Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: How Does the World Work?
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Anyway, for those reasons.
I headed out with my little sister for the first time in ages.
No, I tried to.
"You're going out like that?"
"Huh?"
I'd changed clothes and was about to step out when my little sister grabbed me.
The look in her eyes as she stared at me was anything but normal.
They gleamed like a snake's, and having raised her since she was little, I knew exactly what that meant.
It was the gaze of a predator spotting prey.
Back in the day, even Grandpa could never talk her out of it when her eyes got like that.
"In that getup?"
They say animals have an instinct for sensing danger.
My mental danger alarm was blaring like crazy.
My survival instincts were screaming at me.
Run! Run now!
I glanced around cautiously and bolted for the front door the moment she looked away.
Click, click.
"What the—? Why won't this open?!"
I fumbled with the handle in panic.
Then, like a scene from a horror movie, my sister's voice whispered right in my ear, silent as a ghost until then.
"I locked it."
"Why'd you do that?"
"There was some weird woman in our house with my brother. Figured I'd keep her from running off."
"What kind of... Wait, what if that weird woman tried to hurt you?"
"I figured I'd win."
Not surprising at all—my sister was a black belt in jiu-jitsu.
That's why I compared her to a martial arts master.
When she was little and wanted to do sports, I scraped together every penny to send her to jiu-jitsu lessons.
She didn't just dominate her peers; she took down upperclassmen too and became top dog.
Her instructor swore a black belt was no pipe dream.
I busted my ass supporting her, thinking we'd finally have a gold medalist in the family.
But this damn girl turned down a pro offer because "jiu-jitsu doesn't pay."
And then she quit the academy behind my back!
I was this close to smacking her upside the head, but I held back since I'd probably lose in a fight.
After that, she buckled down on studies and ended up getting into a pretty prestigious university. I'd all but forgotten about it...
"I've made a dozen girls cry by twisting their joints."
I nearly became her personal joint-popping doll.
If I hadn't proven I was her brother, that's exactly what would've happened.
My back was soaked.
Was this cold sweat?
"Han Jeong-ho. Back to your seat."
"Yes, ma'am."
She sat me down and rummaged through her bag, pulling out all sorts of stuff.
Tiny scissors, women's powder, a weirdly shaped brush, pens. Even square packs whose purpose I couldn't begin to guess.
It was a small bag, but it spat out a ridiculous amount of junk.
Like one of those four-dimensional pockets from manga.
"Come here. I'll do your makeup."
"And if I refuse?"
"You'll get to feel every single bone in your body up close and personal."
"You know what? I've always loved makeup."
For a lifelong bachelor like me, whose face had only ever known water, soap, and camouflage cream, makeup was pure torture.
She smeared some weird cushion thing all over my face, slathered on sticky goop, painted like a famous artist with a brush, then threatened my eyes with scissor-like tweezers.
"Ack! Stop! The secret base is Dongdaemun Station Exit 3...!"
"Don't open your mouth. You'll get powder in it."
Today, I truly appreciated the greatness of our Korean patriots who'd endured torture.
I couldn't fathom what kind of mental fortitude let our ancestors withstand interrogations that had me spilling top-secret base locations.
Layers of gunk piling on my face reminded me of childhood, smearing playground mud all over myself.
Like a dying flashback montage, memories unspooled in panorama.
Oh, there's five-year-old Ye-eun.
The clingy "Oppa! Oppa!" phase, when she was total big-bro bird.
Man, she was cute back then.
Then, like an old film reel, new scenes flickered by.
Ye-eun doing rhythmic gymnastics at the elementary school festival.
Ye-eun beaming after her middle school entrance ceremony.
Then her stormy rebellious phase, all venomous glares, and skipping school on graduation day.
My mind drifted hazily toward her high school entrance...
Then my sister's voice snapped me back.
"There, done!"
"Long live Korean independence!"
Today was a national holiday of liberation.
I vowed to circle it in red on the calendar.
She handed me a hand mirror.
"Take a look."
The reflection showed a completely different woman from this morning.
If morning me was just a pretty girl, this was full-on TV celebrity.
"What do you think? Suits you, right?"
"This isn't makeup. It's a disguise..."
Ever wonder why Count Asura only did half his face?
Dr. Hell might not recognize his minion otherwise.
I resolved never to trust a made-up woman's face again.
"Isn't this a bit much, though? Like you're heading to an idol audition."
"Just basic foundation. Your natural beauty shines through, so even this looks pretty."
"When did 'basic' change definitions without telling me...?"
I had no idea how the world worked anymore.
A world where a guy goes out full makeup? Just end it all.
"Good thing I brought nipple patches."
I got nipple patches slapped on for the first time ever.
I freaked out at the assault on my masculine dignity, but her jiu-jitsu black belt knee to the gut forced compliance.
"Wear this."
Today, I lost sovereignty over my own life.
*
After all that hassle, the siblings finally stepped outside.
But things weren't smooth from the start.
The ordeal they thought was over was just the calm before the storm.
The moment they exited, stares poured in from all sides.
Everyone gawked like they'd spotted a zebra escaped from the zoo.
Some groups whispered as they looked our way.
"What're you staring at? Never seen makeup before?!"
I wanted to yell that, but...
Guess my confidence shrank along with my height.
Zebras causing a street ruckus get tranquilized, so I kept quiet and moved on.
As I tried tuning out the world with downcast eyes...
One guy broke from the crowd and approached us.
"Excuse me! You're totally my type. Could I get your number?"
The onlooker turned out to be a hunter.
This wild pickup artist injected tension into the lax street vibe.
Already in a foul mood, his presence reignited my inner beast.
You? Hitting on my sister?
I glared daggers at him.
Did the guy have nine lives or something?
Daring to ask for her number right in front of her brother.
His confidence was admirable in a manly way, but as her brother, no dice.
With my eyes blazing, I couldn't let it slide.
"No thanks. Actually, could I get your number?"
Wait, what?
His phone was aimed at me.
I twisted away, but he followed.
Stunned, I blurted,
"Me?"
"Yes! You're exactly my type!"
"?"
What nonsense was this?
My face twisted like I'd heard a bull lost to a frog in a fight.
I wracked my sluggish brain to process, but the words wouldn't compute.
My mind rejected them outright.
Uh... um, wait.
Let me sort this slowly.
This guy asked me for my number.
Called me his type.
Did "type" have some secret meaning I didn't know?
Like "type" meaning role model?
Maybe he said "sparring" and I misheard.
'Wanna spar sometime? Gimme your number?'
Amateur boxer.
Always tripping at pro level, but passionate go-getter.
One day, teammates tell him,
'Sorry, sparring with you isn't practice.'
'Find someone else, buddy.'
They all go pro, leaving him partnerless.
Dejected, he wanders seeking a new one.
Today, he spots me on the street.
Aura of a true powerhouse. How's she in the ring?
Can't resist—proposes a spar—
Nope, not it.
"You're my ideal type."
Hunting.
Real hunting.
He genuinely liked me and was hitting on me.
No matter how open the world got, guy-on-guy pickups? Fundamental question.
Guys really swap numbers? No punches thrown?
Was I out of touch with progress?
Unless LGBT went legal nationwide while I was in the army, impossible.
But it happened to me.
It really did...
"Excuse me?"
No answer, so he pressed.
I had to refuse.
Refuse.
How do you even...?
Natural ways to turn down same-sex confessions? Not in any book.
Even S University grads couldn't solve this.
I shot Ye-eun a desperate look.
Help me, Ye-eun-mon...!
She'd been watching with glee.
Finally stepping up.
"Sorry, but my sister... pfft, has a boyfriend... heh."
She choked on "sister" and "boyfriend," but got the message across.
Hearing "boyfriend," he sighed regretfully and backed off.
A few other guys watching did the same.
I stared blankly at the bizarre scene.
What... what did this mean?
Then, giggling from beside me.
Ye-eun chirped excitedly.
"Whoa~ Han Hyo-jeong~ You're popular~?"
How does the world work?
"And to think he'd try snagging my number right in front of his sister. Does he have multiple lives or what?"
How on earth does it work...?