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Chapter 170

A short, perplexed utterance.

Clearly, monsters are entities that ultimately should vanish from Earth.

But what if, overnight, all monsters swore never to show up on Earth again?

Then what about those of us, including me, in related professions?

We’d all become unemployed in a heartbeat.

Jobs would collapse, bank accounts would plummet….

It’s as if monsters and magical girls are like fire and firefighters.

Of course, the best scenario is to not have any fire incidents, but we can’t just wipe out every potential fire hazard—the grass, trees, and everything flammable on Earth.

Even if measures are taken, it’s not a decision that can be made unilaterally with half-baked thoughts.

Despite South Korea being a country with a safety incompetence culture, thanks to the unique diligence of magical girls, there have been zero civilian casualties for nearly a decade.

Given that, isn’t it alright to maintain the status quo?

Status quo.

It might sound irresponsible in some ways, but I couldn’t easily opt for change either.

The emergence of monsters is a massive social phenomenon that could greatly impact us all.

With so many people involved, handling it like a unilateral decision needed a different approach than ever before.

No matter how emotionally charged we get here, that’s merely related to the arrows of blame and criticism aimed at me.

However, the issues tied to this system are inherently on a different scale.

It’s something that could affect the world beyond just the individual, so I can’t help but ponder deeply.

“So, I plan to put it on hold for now.”

“Is that so?”

Though I didn’t elaborate on the many details, Gomteng seemed to grasp it with a light explanation of ‘losing a job.’

Having talked exhaustively about monsters, it was time to move on and ponder over dinner.

In the fridge, precisely at eye level, were the steamed buns.

Sweet potato, red bean, vegetables, pizza, cream cheese…

Every year, new products emerge that make it hard to count the types of steamed buns.

Whenever the craving for a warm snack hits in winter, reaching for one remains unchanged.

But right now, I needed to think about dinner, not snacks.

I shifted my gaze from the piled-up steamed buns to a lonely little plastic rice bowl.

Exactly two bowls worth, more than enough for dinner.

The problem was the side dishes.

There were a few quail eggs simmered in soy sauce left, but it felt like a rather bland table.

A few leftover sausages from making budaejjigae.

Eggs that wouldn’t run out in the fridge.

First, I pulled out everything that seemed usable or that I could get rid of as I examined what I could make.

Sausages, seasoned dried squid with gochujang, and qail eggs?

Not bad, but it left something to be desired.

It felt like a rushed breakfast prepared by a busy mom, lacking in effort.

Adding one frozen food would probably make for a perfect dinner, but these days, I’ve been trying to reduce reliance on frozen foods.

‘What else is there…’

Eventually, passing the freezer, I creaked open the cabinet under the induction cooktop.

A housewife’s space stacked with cooking oil, canned tuna, canned ham, spaghetti sauce, and room-temperature products like salt, sugar, syrup, and vinegar.

There was a can of corn, whose date of purchase was lost to time, and half-eaten, sealed dried macaroni that was all but dusty.

‘Macaroni…corn canned…’

Ingredients pulled out with no clue what to do with them.

Crossing my arms, I silently stared at the ingredients for 15 seconds.

My mind was abuzz with fierce discussions on how to boil or sauté these ingredients.

First, I’d need to boil the macaroni if I was going to use it somehow.

Starting my dinner prep by filling a pot with water.

‘For the sausages, chop them small like when making fried rice…’

Thud, the dull thwack of the knife across the wooden cutting board echoed in the kitchen.

The sound of popping open the corn can scratched my ears.

Cooking was naturally veering towards macaroni salad.

I carelessly pulled a colander from the drawer beside the induction and placed it atop a suitably deep bowl.

With my busy hands, I closed the drawer with a pop of my waist while, inversely, I flipped the can of corn, allowing the contents to drain as I left it for a moment.

As the pot, slightly wider than a ramen pot, began to boil, I took a handful of macaroni from the bag.

The once tiny macaroni swelled up rapidly, soaking up water as I stirred them steadily to stop them from sticking to the bottom or each other.

Before going in the water, they were like tiny peas.

Continuously boiling, they puff up four or five times their size.

Deliberately adding extra water was for that very reason.

Even a small quantity, if boiled too long, makes the pot bottom reveal itself quickly with all that water absorbed.

When I felt enough time had passed while agitating the boiling water through the colander.

I snagged a single macaroni piece from the end and rinsed it in the cold sink before tasting.

The macaroni slid slickly around in my mouth, breaking off to stick stubbornly to my teeth.

It didn’t taste undercooked; it was just right.

“Hee hee hee-♪”

I hummed a tune I didn’t know the origin of, pouring the macaroni into the colander as my hand reached for the next step.

Without feeling the heat, I cooled the macaroni under tap water, then returned to the induction and fetched a large glass bowl.

I decided to let the milky water left behind in the pot cool and later dump it whole, then added the previously drained corn to the finely chopped sausages.

Throwing them both into the large glass bowl without leaving a scrap behind, I completed the salad prep.

Sprinkling a pinch of fine salt, then tossing in an alarming amount of sugar.

Next went the mayonnaise, squirted in with abandon, completing about 80 percent of the seemingly diet-unfriendly salad.

The remaining 20 percent would mix in once the macaroni had drained.

“Ugh, one side dish done!”

In a situation where the only one to listen was Gomteng, the sentence bubbled with a sense of achievement, stretching while feeling refreshed.

What kind of amazing side dish could be it with the mountain of washing up still left?

It truly looked ominous.

From the pot to two colanders, a dish I propped up to drain the corn.

The container that held the sausages and also the knife and cutting board I’d taken out to slice them.

This is why cooking with just one pan is so much easier.

“What did you do?”

“Macaroni salad. It just needs mixing soon.”

I answered Gomteng nonchalantly, quickly grabbing a scrubber to dive into the dishes.

Left to do it later, I feared I’d end up avoiding it; might as well finish while motivation was still alive.

By the time I finished washing up and dried my hands on the towel hanging nearby.

A faint beep for entering the password at the front door pierces the quiet.

‘Huh? Oh, is it already time…’

I hadn’t noticed, but the outside sky had grown dim.

Being winter, the sun setting early might be part of it, but it feels like time flies when you’re not at school.

Catching a monster after school, finishing some chores at home, and now it’s already night.

Instead of a quick dash to the front door, I rummaged through the now-cold macaroni, transferring it into the glass containers while stirring with a shallow ladle.

The sound of clumps of sugar mixing with sticky liquids and the clanking of the metal ladle scraping against the glass surface.

The pink sausage chunks with yellow corn, white boiled macaroni and mayonnaise blended well, and just like that, it was done.

I grabbed the refrigerated eggs, placing them on a rubber pot holder with a slight groove to keep them from slipping on the sink.

“What’s cooking that smells so good?”

“Did you come? I made macaroni salad; heat up some rice, I’m making egg rice too.”

“Okay—!”

I placed a small frying pan on the induction, cracking the eggs in.

The main dish rice was guaranteed flavorful with soy sauce egg rice, and the sides included seaweed, kimchi, quail eggs, sweet and salty macaroni salad, and seasoned dried squid.

It’s definitely a tasty meal, but as I busy myself eating, I think I should consider some grilled fish or soup for soon.

“Thank you for the meal-”

“Yeah, sure-”

Siyeon’s eating pace was surprisingly fast, making her the first to rise from the table.

The bowls slowly sank in the water that filled the plastic container.

How long had it been since I washed these dishes that they already filled the sink again?

But since we hadn’t finished everything, I only had to wipe down the rice bowls and spoons.

In less than two minutes, I had a small number of dishes, and as I soaked my hands in the water while scrubbing…

“Mari, Mari! Come here!”

“Huh?”

Siyeon’s sudden call.

I wondered what exciting news might be on TV as I hastily walked to the living room, still holding the soapy rice bowl.

What Siyeon was watching was a news channel.

The screen was filled with flaming buildings and structures reduced to smoldering ashes.

[Chuncheon, Gas explosion due to the magical girl and monster battle. Estimated damage around 35 billion won…]

“Oh my, what happened?”

Thankfully, there were zero casualties, but many homes had burned down in the incident.

As a precaution from this event, the magical girls were subjected to a government video viewing, warning ‘Keep an eye out and fight safely!’ for three hours.

Hmm, hasn’t evolved at all from the ‘Stop School Violence!’ campaign.


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