–: The Saintess was a woman who might have become the mother of my child!
–: Isn’t that a guy? Clearly a Saint.
–: Are you crazy, ahjumma (TL Note: A Korean term for a middle-aged or older woman, often used informally or sometimes disrespectfully.)? Go home and do your chores. What makes you think that’s a man?
–: Who are you calling ahjumma, you psycho?
–: Triggered? LOL. You’re used to dishing it out, but now that you’re getting some back, it stings, doesn’t it? There’s a limit to your delusions, calling them a man, seriously, LOL.
‘Ugh, damn it. That stung a bit.’
It felt as though I’d briefly engaged in a keyboard battle and lost, overwhelmed by these sweaty men spouting nonsense about ‘she’s my wife’ or ‘I couldn’t have them myself.’
Since I am, in fact, a woman, I was utterly outmatched on the factual front.
‘To resort to such cowardly factual arguments—had the gallery’s (TL Note: Online forum or community) sense of morality utterly collapsed? Where were the honorable fabrications and noble incitement?’
Sighing, I pulled up my hood and stepped out of the house.
My journey toward the dragon led me to the art academy.
“Dal, go inside for now.”
A sea otter spirit swimming through thin air seemed ill-suited to my current social standing, leaving me pondering what to do.
Curious if it could be unsummoned like ordinary spirits, I checked; Dal, in response, curled its tiny fingers into an OK sign before leaping into me.
Upon contact with my body, Dal shimmered into transparency and vanished, only to burst back out with its characteristic silly expression whenever I called it again.
****
Having resolved the spirit issue, I stepped outside and immediately sensed a shift in the street’s atmosphere; it felt distinctly brighter.
‘Silver hair there, silver hair here, silver hair everywhere.’
‘Oh, that one’s just an old woman.’
Regardless, the entire world seemed to be overflowing with women whose hair had been bleached and dyed silver. Was this what Lee Jaehoon had been talking about?
Amidst that shimmering silver tide, I subtly pulled down my hood.
My own flowing silver hair cascaded gently, and I reveled in the bright sunlight I hadn’t enjoyed in so long.
‘Ah, yes—this is how a person truly lives.’
How difficult it had been, always having to pull my hood and hat low, even just for a trip to the convenience store near my house.
There were times I’d felt dejected, as if I were a wanted criminal—though, in a different sense, I suppose I *was* wanted.
Thanks to the silver hair trend, I had found my freedom, and I skipped along with a cheerful hum.
Tap, tap.
Just then, someone gently tapped my shoulder from behind.
‘No way… caught already?’
“Excuse me…”
“I didn’t do anything!”
Spinning around with an immediate denial, I found a black-haired woman staring back, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Huh?”
“Oh… why did you call out to me?”
“Well, I was wondering where you had your hair done! The dye job looks really good…! I’d like to go there too!”
“Oh, dyed—ah!”
Knowing that saying, ‘This isn’t dyed, it’s naturally this color…’ would likely cause a huge commotion, I vaguely mentioned a salon I’d visited before I became this body.
The woman jotted down the salon’s name, then, with a cheerful goodbye, turned and walked away excitedly. ‘Wait, wasn’t that a barbershop…?’
“…Well, maybe they do a good job with silver dyes there.”
Though whether they’d even accept her, I couldn’t say.
****
“Hmm-hmm-hmm,” I hummed.
As I opened the art academy door and stepped inside, feeling refreshed, I noticed quite a few students also sporting silver hair.
Such was the power of trends; thanks to it, I now looked like nothing more than an ordinary girl following the latest fad.
“Roha-yang, you’re here! Turns out you’re quite sensitive to trends, aren’t you? Everyone’s rushing to get their hair done these days. My daughter is being incredibly stubborn about it right now, oh dear—”
The director, having just finished teaching another class, began to complain about the recent surge in silver-haired students, lamenting his fatigue from his daughter’s incessant demands.
“Oh, by the way, there’s another new student in class today. Their enrollment date isn’t far off from yours, Roha-yang, so I hope you two can become friends, like peers.”
“Peers…?”
I had no intention of staying at the academy for long.
Especially now, with my art skills improving by leaps and bounds—perhaps due to the unique nature of the class—I was rapidly approaching the level I desired.
‘What if someone else were to become disheartened by my talent?’
‘It would be problematic if they felt a wall simply by observing my multifaceted abilities.’
‘Ah, this sinful life.’
Carrying a sheet of Bristol board and pondering these thoughts, I entered the classroom, only to find Cheon Yiryeong turning to face me, her red hair rippling like waves.
“…?”
“Oh my, what a coincidence, isn’t it?”
“You’re lying…”
Cheon Yiryeong smiled sweetly.
That captivating eye-smile left no doubt: she had absolutely tracked me down to the academy.
‘Should I switch academies…?’
Somehow, I had a feeling Cheon Yiryeong would find out all my movements through Lee Jaehoon anyway.
And to firmly push her away, I owed her quite a few favors, one way or another.
“Meeting like this must be fate. Do you like drawing?”
“Yes, well… I also need to.”
“Is being an artist your dream? I used to draw quite a bit when I was little.”
“Oh, really?”
This was an unexpected revelation.
Given her formidable appearance, I had assumed she’d be more inclined towards active pursuits rather than artistic ones.
As we exchanged a few words, the director soon entered, placing a single giraffe model onto the center table.
“You two have gotten quite friendly already, haven’t you? Alright—today, we’ll be drawing a still life. Roha-yang has already moved past basic sketching, and as for you, Cheon Yiryeong… you mentioned you have some drawing experience, so would you both please show us your skills?”
““Yes.””
Responding in unison, we each gripped our pencils.
‘This is subtly sparking a competitive spirit in me.’
The giraffe drawing session, thus begun, concluded when Cheon Yiryeong was the first to set down her colored pencil.
‘Already?’
‘I haven’t even finished yet; is she truly that skilled?’
A strange sense of defeat spurred me to quickly finish my own drawing; turning my head, I saw the director gaping at Cheon Yiryeong’s work.
‘Just how good could it possibly be?’
‘For the director to be so astonished.’
Leaping to my feet, I moved behind Cheon Yiryeong.
****
“Huh?”
“Cheon Yiryeong… didn’t you say you had *some* drawing experience?”
“Hmm… I suppose it’s not turning out well because it’s been a while, has it? Perhaps my hand isn’t warmed up yet?”
‘No, even if it had been ages… the only things this shared with a giraffe were its long neck and yellow color.’
Cheon Yiryeong, having completed a piece that would be terrifying to present to the world, answered with utter nonchalance, shrugging her shoulders.
“Isn’t this pretty good for a drawing?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Not at all.”
As the director and I shook our heads in perfect unison, Cheon Yiryeong pouted, her expression sullen.
Just then, the chatter of children could be heard from outside.
The director immediately opened the door and spoke to the instructor who was leading the children.
“You’ll need to take one more, Mr. Kim.”
“Huh? Who?”
“Cheon Yiryeong?”
“…Me?”
“Yes. Go and practice your lines first.”
“Me, drawing lines with those little kids? No, I still have my pride, you know…”
“Hurry now.”
At the director’s resolute words, Cheon Yiryeong, after attempting to protest further, shot a resentful glance before being relegated to the beginner class, trailing behind the little children.
‘Serves her right for chasing me all the way here.’
While her persistent attempts to establish contact with me were admirable, the result was a giraffe drawing that was, quite literally, a poorly drawn giraffe (TL Note: A play on the Korean tongue twister, ‘nega geurin girin geurim-eun mot geurin girin geurim,’ meaning ‘the giraffe picture you drew is a poorly drawn giraffe picture.’).
****
“I’m sorry, Roha-yang. We got a little sidetracked.”
“It’s fine. But when will I be able to draw something like a dragon? A Western-style dragon, if possible.”
“Roha-yang, you really are interested in fantasy, aren’t you? Are you planning a webtoon featuring dragons?”
‘I’m planning a reality where I ride a dragon, actually.’
“Well, all sorts of things.”
After I vaguely brushed her off, the director clapped her hands as if struck by a brilliant idea.
“Roha-yang, would you be interested in some art volunteering? We occasionally go to an orphanage to do art service. We teach basic drawing and help the children with their creations—their imaginations are so rich, there are many quite interesting pieces.”
“Art volunteering?”
“Yes. Perhaps you could gain some inspiration there, Roha-yang? It would be both volunteer work and an opportunity to get new ideas.”
“Hmm… I’ll think about it. If a schedule is set, please let me know again.”
“Alright. Do give it some thought.”
Art volunteering… According to the director, it didn’t sound too bad. After all, creative works ultimately depend on how far my imagination can stretch, so it would be good if I could gain something from the children’s imaginations.
Moreover, the pure dreams of children might shine brighter than the unconsciously limited imaginations of adults, jaded by society.
Deciding to reconsider once the schedule was set, I continued with my drawing practice.
After the lesson concluded, as I stepped out, I coincidentally ran into a weary Cheon Yiryeong amidst the throng of children pouring out.
“Pfft, how was it?”
“…It was humiliating…”
Watching her face, stained with utter despair, I stifled a laugh, biting my lip.
Even if her actions were a bit clumsy, she was still a top-tier S-rank Hunter.
And the guild master of a massive guild had gone to such lengths to recruit me; how could I possibly tease her?
“Would you like to get some coffee?”
“YES!!!”
I was startled by her booming reply after offering a casual invitation, feeling sorry for her utterly dejected state.
‘Sigh, what can I do? I’m just too kind not to look after her a little.’
Still, she had come all this way just to see me… and I intended to firmly tell her I had no plans to join a guild anytime soon.
With her distinct red hair and beautiful face, Cheon Yiryeong was a hot topic even in the entertainment industry, let alone among those interested in Hunters.
Her continued pursuit of me was becoming problematic.
“There’s a private cafe nearby. Shall we go there?”
“Yes, let’s.”
The private cafe Cheon Yiryeong suggested was exclusively for Hunters.
As Hunters currently enjoy popularity exceeding that of celebrities, they inevitably attract intense public attention.
Such cafes provide a private space, allowing Hunters to avoid prying eyes and respect each other’s privacy.
As someone not yet registered as a Hunter, it was a place I would have found difficult to enter, no matter how curious I was, so this was an opportunity to check it out.
BEEEP—
Simultaneously, a loud warning alarm blared from everyone’s phones.
‘Gate Emergency Evacuation Alert!’
–: Residents within 2km of the indicated location, please evacuate immediately. An S-rank Gate has appeared. Evacuate immediately.
A chilling alarm rang incessantly, and a Gate glowed crimson on the map, marking its location. The area where I currently stood was perilously close to the edge of the evacuation zone.
But an S-rank? This was the first time one had appeared in Seoul…
Cheon Yiryeong stared intently at her phone for a moment, then spoke with a regretful smile.
“…I’m sorry, I think I have to go. Let’s do coffee another time.”
“A Gate… are you going?”
“I must. It’s my job, after all. Roha-yang, you should quickly get out of this area.”
With those words, Cheon Yiryeong climbed into a waiting sedan and rapidly departed. She would likely now gather her guild members, form a subjugation team, and set off.
‘…I have a bad feeling about this.’
An S-rank Gate had appeared in Korea once before.
That Gate had ultimately caused a Breaking, engulfing the entire Dangjin area in South Chungcheong Province and turning it into a barren wasteland.
