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Chapter 108

Has it been about two hours since Siyeon left through the front door?

It’s not even 10 o’clock, and it’s already been 23 minutes since then.

A black van drove into the apartment’s above-ground parking lot.

The sliding door opened with a clatter, and emerging from inside was a girl with striking golden hair that screamed American vibes.

A few suited men followed her out, and their builds were familiar.

In the midst of all this, a security guard, thinking it didn’t belong to the residents, rushed over to the driver’s seat of the black van and had a word with them.

‘It really stands out.’

The black van started up again, and only two people were left standing in the parking lot as they trudged toward our apartment building.

After I opened the communal entrance with the intercom, a ringing sound of the doorbell echoed soon after.

I silenced the intrusive doorbell sound with the intercom, then approached the entrance to let the visitor in.

“Hello, Haseyo.”

“Oh, hello….”

“I’ll be here around 3 PM, so please take care of Tiara until then.”

“Yes.”

With a click, the door shut.

A foreigner had just entered my familiar home.

What should I start the conversation with?

Why did she want to see me? Or should I thank her for defeating the monster yesterday instead?

Would she even understand everything I said?

Talking with a foreigner takes so much courage.

Stuck in a maddening awkwardness and unable to say a word, it ended up being her who awkwardly initiated the conversation.

“Are you the magical girl I saw in Los Angeles?”

“Oh, yes… that’s right.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you!”

She seemed to understand simple Korean phrases, conversing in a somewhat comprehensible English sentence.

Then, she fumbled with a toy-like magical rod in the air, lifted it high, and exclaimed—

“Transformation!”

With the English word “Transformation,” she was enveloped in a burst of light.

That must have been her transformation spell.

I thought she would stop at a similar height, but her form shot up like a tree, causing me to internally grimace in surprise.

When she de-transformed, she was nearly at an angle where I had to tilt my head back 45 degrees to look up at her.

I had grown to about 150 cm during middle school, but this was certainly a higher perspective.

180? 190? Regardless, it was a body type that could only be described as towering.

“It’s been a while!”

“Ugh.”

Once she de-transformed, she spread her arms wide and gave me a big hug as a warm welcome.

I had learned through the nine-day trip to America that this was a casual greeting, and I awkwardly returned the embrace.

She leaned down a bit, but with those huge mounds protruding, it was hard to breathe.

After the surprisingly heavy greeting, we managed to continue our conversation with the help of a smartphone translator.

Her real name was Ann, and she was a twenty-two-year-old adult, quite grown up.

“…You said you were going to fly here yourself?”

“That’s right! But instead of going to South Korea, I went to North Korea.”

As we continued talking, she was turning out to be someone way wackier than I had imagined.

In confusion about what to do after becoming an adult, her desire to visit Korea was so strong she decided to fly for over ten hours straight.

The problem was she didn’t understand the concept of North and South Korea and just knew where North Korea was on the map.

“What is this?”

“These American bastards!”

Her tone and atmosphere were markedly different from what I’d seen in dramas.

She said she ended up coming back because of that, almost sparking an international incident or something.

If you search ‘American Magical Girl North Korea,’ something does pop up.

It seems a couple of years back, North Korea got tense or something, and it was pretty big news.

Thinking about it, I might’ve heard something about it during the group meeting too…

Anyhow, deciding to take the day off school to do the task at hand, I typed “Is there anything you want to eat?” into the translator.

[Is there anything you want to eat?]

“Is there anything you want to eat?”

As long as the words send the message, it doesn’t matter how well she says it.

Despite her poor English pronunciation, she quickly understood me.

If she really didn’t understand, I could always show her the translation on my phone, making it work somehow.

“Ah! KFC!”

Of all the chicken brands, it’s probably the one most foreigners would recognize.

She came all the way to Korea, and that was what she wanted to eat?

‘Huh…? Isn’t that also available in America?’

“This?”

Anyway, as I browsed through the delivery app according to her wishes, I stumbled upon a familiar face.

Thinking it might be a good idea, I tapped on the screen, barely managing to utter a word in broken English to her.

She leaned in closer to the smartphone screen with curiosity.

It must be a recognizable logo even for locals, as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“No Kentucky, Korean Fried Chicken.”

“Ah, okay, okay…”

Finally realizing what KFC stood for, I moved on to my go-to chicken place along with my cheap pronunciation.

From boneless chicken to fried, soy sauce, seasoned, and even sauces I don’t usually order.

After all, since she’s from America, I thought I should showcase the essence of Korean chicken, so I decided to order all sorts of flavors I wouldn’t normally try.

Better to have too much than too little, especially when it comes to chicken.

I could always reheat leftovers in the air fryer to enjoy with the mascot or Siyeon.

While waiting for the chicken to arrive, our conversation started back up.

Ann was rather open, or maybe chaotic, or very active.

“Please transform and take a picture with me!”

“Ugh…”

As we began discussing the uncomfortable tipping culture in America, she suddenly stood up and suggested we transform to take a photo together.

Naturally, even though it was just a simple word, it was a transformation spell.

With a flash of light accompanying her transformation, she held the smartphone lens close, and eventually, we ended up taking pictures of each other in various states of transformation—one before transforming, one transformed, and one halfway through.

In many ways, being around her felt like having my energy drained.

“Next time… can you give me your number?”

‘Delivery guy, please hurry up.’

After talking about tips in America, capturing a photo, then asking about the relationship between Korea and North Korea, she moved on to requesting my phone number.

The conversation was going in an unpredictable way, and I shut my eyes tight, wishing the intercom would ring as soon as possible.

Have I ever waited this long for a chicken delivery in my life?

I checked my smartphone notifications to exchange numbers, and saw the delivery person had set off.

What a time that felt like an eternity—those 8 minutes.

No matter how talkative a person is, it’s hard not to focus on eating when chicken is involved.

Clearly, they fry chicken the same way, yet somehow, Korean fried chicken is said to taste better.

“Very, very crispy…!”

“Hey, Gomteng. You should come eat too.”

“Oh, is that okay?”

Gomteng, who had been quietly sitting in the corner, brightened up at the invitation and abandoned his act of being a doll, creeping over.

“If you’re a magical girl, you should know everything.”

“Oh, mascot!”

Seeing Gomteng flutter toward the table, Ann exclaimed with an English pronunciation that even someone clueless in English could understand.

It seems her mascot is called the same thing here too.

Perhaps recalling her own mascot late, she subtly rummaged through her hoodie pocket and pulled something out, palm up.

“Click.”

“Eek—!”

My heart sank.

A little black rat was sitting peacefully on the palm of her hand.

A rat, a symbol of the plague, in my house?

I couldn’t even begin to think that it was a mascot and immediately searched for an electric fly swatter.

To begin with, there was no way to catch a palm-sized creature with anything like an electric fly swatter, but I was still looking around.

Finally gripping the fly swatter in my hand, I approached the rat, which was sniffing adorably while sitting on her palm.

The little guy must have sensed the killing intent from me holding the fly swatter because he stared at me, stayed still for two seconds, then leaped off her hand and scurried around the room at will.

From that moment on, I could hardly hear anything around me.

Like swinging a hammer, I just started throwing objects or swinging wildly at the dark, furry mass.

“Stop! Stop!”

“Help—! Help!”

With my adult body pinned, I panted heavily, and only after hearing her call for it to stop and the rat squeaking like a little person was I able to settle down.

It turned out that the rat was her mascot.

Now, I’m sharing a meal with both a teddy bear and a rat.

The scratching sound tickled my ear.

‘Wow, that really surprised me.’

The pounding of my still-frightened heart felt like it was resonating right next to my head.

Seeing me holding my chest, Ann hung her head low and, despite marveling at the chicken, she couldn’t eat any.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“Oh, it’s fine… please eat as much as you want.”

After all, this was the only time I’d see her.

I wouldn’t have to endure the annoyance of seeing people I dislike for months in the military, so I’d let this one go.

‘By the way…’

It’s one thing to let it slide, but as I looked at the rat gnawing at the fried chicken on the table, I thought,
Is that really a mascot?
Can a well-realistic rat be a mascot?
I honestly thought it looked like something freshly pulled from a sewer.


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