Earth: Like Junior, Like Senior?
Anzelli finally let go of her anger after I apologized several times in a row. But I had to admit one thing first: angels don't use the bathroom.
"Don't ever make that mistake again, got it? Angels don't go to the bathroom!"
She planted her hands on her hips and warned me like a scolding teacher. I nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Good! I forgive you."
Forgiveness only came after I fully owned up to my misunderstanding.
Clink clink...
In the corner of the kitchen cabinet, I luckily unearthed a dusty old coffee pot. Naturally, there were no tea bags in the house. Just as I was about to head to the nearby convenience store for some cheap ones, Anzelli blocked my path.
"I was going to treat you to the tea I already had. Just sit tight and wait, okay?"
She pulled a canister of tea leaves out of thin air and shooed me out of the kitchen.
A moment later, she returned with two steaming cups. The tea was a pale yellowish-brown, with a subtle red tint swirling faintly over a green base.
I took a sip.
"What kind is this? The aroma is so unique."
It tasted tart like omija berries, with a gentle, unfamiliar fragrance that seeped into my nostrils. The scent wasn't overpowering, but it felt incredibly refined—probably expensive. My head cleared up, and a refreshing sensation washed over me.
I wasn't much of a tea drinker usually. But this? Worth making time for.
"Mm... good for the body? How is it? Like it?"
"Out of all the teas I've ever had in my life..."
You have consumed Cloud Tree Tea!
Effect:Concentration + for 30 minutes. Immune to stress for 30 minutes.
"...this one's the best by far."
The system window popped up right after the sip. I figured tea brewed by an angel would be special, but this effect was on another level. No numbers shown, but I could definitely feel my concentration sharpening. The difference before and after was night and day.
"Really? Hehe! Glad you like it! I have plenty, so I'll give you some. Can't hand over anything else because of the rules... but tea leaves should be fine, right?"
She offered me the canister of leaves. She planned to stick around Earth by my side for a while, so she could brew me more anytime. But giving me the leaves themselves? Only one reason for that.
"You sure it's okay?"
"Yeah... it's fine. Not a big deal, just a little gift between friends!"
How could I refuse after that? I accepted the canister from Anzelli.
And just like that, a fantasy item called Cloud Tree Tea was added to my shop inventory. I itched to open the system window and check the details right away, but that would've been rude to my gift-giving host. Gratitude first.
"Thanks. I'll savor it. Made from cloud tree leaves, right?"
Plus, with chit-chat on the agenda, what better topic than this gift? No need for the system—I could just ask her.
"Oh! The system told you the name, huh? Yeah, it's pretty rare. Made from leaves of the cloud trees grown in the Eden Garden of the heavenly realm..."
Our conversation flowed pleasantly.
*
The first chapter of Terraforming wrapped up safely. It ended on a cliffhanger at episode 57, so there weren't tons of major events, but the big ones were still huge.
There was a near-death crisis. But no mental shock whatsoever. No stress, no fear, no trauma left behind.
Part of it was my own resolve, but Natural Healing played a huge role too. No aftereffects meant I could dive straight into the next novel without issue.
One problem, though: the time gap between Earth and Terraforming. Rapid fat loss? I could pass it off as "liposuction." But growing 15cm in height over a few days? Way too suspicious. Even half a month would raise eyebrows, but in my book, it'd fly.
Still, better show my face at college when possible. Perfect timing—today was Monday. Lecture day.
...
Park Chanyoung stood out at university. Paradoxically, though, no one paid me any attention.
No close friends, no classmates' contacts in my messenger, not even added to group chats.
Over the weekend, I'd grown about 5cm taller and dropped 8kg. Anzelli measured it—spot on.
But no one close enough to notice. To them, +5cm still made me short, and -8kg left me morbidly obese.
Feels like way more than 8kg, though... Ah, probably muscle gain from Natural Healing? Density-wise, the fat loss might be even greater...
Muscle tearing and regenerating at insane speeds meant growth would be off the charts too. Who knows—maybe chiseled abs lurked under this blubber.
Pre-body swap me would've scoffed: "Abs after a week of training? Bullshit from noobs or steroid junkies." But after that hellish regimen? Dead serious. High chance.
Abs or not, gotta drop the BMI first for it to show.
Thud.
I plopped into an empty seat in the half-full lecture hall. Right now, making friends was the last thing I needed. Earth-time, I'd transform again in under a month.
Murmurs...
A pack of hot guys and girls paired off and entered the room, buzzing with high energy—gossiping about someone's love life, probably.
"...That stud's got such a catch into him? No way..."
"Right? They look good together... I'd love if they made it official."
"But he swore off CC—no campus couples."
"Mm... but she's hot. Guys love that most."
"...Way to paint us as trash. Can't even argue..."
"Hey, any girls crushing on me? My face is top-tier."
"Uncle, face reality..."
Familiar faces. I barely remembered names and ages now, but we'd once hung out.
Recall the chit-chat, but not the details. Makes sense—mostly personal stuff, so erased from memory.
Only their personalities lingered vaguely. Surprisingly? Zero sadness or regret at losing "friends." Hundreds of connections vanished—not one pang.
Hence my current cynicism toward relationships. No drive to buddy up indiscriminately like before. Especially not with dudes.
Last crew I rolled with pre-swap was them... Where's that asshole?
No sign of him—the one who'd fit right in.
Car crash? Fingers crossed. Could gorge on six bowls of yukgaejang at the funeral.
Nah. Better handle him myself. Stay alive... for now...
My prayers worked. A familiar hulking frame strolled in: towering height, long legs, swole-but-not-too-much muscles (women call my perfect build "lean"—gym bros would rage), just-right branded clothes, broad shoulders, handsome fa—handsome? What the hell happened to his face?
"??... Baek Hamin? That's you, right? What the fuck are those glasses?"
One of the popular crowd spotted him and called out. Impressive he recognized the guy. Even I did a double-take—didn't know my old mug was that wrecked.
Insane nearsightedness, he'd said? Yeah, he wore glasses. But not just any—the problem was the style.
Normal folks pick big, oval-lensed fashion frames. Not this clown. Tiny lenses, barely two fingers high. Black horn-rims like some middle-schooler forced by Mom. Ruined my once-charming face completely.
Thick-ass lenses shrank his eyes to a third size via illusion. Total disaster.
"Huh? Just 'cause my eyes suck..."
"Dude... we knew you wore lenses, but... never wear glasses again. Lenses forever. Please."
"Penalty game or what? Square horn-rims are legendary... turns a normie into a mega-nerd instantly."
"Puhaha! Hilarious! Whose prank is this? Who dragged him into that?"
"Never thought I'd say this, but... you look ugly as hell. Pfft!"
"This... precious moment. Pic for before/after on FB? 100k likes easy."
Click!
"Ack?... N-no... no pics..."
"Too late. Posted."
"Sick. Already 10 comments."
"Congrats on the eternal shame-pic, Hamin!"
Baek Hamin froze amid the popular kids' roast, face beet-red. My relationship memories were just data in his head—using them? Amateur hour.
That's popular life? Nah, couldn't hack it... Legend.
That's not popular—that's clown level. Heh heh heh!
Pfft... Text him later, gotta ask.
Lecture's done for... Too hooked on the drama to focus.
Onlooker classmates who'd watched jumped in, turning Baek Hamin into the hot topic. All familiar faces—occasional lunch buddies, messenger chats. Not super tight, but not distant.
That's why the brutal roasts flew free.
Everyone here was kinda-sorta friends with me.
Except Park Chanyoung.
Wonder if he even checks a mirror? What brain-dead impulse led to those nerd specs?
Thinking back, the guy never thought deeply. Told the door password to some random janitor.
How'd that rock-head even get into this uni with me?
Angel's memories: squeaked in via "special admission for orphans/disabled without normal schooling." Fuck. Why'd I inherit that too? Annoying.
I could've gotten in straight but chose the special track to max my score from 99% to 100%. No regrets.
Ah... grades...
Grades... might not hurt. Knew on day one post-swap, but he'd harvested all my hard-earned credits.
Eh, didn't matter now. Specs for jobs, right? But would I even job-hunt?
With the system, passive income galore—no cubicle grind needed. Beats slaving for a fat paycheck at a top firm.