My stomach is full. In English, that's Begaburuda. In Japanese, it's ベガブルダ.
"..This is ridiculous."
『What is so surprising about that?』
"That I'm full from just this."
Honestly, I couldn't believe that my current state was 'full.' Of course my stomach would be full since I'd eaten, but the degree was severe.
All I had eaten was a large cup of Raccoon Ramen and one tuna mayo triangle kimbap. The original me wasn't someone who ate a lot either, but any ordinary adult man could eat that much as a snack.
It was an ambiguous amount to call small, but by no means a lot. If you were to call it a meal, it could pass as one, but it was by no means an amount that made you feel like your stomach would burst.
But right now, I was full. Severely, greatly, to the point of feeling like I would burst.
『What can be done. You will grow used to that gradually as well.』
"..Is that so."
It was to the point that I couldn't even finish half the broth of the large Raccoon Ramen and threw it away. Watching the broth get sucked down the sink drain, I thought it was a shame—that probably cost a few hundred won too.
Harse offered me something like encouragement, saying I would get used to it, but no matter what was said, I just felt slightly melancholy at the renewed realization that my body had changed.
At first, I had worried about who I was, what my existence was.
Next, my head had been filled with guilt over selling the story of the woman Ha Seo-yoon, and the responsibility of having to continue her life.
"Will I be able to keep living like this?"
Now, the stance of the male Ha Seo-yoon—whose personality was closest to the original ego among the mixed identities—was gradually rising to the surface.
I had become a woman. I had viscerally felt this fact when I looked in the mirror and when I washed my body, but at the time, I had passed over it without much thought because of the confusion regarding my own existence.
But after going through various events, compromising with myself, and eating, I had calmed down a bit—and now those thoughts were coming to me.
Becoming a woman, my body changing—felt like shit, more than I'd thought.
"Will I really be able to keep living?"
It's not even bipolar disorder; my emotions are going nuts, up and down. Just before this, I was choking up because I felt like a dog, and before that, I was choking up because I didn't know who I was, and this time, I'm choking up because I'm a woman.
『Of course you can live. Is there not someone who has already lived before you?』
Yeah, what reason is there not to live?
If I couldn't live just because I'd become a woman, then I was someone who had no will to live from the beginning. Living as a woman or living as a man—both are just living as a person in the end.
Selling her story is fine because she is soon me. It is simply selling my own story.
I don't know if selling my shameful parts is right, but at least for now... to achieve her dream of becoming an author, it seemed like the best method.
Well... honestly, this is partly for my own convenience too, but what can I do. When I look at her story—no, at my life—inspiration springs forth.
It has meaning in its own way. By bringing my story to a conclusion, it means leaving the me until now behind and making a fresh start.
... I just made that up, but it sounds pretty plausible, right? So... anyway, I intend to keep serializing my story—Inmangsal.
And... I'm gradually figuring out who I am too. It feels like my ego has been established somewhat. I had known it from the start, but it feels like I've only now accepted and come to terms with it.
I'm me in the end. Man or woman, I'm Ha Seo-yoon in the end. Yeah, what more do I need besides that? I'm just me.
The sorting is done. My head isn't clear, but at least I've sorted out all the confusing things for now.
It feels a bit refreshed. Like having eaten a throat lozenge—slightly irritated and not in the best mood, but my insides felt cleared out nonetheless.
"...There's no one in front of me."
『...?』
"No, I mean there's no one in front of me."
『Was that... so important?』
"Facts are important."
So I informed Harse of the fact.
Why, the importance of facts is a well-known fact written not only in the Goguryeo Watermelon Path but also in Japan's Kojiki.
"Heh-heh."
『...Was it fun? I do hope it was fun.』
"Yes. It was fun."
Feeling a small bit of joy, I sat back down in front of the computer.
I'd eaten, I'd sorted out my thoughts, and thinking of selling my story made me feel sick and nauseous again, but I ignored it and tapped the keyboard.
It had truly been a long time since the words flowed out this well, and before I forgot this sensation, I wanted to engrave it into my body as much as possible. I wanted to write as much as possible.
...
But first, let me browse the reader gallery for a bit.
Well, after all, my current writing motivation was the talk about my novel on the reader gallery... It doesn't hurt to charge up my writing motivation before writing, right?
『Are you not simply playing around?』
"Now, now, egosearching isn't playing around."
I don't particularly write posts in the reader gallery. I just quietly lurk posts, occasionally upvote ones I find amusing, and attach Mikkukon emoticons, that's all.
So this is absolutely not playing around. Anyway, that's that.
"...?"
I'd popped into the reader gallery to charge my writing motivation. For some reason, mentions of my novel were overflowing there.
The number of posts showing up in search results had increased enormously. Definitely more than 15 compared to when I'd last checked.
There are two possibilities when mentions suddenly increase. When the work's quality suddenly shoots up like crazy and all the reader bugs are eating it up.
..Or, when it's on fire.
No matter how I thought about it, this time it was the latter. After all, I hadn't uploaded a new chapter for the work's quality to have risen, and there was no way the reader gallery would be eagerly eating up a mere 5-chapter novel.
All five of those chapters were uploaded today, even. Literally speaking, it was a strange situation.
I wasn't a famous named author, so there was no way those mischievous reader gallery guys would hype me up. If something like that happened, it would be a paranormal event.
I quickly read through the backlog of new posts and found posts related to me to grasp the situation.
★[For those looking for the recording]
[Author: Consellerie]
(Recording of muttering and talking to oneself)
[Upvotes 55] [Downvotes 2]
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[ㅇㅇ: Freaking scary..]
[ㅇㅇ: Her voice is nice though?]
[ㅇㅇ: With a voice like that, and she's a woman, but she doesn't do VTubing? Shows the author's intelligence]
└[PassingKim: Reader bugs.. not everyone with a good voice has to become a VTuber...]
└[ㅇㅇ: (A Mikkukon going ku-gung—)]
.
.
.
★[But then does that mean the Inmangsal author is a beauty?]
[Author: ㅇㅇ]
The guy who wrote the first post said she was super cute and pretty
So that means the author is a beauty?
(Screenshot of Even if My Life is Ruined, I Have to Live)
(A Dorongkon loading)
(A Dorongkon stroking its chin)
(Favorite work registration complete screenshot)
(...♡ Dorongkon)
[Upvotes 23] [Downvotes 4]
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[ㅇㅇ: (Hoo.. Mikkukon)]
[PowerMinsoo: You gay...]
.
.
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★[Inmangsal? From today, you are Jeongbyeongsal]
[Author: ㅇㅇ]
How dare a psycho pretend their life is ruined
Even if your life is ruined, at least you're out of your mind, but I have to live my life with a perfectly sane mind, you know?
Your "life is ruined" title is confiscated. Just change your name to Even a Psycho Has to Live
[Upvotes 45] [Downvotes 3]
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[ㅇㅇ: The author is in the wrong here, yeah]
[Gamjareulgamja: (Hoo.. Mikkukon)]
[PassingKim: You really must have a ruined life indeed]
└(Author)[ㅇㅇ: You son of a bitch]
└[PassingKim: (A Mikkukon sticking its tongue out)]
.
.
.
...So, to summarize..
『Someone recorded your conversation with me and uploaded it. Because the novel title mentioned in that conversation identified you..』
"Is this really happening."
Honestly, it was absurd. The convenience store I went to was near my house, and it wasn't one that many people visited.
There were many people who stopped by on their way somewhere, but it wasn't the kind of place where someone would sit around eating or chattering; it was the kind of lonely, empty convenience store.
At the time I went too, aside from the convenience store part-timer, there was no one—which means it was that part-timer who recorded my conversation with Harse.
...Logically, who would think a convenience store part-timer would record a customer's voice and upload it to a gallery? And not even a gallery for convenience store workers, but a novel reader gallery?
And to top it off, pinpointing my work through the title 'Inmangsal' mixed into my conversation? Huh?
It's absurd. More than that, it's incomprehensible. Just how many minute probabilities had to connect in sequence for something like this to happen?
It's fine for talk about my novel to go around. However, talk about me going around was not fine.
If I ended up falsely labeled as a psycho, my work would be treated as something written by a mentally ill person, and trapped in that framework, someone would surely think things like 'Why would I read something written by a psycho author?'
I ponder for a moment.
My eyes catch a tab. Beyond the General, Review, Promotion, and Art tabs... there is a tab called 'Clarification Posts.'
Ordinary reader gallery users have no reason to use that tab. After all, the Clarification Post tab is literally for authors with controversies to use for clarifying matters.
I've used it a few times. Once after getting into a keyboard battle following a novel promotion, once when I got cursed at for the novel's development, and... once when I got caught doing stealth marketing.
The last time was quite recent. Actually, since it was today's business, calling it 'recent' is an understatement. Wasn't it just a few hours ago?
I hit Write Post, then hit Back, then hit Write Post again.
Let's say I write a clarification post. But would it mean anything?
What would I even write? 'I'm not a psycho. I was talking to the other me from another world inside me.' Like that?
It's funny that I'd even have to clarify. It's not like I did anything wrong; if you think about it, it's that convenience store part-timer bastard who recorded my voice and uploaded it to the reader gallery's fault. So why do I have to clarify?
Suddenly, I realized I had pressed my head against the wall without knowing it. This is why habits are scary. The moment I feel even a little stressed, I try to headbutt the wall first, so it's absurdly deadly.
I pull my head away from the wall and press my temples firmly with my thumbs. When my head throbs like this, massaging it like this makes it somewhat better.
"Hoo..."
In the end, having escaped the Clarification Post tab, I decided to dig through more posts.
『It would be a simple matter to just execute him.』
"...You can't. At least, for now.. we have to find evidence first."
Calm down. First, evidence. We find evidence first. You must always know the truth clearly before moving to action. Otherwise, you might get your ass kicked by that bastard called What-If.
[Newbie reader bug who wrote the first post, hurry up and upload the author's photo. It's urgent]
[Author: ㅇㅇ]
It's not really for anything specific, I just need it for a moment
I'm in the bathroom right now, it's urgent
[Upvotes 0] [Downvotes 1]
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[Sangjeonmama: None]
└(Author)[ㅇㅇ: Why not, fuck]
└[Sangjeonmama: Do our reader bugs not know what portrait rights are...?]
└(Author)[ㅇㅇ: Aren't you already out the moment you recorded?]
└[Sangjeonmama: (An enlightened Dorongkon)]
.
.
.
After scrolling down for a few minutes, I found the one who first uploaded my voice to the reader gallery.
The username was Sangjeonmama.
I changed the search field from Title and Content to Author, and searched for posts written by that bastard.
[All author bastards seem to be psychos]
And finally, I reach the result.
I've secured evidence.
『So it was this bastard.』
"If, really if... is there any chance that this bastard isn't the convenience store part-timer?"
『None. I saw it clearly; you were the only customer. The only person besides you was that part-timer.』
"...So that's how it is."
First, I save the post. I take screenshots, and convert it to PDF.
I know this isn't rational.
In fact, I know that writing a statement of explanation and trying to do something would be a slightly better course of action.
But it felt like there was no other way to make myself feel better than this.
I move my feet. Head outside, walk down the street, and arrive at a convenience store.
I open the door.
Ding-a-ling~
Beneath the chiming door, I look around the convenience store.
The part-timer was cleaning.
Mopping while wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, he wore a smile of satisfaction.
... Someone's having a fucked-up time, while someone's smiling.
"Excuse me."
I call out to him.
"Yes?"
He answers.
"... You wrote this, didn't you."
I ask.
"Ah, uhm, th-that, ah... um...."
He falls silent, unable to answer.
His gaze turns to empty air. Perhaps thinking up excuses, his eyes frantically dart this way and that. The mop falls from his hand, catching my eye.
["Leave this matter to me for a moment."]
Harse's voice, which had only sounded light, sinks heavily. My heart pounds, and at his words to leave it to him, I feel my consciousness gradually fading.
"Yes."
I answer.
And.
My body moved.
Ka-blam-!!
***
Kim Sang-jeon was currently experiencing the second greatest pain of his life since birth.
A club striking his stomach with tremendous force. It was clearly just a mop, but the pain was far from that of a mere mop.
How such power could come from that small body—he even momentarily mistook it for being hit by a car.
"Kuh... Heuk... Uwaaaack...!!"
He couldn't breathe properly. The powerful blow had reached his internal organs, delivering a shock, and from his mouth flowed the discarded triangle gimbap he had eaten for lunch today, undigested.
"It would have been preferable if what emerged from your throat were blood rather than vomit, but that would make matters troublesome."
The mistakes he had made flashed through his mind in rapid succession. Recording someone's voice and uploading it carelessly to an internet community. He had thought it trivial, but thinking on it carefully, it had been wrong behavior.
However, he couldn't help but suddenly think. The thought that, had he really done wrong to that extent.
'Hey.'
'Private First Class! Kim Sang-jeon!'
'I'm telling you every single day, you need to learn some tact, you bastard. If you let on that your head's empty, you won't survive in society.'
And another memory flashed through his mind.
'..Is it that bad? I don't really get it..'
'Tact, you bastard. That's the problem—that you don't get it. If you don't get it, learn some tact.'
Quite some time had passed since entering the army, his days as a private second class had ended, and he had just become a private first class. Words from a senior who stood guard with him.
'Honestly, I don't think it's that bad.'
He had spoken his thoughts honestly to his senior, and had experienced the greatest pain of his life since birth.
At that time, Kim Sang-jeon had made a vow.
No matter what happened, he would keep his trap shut, act meek, and conduct himself well. Since he had no tact and no sense, he would try to do well enough not to get beaten by people.
"I-I'm sorry...!!! I-I was wrong, wrong.. *urk*... I was wroooong...!!!!"
Though that vow had crumbled not long after being discharged from the army, and because of that he was now being beaten by a girl with a much smaller frame than himself, he had learned how to conduct himself while living in the army.
If he just conducted himself well, if he worked hard and pretended to be sorry, half the battle was won.
"P-please have mercy.. j-just once.. I-I'm really sorry....!!"
Without even wiping the vomit flowing from his mouth, he shouted loudly and bowed to the girl. To show that he truly meant his apology, he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head forcefully against the floor.
A brief silence followed. Wondering if his conduct had succeeded, he slightly opened his squeezed-shut eyes and looked at her.
"Ah...?"
Her small, pale bare foot was placed before his head.
"Lick it. If you were in the wrong, that much should be possible, should it not?"
In an instant, his brain spun at high speed.
The girl before him was strong. She was even a lunatic. A headache-inducing girl who talked to herself and laughed by herself.
A strong person who'd lost her mind? This was dangerous. Just dangerous? No. It was fucking dangerous.
But looking only at her appearance, she was magnificent. An incredibly pretty and cute beautiful girl one might never meet even once in their lifetime.
Was there any reason not to lick such a beautiful girl's foot?
Kim Sang-jeon, 22 years old, a young man who loved novels enough to frequent reader forums and whose mind was broken.
He quickly wiped his vomit-stained mouth with his sleeve, then began spinning his tongue like a propeller and licking her foot.
Thud-!
"Are you crazy?! Why would you suddenly make him do something like this!!"
"Pfuh... d...gen... sc..."
"Harse!! Answer me!! No, what the hell...! Stop bullshitting!! When did I ever want that?!"
"De...gene...rate... you..."
"...You shut up. Can't you see I'm talking right now?!"
"...M...zzle..."
As expected, listening to a crazy woman had been a mistake.
His head was driven into the floor where the vomit he had spat out was pooled, by her kick.
Kim Sang-jeon thought.
'Did I really do wrong to that extent...?'
He had no conscience, but it was a doubt that couldn't be dismissed as merely wrong thinking.