Chapter 5: Pocket Monster

“Will you please look over here? You’re impossible.”

Lee Doha, who had been flicking through his phone with a bored expression, looked up as if it were the greatest chore in the world. Kim Yoon-hye carefully placed something like a cold film strip under his eye and then peeled it away. He instinctively touched the spot, feeling a dampness, before letting out a long, drawn-out yawn. Kim Yoon-hye clicked her tongue.

“After all the chaos you caused this morning….”

“Chaos? What chaos?”

“You call screaming your head off and startling everyone in the rooms in front, beside, and below you not chaos?”

“Let’s just take it easy.”

Lee Doha habitually wiped under his eye again. A set of jet-black letters, which hadn’t been there before, was now tattooed on his skin. It was his Contract Name, illegible to ordinary people who weren’t Contractors. A name he’d barely caught, mumbled by his Contractor as they drew their last breath.

That morning, upon discovering the strange tattoo on his face while washing up in the bathroom, Lee Doha had let out a blood-curdling shriek that echoed through the entire hospital ward. Just as Kim Yoon-hye had said, he had startled not only the security guard on patrol but also the occupants of the rooms in front, beside, and below him, prompting them all to call for help.

‘How could I get such an embarrassing tattoo on my face?’ He had thrown a fit, ranting that it was like advertising to the world that a dark flame dragon slept in his right arm. He’d vowed to kill his Contractor and then himself, only calming down and adopting a posture of deep remorse after a swift, hard smack on the back from his mother.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get slapped across the face.”

Frowning slightly, Lee Doha opened his mouth to retort, but finding he had nothing to say, he just sighed heavily. It had been nonsense, of course, but he had talked about dying in front of his mother. She wasn’t wrong.

“Are we done yet?”

“All done. You can go home now. Don’t forget to come back next week.”

“Can you give me a lift in a helicopter?”

Kim Yoon-hye gave him a pathetic look. Lee Doha nonchalantly shrugged.

“You said they were swarming like tadpoles. The reporters already know everything down to our third cousins and the name of our neighbor’s hamster. They’ll recognize my father’s car instantly.”

“Then buy one.”

“What, a helicopter?”

Lee Doha shot her a look that screamed, *Are you crazy?*, only to have the very same look mirrored back at him. It was then that Lee Doha, a common citizen to his core, finally realized. ‘Ah, I’m rich now.’ And not just rich; he was on track to become a chaebol, rubbing shoulders with the likes of Mansour. Less than a day had passed since he’d formed the contract, and his phone was already ringing off the hook with calls from Energen, the government, and even some entertainment agency.

‘Ugh, this is so annoying.’ Lee Doha flopped down on the examination table. The ceiling, decorated like a bright blue sky to suit Kim Yoon-hye’s taste, came into view.

“If it’s so annoying, just sign with The Bridge.”

“The mere mention of the word ‘contract’ makes me sick now.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You haven’t even seen your Summoner’s face properly. The Bridge is an agency that exclusively manages Contractors, so they handle all the annoying things you’re complaining about. Dealing with the media, trading mana with Energen… they’ve perfected it because all their Contractors are rich people like you who can’t be bothered with that stuff.”

“And then what? I have to go slurp some ramen on camera, say ‘Ahh, that’s refreshing!’ and film a commercial? Do fan signings? No thanks.”

“Then handle it yourself and get scammed.”

“Ah, I just want to live an easy life.”

Lee Doha replied indifferently, fiddling with his phone. After she finished cleaning up, Kim Yoon-hye glanced over and saw him browsing all sorts of sleek sports cars. He was still unhappy about becoming a Contractor, but that didn’t mean he’d refuse the money—a truly materialistic attitude. It seemed his plan was to spend his way out of his frustration.

Noticing her gaze, Lee Doha suddenly felt self-conscious. He sat up slowly and offered a lame excuse.

“…I’m thinking of buying one for my father.”

“I like this one.”

Kim Yoon-hye tapped the screen. It was a jet-black sports car that could go from zero to sixty in three or four seconds. Still sitting on the table, Lee Doha looked up at her blankly.

“What.”

“Don’t you make a lot of money? Like, a lot.”

“I’m still just a salaried employee.”

“Ms. Kim, you don’t even have your driver’s license yet.”

“I can get one since I’m eighteen. I just need to pass the test.”

“So, you, a person without a license, are going to take this car and tear up the roads? How many people are you planning to kill?”

“Then buy me a house.”

Her eyes blazed with desire. She was clearly not one to turn down either a house or a car. It looked like if he actually bought her one, she would happily accept it and pat her full stomach in satisfaction. But even if she was a genius who graduated from college at twelve and immediately got a job at IERA, was it right to buy a house for a minor? Buying her a car that went from zero to sixty in three seconds seemed even worse.

“…Ms. Kim. I know you live in the dorms. Let’s just be satisfied with a bicycle.”

“Pfft. A 25-pyeong apartment would be fine for me.”

“When was that phrase even popular?”

“They say trends always come back around.”

‘I’m done talking.’ Lee Doha hopped off the examination table.

“Let’s talk after I actually get rich.”

“I can’t give you a helicopter.”

“Then just lend me a bike.”

“You’re going to ride a bike all the way home? You’ll get there tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about? I have to go to school.”

Kim Yoon-hye, who had been following him with her hands in her lab coat pockets, burst out laughing at his words.

“Ah, Mr. Lee, you’re hilarious. You asked for a helicopter, and you were planning to ride it to school?”

“You want to retake my classes for me?”

“Just file for a work-related leave of absence.”

“Where am I even employed to file a work…,” Lee Doha grumbled, his eyes suddenly lighting up. A model student at heart, he wouldn’t miss a chance to officially skip class.

“IERA can issue proof of employment?”

“Of course. You got a job, didn’t you?”

Kim Yoon-hye grinned.

“As a pocket monster.”

“…”

As Lee Doha stood there, speechless and dumbfounded, Kim Yoon-hye held out the hand she’d had in her pocket. She opened her fist, revealing a small keychain. It was a tiny ball, half red and half white. Anyone who had watched a bit of anime in their youth would recognize it. The round object glinted in the light.

“A gift. Congratulations on the new job. May you become rich.”

Lee Doha pressed a hand to his forehead.

In any case, Lee Doha trusted her about the leave of absence and did, in fact, skip class. The joy of an unexpected day off, spent lazing on the sofa in the middle of a weekday afternoon, was so sweet that he began to think being a Contractor wasn’t so bad after all. Just as Kim Yoon-hye had mentioned, nearly five days had passed since the contract, but there was still no word from his Summoner. At first, he simply hummed a happy tune, but now, a flicker of worry mingled with curiosity began to stir.

‘Surely they didn’t die, right?’

Lying down, he stared at the TV and once again found himself habitually tracing the skin under his eye. It was his Contract Name. He’d considered covering it with something, but that seemed even more conspicuous, so he’d left it alone. Other people had theirs in reasonable places like their shoulder, arm, or the back of their hand. Why on earth was his in a place like this? Having skipped class, Lee Doha had no way of knowing.

“Son, if you have nothing to do, could you run over to your father’s office?”

His mother called out from the kitchen table, where she was engrossed in a mobile game. Lee Doha craned his neck to ask.

“Why?”

“He left his lunchbox.”

“Ah, are you still packing his lunch? The company cafeteria food is good these days, he should just eat there.”

“You little brat.”

Something flew through the air and hit him squarely on the forehead. Caught by the unexpected attack, Lee Doha clutched his head. It wasn’t hard, but it had a dull weight to it, feeling like he’d been struck by a glove. Looking down, he saw it was a tangerine.

“It’s good for your father to eat healthy food. Why are you telling him to eat out?”

“I was just thinking of you, Mom,” Lee Doha grumbled as he peeled and ate the tangerine. He wandered over to see what game she was playing so intently and saw a cookie with a determined expression running for its life. ‘That game is so old…’ He noticed that the tangerine basket on the table also had persimmons in it and wisely kept his mouth shut.

“If I wasn’t having fun playing this, you wouldn’t be getting home-cooked meals either, you punk.”

“Can’t he just eat out for today? If I go out, people will crowd around me again.”

“Son. Oop. That’s just you being self-conscious. People are usually too busy with their own lives to care about others.”

Meanwhile, the cookie, having missed a heart, collapsed and died in a flood of tears. “Aww,” his mother said, disappointedly putting her phone down. She turned to him with a bright smile.

“So, no more excuses. Get going now, my dear son. Lunchtime is over in thirty minutes.”

She then held out the glasses she had been wearing, implying he should use them as a disguise if he was so concerned. Like that certain hero who wore his underwear over his pants. Lee Doha stared blankly at the bifocal glasses he now held.

“…”

While it wasn’t entirely untrue that people were too busy to care about others, Lee Doha felt that people were far more curious about others’ business than one might think. So, braving his mother’s somewhat pitying gaze, he grabbed a hat and a mask before leaving the house. He couldn’t bring himself to wear the bifocal glasses.

The reporters who had been ringing his doorbell for interviews over the past few days were gone, so the walk to the bus stop was easy. Nothing happened on the bus, nor during the seven stops it took to get to his father’s company. At that point, Lee Doha started to feel a little embarrassed.

There were a few furtive glances, but they were more of the ‘why-is-that-person-wearing-a-hat-and-mask-on-a-warm-day’ variety. He should have listened to his mother; it would have saved him the trouble. Not wanting to walk into the company building like that, he sheepishly took off his hat.

After texting his father that he had arrived, Lee Doha waited in the lobby. The news was still full of articles about him, so he scrolled past them and browsed the entertainment section. ‘Oh Han-ul’s fan meeting sold out in 8 seconds… Is this person a Contractor or a celebrity?’ ‘Yoo Seo: “I really want to meet Insodouble.” Who’s that?’ ‘Shin Sena and Lucas, a budding romance.’ ‘Hong Yoo-joo shows off her toned body.’ ‘Why are all these articles so trashy?’ Frowning, Lee Doha looked up when he heard someone call out.

“…”

He thought it might be his father, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were people. All eyes were on him, mouths slightly agape, phones pointed in his direction. ‘Awesome.’ ‘Whoa.’ ‘I’ve never seen it in person.’ Murmurs like these filled the air. ‘Ah, I know this feeling.’ Gritting his teeth, Lee Doha forced a smile and glanced down at his feet. Sure enough, a blue summoning circle was spreading out beneath him.

It shimmered beautifully, as if drawn with a glitter pen. It was small and cute, practically advertising itself as an abbreviated summoning circle. Though not as massive or blindingly brilliant as the first time he was summoned, it was a summoning circle nonetheless.

Click, click—

The sound of camera shutters filled the air. Lee Doha silently pulled the hat in his hand back onto his head. In the next moment, his body dissipated into nothing. *Clatter—* The lunchbox and phone, left behind, fell to the lobby floor with a loud crash.