Lately, I’ve been having a busy day. Someone might think, “Busy with what?” but for an extreme introvert like me, it was a huge deal. I was more comfortable becoming one with my bed.
Just going outside made my legs tremble, and now I’m actually going to school! Is there anything more extroverted than this? Thankfully, I wasn’t completely ostracized. There were two kids I got along with—Jiyu and Yumi. Recently, they were the ones I talked to the most.
On school days, it was harder to see Bora and Haru, so I ended up talking more with those two.
Today, after ending my internet broadcast, I flopped onto my bed. Lately, I haven’t had much time for streaming, so my broadcast hours have decreased. Viewers asked what was going on, and when I said school vacation was over, they were like, “Oh, right, school’s a beast,” and accepted it.
But lately, I’ve been feeling off. No, I misspoke. My body and mind were out of sync. My body was fine, but my mind was a mess.
In a way, it was inevitable. A 20-something guy’s mind was stuck in the body of a little kid with endless energy. My body was that of a child, but my mind was an adult’s. Maybe because of this mismatch, sometimes my mind would revert to being childlike. My body was full of energy, but my mind was exhausted.
Of course, this had nothing to do with liking Lumi. Lumi was always right.
Anyway, I was shuddering at this disconnect. What could I do to align my mind with this body? Even if I asked Bora and Haru, I doubt they’d have an answer.
There’s probably no case like mine. A child’s body with an adult’s mind—if anyone found out, I’d 100% end up in an underground research lab.
“Do I have to eat this…?”
“Can’t you just eat it? It’s good for your body!”
Haru brought me some healthy juice. She seemed to care about my health, but the taste was terrible. I had no choice but to drink it while making a face.
I could’ve refused, but seeing Haru’s sad expression would’ve made me feel bad.
Things that I used to laugh off now bothered me. I felt like I’d become petty. Even small mistakes stuck with me. People’s kindness felt less genuine. I knew this mindset wasn’t right, but my emotions were overpowering my rationality.
They say women become more emotional. Maybe it’s because I’m a girl now, and hormones are affecting me.
“Hana, you didn’t forget your school homework, right?”
Bora casually mentioned it as she passed by. It was just a friendly greeting, but it didn’t feel that way to me. If this were a manga, a big “!” would’ve popped above my head.
My inner self spoke up. It was the part of me that just wanted to eat snacks and watch TV all day.
“Just ditch it! What’s the worst that could happen if you do nothing? And lately, you’ve been so lax, it’s like you’re not even scared of anything!”
In the past, I would’ve snapped back, “Who do you think you are?” But now, for some reason, it sounded tempting. I knew it was leading to ruin, but it felt like something I needed to hear.
“Hana! You should go to bed early!”
I got caught watching TV late at night. Haru came into my room, gently laid me down on the bed, and turned off the TV and lights before leaving.
“I’m not a kid!”
Something inside me felt like it had snapped.
When I woke up in the morning, I muttered to myself.
“I’m not doing anything.”
My forehead furrowed like an angry person’s.
Homework? Why bother? It’s not even fun!
Vegetable juice? Tastes awful!
Going to bed early? Why should I?
Anime? Now that’s worth watching…
From today, I declared a full-on strike. It was burnout syndrome. Of course, it was too early for a kid my age to experience it, but my actual age, including my past life, was already in my mid-20s.
I had every reason to go on strike.
The day I turned dark, the Starlight Research Institute went into emergency mode.
—
From the perspective of the Starlight Guild, Korea’s food industry wasn’t a significant sector.
For the Starlight Guild, the money made from finance, hunters, and various industries was far greater. The money from food was probably less than 0.1%. Compared to the hundreds of trillions earned from finance or selling weapons to hunters, it was negligible.
Otherwise, they rolled with the benefits from the byproducts of Gate subjugation, but they never even considered rolling with the kind of food ordinary people eat.
In a way, it was natural. From the Starlight Guild’s perspective, the food market didn’t match their level of prestige.
When introducing themselves in society, they’d say they run a restaurant or work in distribution. Or better yet, they work in the financial market. Or they’re involved with Hunters. It just sounds cooler and more impressive, so they had no choice.
If you ask people living in modern society, nine out of ten would probably want to work in finance or as Hunters. Social status is a matter of life and death for many. There are so many jobs that get ignored just because they don’t have that “cool factor,” even if they pay well.
Anyway, even in the Starlight Guild, there was one existence they couldn’t ignore. At first, they thought it was just a monster that resembled a human, so they practically tossed it to the Starlight Research Institute. They figured it wasn’t worth much.
But when the potential of Hana’s hair was revealed, and Starlight Food made a miraculous comeback because of it, the Starlight Guild couldn’t help but take notice. Of course, they couldn’t ask for it back after what they initially said.
“This is no longer something we can just leave alone.”
An analyst working in the upper echelons of the Starlight Guild spoke to Kim Sewon, the third in line of the Starlight Group. He had graduated from Korea University, completed all his education, and somehow managed to join the Starlight Guild, dedicating everything to networking until he reached a position where he could advise the third in line. And he advised Kim Sewon very politely and respectfully.
“The economic value of Hana’s hair is still small, but it’s not something we can ignore. Of course, the limited quantity means there are restrictions on how we can use it, but the addictive quality and taste are off the charts.”
“Is that so?”
On Kim Sewon’s desk sat a cup of Starlight Coffee. It wasn’t just made from coffee beans—it was a premium coffee infused with Hana’s hair. Regular coffee was good, but Kim Sewon preferred the premium one. The price was eye-wateringly expensive, but to Kim Sewon, it was what it was.
“Now that she’s gained status, it’s time for the headquarters to directly control Hana’s human resources. She’s too valuable to just be used in Starlight Food and Starlight Cosmetics. Whether it’s green tea or coffee, her market influence is stronger than ads featuring top celebrities.”
To summarize the analyst’s rambling, Hana’s economic value had grown too big to be left to Starlight Food and Cosmetics. They needed to take control themselves. Of course, there would be opportunity costs, but considering the power of Hana’s hair, it wasn’t a small cost.
But to Kim Sewon, the analyst’s advice was insignificant and trivial.
“Your advice is good, but Sehee and Seyoung like her. Wouldn’t it look bad if I, as their older brother, just took her away?”
Since it would involve using force to take her, Kim Sewon felt uneasy about it. If family relations were bad, he might’ve just closed his eyes and taken her, but that wasn’t the case. They still met during holidays like Chuseok.
“And wouldn’t it be better to focus on finance or Gate-related businesses? Looking at this report, the economic value Hana generates isn’t even 1 trillion a year yet.”
Kim Sewon flipped through the report as he spoke.
“Finance and Hunter-related businesses are in the hundreds of trillions… It’d be better to focus on those.”
In a way, it was a valid point.
“But…”
From the analyst’s perspective, pushing too hard wasn’t good for maintaining his position, so the matter was quietly dropped.
