episode_0149

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From childhood until now, sitting idly in the infirmary—

If I had to name one thing I dislike, it would probably be talking to men.

To be precise, it’s not quite hatred, but rather that I don’t enjoy it.

No matter how long I drag it out, there’s nothing in it for me, and all that remains is the exhaustion of having spoken—so I’ve never had much interest in it.

“Fascinating. So this is how it feels~”

“…”

“Something warm keeps poking into me?”

“…”

“At first, when you grabbed my wrist, it hurt a little, but now it seems fine?”

“…”

I think I heard his name last time.

Or maybe I just glimpsed his face in passing.

Either way, unlike me, this guy seems to thoroughly enjoy conversations with the same sex.

Even though I’m not responding and just silently treating him, seeing him like this makes his claim of not enjoying it seem even more bizarre.

…Ah, I wish he’d just quietly get treated and leave like the other boys.

But I can’t exactly tell him to shut up.

If I respond with unnecessary answers, it’s obvious the conversation will drag on…

In the end, the best option is to ignore him until the treatment is over.

Since it won’t even take a minute, I suppress a sigh and continue the treatment quietly, no matter what the guy in front of me says.

“Ah, last time, because of my senior’s orders, I read the ‘special admission’ documents. Uh… Seo Woo-jin, teacher? Hmm. The name tag is hard to see. It’s covered.”

“…”

“At first, it was annoying, but then I got curious—how much salary does it take to keep a transcendent healer as an infirmary teacher? So I kept reading.”

“…”

“You’re younger than you look, huh? I thought you were around 23 or 24, but you’re actually 20? Is it because of your styling?”

“…”

“Besides, you weren’t even originally an infirmary teacher—more like an infirmary committee member? Your position is kinda weird too.”

“…”

“Anyway, what I was most curious about was the salary, but all it mentioned was covering it with a full scholarship…”

“Hey.”

For a moment, I wondered if this guy was a spy like Baek Seo-yeon, but that thought is long gone now.

As I raise my head and speak quietly, my eyes meet his face, which had been smiling until just now.

Small face.

Big, distinct eyes, nose, and lips.

The so-called ‘idol face.’

Since I’m a guy, I can’t say for sure, but I imagine girls would really like his vibe.

Feeling inexplicably irritated, I continue.

“So, you’re curious about my salary?”

“Ah, that wasn’t my point, but… well, if you tell me, that’d be great. Does it really go up to the billions? Online, the rumors about healers’ rates are insane. Like, American billionaires pay tens of billions a year to hire them worldwide—”

“You literally just said you read the documents because you were curious about the salary. What do you mean it wasn’t your point?”

“Ah—c’mon, that was just a joke. A joke. Why take it so seriously?”

“…Why even joke like that?”

“Since when do jokes need a reason? If you really want one, it’s just to lighten the mood. Ice-breaking. Ever heard of it?”

Is this supposed to be some kind of ‘cool kid’ speech manner?

To me, he just seems like a rude brat.

Or maybe it’s closer to an oblivious loner trying to socialize.

I frown slightly and hold his gaze for a moment.

Huu… I let out a small sigh and lower my head.

This guy and I just don’t match.

No matter how hard I try to get used to him, things won’t improve—and there’s no reason I should try.

Seeing how he hangs around with Baek Seo-yeon, if he’s not a spy, they’re probably friends or something…

“It goes up to the billions. Happy now?”

“Hah… So it all comes out of Chairman Seok’s pocket, huh? The budget didn’t spike compared to last year. Figures—he’s loaded anyway.”

“The treatment’s almost done. Could you stay still?”

“Yep, yep. It didn’t hurt anymore, so I thought it was already over.”

That girl.

Her tastes are disgustingly unique.

149

An achievement with nothing to boast about doesn’t bring pride—it only brings suffering.

Because humans are born with an innate desire to be acknowledged by others.

No one will recognize you for eliminating foreign spies in the shadows.

Even if you obtain an ultra-rare item in a game, no one will care if you can’t show it off.

Even if you casually flick a plastic bottle and it lands perfectly upside down on your first try, no one will believe you unless it’s recorded.

Among all the people in the world, only you will ever know.

And it feels agonizing.

I realized this thanks to a small trigger—a trivial conversation I overheard during practical training.

“Isn’t that NTR? What’s NTL?”

We were practicing low-rise building evacuations during a fire drill… but that’s not important.

Still in sweat-drenched gym clothes, I sat on the floor to rest for a bit.

Fearing eye contact, I turned my head slightly and fiddled with my zipper to feign disinterest as I listened to the chatter from the corner.

“Shh—keep it down, dumbass! There are other people around. Over there, Han Soo-ah and Lee Ji-yoon—”

“My voice isn’t that loud. Quit overreacting. They aren’t even looking this way. Anyway, isn’t that NTR?”

“Nah. You only know the NTR tag from Hitomi, don’t you?”

“Hitomi? You mean the tags on porn sites? Yeah, I—”

“Ugh… For someone who acts like they know, you know nothing.”

Exactly.

That’s not knowing.

It’s not even “I know a bit”—it’s straight-up elementary-school-tier comprehension.

But it’s not like I’m close enough to them to correct them.

From admission until now, not a single word has been exchanged between us. At best, we’re strangers.

So I just sat there, hugging my knees, silently listening to their conversation.

“NTR is getting cucked. NTL is doing the cucking. Got it now?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“You’re projecting onto completely different people. How is that the same?”

“…‘Projecting’ makes it sound like some otaku shit.”

“If you got off to NTR, you were probably projecting as the NTL guy. Stealing someone’s girl—simple and hot.”

“But I’d rather—”

“……”

Overall, their debate boiled down to “this is hotter,” “no, this is hotter,” a pointless argument between guys.

To summarize:

Judging by the sheer volume of works and popularity polls, NTR—specifically NTL—is the hottest.

No, actually, primal rape fantasies are the hottest…

…Truly a refined discussion.

The kind of meaningless chatter you’d see on boring internet forums.

Normally, I’d think what idiots and check my phone, but today, I couldn’t.

Because… I actually did it yesterday.

Stealing my sister’s boyfriend behind her back.

Tch. Morons.

Have those two ever actually done it before running their mouths?

NTL… So fucking hot.

Comparing it to rape?

Pisses me off.

Losers like Lee Ha-yoon are into that kind of thing.

“……”

But of course, I couldn’t say a word.

Two guys huddled in a corner arguing about what’s hotter is already laughable enough—what happens if a girl butts in?

That’s social suicide.

I just want to live comfortably without unnecessary emotional baggage, not be judged by everyone around me.

…Besides, even if I whispered something like “Tried it myself—NTL’s way hotter,” what would I gain?

Excruciating shame?

They’d get a new fap material for a day or two, then start creeping on me for more pervy chats.

All I’d get is shame?

…Keh.

Fuck that. Not happening.

I’m not some grotesque masochist. No way.

Ugh— Frustration wells up, and I hug my knees tighter before finally pulling out my phone.

Opening KakaoTalk, I see:

Game ads.

KakaoPay.

Emojis.

Insurance promotions.

And above them—my sister.

Above her—Seo Woo-jin.

I briefly ignore my sister’s “When are you coming home?” and carefully message Seo Woo-jin instead.

[Lee Ji-yoon] – What are you doing? – You pervert.

I wanted to type “You idiot,” but I held back.

Because the real idiot is me—who let him creampie me like an idiot.

…My heart pounds the second I message him. It’s like we’re secretly dating or something.

And as I interpret his “Do you like me too?” from last night entirely to my liking, the chat shifts up.

[Seo Woo-jin] – In the infirmary. – Why ask something so obvious? – Ah, headache again? – If it hurts, come. No one’s here now.

Blunt.

Yet his subtle concern makes me happy.

Honestly, it’s the same tone as always, but…

Why does it tickle my heart so much today?

Because he didn’t deny being a pervert?

Because he replied instantly?

Because imagining him in a white coat in the infirmary is hot?

“…Heh.”

…Psycho.

I’m a complete psycho.

Lee Ji-yoon, you’ve got it bad.

I rub my face against my arm resting on my knees and keep texting.

This way, if my cheeks turn red, I can blame it on the friction.

[Lee Ji-yoon] – Can I come now? – I’m in class.

[Seo Woo-jin] – It’s fine. – Lots of people come during class. – They get hurt during class, so obviously. Dumbass.

[Lee Ji-yoon] – Lots? – How many?

[Seo Woo-jin] – Two or three an hour? – Sometimes none. Sometimes in groups. If it’s a bad leg injury, I get called there.

[Lee Ji-yoon] – So no one’s there now.

[Seo Woo-jin] – Yeah.

11:20 AM.

An unbearably awkward time—just before lunch.

The perfect time to skip class under the guise of feeling unwell.

Brushing off my shorts, I stand and approach the teacher in the corner—still in my gym clothes.

“Ha-yoon! You okay? Not hurt? …cough… Damn dust…”

“I’m alive…”

“Are you… cough… hurt bad?”

“…”

“Ha-yoon?”

“Pinky finger got twisted…”

“Tch—then quit whining and get out…!”

“Heh… Feels nice being worried about… Haven’t gotten this treatment lately since I haven’t gotten hurt…”

“I thought you got into a fight with Yoo Si-woo over his wrist injury and got messed up… Just go to the first-floor infirmary already.”

“Mkay…”