Chapter 6: Elf

On the way home after finishing the magic demonstration.

Of course, it’s the rental apartment I received this time.

I considered living at my parents’ house altogether, but isn’t it a bit much to live off your parents when you’re not thirty, but over three hundred years old?

Even before reincarnating, I lived independently, so this felt more comfortable.

Of course, I plan to visit my parents’ house often.

“We’ve arrived, Ms. Fride.”

“Ah, right. Thanks for the ride today.”

“It’s my job.”

Then Jeonghun put his number in my phone, telling me to contact him anytime if problems arise or I need anything.

“Well then, I’ll head inside.”

“You worked hard today~”

After a cheerful farewell, I enter the house.

The exterior wasn’t particularly new, but it wasn’t old or flawed either.

It was a common corridor-style apartment.

Rather familiar and nice.

I open the door with the key I received.

A house ready to welcome its new owner.

Basic appliances like a refrigerator and TV are provided.

There’s also a sofa; it’s just the right size for living alone.

I toss the bag I had left in Jeonghun’s car—the company car—and throw off my coat.

Then I immediately throw myself onto the sofa.

I pick up the remote and turn on the TV.

-“The city that appeared in the Central African Republic…”

-“The US government regarding Beastkin immigrants on the Mexican border…”

-“A vehicle exploding on the Seoul–Pyongyang Expressway…”

Between the ordinary and the extraordinary.

I have returned to my homeland.

My own state is a mess, but my homeland’s state is also a mess.

I change the channel, dizzy from just hearing the news.

-“Infinite~~~”

Right, much better.

Now it finally feels like I’ve returned to daily life.

Even though my body and mind have changed.

The time is now 12 AM.

The perfect time for a late-night snack and a can of beer.

I casually throw on the hoodie over the pants I received from the registration center.

I look exactly like a bum.

I didn’t put the hood up because it was uncomfortable for my ears.

I had already ordered a chicken using a delivery app, and I turned on the map app to find a nearby convenience store.

Fortunately, there’s one right in front.

I step outside.

The chilly weather and the unique smell of late night.

The sound of the wind hits my ears.

It’s a bit cold…

I should buy some clothes tomorrow.

The only clothes I have right now are the uniform I was wearing when I arrived and the clothes I’m wearing now.

-Tinkle.

“Welcome…”

A convenience store part-timer looking half-dead.

‘Could there be a necromancer here?’

‘No matter how I looked, that wasn’t the face of a living person.’

Of course not.

Just Modern Person 1, exhausted from fatigue.

And I was Elf 1, who came from another world.

There was a brief look of surprise and a glance at my ears, but only for a moment.

Elves appeared on TV often enough.

It felt like seeing a foreigner in a neighborhood with few foreigners.

That was about it.

I grabbed four cans of beer for ten thousand won and bought a few bags of snacks.

Then, out of habit, I asked for the cigarettes I used to smoke at the counter.

“ID please.”

‘I don’t have an ID.’

‘Should I show my Dimensional Transit Resident ID card?’

I took the registration card out of my pocket and showed it.

“Okay, have a good night.”

-Tinkle!

Fortunately, the Dimensional Transit Resident ID card seems to function as identification.

Before I died, meaning before I was reborn as an elf, I used to smoke.

And after being born as an elf, I had quit.

When the tide of war turned, and the Allied forces advanced into Albheim.

A situation hard to endure sober.

Reports announcing allied defeats poured in, and the number of casualties soared as if piercing the sky.

It really… was hard to endure sober.

So, I started smoking again.

You might think it’s ridiculous for an elf to burn and smoke plants.

The elves where I came from were omnivores.

Like humans.

We ate meat, drank alcohol, and smoked cigarettes.

Towards the end of the war, the High Command conference room, always clean and fragrant, became a stuffy den filled with cigarette smoke.

Watching non-smokers become smokers one by one was quite a spectacle.

Lengthening dark circles were a bonus.

‘Perhaps even Hitler, a non-smoker, might have smoked when the Soviet army reached his doorstep.’

With such idle thoughts, I put a cigarette in my mouth and light it.

“Khek!! Kugh.. Eugh…”

S***.

What is this?

My lungs vehemently rejected the cigarette smoke as if they were brand new.

What the hell.

[Child, why not take this chance to quit?]

Excuse me?

[In the process of you coming here, your physical body was essentially newly created.]

[The soul reconstructed the body it remembered.]

My lungs really were brand new.

No wonder my skin felt a bit better.

“Sigh… Alright. I’ll quit…”

[A wise decision.]

I can almost hear the World Tree’s bright smiling voice from here.

‘I do need to quit.’

‘Why smoke such poison?’

‘Of course, only after finishing the ones I already bought.’

[No. Ah.]

Hmph.

“Hooo… Cough…”

The sizzling sound of the cigarette burning.

The dark street.

Flickering streetlights.

Illegally parked cars.

Chilly weather.

Some might call it depressing and gloomy beyond compare.

But I like it.

This atmosphere. This feeling.

On the way home, a notification sounds from my phone.

A message saying the delivery is complete.

Perfect timing.

I enter the house and open the chicken bag.

Crack open a beer.

Tear into the chicken and drink the beer.

The sound from the TV, the crunching sounds, the gulping sounds fill the silence.

Since my liver is also brand new, the alcohol hits quickly.

Slightly dizzy yet pleasant, a moderate buzz.

And on the table lies an imaginary combat result report.

Reports from the Western Front, Eastern Front, Southern Front all point in one direction.

Severe allied casualties, shortages of ammunition, shells, and other military supplies, my homeland Albheim heading towards ruin.

At that moment, someone bursts in, hair completely disheveled.

“The World Tree…! The World Tree…”

‘The World Tree what?’

“They say it burned…”

Silence falls.

Everyone in the conference room is speechless.

Someone faint-hearted foams at the mouth and collapses.

Someone angry denies it, calling it nonsense.

I walk out of the bunker.

The giant tree, 300 meters tall, the World Tree, is burning.

Magic no longer works.

The World Tree’s voice cannot be heard.

-Bang—!

A sound echoes from within the bunker.

It was the sound of Albheim’s head of state, the Grand Hierarch, putting a hole in his own head.

‘Idiotic fool.’

“We must stop the war.”

“Continuing to resist here will only increase the death toll.”

“Nonsense!”

“Do you wish for the extinction of the Elves!”

“General Yakovlena!”

“We can no longer wage war.”

“I agree with that statement.”

“We have no remaining ammunition, shells, or troops.”

“You’re all mad.”

“You’re the mad one, General.”

“If not resistance, then only death awaits.”

“Better to die fighting than beg for mercy from those Allied bastards.”

“Let’s elect Internal Affairs Minister Ahila as temporary Grand Hierarch and contact the Allied command.”

Most agree.

Except me.

‘Foolish idiots.’

‘Do they think the Allied forces will spare them?’

‘I learned similar history in my past life.’

‘And they were all hanged by ropes.’

“The Allied forces will hang every single one of you.”

-Ding.

‘Which idiot didn’t turn off their phone…’

Ah, phones haven’t come out yet.

At that moment, everyone in the conference room stares at me.

“Huok!!”

Three empty beer cans.

And one half-drunk can.

The quiet sound of the TV.

What an unpleasant dream.

The notification that chimed on my phone, was a request to review the chicken I just ordered.

It’s peaceful.

There is no war here.

Of course, war might be happening somewhere.

But not here where I am.

No hail of bullets, no shells tearing through the sky, no agonized screams of the dying, no daily reports listing casualty numbers, no operational maps.

Instead, there is peace, safety, stability.

…Let’s just sleep.

My head feels like it’s splitting from a hangover I haven’t felt in a long time.

What does a person need to live?

Clothes, shelter, food.

The so-called basic necessities.

And for a modern person, a car is needed.

Without a car, one is stuck relying on buses, subways, or walking.

And all these things require money.

To put it grandly, I need to earn money.

Meaning I need to get a job.

What kind of job would hire a 300-year-old elf?

Should I do manual labor at demolition sites using magic?

The thought of me wearing a hard hat and fluorescent vest while chanting magic incantations was somewhat amusing.

Alternatively, becoming a Hero… no, a member of the Local Ability Self-Defense Corps, as Officer Park Jeonghun mentioned, doesn’t seem too bad.

Since I used to kill people before, doing work that saves people this time sounds alright.

I turn on my phone and search for information about the Local Ability Self-Defense Corps.

The conditions are: no criminal record, sound personality, and being a registered Ability User.

‘Could I be disqualified from the first condition?’

‘The second condition… hmm, my personality should be fine.’

‘Probably.’

I did register as an Ability User, but my rank hasn’t been determined yet.

I considered calling Park Jeonghun to ask, but messaged him instead, wondering if he might be working.

A reply came back quickly.

I received Grade 1.

And I need to pick up the registration card, so he suggests we go together at a convenient time.

Since I was basically a time-billionaire bum with nothing but time, we decided to meet around lunchtime.

For breakfast, I’ll cure my hangover with the ramyeon I bought yesterday.

Lunch, I should get Park Jeonghun to treat me.

I am a thrifty elf.

Kiosk. Self-order machine.

Honestly, I’m not used to kiosks.

Before I died here, kiosks weren’t that widespread.

But now, even neighborhood corner stores use kiosks.

While I spent 300 years there, 10 years passed here.

The world has changed.

I fumbled with the kiosk order like an old person unable to adapt to new technology.

‘Is 300 years old considered elderly?’

“Ms. Fride, I can do it for you.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

‘No matter how you look at it, isn’t this reaction like a grandchild dealing with their grandmother?’

“Press payment there…”

“I know that.”

Ah, why isn’t this working?

“I’ll just order for you.”

“Didn’t I say I’ll do it!”

Park Jeonghun looks at me as if dealing with a stubborn old person.

What.

After much bickering, the order was finally completed.

Park Jeonghun and I came to a famous franchise hamburger joint.

Taking the paper with the number printed from the kiosk, I sat down.

Soon, the food we ordered arrived.

The taste of capitalism.

Of course, it’s not cold.

It’s delicious.