“It’s asking if you know about the hyosi of Aura. So, do you know how Aura first appeared? If you don’t know, write that you don’t know.”
“Yes.”
Cheche wrote “I don’t know.” After that he asked about several unknown words, and Evil answered with a sullen face.
With so many words you don’t know and being stupid, you’ve lived here for a whole year.
At first Evil didn’t think ‘hyosi’ or ‘beomju’ were difficult words. Just how ignorant is this refugee? But later he thought, why did they make the assessment form with such difficult words? The person taking this test might be from a poor country who didn’t receive proper education.
While Evil was thinking such thoughts, Cheche reached the last item. It was an essay-type item asking what specifically he wanted to do if he became an Aura User. The writer had to write in as moral and ethical a direction as possible.
Cheche wrote down his answer in clumsy Alcity characters.
If I am an Aura User, I want to helb Tar
Seeing Cheche put down his pen after that, Evil felt stuffy inside his chest. He couldn’t express it precisely, but it felt like a huge stone had been placed on his heart.
“It’s not ‘helb,’ it’s ‘help.’ It has a ‘p’ final consonant, you id…”
Why can’t I say idiot?
“Thank you for teaching me.”
Cheche scratched out ‘helb’ and corrected it.
“‘Sifsumnida’ is ‘sipseumnida’… wait, why is this wrong? You wrote that one correctly.”
The ‘that’ Evil mentioned was the warning posted on Cheche’s house wall.
People are livibg here Do not urinibe
Not knowing that fact, Cheche tilted his head and blinked his large eyes.
“What?”
“That, that… Fuck, why is this wrong? Just answer.”
“I’m a bit confused about ‘seumnida.’ When to use ‘ㅁ’ and when to use ‘ㅂ’…”
“There’s no case where you use ‘ㅁ,’ stu-“
Having stopped mid-word trying to say “stupid,” Evil’s face flushed red from making a strange dog sound. Whether Evil was dying of embarrassment or not, Cheche was indifferent.
“But there are cases where you use ‘ㅁ.'”
“When?”
“Here.”
Cheche opened the bag he’d set aside. It was the crossbody bag he always carried. From the bag Cheche took out a book that had become tattered from being read so much.
<Alcity Language, Finished in a Month>. After turning a few pages, the sentence Cheche mentioned appeared.
I became a doctor, which was my childhood dream (o)
I became a doctor, which was my childhood dream. (x)
It seemed they’d made a typo while explaining ‘doe’ and ‘dwae.’ Perhaps confused while studying, he’d underlined it several times with pencil.
Evil felt stuffy as if his heart had been pelted with stones.
Does this publisher have thoughts or not? What if people who know nothing like refugees see this and believe it? For someone without a teacher to teach them, this is their textbook. Studying relying only on this…
“This is a typo. ‘Seumnida’ is correct. There’s no ‘ㅁ,’ so from now on always write it with ‘ㅂ.'”
When Evil explained, Cheche gave a deflated answer: “So it was a typo…” This sentence, one of the things that had confused Cheche during his year in Alcity, was a typo. It was such a futile result.
Cheche’s assessment form completion continued until just before lunch. He spent over an hour on a simple task that would take thirty minutes at most. Because of that, all the day’s plans went awry.
“Ah, damn it. Just take the test tomorrow and rest today.”
In the end, Evil gave the measurement room staff one more day of preparation time.
When entering actual measurement, they had to do many various tests, and among those tests were complicated tests that would make Cheche’s small brain, which had suffered from papers written in foreign languages all morning, explode, so he ended up postponing it to the next day.
“Let’s go eat.”
When Evil stood up at mealtime, James quickly approached.
“Where will you go today?”
“Go somewhere that has porridge and stuff. The refugee bastard caught a cold.”
“I’m better now.”
Cheche, who was standing up to follow, corrected him.
“The cold is all better now.”
“Already? You were coughing all last week… Well, you haven’t coughed once today.”
Evil already knew the cold was better and had scheduled the measurement because it was better, yet he answered very shamelessly. He looked down at Cheche and raised the corners of his mouth in a grin.
“The medicine I bought for you must have worked well.”
“Yes, thank you.”
I bought it.
James muttered inwardly.
“It’s the first time I bought cold medicine, but I bought really effective ones.”
“Thank you.”
I bought it!
James shouted inwardly.
“I deliberately bought a lot in case you catch a cold again. Take it for a long time from now on.”
“Yes.”
To Evil, who was smiling showing how pleased he was, Cheche asked after a brief pause.
“But are we eating together again today?”
Evil’s expression crumpled mercilessly.
“Why, what, so you don’t like it?”
“I don’t dislike it, but.”
“You don’t?”
James and the measurement room staff clutched their foreheads. Why stimulate him when you could just quietly follow along?
“This is ridiculous, who’s more… (He tried to say dirty but somehow couldn’t say it) stu… (He tried to say stupid but somehow his tongue froze) Anyway, you think I want to eat with a refugee bastard? I’m also enduring fucking annoyance to eat with you, yet you dare, who the hell are you, why!”
The enraged Evil raised his voice. Just as the pleased and grinning SSS Multi User was about to evolve into an enraged psycho devil, Cheche quietly added.
“I feel sorry for constantly getting treated. If it’s okay, I’d like to buy for you today.”
Both James and Evil understood those words a beat late.
“…What?”
“If it’s okay, I’d like to buy for you today.”
“You’ll buy me food?”
“Yes, do you dislike it?”
“…If you really want to… well.”
Evil’s mouth corners twitched, and the terrifyingly flashing red eyes subsided gently.
“What if I ask you to buy something damn expensive?”
“It’s okay.”
“You won’t be able to handle it.”
“I know you’ll go to a place I can handle, Director.”
“…Ha, this is ridiculous.”
Evil’s voice cracked slightly. The audience listening to their conversation had the same reaction as Evil inwardly. What kind of words are those to someone who would rather choose a restaurant to bankrupt Cheche?
Evil rolled his eyes hesitantly like a troublemaker hearing praise for the first time, then shouted abruptly.
“You think I’d go to places beggars like you go? Hey! Go there. That, the place that does Ezibidi set meals.”
“Yes.”
James answered first, then asked.
“By any chance, are you referring to the place we went to during the meeting with Adapters this summer?”
“Fuck, are you asking because you don’t know that?”
“…I’m sorry.”
Though he answered for now, James felt gloomy. Not because he was worried about Cheche paying for that restaurant. Because that restaurant was booked for at least the next six months and wouldn’t even accept customers unless it was a gathering of world leaders, it was impossible to eat there today.
Should I quit?
It seemed like this time there really was no answer but resignation, when—
“Never mind. Book it for next week. Go somewhere nearby today.”
Evil reversed his own words. He didn’t know the reason, but for James it was extremely fortunate. He couldn’t even ask the reason in case this capricious devil changed his words again.
“Why aren’t we going today?”
Not knowing such feelings, Cheche asked fearlessly. James sneered inwardly.
‘You still don’t know. Would this fickle one explain the reason?’
At the same time, Evil spoke.
“Are you really stupid? You have to be measured tomorrow. That place is too far, so with your shitty stamina you won’t be able to be measured properly after going there and back. Let’s go somewhere nearby today.”
