Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Han Ye-eun, Is She a Goddess?
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Heading home with arms full of shopping bags.
In the process, I ran into those hunting guys a whopping four more times.
Is this the new trend these days or something?
Is picking up numbers on the street the latest fad among the popular crowd?
Are "in crowd" types not some mythical creature after all?
These rare species that are usually impossible to spot are swarming today for some reason.
Once, a pair of bastards even tried to hit on my little sister in tandem. I nearly smashed them with a rage-fueled slap right then and there.
If Ye-eun hadn't brushed them off like a pro, we'd probably be at the police station sharing heartfelt introductions by now.
Final score: 4 to 1.
My side got the 4.
It was an outing that left nothing but wounds on both sides.
Back home, I dumped the shopping bags on the floor.
Seeing my already rat-shit-sized studio crammed without room to step made my mood sour.
It was because of the unexpected spending.
Burning through 500,000 won in a single day weighed on my heart like a thousand pounds.
They were gifts from Ye-eun, sure, but how much money could a college student really have?
This was all debt to me. Accepting the sentiment was enough.
With that in mind, I looked at my sister with the proud gaze of a parent watching their kid pin a carnation on them for Parents' Day.
"Send me your account number later. I'll wire you the money."
"What are you talking about?"
But no.
What came back was a scoff, like it was ridiculous.
"I don't need pocket change from my brother anymore."
What the hell, Ye-eun?
Her head thrown back high, chin jutting out coolly—it was straight out of her middle school chuunibyou phase.
Did a second puberty hit her late or something?
As PTSD from that era bubbled up, I swallowed a small groan.
Memories flashed of my efforts to reform Dark Ye-eunmon.
Who corrupted our sweet Ye-eun?!
Did she start hanging with delinquents at college or something?
But do delinquents even exist in college?
As someone who's never been, I had no clue.
Do they call the professors when students fight there too...?
People sometimes need their personal time.
Not necessarily to do something shady or embarrassing.
"Ye-eun. Aren't you going home?"
That was to Ye-eun, who'd been rolling around in my room all day.
The sun was dipping low.
No idea what there was to see in this tiny single room, but she was just lying on the bed fiddling with her phone, showing no signs of leaving.
At this rate, she'd crash here overnight.
"Yeah. I'm sleeping here."
This was for real.
"Ye-eun. Don't you think it's too cramped for two in this tiny studio?"
"It's fine."
She really planned to stay.
Feeling the crisis, I barked.
"Go home!! Men and women should keep distance—how can a brother and sister share a bed?!"
"Then you sleep on the floor."
"What about a change of clothes?"
"Plenty in the closet."
She was a total home invader...
Truth be told, Han Ye-eun had her reasons.
She'd planned to just drop by, but seeing her transformed brother worried her.
But it was cramped for two.
I said I was fine and tried sending her off, but apparently I didn't look reliable in her eyes.
"Or come to our place?"
She even said that.
"Your place? Dorm?"
As far as I knew, she lived in the university dorm.
So "our place" meant the dorm.
Can non-students even enter dorms?
Impressive openness from a top university.
Come to think of it, the dorm rent was pricier than average apartments.
I'd gasped when I first heard—this insane school is loaded.
Great facilities, but still felt off.
"Not the dorm. I got a jeonse recently. Pretty spacious—room for two easy."
"Jeonse? You? What the hell are you saying, Ye-eun?"
Jeonse. A word worlds away from us siblings. I blinked.
Like running into a classmate who's suddenly decked in luxury watches and cars after a short absence.
You start grasping for dirt, as usual.
Did that guy scam it?
Money source looks shady.
He's definitely breaking norms.
I narrowed my eyes, wondering if my sister was into something illegal.
"I do streams now."
"Streams?"
So many shocks today.
Before I enlisted, she was a freshman. When did she debut?
We scrimped for college, and now idols...?
"So, group name?"
An older brother should support her path.
With her looks, center... objectively tough, but maybe third from the side.
Let's call it the tail end—barely noticeable, small fanbase.
Mostly chorus parts, rumors of bullying, but ignored by the public. That position.
I nodded knowingly, but she denied it.
"Not that. Nutube. Internet streams."
"Oh, internet streams."
I'd watched a few.
"That pays that well? Enough for a house?"
Even a small place needs millions in deposit.
For internet streams, in under two years? Suspicious.
"How many subs?"
First I heard of her streaming.
Subs are like battle power on Nutube.
Wondering her power level for homeownership.
Ho ho, your battle power is 50,000!
Like a scouter. She flashed three fingers.
"300k."
"Lie and your hand flies off."
"For real."
300k.
An insane number—even a bluff would get "where's your conscience?"
I knew it was huge, internet noob or not.
"300k? You?"
"What's that look mean?"
"Know last year's newborns in Korea? 300k. You're saying every newborn subbed your channel. You're their baby prez now?"
"Dunno about prez. But I'm hot lately. Even got a chicken ad."
"What chicken."
"The BBC we ate earlier. Sponsor coupon."
"......"
This sneak attacked with chicken.
Deny it, and free chicken vanishes.
"My sister's amazing."
I'd long compromised with reality.
Congratulated her, but still skeptical—subtly asked her channel.
"Teacher Ye's Beauty Life?"
Cheesy name.
Naming sense was trash—my name too. Not just me suffering.
True iconoclast breaks themselves.
Wish she'd used a naming service for kids someday.
"Why Teacher Ye? You're Han."
"Sounded good?"
Simple reason.
Pulled up Nutube, searched "Ye Teacher"—related "Beauty Life" popped.
Cute girl profile.
[Teacher Ye's Beauty Life] [307k]
307,000 subs.
"How does the world even work."
Army ruins people—truth.
Couldn't keep up.
My sister a 300k Nutuber.
Looked at her anew—shoulders like a mountain.
Annoying swagger.
"Beauty—makeup stuff?"
"Yeah. Mainly beauty content, but trying various things lately."
Her makeup skills weren't amateur—commanding 300k troops.
"Money? Monthly haul?"
She flashed one finger.
"Million won?"
Headshake.
"Ten... million?"
Nod.
"Lady Han Ye-eun, need a meal, laundry, cleaning helper?"
I bowed deeply, shocked.
Some might say no pride, but earners were always big bro/sis types.
Classic sibling reversal.
"How impressive, milady."
Massaging her arm.
"Ahem. Ahem."
She tilted her chin, full celeb pose.
Shoulders from Baekdu to Everest.
Earlier annoying, now head-of-household weight.
"Damn. Maybe I should Nutube too."
Words slipped out.
Part-time lifetime couldn't touch that.
"For real? Wanna collab?"
Unexpected reaction.
"Nah, just talk."
Streaming's talent territory.
Wonder why they earn so much? Try it—reality bites.
Easy looks mean they're just good.
Remembered a streamer headspinning for donations.
Not that far, but overacting, fake surprise. Most were like that.
Me, teased as wooden among friends—no confidence.
Ye-eun smacked lips disappointedly, but didn't push.
Late night.
Packed spare clothes, followed her out.
She fiddled phone—call taxi arrived. Black luxury sedan.
Called model taxi stone-faced.
Old me would've mocked show-off; now, knowing her earnings, fresh view.
Ooh, earner's flex...!
"Damn, insane. First model taxi. Wow, seats? Butt sinking in."
"Embarrassing—shut up."
"This why you need a good sister. My butt's living luxury."
"Pfft, you're crazy."
Driver's fond smile in mirror.
Male trait: praise car, clown ascends.
But praiseworthy ride.
"Heh, you sisters seem close. My girls wanna eat each other."
"Yes, raised her from diaper days, haha."
Can't resist kid brag.
Dad chat flowing—then sharp side jab.
Sister gone, demon yaksha sat there.
"Zreung gru."
Monster: Quiet.
Her glaring eyes cut convo.
Driver chuckled ruefully.
"Take care getting home."
"Thanks!"
"Cornering was art."
Late night, insisted dropping two ladies at door for safety—cheerful laugh followed.
"Building's nuts."
Stared at sleek officetel.
302—unlocked, clean interior unfolded.
"One empty room—use that."
Beyond living room, kitchen, bath: three more rooms.
Got one—still unreal, scanned everywhere.
"Han Ye-eun, is she a goddess?"
New build? Walls spotless, interiors neat.
Homeowner at 22.
Sister felt epic.
This why parents push college.
Finally got it.
Me, still part-timing at this age—worlds apart from birth.
"...But what's this sticky feeling."
Jealous of hot sister?
Cousins ache at land buys, but not me.
Brother celebrates success.
Specifically after.
Unease in self-deprecation.
"...Unlike me, drifting part-time?"
Part-time... part-time... Wait. Part-time?
"Oh shit, PART-TIME?!"
Finally dawned: enlisted, got PC bang job right away.
One month in.
Totally forgot.
"Crazy. Go with this body?"
Grabbed phone, found boss contact.
Hit call—paused.
"Voice."
Voice changed too.
Switched to message.
[Me: Boss. Han Jeong-ho here, weekday mornings. Thing is...]
Long text: sick, sending sub.
Late, but quick reply.
[Boss: Okay.]
[Boss: Sub's name?]
Thought, typed.
[Me: Han Hyo-jeong. Sharp kid, works great.]
[Boss: Got it. Rest up.]
[Me: Yep. Thanks. Night.]
See? Blunt words hide care.
Accepted sudden sub no fuss—true modern man's man.
Respect unavoidable.
Invisible to him, but bowed phone big twice.
"Bowing hard."
Caught by post-shower sister—minor mishap.
Truly minor.