Chapter 110. The Road Back (4)
Her small studio apartment was like a fortress, a place where she could find true peace of mind.
The moment she stepped outside, the world became a battlefield, with arrows aimed at her from all directions.
Everywhere she went, those piercing gazes felt like blades, making her shrink back, stealing her courage, and constantly threatening her.
Her apartment was the only place where she could truly rest, a sanctuary where the weight of the world couldn't reach her.
The world inside her computer monitor was her only gateway, her refuge, and her place for social interaction.
Of course, even in that world, there were battlegrounds and conflicts, but none of it mattered to her.
Still, no fortress was without its trials, and for her, those trials took the form of a bank account with a balance nearing zero.
“…What should I do?”
She frowned at the account balance showing only zeros.
Money. It was always about money.
To live, you needed money.
To drink a simple iced tea, her favorite, she needed money. To buy ramen and eggs, the essence of culinary art created by great minds, she needed money.
Even to eat a simple bowl of rice or enjoy her beloved salads, she needed money.
But with her current balance, those were nothing but dreams.
Ding!
Her old, cracked smartphone vibrated on the desk.
The phone's vibration feature was broken, so it remained on low volume, as there was no way to tell if it was a message or a call. Not that she ever got calls anyway.
“Oh, it’s the manager...”
The manager from the temp agency that sometimes sent her to work at the logistics center for Copang.
“T-Tomorrow...?”
She stared at the screen, hesitation written all over her face.
Someone who was scheduled to work tomorrow had canceled, and the manager was asking if she could fill in. She hesitated even as she read the message.
“…5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Okay, it’s been a minute, right?”
The moment the clock ticked to the next minute, she typed her reply: Okay, I’ll come early tomorrow morning!
She had read online that you shouldn’t reply to a man’s message right away.
A woman should never seem too available—it made her look easy.
Wait at least a minute to reply; you had to show a bit of hard-to-get attitude.
It was a truth she had picked up from the internet.
It sounded reasonable enough.
Thanks. See you in the morning!
Loading and unloading cargo wasn’t too difficult for her.
For some reason, she had more strength and stamina than most people. Even back in school, her strength had led to offers to join the weightlifting team.
But sports weren’t her thing, and it turned out that just having strength didn’t mean she could handle the technical side of weightlifting.
When she realized that, she had quit.
Her mind drifted into these thoughts before she shook her head, trying to clear it.
Well, whatever.
At least her strength allowed her to earn some money through part-time work, which wasn’t so bad.
She looked at the clock. It was 8 PM.
She needed to sleep early to get up for work, but it felt too soon to go to bed.
After a moment of indecision, she stood up and opened the fridge.
She grabbed the last can of iced tea, then sat back at her desk, remote control in hand, and turned on the TV.
She didn’t spend all her time on the computer. Sometimes, she watched TV, too.
A popular reality show was on—a rerun of a program where celebrities were sent to experience life in the military.
She had only seen snippets of it in online forums and screenshots. She never really understood what was so funny about it.
But since it was on, she started watching absentmindedly.
To her surprise, it was somewhat amusing.
“Still... how could anyone go to the military twice...”
Even for money, going to the military twice seemed impossible.
“No way. I could never do the military twice, really.”
Having to go to the military twice is bad, but it’s still better than marrying a man.
‘...Huh?’
A voice came out of nowhere.
The strange thing was, it sounded exactly like her own voice.
I have to do this again?
I have to do this for four years?
Go to the military again?
Ah... Maybe I should just be a woman...
“…W-What? What is this?”
Her own voice kept echoing, as if a dam had burst.
The sound was mixed with static, like an old radio out of tune.
I have received my discharge orders! I report accordingly!
Ah, finally going home...!
Now it was a man’s voice.
It wasn’t the same voice that had been calling Astie over and over—it was a different man’s voice.
“W-Wait... What is this... What’s happening...?”
A sound like fabric tearing echoed inside her head.
Rip, rip, riiiip...
It was like cloth being torn apart.
Crack, crunch, snap...
Like something was breaking.
Ah.
Her head hurt.
***
“Ah... What time is it...?”
The survival instinct ingrained in her body was terrifying.
She must have fainted from the sudden headache, but when she opened her eyes, she instinctively checked the time.
4:44 a.m.
She had woken up six minutes earlier than planned.
Her survival instinct was that strong.
Her nearly empty bank account had imprinted a desperation on her mind—not missing today's work meant survival.
Even if the headache had knocked her out, her body had found a way to wake her up.
Rubbing her eyes, she stood and headed to the bathroom.
She couldn’t wash her hair, but at the very least, she could brush her teeth, comb her hair, and tie it up under a hat.
“Ow...”
She pushed away the lingering headache, brushing her teeth and pulling on a crumpled tracksuit from the corner.
For loading and unloading work, this was perfect.
No one found it strange if she wore a tracksuit, no matter how rumpled.
No one cared if she pulled her hat down low over her face.
The work was hard and exhausting, but it was peaceful in its own way.
When she walked out, the convenience store came into view.
A convenience store sandwich would have been a good breakfast, but given her bank balance, even that wasn’t an option.
The early dawn at 5 a.m. was still chilly.
The streets were empty as she wound through the alleys to the main road.
A small van awaited her there.
It was a cramped vehicle, with middle-aged men squeezed inside, knees pressed against seats.
“Come on, get in.”
“Thank you.”
The man in the driver’s seat gestured to her.
Since the van was already filled with men from their forties to sixties, squeezing in was difficult.
So, she usually rode in the front passenger seat.
At first, some of the other workers had grumbled about this "special treatment," but once they saw her work three or four times harder than anyone else, the complaints died down.
“Hey, aren’t you cold dressed like that?”
Only then did she look down at herself.
It was a bit early for parkas, but her loose tracksuit with the zipper open wasn’t quite right for the season either.
But what could she do?
She wasn’t cold at all.
“Not at all. This is nothing.”
She casually folded her arms, her expression indifferent. The man asked again.
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Nightmares or something?”
“I dreamt I was going to the military.”
She meant it as a joke.
After all, she had fallen asleep watching a military reality show.
“You already went, didn’t you?”
“What?!”
“Just kidding. Why so shocked?”
But it didn’t sound like a joke.
Ugh, I finished the military, and now I have to go to reserve training too...
My specialty was administration, so why do they keep making me shoot?
It was happening again.
She could hear voices.
Not the same voice that constantly called Astie—this was a different, more ordinary voice.
I’d rather go to the military again than sleep with a man.
Astie!
First, I need to find a way back...
I can’t do it without you. Please, help me...
“Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh... Y-Yes, I’m fine.”
The driver glanced at her with genuine concern.
His expression made her feel awkward.
“It’s just a headache. I’ll try to get some sleep.”
If he started asking if she’d taken medicine or wanted to see a doctor, things would get complicated.
She closed her eyes, leaning against the seat, signaling for him not to talk to her.
***
“What is this...”
Emilie was in her workshop when she suddenly looked out the window.
The clear sky held clouds that looked like fluffy sheep lazily grazing on a blue pasture.
The afternoon at the academy seemed perfectly peaceful.
To others, it would appear that way.
But to Emilie, something felt wrong.
Mana was trembling.
Something was gathering, pushing the mana away, and the mana, unwilling to be displaced, resisted the unknown force.
Not only Emilie but all the magical students and instructors at the academy could sense that something was amiss.
The realization that something ominous was unfolding spread quickly.
And then, the anomaly struck.
The academy began to shake.
More precisely, the entire ground beneath the academy was quaking.
It felt like an earthquake—buildings began to crumble.
The ground split open, and from the fissures, ominous red pillars of light burst forth.