Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The End of the First Day
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"So what else do you want me to do?"
"Please use your authority to accept emotions from beings that possess rank and ego—and thus self-awareness."
"What does that even mean? Accept emotions?"
"Higher animals develop rank and ego. That lets them feel joy and pain, harbor emotions, control themselves, and sense that they're alive. On Earth, humans are the prime example."
Listening to Par made my head spin.
"Can't you explain it simpler? So, I need to receive support from humans?"
"Sigh... thick-headed..."
I could hear Par muttering under her breath.
"I heard that, you little brat. Acting like some philosopher with all that ego talk."
Par let out a deep sigh before continuing.
"Exactly. When the public's emotional focus turns toward you, the contractor, those emotions become holy power, which in turn translates into my vitality."
"So it doesn't have to be positive support like joy? Any emotions directed at me will do?"
"Precisely. You'll absorb all kinds of emotions as power—joy, sorrow, anger, disgust, fear, you name it."
"Like becoming a popular celebrity... or, on the flip side, committing murder?"
Par gave a dry laugh at my blunt words.
"That's correct as well. You decide which emotions to accept, and you bear the full consequences of those emotional currents."
So, basking in fans' adoration as a star, or getting finger-pointed as a criminal—both were on me to handle.
"But aren't saint spirits supposed to only take in holy, righteous power?"
"No. I only need the power generated by emotional flow itself. Whether it's righteous or not is entirely up to you, the contractor. I don't dictate that."
"What if... I just want to live quietly, without influencing anyone?"
"That's your choice too. I proposed the contract based on the Han Ga-eul I observed and felt. I never asked for your sacrifice."
No matter what I asked, she gave positive answers.
"So, what exactly should I do?"
"There's some power stored in the status window for minor help, but the big picture is yours to decide. What I can tell you is this: to kickstart the functions, shout 'Status Window!' loud and clear."
"Please don't make me do that."
My vision went dark.
As I agonized over whether to actually do it, Par's voice rang out again.
"The power I've granted you will wield tremendous influence on Earth, a world that only embraces the fruits of civilization."
"...And?"
Suddenly, light burst from the mirror, accompanied by what sounded like Par's joyful voice.
"Please live happily!"
With that bright, playful tone as her finale, Par vanished from the mirror as if she'd never been there.
I stared blankly into the mirror for a while, but nothing changed. I trudged back to my room and plopped down on the mattress.
"Live happily, she says. Yeah, right."
I wasn't anyone special. I'd worked at a small company until I quit, then scraped by with day labor and night shifts as a designated driver—a total bottom-rung life.
I couldn't fathom what she'd seen in me to approach like that.
Lost in thought as I sat there, Par's final mumble resurfaced.
"Sa, sa..."
My head drooped automatically.
"Sa... haa."
My throat felt choked, like no sound could come out.
"Sabakgwi! Please."
I glanced around. It was just my space, and no one else was there.
No one in this cramped studio to point fingers at me.
"Hoo. Status Window!!"
⚔ STATUS ⚔ 📛 Name: Han Ga-eul 🎂 Age: 21 👑 Position: Saintess 🏛 Affiliation: Heavenly Peach 🎭 Contracted Spirit: Aparsec 🛒 Shop: Deactivated The status window looked mostly the same.
But my eyes went straight to the "Contracted Spirit" line.
Aparsec—Par's full name—was etched there, right below her beaming farewell smile.
"What a nutjob. Now what?"
I glanced at my left arm. The bracelet was gone, leaving only a fragile-looking wrist behind.
It looked so scrawny at first glance that day labor seemed out of the question now.
Before, I at least had the strength of an average adult male. But now, after that damn hair sapped my power, things were even worse off.
So, what could I do right now?
As Par said, to gain popularity, I'd need looks first and foremost—or singing talent, maybe. I had zero skills to debut in entertainment after choking on construction dust all day.
I'd gamed nonstop, so no interest there either.
The quickest way to make money that came to mind was the designated driving I'd done whenever I had time.
"But if a chick with this drab pink hair suddenly shows up, some hammered ajusshi's gonna grill me on calling a sub driver and curse me out. I can see it now."
Designated driving was mentally draining since all clients were drunks. But purely for cash, it blew day labor out of the water.
'Hang on, my gender changed— what about my personal info?'
I pulled out my ID wallet. Thankfully, it had updated perfectly.
A woman with murky pink hair—like a stylist fell asleep mid-dye job—stared back from the photo.
At least my androgynous name, Han Ga-eul, was coming in handy now.
I recalled how awkward it always felt introducing myself everywhere.
"Hmm."
I pulled out my phone, fired up the designated driving app, and checked the driver profile. That had updated too.
Confirmed, I closed the app and saw the time.
8:32 P.M.
Eight PM was peak hours for sub drivers.
If I was going out, now was the time—but I couldn't muster the courage.
"Ugh!"
Yelling alone in my studio gave my wilted body a spark of energy.
It was routine stuff, yet my new appearance had me scared for no reason.
"Let's go, Ga-eul! It's the same old thing. What's there to fear?"
Mid-February, the chill hadn't fully lifted. To avoid freezing, I needed to bundle up tight.
I opened the closet door and realized something was seriously wrong.
I'd psyched myself up to head out, but all my clothes were oversized even for my old bulky frame—now utterly unwearable.
Forcing them on would mean they'd slip off with the slightest move.
I needed clothes before I could make money.
Which meant my way to earn...
I looked around. Stuff littered the floor.
"...Used goods trading."
Thinking of that, I scanned again—plenty of arm-sized items caught my eye.
Forget saving them; I needed to open that shop thing first to make progress.
I stood up, but my suddenly altered build made even light movement feel off—my body wouldn't cooperate.
Steadying my wobble, I shuffled to the desk. First thing I spotted: a 150,000-won watch like the drama lead wore.
My eyes lit up.
I'd once bought a cheap scooter for delivery gigs that paid well. And an even pricier helmet to avoid dying.
"Next!"
Snap photos, upload to the used trading site.
My already bare studio felt emptier by the minute.
The 10kg sack of rice I'd bought to eat, still unopened.
The electronics self-caterers call the "three gods"—plus the trendy air fryer that joined the club.
I sold my future.
Today only.
Food? Ramen's fine.
In a trance, I listed everything except the underwear I had on.
"Hoo."
Gathering the listings, exhaustion hit me late.
"Hot water, hot water."
Hit the boiler, dragged my dust-caked body from day labor to the bathroom.
Trailing clothes like a snake shedding skin on the slow walk.
Like Hansel and Gretel marking territory, I reached the bathroom—greeted by a chill worse than a jjimjilbang's cold room.
Crank the hot water till steam filled the air, then stared blankly at the mirror. It stared right back.
"Whoa... man or woman?"
The exclamation slipped out.
A-cup-at-best chest, barely there.
Tanned, rough skin from heavy labor.
Dull sky-blue eyes, overcast like storm clouds begging for an umbrella.
Cracked lips, like an earthquake hit.
Hands screaming "hard life"—aunties would coo in pity.
Dry, frizzy hair Par botched dyeing.
From navel to toes, even the military would shake their head.
"This is supposed to be a... saintess?"
Total disaster.
After numbly inspecting myself, I let the shower's warm water soak my body.
Steam rose as the heat hit my chilled skin, melting me away.
"Kkeueo, perfect."
No audience, so I got bold.
—Squeak, squeak.
With hair this long, one pump usually sufficed before, but now it took squeezes galore.
Prime saintess shampoo test: massive bubbles or bust.
Lathered up, rinsed—surprisingly stubborn suds.
Men showered in 10 minutes tops; now I got why women took an hour.
Squeeze after squeeze, finally wrapping up.
Stepped out, remembered something I'd seen somewhere, and loosely turbaned my dripping hair with a towel.
"Like this?"
Time to wrap up the day.
Left the hair dripping, grabbed an oversized men's hoodie and training pants from the closet.
—Thud.
Pulled up the pants and let go—they plummeted straight down.
"Damn it."
Waistband wouldn't cut it.
Snagged a clothespin from the drying rack, bunched the excess, clipped.
Still baggy.
But slow-walking should keep them up. Grabbed smokes and lighter from the desk, headed out.
At the doorway, my breath fogged.
"Haa, freezing."
Pulled a cig, lit it with the lighter.
—Click, click.
"Hoo—"
Staring blankly at the pitch-black night sky, the cig burned down fast.
Stubbed the filter, back inside for brushing, then crashed my heavy body onto the bed.
What a chaotic day.
Here's hoping tomorrow's sales go big.