Chapter 2
Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: From Now On, Your Name Is Hyo-jeong
-----------------------------------------------------------------
If I had to sum up the life of a man named Han Jeong-ho, he'd be your average South Korean guy. Nothing more, nothing less.
Not particularly outstanding in any way, but he hadn't lived a life that was notably lacking either.
If you lined up everyone in the world, he'd slot right in the middle of the pack.
That said, if I had to pick out something unique, it was probably getting abandoned by his parents at a young age.
He'd raised his little sister single-handedly as the family's breadwinner boy, only to get slapped with a draft notice the moment he turned legal age.
He'd looked into why he wasn't exempt, and turns out the names of those deadbeats who ditched them were still on the family registry. So he didn't qualify as an orphan with no ties.
Ended up diving headfirst into Nonsan in the end.
Some might call that pretty unfortunate.
But on a global scale, I'd say it's average.
Most kids in the world starve to death without even a single meal anyway.
A month ago, right after discharge, he'd scraped together 6 million won from his military savings and snagged a one-room with a 5 million deposit and 400k monthly rent.
Not some moldy semi-basement, and hot water flowed without a hitch.
After that, part-time gigs covered just enough to eat and get by, so yeah, you could call it a pretty happy life.
"Argh. This fuckin' sucks."
Thinking it over again, there was one thing that pissed him off.
Not getting exempted from service? Fine, whatever. Every guy born in Korea has to go at least once.
But goddamn. How the hell did this happen right after discharge?
Honestly, that shit made him furious.
Any vet would sympathize.
'Gyaak! Gyaaaaaah!!'
Unfair! So fucking unfair!
Should've gone two years later!
That bastard platoon sergeant! That trashy corporal Kim!
You think you're hot shit spinning like that?
Follow me to the training grounds, you punk!
He clutched his head, writhing in agony on the floor.
Flopping around like a fresh-caught flounder when his sister Ye-eun, who'd been watching quietly from the side, clicked her tongue.
"What a loser."
Girls who never served can't understand.
He didn't want to stir up gender wars, but honestly, shouldn't women have to go too?
If national duty's split by sex, doesn't that just breed pointless division?
'...No.'
A sudden wave of unease flashed through him.
Han Jeong-ho was a vet. Undeniable fact—no cruise ship could sink that.
But now? Could you even call this him Han Jeong-ho?
Even if he yelled he'd done his service looking like this, the draft board wouldn't buy it.
They'd laugh in his face—"Who the hell are you?"—and issue a fresh summons.
It was enough to drive him insane, but the real problem? No way to prove he was Han Jeong-ho.
Leading to the ultimate fuckup: getting drafted all over again...
Yeah, women definitely shouldn't have to go.
"Urgh, your big bro will protect you... Sleep tight, kiddo..."
"Eww, why's she like this."
"Total bro vibe."
He stared into the mirror, and some inexplicable beauty stared back.
A face he still couldn't get used to reflected there.
Long, flowing hair down to her waist.
Big round eyes with lashes long enough to swing on.
Skin pale and flawless, not a blemish in sight.
Breasts pretty sizable too—about twice his sister's size.
Height around 160? Maybe 165? Hard to tell. From his perspective, it was all shorty territory anyway.
How could a person change this much overnight?
Not some girlfriend's petty "You've changed" gripe—this was a full DNA-level reversal, unexplained even in this high-tech era.
Like the cause vanished, leaving only the result dangling there.
For a guy who valued plot logic in movies, it was vomit-inducing.
"How about seeing a doctor?"
That was his sister, piping up as she came out of the bathroom.
"Hell no."
To a real man, the hospital's for when you're like, "Whoa, this might actually kill me."
Plus, how the fuck do you explain it to a doc?
Woke up and my junk's gone?
Boobs grew, shrank a bit, voice went high?
Next thing, you're checked into the psych ward.
Even if the doc's some empathy super-F and buys it wholesale.
That'd just spawn bigger problems.
'They'd call it a new human frontier and turn you into a lab rat.'
Yeah.
He was the new breed of human.
Maybe even the prototype for a world-shaking magical girl.
Wait... what if...?
"Transformation release."
Silence.
"Status window?"
Nothing.
"Inventory!"
"...Pfft!"
Other commands popped up too—status, logout, whatever.
But he couldn't bring himself to try with Ye-eun eyeing him like he was putting on a clown show for her amusement.
"Nom nom."
After the brief commotion.
They tore into some chicken while discussing the future.
FYI, Ye-eun ordered it.
"So nobody else knows Big Bro turned into... this... except me?"
"Yup."
Luckily, his social circle was tiny.
A handful of school buddies he texted now and then.
Phone contacts? Could count 'em on two hands.
Off the top: Kim Taek-su, Oh Byung-tae, Yoo Min-sik...
Holy shit, look at that lineup.
His contacts list was straight-up blacklisted from today.
Good thing it was his sister at the door.
If it'd been Kim Taek-su? Or Oh Byung-tae or Yoo Min-sik picking the lock?
Just imagining it gave him chills all over.
Ye-eun just thought it was wild and bought chicken, but those common-sense-deficient idiots? God knows what they'd do—terrifying to even picture.
They'd absolutely socially execute him.
Hell, one might snap and hang himself.
-Han Jeong-ho leaves only a suicide note behind before departing the world.-
FYI, he'd already drafted the note.
[Please engrave on my tombstone: 'He was one hell of a man's man.']
[From Han Jeong-ho.]
May he be reborn a ripped macho next life.
Amen.
"Maybe it'll wear off after a night's sleep?"
"Sure hope so."
No clue on cause, no clue on fix.
What triggered it?
Redo yesterday's routine—maybe it'd flip back.
But what'd he even do yesterday?
Weekdays were work, but yesterday was Saturday.
Weekend routine: three big ones.
Morning jog, sweat it out hard.
Grab a big bowl of seolleongtang on the way back.
Home for some quality time with Junior downstairs, flexing peak manhood...
A censored parade of stuff he couldn't say in front of sis.
As he clammed up, Ye-eun voiced her worry.
"What if you can't go back?"
"We're fucked."
Fucked for real.
Goddamn.
His lifelong downstairs buddy, never used once, now gone forever.
The news hit his desert-dry tear ducts with a splash of moisture.
"Big Bro... wait, should I call you sis now?"
"Fuck off."
"Pfft! Damn, Han lady. Why's your mouth so foul? A girl's gotta be all cute and cutesy, y'know?"
"Fuck off no."
She was trying to full-on reprogram him.
"Might as well change your name too while we're at it."
"Name?"
"Han Jeong-ho's too manly. Awkward if you run into someone you know."
Ye-eun's ideas were usually trash, but this one had merit.
His name wasn't super unique, but better safe.
Especially with prime suspects like Kim Taek-su and Oh Byung-tae still lurking.
Had to fully sever old him from new him.
Wipe every scrap that could ID him.
"In that spirit, call me Kang Baek-ho from now on."
"Different surname."
"Han Baek-ho sounds off."
Other flashy candidates: Choi Tae-sik, Ma Jeong-du, Kang Tae-pung, Kim Su-ho, etc.
All shot down without a second thought.
"Ye-ji, Min-ji—too common."
"Eh..."
"Reverse Han Jeong-ho: Ho-jeong... Hyo-jeong-ah... Hyo-jeong? How 'bout Han Hyo-jeong?"
"That's... meh."
The parade of girly names made his inner macho squirm in disgust.
Sure, his looks could slap any female celeb silly, but inside? Still reeking of pure dudebro.
Han Hyo-jeong was a bridge too far.
Just hearing it conjured images of her in a frilly dress hawking soda ads.
No way in hell.
If he did ads, it'd be savage beast-mode men's skincare. Already set in stone.
"Han Hyo-jeong... Han Hyo-jeong fits perfect."
But to this emotionless T-icopath, big bro's desperate plea fell on deaf ears.
At this rate, he'd be stuck with "Han Hyo-jeong" pinned to his chest, no escape.
Recognizing the dire straits, he pleaded frantically.
"How 'bout Han Ho? Single syllable, clean. Han Ho."
"Lame. Just go with Hyo-jeong."
"..."
Maybe he never had a choice to begin with.
Like a fool salmon battling the current, doomed to sweep away in the mighty Han Ye-eun airstream.
Fine. Guess he was Han Hyo-jeong all along.
A machine doll implanted with Han Jeong-ho's memories. Han Hyo-jeong MK2.
The mad scientist Dr. Han Ye-eun, so heartbroken over her departed big bro she delved into forbidden realms, birthing this masterpiece.
That was him.
Kikiq... creak.
Master. Awaiting orders.
"From now on, your name is Hyo-jeong."
The killer machine slowly nods at the doctor's words.
No emotions in its programming, yet its face somehow looked sad.
"Name's settled. Now, ID..."
He didn't drink or smoke, but yeah, life's gonna demand ID sometime, his sister insisted sharply.
True. Couldn't flash a Han Jeong-ho mug every time.
He nodded vigorously.
"Know any shady brokers?"
Movies had guys forging IDs for cash.
Wishful thinking—no pawn shop creeps or ex-NIS retirees in her network.
What'd she do while big bro defended the nation? he grumbled inwardly at her incompetence.
Then she tossed another fix.
"Just hit the community center and ask to change it?"
"That easy?"
"Oh, right—gender mismatch means no ID verification."
This shitshow sucked on its own, but the worst? No proof he was him.
'You gotta come in person for ID renewal.'
'I am in person.'
'No, Han Jeong-ho has to come.'
'I am Han Jeong-ho!'
Infinite Tsukuyomi desk jockey loop.
As he mentally bickered with the clerk.
His pondering sister chimed in with a new idea.
"How 'bout applying for gender correction first?"
"Gender correction?"
"Say you got the peanut snipped. Pfft!"
"...You nuts?"
Absurd.
Equating his lost manhood to neutering a pet cat.
His missing piece was a global catastrophe.
All the women in the world weeping in memorial wouldn't cut it, and she says peanut?
Rage hit late.
This couch-potato menace needed manners drilled in ASAP.
Suuuuuck.
Deep breath, filling the lungs.
Charge.
One round loaded.
.
.
.
.
Fire!
"Gooo!! Watch your mouth with your sky-high big bro, Han Ye-eun!!!"
"Whoa! Listen to that soprano."
But his mighty roar bounced harmlessly off her ironclad demonic arts deflection.
Worse, she ragged on him—"Opera major?" "Best soprano ever!"—flipping the heavens and enraging the gods.
Anyway, after all the back-and-forth, they tabled the ID change for later.
Just like turning girl outta nowhere, who knows—poof back to guy someday.
Finally revert, only to get slapped with trans label? Holy shit no.
Hold off for now.
"Let's go shopping for clothes then."
"Clothes? What clothes?"
"You're smaller now—old stuff won't fit."
"Oh, shit."
She nailed a blind spot.
His current outfit? Perfect muscle-fit yesterday, now baggy as hell.
A man's three prides.
Height, muscles, and down there.
Losing all three crashed over him in despair.
"Say it now, but your fashion sense was trash anyway, Big Bro."
Her casual jab pierced his fragile bro-heart dead center.