Eomma raised me better than that, I was never a coward, neither was I like appa, as he would definitely have done that.
All that was left for me was putting up with Choi Hana's shit, and constantly mocking and pressing her buttons with words because I'm no pushover. If she wanted to hit me, I could very well give her reasons to. She wanted to have a sense of power, so I let her, even if it was fake and we both knew that if I dared, I could easily overpower her.
In the end, she knew she wasn't exerting superiority over me, because the only was she was superior to me was in age, nothing else. I was a head taller than her even if she was the tallest of the girls, I was bigger and more toned in muscles, I was smarter and my family was also more wealthy.
When we graduated, I got into Yonsei University, in Seoul, for Civil Engineering, which made appa even more furious since he only would Business, Law, and Med rewarding, while eomma took my side on it and it was her that helped me pay my tuition and not him. I moved into the campus and began to study and work, I used all of my time on those as I had to make eomma proud, she believed me and I couldn't let her down.
To land a good work that would pay enough for me to help with my fill in the tuition, I used my arts skills, I had always been profoundly gifted at drawing, so, I offered my work as an illustrator for any rising novelist who was going to have their novel adapted for a manhwa, a rich one if possible, and I added some examples of how well I could draw.
Thirteen different people contacted me, all agents, each one giving me a summarized version of what the novels in question were about. I picked the one that had more than 200 million views, the tilted was something like a guy returner from whatever and had to survive something. To be honest, I couldn't care less, I just knew it would pay well since the novelist was rich, and that was it.
My mind was full of wanting to make money and of my Civil Engineering studies to care about whatever the novel was about. Thinking about the money hurt my head.
The tuition of Engineering majors there was about US$6,150 in dollar per year, which converted to won at the time was 8 million 232 thousand and 882 won, a year. Drawing the art for the manhwa paid considerably well when speaking of art, but it wasn't enough, since I knew eomma was having trouble with appa for helping me out, and that made me want more money. Which led me to work with construction on the weekends' afternoons, as well as serving tables at a local pub from 9 pm to 1 am.
I had no free time to anything, but thankfully the construction work involved carrying heavy weight all the time, so I was able to keep my shape. And I became even more fixated on making money because I had to pay for my own food and I ate a lot. I didn't want to ask eomma for anything else.
Engineering studies, manhwa drawing work, server work at the pub, construction work. Engineering studies, manhwa drawing work, server work at the pub, construction work. Engineering studies, manhwa drawing work, server work at the pub, construction work.
It became a vicious cycle that ate me alive, but in the end, it all meant the same thing.
Make money, make money, make money. Make more money, make more money, make more money. Not enough money, make more. Make money, make money, make money.
Goddamn capitalism, it tired my soul out.
Even then, I kept my grade up and graduated at 21 years old, four years in, and then came my military enlistment, I was dispatched to serve the air force, which different from the army and marine and navy, it lasts a longer period of 24 months. However, I managed to keep my work as a manhwa artist for that novel that I couldn't care less about, because it grew famous and I began to get more money from it.
At 23, I finished my time serving and went back to living in Seoul, but for the next six months, all the Civil Engineer works I tried to land, I was denied, even though my grades had always been perfect, the universe didn't let me go on my way. Which left me no choice but to become a full time manhwa artist.
For that, I took more two works, one a female romance with revenge and time travel that was pretty lame but paid really handsomely, and the novel of a really rich kid about a red-haired heir to a whatever kingdom with a shit story and even shittier male lead and the worse of all plots: harem. I was disgusted by the whole thing, I didn't even read it all, I only passed my eyes over it, but the agent insisted in me making the art and paid fatly.
I couldn't care less about the story then, all I could think of was the money. On my weekends, I took back my part time work as a helper in the construction sight, all for the heavy weight, and because the old guy who took care of the work was pretty nice to me, which was unusual.
The highlight was when I was two months away from 24 and a hot girl moved next door, she resembled Choi Hana painfully, but her name was Han Yerim, she was tall around 170cm and her body was a monument, her tits were even bigger than Hana's, and to make it better, her clothes left little to imagination. Her hair was pitch black, long around her waist, and smelled pretty nice.
When she came to me and asked me to go out on a date with her, three weeks after she had just arrived next door, I thought I would finally kiss and lose my virginity. Fuck, I really wanted that girl in a physical level, so much my balls hurt, so, I obviously said yes, to which she winked and said she had the perfect place.
I should have known something was wrong when that hot girl asked me out herself, but I was stupid and moved on a desire for sex. My lower head controlled the one on my neck, which had a disastrous end.
How would I know she was in a CULT?
There was no way of knowing that she would take me to a shady place, not to fuck, but to use me as a human sacrifice because she somehow learned I was a virgin. Was that so obvious? Did I had "virgin" tattooed on my damn face?
I always thought I looked fuckable, but seems like I looked like the damn virgin that I was.
Last I realized I was tied up on a altar, surrounded by freaks in dark red cloaks, and Han Yerim was stabbing my heart with a curved dagger to bleed me in their goblets so they could drink my blood to perform whatever satanic ritual that was.
And despite everything, all that I could think was that I should have told eomma how much I loved her one last time.