Chapter 13
Second Tale
You Shouldn’t Take in an Animal You Can’t Raise (2)
Si-ha looked around the shared entrance of the house. Fortunately, there was no sign of Cheon-yul’s shadow.
She felt slightly relieved and stepped inside.
But waiting for her was Cheon-yul, sprawled across the bed, reading a book he had brought from somewhere.
“You came back sooner than I thought, little human.”
Yesterday, he had worn a simple set of clothes made of plain fabric, but now he was dressed in a stylish shirt and jeans, though no one knew where he had gotten them.
Thanks to Cheon-yul’s remarkable adaptability, he no longer looked like the naive brainless creature he truly was; instead, he resembled a successful college student, a model member of modern society.
His divine form was imposing, his hair a flashy blonde, and his features striking. If he wandered around the streets like that, he could easily attract attention from several women.
Even though he was originally a beast, his transformation skills combined with his aesthetic sense made his handsome human appearance look completely natural.
Si-ha felt a headache coming on.
Next to her, Su-won lowered his gaze and murmured.
“I’m sorry. I tried to stop him, but he forced his way in…”
Si-ha stared at Su-won incredulously, silently asking if that made sense. He admitted the truth.
“And… I felt a little sorry because he reminded me of my former self. He’s not causing any harm, so please overlook it this once.”
Su-won, who had once fallen from divinity as a former Seonangshin, felt a sense of camaraderie when looking at Cheon-yul and couldn’t just leave him be.
Cheon-yul laughed with a triumphant expression.
“Truly a land deity full of compassion, aren’t you?”
Su-won shot Cheon-yul an annoyed glare, but Cheon-yul pushed his book aside, sat cross-legged, and watched Si-ha unpack her things.
He spoke in a slightly disappointed tone to Si-ha, who barely even glanced his way.
“Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“I just think none of the things you do are worth getting mad about.”
“Good, good. So you’re not angry. I told you, little human, you don’t seem to mind much, contrary to what you say.”
Cheon-yul poked Su-won’s side teasingly, as if provoking him.
“So, why did you come?”
Cheon-yul blinked at Si-ha’s question.
“Why did I come? How can you say something so cold? I came because I wanted to see someone I love.”
“You don’t really love me either.”
“True. I only imitate someone in love, but I don’t truly know love yet. Has it only been a day?”
“Even if it’s a day, it won’t change. Ten years from now, it’ll be the same.”
Su-won interjected, and Cheon-yul waved him off.
“Don’t worry about that. Even lifelong close friends can suddenly develop romantic feelings for each other. Who’s to say we won’t progress the same way?”
“And where did you hear that?”
Cheon-yul shook the book he had been reading. Si-ha and Su-won saw the title:
I Am Forced to Love My Boss and Childhood Friend
Even from the title, it was obvious it was a romance novel.
“As you said, I don’t really understand love. So sometimes, you have to borrow wisdom from books.”
Learning love from books—Cheon-yul was exactly that kind of person.
“You can read?”
“Do you take me for some illiterate fool? How could I perform my duties if I couldn’t read? I even know who created Hangul! It was King Sejong!”
Cheon-yul grumbled, but Si-ha thought he was quite fascinating and studied him silently.
“What else do you know about the mortal world?”
“Well… my last descent to the mortal world was decades ago by your standards, so there’s a gap between my prior knowledge and reality. I don’t really know what has changed and what hasn’t. But while I was apart from you, I wandered around a bit and realized that life for humans is essentially all the same.”
“Decades have passed—so how old are you?”
“Good question. Time flows differently in the celestial and mortal realms, so decades here might mean over a hundred years there… I haven’t counted my age in a long time. I’m definitely over a thousand, but how many years past that?”
As Cheon-yul counted on his fingers, Si-ha felt a sudden sense of distance.
“Ugh, forget it. Let’s just use the human age I appear to be. I’m twenty-four!”
Even then, the gap wasn’t bridged. Then, Si-ha became curious about where Cheon-yul had gotten the romance novel in his hands.
“Where did you get that book?”
Cheon-yul answered shamelessly.
“Snatched it from a human bookstore?”
“And your clothes?”
“Snatched them from laundry hung outside?”
“You’ve been happily stealing outside without me noticing?!”
Si-ha finally lost her patience. She could tolerate things limited to herself, but not actions harmful to society.
“You claim to be a god, yet you commit theft?”
“I didn’t take it permanently. I’ll return everything to its proper place.”
“Cheon-yul, you should know that’s still considered theft.”
But Cheon-yul showed no signs of remorse.
“You really…”
Si-ha, with a somewhat obsessive motion, pulled out a few ten-thousand-won bills from her wallet.
“Here, go pay for the book properly at the store. Return the clothes too…”
Cheon-yul didn’t refuse and quickly took the money, carefully examining the green bills he had never seen before.
“How much is this worth?”
As he had said, Cheon-yul had only descended to the human world after decades. He knew the value of currency had changed in the meantime.
“This covers three days of my meals.”
“Is the book expensive, or are your meals ridiculously cheap?”
“Both.”
“You really live frugally, little human.”
Cheon-yul clicked his tongue in genuine pity.
Si-ha ignored him lightly and corrected a point she wanted to set straight since yesterday.
“Yun Si-ha.”
“What?”
“My name is Yun Si-ha. Not ‘little human.’”
Cheon-yul finally realized he didn’t even know the name of the person he kept calling “little human.”
“You never even thought to ask my name, did you? You just called me ‘little human,’ right? Look at that—you care so little about me. And you say you want to love me?”
Si-ha’s words made sense, and Cheon-yul groaned in distress.
Even though he was learning love from books, he understood one thing: it was natural to want to know everything about someone you love.
But Cheon-yul, unfamiliar with such things, had even forgotten to ask Si-ha’s name. There was no excuse for that.
Su-won, beside them, wore an expression that said, Well, of course.
Actually, when he had chased Cheon-yul yesterday, Cheon-yul hadn’t seemed curious about Si-ha’s name. So Su-won had not corrected him, and Si-ha hadn’t mentioned her name first, which was why Cheon-yul had called her “little human.”
“I’m sorry, little human… I mean, Yun Si-ha.”
Cheon-yul apologized cautiously, but Si-ha hadn’t expected an apology, so she only nodded shortly.
“Good. Then I’ll take your advice and learn more about you.”
In other words, she was about to conduct a thorough investigation of him.
Si-ha hadn’t expected that by stepping in, Cheon-yul would start pestering her, so she showed a disgusted expression.
“…Do I really have to know everything?”
“What do you mean? You said I don’t care about you, right? I want to take an interest now. In return… well, if you’re curious about something, don’t hesitate—ask me anything.”
“I’m not really curious about anything.”
She didn’t want to get tangled too deeply by knowing too much.
“But if I only get my questions answered, you’d be at a disadvantage. If you don’t have any questions now, postpone them. But if later you are curious, ask me anything, and I’ll answer honestly.”
Si-ha doubted she’d ever have a reason to do so.
“So, what’s your age and occupation?”
Si-ha instinctively knew avoiding the answer wouldn’t solve anything, so she responded half-heartedly to match his tone.
“Twenty-one, a part-time dusk hunter, currently on leave from school.”
“Part-time?”
Cheon-yul, unfamiliar with the modern loanword, repeated.
“Like a temporary job.”
“So you’re on leave, meaning you’re not studying right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“No money.”
“Ah, so you earn by working as a dusk hunter… I see.”
While this happened, Su-won kept glancing between Si-ha and Cheon-yul, listening to their conversation.
“Where’s your family? Do you live alone?”
“They’re not here.”
“You mean no parents or siblings?”
“I have relatives at my aunt’s, but no direct family.”
Cheon-yul didn’t press further. Instead, he spoke lightly, as if offering a small comfort.
“It’s fine. I don’t have direct family either.”
He didn’t count Unjung-gun, whom he could only describe as abandoned, as family.
“But in life, that doesn’t really become a problem.”
Si-ha, however, didn’t agree. She had often felt lonely without family. She had faced the world too early, without the protective shield of family. It had been deeply painful and sorrowful.
