Ch.1So that bastard is the one who’s going to take my virgin away (1)

“Do-young Ban, get up already. It’s already 7:30. You little thing.”

A scratchy, rough shout reached my ears.

At first, I thought it was Manager Kim calling about work.

“Mmm… the computer password is on a post-it on the bottom right of the monitor, why are you calling…”

Getting a call just one day after quitting was expected,

but since we’re properly strangers now, it would be nice if they showed some basic courtesy.

Then again, if they knew that, they wouldn’t be jerks in the first place.

I picked up the phone beside me, intending to quickly give my desk password and hang up.

“Shit, what is this.”

But there was no incoming call on my phone.

Come to think of it, Manager Kim who sat next to me didn’t have such a rough voice.

“Do-young Ban, why don’t you get up while I’m still asking nicely? If you’re late on a day like today, I’ll really cut off your allowance this time.”

“…Allowance? Not salary?”

Ah, right, I got fired.

Then who is this voice threatening to cut off my allowance, not salary?

Opening my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, I looked around to understand the situation.

My eyes met with a boy band poster that had appeared without warning next to the table.

“Goodness.”

It was a photo of slender, pretty-faced boy group members smiling with androgynous features.

It wasn’t nauseating enough to make me sick like those “why are you whining again, baby” types,

but it was enough to tell me that this wasn’t my room.

-Woong

A loud phone alarm rang.

A boy band song I’d never heard before assaulted my eardrums.

I didn’t know much, but it was probably the song of that boy group hanging on the ceiling.

-Clunk

The man whose voice had been desperately calling for me opened the door.

“Look at this thing still sprawled out on the bed. At your age, does your dad still need to come wake you up?”

“…Yeah.”

A man calling my name and introducing himself as my father,

I stared blankly at his face for a moment, then only realized when I saw my reflection in the vanity mirror beside him.

That the Do-young Ban this man was looking for

wasn’t the Do-young Ban I knew.

“Ohhh…”

“What are you ‘oh’-ing about? Hurry up and get moving.”

The reflection in the mirror showed that I had become

the character from the webtoon cover I had started binge-reading last night at my friends’ suggestion.

With that mischievous smile from the series finale celebration cover,

I had become the heroine of “I Don’t Even Like You a Quarter of a Bit,”

who had filled me with anticipation before I could properly read the first episode.

“Hey, Do-young Ban! Why are you suddenly running to the bathroom when I told you to eat and wash up?”

“To check if I’m still a virgin!”

“What?”

In this world I’d fallen into without context, I decided to first check what assets I had.

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.

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“It’s gone.”

As expected, though I knew it wouldn’t be there, it really wasn’t.

My 27-year-old used goods.

“It’s here.”

I thought it would have been removed already, but the packaging label on my lower body was still intact.

A benefit of an all-ages webtoon.

“Brand new.”

A red bloodstain visible on the white sanitary pad layered over pink underwear.

Seems like it was that time of the period.

“Ugh…!”

As soon as I realized this body was on its period, pain rose from my lower abdomen.

I could clearly feel the vengeful egg’s fist delivering a fierce uppercut.

“Well, at least this isn’t a dream…”

I experienced my first menstrual cramps just 10 minutes after realizing I had become a woman.

No corporate ace’s handover could ever be this quick.

So where did the original Do-young Ban’s personality go?

Surely it didn’t flush down the toilet with that menstrual blood.

No, more importantly, did the original Do-young Ban’s personality even exist?

Being transported into a webtoon I just started reading yesterday, could these people here have had personalities and behaviors before that?

It wasn’t something I could verify in my current confused state.

“Anyway… she is pretty.”

With a deep sigh, I looked up at the mirror attached to the bathroom cabinet.

Only after verifying the presence or absence of important assets

did I have the leisure to properly check the additional assets reflected in the bathroom mirror.

I calmly observed the face reflected in the mirror, resting my chin between my thumb and index finger.

Even under the pale, cold bathroom light

and in a household bathroom mirror covered with water stains, Do-young Ban’s reflected face naturally made me say “pretty.”

Long, straight black hair falling neatly,

starkly contrasting with white, spotless skin even without basic makeup.

Add to that the fantasy-enhanced brilliant green eyes

and the perky, firm chest for the same fictional reasons.

Don’t they say that one doesn’t even dare approach and speak to someone truly beautiful?

The type of beauty that doesn’t need to compensate for lacking charm with makeup and clothes,

but rather emphasizes her beauty by reducing flashiness because her basic appearance itself is outstanding—the beauty of empty space.

Do-young Ban was clearly closer to the latter type.

One could say that such highly developed beauty was conversely conducive to preserving virginity.

“Excellent, Sister Do-young.”

“What’s with the ‘Sister’ talk, you crazy girl. Just eat your breakfast. You’ll be late.”

“Yes.”

The time I had been transported into “Quarter of a Bit”‘s heroine,

Do-young Ban, was right before the start of Chapter 1.

It was just before her high school entrance.

“Today’s the last day I’m coming up to your room on the second floor to wake you up. Remember our agreement about meal duty? Monday through Thursday is Dad, Friday and weekends are you, Do-young.”

“Uh-huh.”

A modest breakfast with just father and daughter.

As I put scrambled eggs (that had started as rolled eggs before changing careers) on top of rice,

I calmly tried to absorb Do-young Ban’s settings in the story.

“Dad’s busy today. I have to distribute recruitment flyers all day to prepare for the new semester.”

The Ban family had been running a kendo dojo in the neighborhood for quite some time.

This explained the source of Do-young’s oriental beauty and healthy, fit physique.

From the family photos, I confirmed that the family consisted of mother, father,

and three children—an older brother, Do-young, and a younger sister—a family of five.

“Why are you doing it alone? Can’t you make my brother do it?”

“What are you talking about? You want me to ask your brother to go AWOL from the military to put up flyers?”

“Ah, then what about my sister?”

“Did you wake up stupid? Did you forget Si-young is studying abroad?”

“Ah, right. My, my, everyone’s working so hard.”

The older brother was in the military,

and the younger sister was studying abroad for kendo-related reasons.

It seemed the mother had gone with the younger sister to take care of her.

Currently, the only people left at home were Do-young Ban

and her father, Ban Do-che.

The modest dining table and disorganized clutter around the otherwise spacious house created a strange sense of loneliness.

“Since your high school is attached to the middle school building you’ve been attending, you can go to school by yourself, right?”

“Huh? But it’s your beloved daughter’s high school entrance ceremony, shouldn’t you come with me at least once?”

One must utilize available weapons to their fullest potential.

I launched a deadly aegyo attack toward Dad, using Do-young’s appearance as the story’s most beautiful girl as my weapon.

I couldn’t even finish skimming Chapter 1 of the webtoon.

There was no way I would know the route to school.

I had no choice but to be a high school girl relying on Dad, my only ally right now.

“And, you know, today’s my painful day. I’m such a good daughter going to school without even taking sick leave for my period, please drive me there.”

“…Cut the crap and grab your bag and get out if you’re done eating.”

“Yes.”

He was the type of father who raises his daughter with tough love, rarely seen these days.

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.

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“Ugh… it’s fucking cold, fucking painful.”

My chest was tight, my waist loose, and my lower abdomen hurt.

The morning walk to school in uniform.

The new semester morning in a Korean webtoon is utterly bleak.

“Don’t tell me this school still has a ban on wearing outerwear during commute…”

The cold wind penetrated between my tightly fitted skirt.

Having just been soaked with blood made the wind feel especially cold and stinging.

A school path full of bright cherry blossoms? That’s only possible in Japanese manga.

Korean webtoons don’t have such things.

The early March morning, barely shedding its winter traits,

was filled with cold that couldn’t be blocked by just a school blazer.

Forget cherry blossoms—when it’s cold, even the magnolias that should bloom keep their buds closed.

Of course, with magnolias, the problem comes after they bloom fully.

At first, they bloom into large, beautiful white flowers, but after a short time, they turn brownish and fall to the ground like used sanitary pads, looking quite grotesque.

Not a suitable flower for someone like me who is physically a perfect virgin right now.

“Phew, I can see it there.”

The path to school was found sooner than expected.

Although I couldn’t have known the way since I hadn’t even properly skimmed Chapter 1,

From the moment I stepped out the front door, I could see the building with the school name, so I didn’t get lost.

It was unmistakable, matching the school logo on my blazer.

No wonder Dad so firmly refused to take me to school when it was close enough to fall and touch with my nose.

“First-year students for the entrance ceremony, please wait in your assigned first-year classrooms until the broadcast announcement!”

Assigned class, huh.

Which class was I in again?

I had scrolled through quickly with sleepy eyes without paying attention to class assignments,

so I couldn’t remember which class Do-young was in.

Having arrived at school too early,

there weren’t even other students around to ask.

But it’s fine.

Usually, protagonists, unless it’s an isekai academy story,

are almost always in either Class 1 or Class 3.

If it’s an isekai academy, then it’s Class E or F.

-Slide

I boldly opened the back door of Class 1, the first classroom I saw.

“…Oh.”

By the window in the very back of the classroom,

I saw a boy sitting alone, looking out the window and chewing on his solitude in this still calm classroom.

A smaller build than Do-young, a girl of the same age,

slightly empty, wandering eyes behind greasy glasses that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Freckles under his eyes that could be called cute if viewed favorably, but might seem messy if viewed negatively,

his appearance would make it difficult to stand at the center of the wild pack that is school, even with goodwill.

But in this world where everything must be unfamiliar after being dropped here,

looking at that boy was the first time I felt a sense of familiarity, of recognition.

“That bastard must be the one who’s going to take my virginity.”

Do Ha-min, the protagonist of “I Don’t Even Like You a Quarter of a Bit.”

He was right there.