocks in earnest. I had already tasted the pain of having no money; I never wanted that to happen again. Money worries seemed unnecessary now, but you never know what life will throw at you.

The more I studied stocks, the more difficult corners I found. Not that I needed to flounder. I couldn’t see which stocks would rise, but I could see tomorrow’s news. I bought the theme stocks tied to each event and the related value-chain shares. It was like solving problems while looking at the answer key, so of course my portfolio soared.

I had reached the point where I could casually call myself a full-time investor. A reasonably wealthy man sitting on a few dozen billion won, if I felt like introducing myself that way.

These days I lived a leisurely life in my room, indulging in various hobbies.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The front door opened and a thin voice called out, “I’m home.”

It was my little sister, who had graduated high school last year and was now a re-taker. She wasn’t attending a cram school; she went to a reading room and watched online lectures. She had sworn she would get into Korea University no matter what, though I wasn’t sure she would make it. She and her friends seemed to hit the clubs and drink a little too often. Well, she was an adult now—she could figure it out herself. With this much money in the family, I didn’t want her stressing over employment. I planned to set her up as a landlord so she could play and eat for the rest of her life.

I opened my door and saw her standing there with her backpack still on.

“You’re back? Kind of early to—”

We weren’t especially close, but we weren’t awkward or uncomfortable either. We could exchange warm enough greetings. Today, however, she had brought a guest.

Dolphin shorts that left her smooth, snow-white legs completely bare. Those long legs drew an elegant line of pure beauty. Even with a slender frame, the deep valley of her full chest pulled the eye in. It was just a plain white T-shirt, yet somehow it looked like expensive designer wear.

The moment our eyes met I awkwardly looked away. She was pretty—uncomfortably so.

My sister spoke.

“This is my friend Park Seoh-ah. We’re re-taking the exam together. That’s my older brother, Kim Jiwoo.”

“Hello, Jiwoo oppa! I’ve heard so much about you from Chaeeun.”

I gave a small nod in greeting, then smiled faintly.

“Oh yeah? I didn’t think she’d talk about me. Must be badmouthing me behind my back.”

“Not at all! Chaeeun always only praises you. She says you’re a really good oppa.”

The bright smile and lively voice told me everything about her personality. The complete opposite of my blunt, cold little sister. Just standing near her felt refreshing, like the air itself had brightened. You could even say she was the opposite of me, too.

“I’ll just be in my room, so make yourselves comfortable.”

I had met a few of my sister’s friends before; every last one of them was a beauty. Among them were rising idols, models, even influencers with a million followers. I considered my sister pretty enough—she had received plenty of confessions back in school—but next to her friends she always seemed a step behind. Maybe she was the wallet or the doormat of the group.

I was thinking that ridiculous thought and about to close my door when Park Seoh-ah spoke.

“Oh, we’re heading straight to the study café. We’re re-takers, so we have to study. You can stay out here if you want.”

She looked at me steadily for a moment, then gave a soft eye-smile. Without meaning to, I averted my gaze.

“We’ll be going, then, Oppa.”

My sister gave a small wave. If they were leaving right away, why come home at all? The answer came to me almost immediately.

“Hold on a second.”

I went back into my room, grabbed a handful of fifty-thousand-won bills from my wallet—roughly three hundred thousand—and came out. Ever since the loan-shark days I had developed the habit of slipping my sister pocket money whenever I could. Especially because, back when she was in middle school and the family collapsed, she had been mocked for it. I could still see the look on her face. I wanted her to live richly now, without ever worrying about money again.

I had considered just transferring it to her account, but with her friend here it felt fine to show off a little. I was the generous older brother who always gave good allowance; a bit of swagger was allowed.

I handed the bills over in the living room.

“Buy yourselves something tasty. And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠don’t come home too late.”

I glanced at Park Seoh-ah.

“I gave a little extra because Seoh-ah’s here.”

“Thank you, Jiwoo oppa! I’ll study really hard! You’re so handsome!”

“Yeah. Just study and come straight back.”

Park Seoh-ah laughed brightly; my sister’s reaction was as dry as ever. That was fine. I wanted a life where receiving generous allowance felt completely natural to her.

The two of them exchanged meaningful looks while putting on their shoes. Just as they opened the front door, I caught a scrap of quiet conversation.

“So… what do you think of him…?”

“Pretty decent… Can I really… do it? In two days…”

Park Seoh-ah suddenly glanced back, and our eyes met.

Thud.

The door closed, cutting the space off completely.

Even though we lived under the same roof, it felt like an invisible wall stood between my sister and me. Unlike me, she had plenty of friends and went out a lot. Just walking around she drew every eye in the room. She was re-taking the exam now, yet somehow I could already picture her becoming an idol or an actress someday. We simply lived in different worlds.

Like all her other friends, Park Seoh-ah would probably be one of those people I never saw again.

The next morning I brushed my teeth while scanning the various news feeds. Spectacular things happened in this country every single day. Checking the news had become a habit because of stocks, but even without that the news itself was often entertaining.

I was about to finish brushing in the bathroom attached to my room when a knock sounded on my door. Father barely came home these days, so it could only be my sister. She had left for the reading room at seven in the morning, though. What brought her back?

I opened the door and found my sister standing there, dressed far too stylishly for a re-taker.

“Oppa, I ran into something I don’t understand while studying. Can you explain it?”

I had taught her a few times before. Honestly, I had probably studied harder for her lessons than I ever had for the actual entrance exam, so my scores might even be higher now. My mouth was still full of foam, so I just nodded roughly.

Then a brown bob swayed behind her.

“Can you look at mine too? Please? Oppa?”

Park Seoh-ah stood there, voice dripping with coquettish charm, smiling brightly.