Terraforming Day 1: Team Training Ends
Team training on the first day of Terraforming was over. The sun had already dipped low, and all the trainees had gathered with their teammates, chatting idly over dinner. Everyone seemed fine.
Everyone except our team.
"So you're just gonna keep acting like this? Not even talking to Lee Kangin?"
"…"
There were no listening ears here. It was just the two of us.
I'd asked the rest of the team to give us space, saying I needed a quick word with Ri Shaolin alone. Blanc and Lee Kangin trusted me to handle it, and Ri Shaolin followed without a single complaint when I called her out for a talk.
We'd walked in silence until we reached this deserted spot, and that's when the conversation started—just moments ago.
"What are you, a kid? Can't separate personal grudges from team business?"
Zap! Her sharp glare pierced me at my words.
But I stared right back, unyielding. In this situation, it was obviously her fault.
The funny part? She knew it too. She knew she was being stubborn.
You could tell from how she'd been sneaking glances at the other team members throughout training. She probably regretted her attitude deep down.
But with her personality, she wouldn't flip-flop that easily. Logically, she got that I was right, but admitting it felt like losing, so she dug in her heels and stayed uncooperative.
Classic childish bullshit.
Fuckin' pain in the ass. Making me use my brain.
Still, this was a situation I kinda liked. Or rather, it was perfect for deploying one of my favorite tactics: how to grab someone by the balls and shake.
"…What."
"What? You're seriously asking me? You're the one not cooperating. Out of these five teammates, you're the only one."
"…I did everything you told me to. What's your problem?"
"You wanna keep living in this shit atmosphere? Instructor said it earlier—exactly one month to gel as a team. Remember what happens after that? Tell me."
"…We fight monsters for real… And stop cursing."
"Then stop giving me reasons to. Why keep being stubborn when you know better? Other teams are actively chatting to build synergy this month, but because of you, the rest of us are screwed?"
"…"
"You think we can beat monsters without team sync? That confident? Nah, doesn't seem like it. Just be honest. You're scared you can't pull your weight even with proper practice, so you're faking anger to hide it, right?"
"? What the fuck kinda bullshit…!"
"I don't give a shit how you live your life with that piss-poor mindset, but at least don't drag us down. Right?"
"I said no cursing!"
"You fuckin' bitch."
"Eek!"
I looked furious at a glance—furrowed brow, low growl, head down with aggressive upturned eyes—but honestly, I wasn't mad at all. It was all calculated.
To push her buttons emotionally.
Of course, Ri Shaolin wasn't chickening out on monsters and hiding it by stonewalling us. She was just sulking because Lee Kangin and I hadn't sided with her two weeks back.
But I played dumb and cornered her anyway. People get way angrier when you misread their true feelings than when you nail them. Especially if you state the wrong assumption like it's gospel.
Quick example: Back in school, some days gaming just felt meh, and weirdly, you crave studying. You go to shut off the PC and crack open a workbook, and boom—mom bursts in, smacks your back, and yells.
'Quit the damn games and study!'
Smack!
Anyone would feel wronged. You swear you were just turning it off to study, but it doesn't matter. In her head, you're the kid gaming away, making excuses to study only after getting nagged.
And with no proof of your innocence? Double the injustice.
Just like now.
"I… I never thought that! Why're you assuming shit about me…!"
"Then what was it?"
"That…"
"See? Can't even counter. Anything wrong with what I said?"
She sure as hell wouldn't admit out loud that she was still pissy from our fight two weeks ago. So she had only one move left.
"Anyway, I wasn't chickening out for that reason!"
"Pfft, no proof, total denial."
"…I'll prove it from now on!"
"From now on?"
"Yeah! I'll participate actively, sync up properly, so take it back. Take back what you said!"
"…"
"Take it back!!"
Hm. I barely stifled a laugh. Too damn easy.
"If what you just said is true…"
"It is!"
"…Maybe I misjudged."
"'Maybe'? It was a blatant mistake!"
"……Got it."
I softened my angry face, nodded, and accepted her words. My goal was achieved—no reason to keep fighting.
She sensed the sincerity in my admission and cooled off a bit too.
Her rage had deflated substantially. There are tons of ways to kill someone's anger. My go-to? Brew up something bigger, pin it on them, then yank it away.
The massive fake anger cools, dragging the original grudge down with it. Instant calm.
Ri Shaolin no longer gave a shit about that fight two weeks ago. The planted misunderstanding had burned it out.
Now, we weren't buddies, but the bad blood was gone. Cleared her grudge against me and Lee Kangin and secured her cooperation. Two birds, one stone.
Good enough. Not like we're teaming up for life—just two months or so.
"But anyone can talk big, so no apology yet?"
"Fine. I'll cooperate all month, nail the monster kill next month, then you apologize."
"Deal."
Honestly, I started this misunderstanding, so I didn't mind apologizing. But if she wanted it, she'd have to obey me first.
Got a plaything for the month.
Sometimes I worry I'm too nice. Apologizing to a girl who insulted me? Anzelli must sense my pure heart—that's why she likes me.
Obviously.
Sizzle… Oil in a hot frying pan, toss in veggies and seasonings, stir. Focused on sweet over spicy—eaters here aren't Korean spice fiends.
Soon, the puffed-up veggies wilted, cooking down. Add the par-cooked dakgalbi, stir-fry again.
Pre-blanched because home stoves lack restaurant firepower. Marinated in sauce ahead, it gleamed red.
Sizzle! Sizzle!
One hand on the pan, the other wielding a silicone spatula, mixing to spread the sauce evenly. Finally, add the pre-soaked dangmyeon noodles, quick stir…
Dakgalbi done.
Snagged a stray cabbage bit—sweet, not spicy. By Korean standards.
"Dinner's ready, Anzelli!"
I plated it up, one for her, one for me.
I can cook. Long solo living? Nah.
Real solo dudes don't touch fancy dakgalbi—they're microwave egg custard pros or minimal-dish wizards. Or ramen maestros.
Simple reason: Girls dig guys who cook well. So I practiced "impressive" dishes just for inviting girls over. Big impression, easy goodwill.
Like this.
"Whoa! Looks tasty! But… s-spicy-looking… This okay?…"
"Haha! Just the color. It'll be sweeter than you think."
"Not complaining as a freeloader, but… I'll eat it all anyway."
Anzelli eyed the dakgalbi warily. Not convinced, she sniffed it.
Why? First time, I mindlessly made spicy pork stir-fry like I always do.
Now, red food = panic mode for her. Even I was off spice lately.
Didn't love it anyway, so whatever.
"Sniff sniff! Hmm… O-okay…?"
"Sorry about last time. Shoulda left the pork—you were coughing it down."
"Can't waste food!"
She declared firmly. Didn't nag me, but she personally hated leftovers. Was that adult line true—"Waste food, no heaven!"?…
Chit-chat paused; we sat at the table for dinner.
"Wow?! Tasty! A little spicy, but yummy!"
…Spicy? This? Tasted purely sweet to me.
Her tongue's more sensitive than expected.
"Hm… Maybe Western food suits you better than Korean. Most Korean stuff's spicy… Sorry. Can't do Western."
Unfortunately, no Western cooking skills.
Folks thinking, 'Why no pasta for girls? They love that shit?'—noobs.
Over-the-top Western for a date screams try-hard. "Look how fancy to impress you!" Too obvious.
Fine for girlfriends, not flings—reeks of desperation, turns 'em off.
Korean? Even fancy like this passes as "oh, home-cooked solo meal, yummy." Natural goodwill boost, no resistance.
That's why no Western. Omelets? Sure, breakfast staple.
"Mm. No! It's fine! Really! I'm the sorry one—can't do anything for you. No rent, free room and board… Can't even cook…"
Fruit-only heaven diet—Anzelli couldn't cook.
Uncomfortable owing me, she asked heaven for living expense stipend. Denied, for some reason. Wouldn't say why.
"D-dishes at least… I'll…"
"Eh, I can do it?"
"No! Me!"
She wouldn't shatter plates, right? I let Anzelli handle dishes.
"Ugh… All done? Dishes for you."
"Yup! Leave it!"
- Clatter clatter.
No plate casualties. Guess she's not that clumsy? Kept my worry secret.
"Ugh… Still feel bad… Shoulda given allowance at least…"
"Heaven said no—whatcha gonna do?"
"Ughhh…"
Luckily, my bank was flush—pin money missing? No biggie.
Card history check: Less spending now than fat Park Chanyoung days. Our duo ate less than his solo gluttony.
Post-dinner tea and chat with Anzelli, then bed.
Knock knock.
"Ch-Chanyoung? Asleep?"
"Anzelli? Nah, not yet."
"Th-then… massage maybe?"
Late night. Anzelli at my door.