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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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My purpose in life ended that day.
Around the time I started elementary school, the alien invasion began, and the Earth Defense Alliance, determined to create superhumans, conducted genetic testing on the entire global population.
They offered a substantial sum of money to parents with suitable genes, in exchange for allowing their children to undergo the superhuman conversion process. The Alliance imposed a strict gag order on the parents, and to this day, the details of that agreement remain confidential.
While there might be reasons I’m unaware of, I can confirm that my parents’ genes were deemed suitable, and the criteria at the time were children under 10, before the onset of puberty.
My family had been struggling with debt since I was young, and my parents agreed to the procedure to pay it off. They paid off all their debts, and I believed we would finally be happy, but shortly after, my parents died in a car accident.
My brother, 10 years older than me, was in high school at the time, too old to qualify for the program, and he’d just become an adult when our parents died. He worked tirelessly to support me, and his business eventually became successful, so I never lacked anything growing up.
But I always felt like something was missing. Becoming a superhuman had made me feel like a tool, a means for my parents to pay off their debts, and I hadn’t thought much about my purpose in life since the changes began manifesting.
Then I came to a conclusion: I’d been used as a means to an end, and my worth as a person had ended that day.
My brother was always busy with work, and I spent most of my time alone.
I’d come home from school and do the housework. That became my new purpose: supporting my busy brother by taking care of the household chores. That was my entire existence.
No one complained as long as I did my chores without complaint and with a smile. Not at school, not at home.
It wasn’t a forced smile or a pretense.
I didn’t feel anger, no matter what happened, and I’d learned that smiling made difficult situations a little easier, so I smiled.
“This is my younger sister. Say hello.”
“Hello.”
One day, my brother brought a woman home. He introduced her as his girlfriend, someone he’d met through a mutual acquaintance. She was only a few years older than my brother. I smiled and greeted her, as always.
In the autumn of my first year of high school, my brother and his girlfriend got married, and she became my sister-in-law. The following year, their first child was born, and I became responsible for childcare after school.
I felt… useful. While I didn’t feel any particular emotion about going from a housekeeper to a caregiver, I was needed, and that was important for someone like me, who’d been living without purpose.
My sister-in-law, who’d initially helped with the childcare, started working with my brother, leaving me solely responsible for the baby. I hadn’t thought it would be difficult to take care of one child, but the following year, she became pregnant again.
In the summer of my third year of high school, I dropped out.
My sister-in-law had suggested it. Or rather, it had been more of a directive.
I’d received an offer to become an active superhuman, and she’d suggested it would be more practical for me to earn money as a superhuman and take care of the children instead of going to school.
I hadn’t hesitated. I didn’t see the point of school and felt it was a waste of time, so I submitted my withdrawal request the next day.
The school tried to dissuade me, seeing me drop out right before summer break, but taking care of my family was more important to me than attending school.
When I told my brother, he yelled at me for the first time. I didn’t understand why he was so angry. I didn’t see the point of school; I was a superhuman, a housekeeper, nothing more, so what was wrong with prioritizing my family?
“I’m okay.”
I smiled at him reassuringly. While his anger was frightening, I believed everything would be fine as long as I was a good, obedient girl and did my chores. But after that, he rarely spoke to me.
Years passed, and I was now taking care of three children. It wasn’t easy. There were many difficult moments, but taking care of them was my reason for being in this family, and seeing them grow day by day brought me a sense of fulfillment, making me forget the hardships.
My sister-in-law had stopped helping with childcare after the second child was born, and even now, with the third child growing up, I was the sole caregiver.
One day, watching a cooking show on TV, I thought it looked fun. There wasn’t any particular reason. The chefs just looked happy, and I felt a spark of interest and curiosity.
But I couldn’t pursue it.
I didn’t have much money, and no matter how frugal I was, I barely had any savings. But for the first time, I had a goal. I wanted to buy a cookbook.
The first cookbook I bought from the bookstore was filled with fascinating information. I looked at the pictures of beautifully plated dishes, feeling a sense of wonder and a desire to try them myself, but I couldn’t. Being a good cook wasn’t my role.
Even as a Hunter Killer, I didn’t feel like I was making a difference.
I’d participate in duels, come home, take care of the children, and contribute my salary to the household.
The repetitive routine made me stop thinking. I just existed, fulfilling my role.
But seeing my teammates laughing and talking, I felt a growing emptiness inside me. When was the last time I’d genuinely smiled?
Were my smiles while taking care of the children real?
Did I ever have a purpose?
“What do you want to do, Ha-yeong?”
His question, the first time I’d heard it, hadn’t resonated.
What did I want to do?
Was taking care of the children and doing the housework all I was meant for?
I’d ask my brother for money when I ran out, and my sister-in-law would always berate me. I’d also be scolded when the neighbors complained about the noise, but it didn’t bother me.
Or did it? Had I just been suppressing my feelings?
It didn’t matter. Enduring those situations was my role, my purpose, I’d thought.
But what did I want to do?
His question, echoing in my mind, amplified the emptiness inside me, a growing ache in my chest.
I felt hurt by her harsh words and uncomfortable whenever the neighbors complained.
While a part of me ached, I still couldn’t answer his question.
…The day of the trip. I still hadn’t found an answer.
“Aunt, aren’t we going on the trip?”
My youngest nephew, Ho-yeong’s question made me decide to go.
It wasn’t about my own unresolved feelings; the children hadn’t done anything wrong, so why should they suffer?
…And I… I hadn’t done anything wrong either, so why did I have to endure all this?
My initial decision to go for the children’s sake shifted into a desire to go for myself.
I wanted to have fun. I wanted to enjoy myself with my teammates, I wanted to cook to my heart’s content.
His question, “What do you want to do?”
‘I want to do what I want.’
That was my answer.
So, I went on the trip, and he’d said the food I cooked was delicious.
I realized it felt good to bring joy to others, even just for a moment. Perhaps the reason I hadn’t felt burdened by childcare was because I knew, even in a small way, that I was making the children happy.
On the walking trail, he’d asked me again, “What do you want to do?”
But this time, it wasn’t a difficult question. This short trip, this single day, had given me the answer.
“I’m leaving.”
There would be challenges ahead, even more than what I’d endured so far, but I was okay with that.
I’d spent 28 years being a good girl, fulfilling my role, living for others.
It wasn’t too late to start living for myself, was it?
I wondered if my worth as a person would diminish, if I’d become useless, but it didn’t matter.
I returned from the trip and decided to leave.
My sister-in-law, who’d delegated all the childcare responsibilities to me, was now in charge, and I, with A’s help, found a new place to live.
He’d helped me so much. Why? Did I deserve it? Did he have some ulterior motive? Was I just a means to an end for him, too?
“Why are you going so far to help me?”
“Because I don’t like seeing you suffer.”
He answered without hesitation to my anxious question.
Had I been suffering?
I had been suffering.
I didn’t know how to ask for help and had believed my worth depended on my ability to shoulder all the burdens myself. I realized, for the first time, that it was causing me pain.
He’d said he didn’t like seeing me suffer. Why?
Was there even a reason? If he was helping me unconditionally, if he wanted me to be happy, maybe it was okay for me to ask for help, too.
Just this once, could I be a little selfish?
“I’m looking for an apartment. Could you help me?”
“Yes, I’ll help as much as I can.”
While I’d already asked for and received his help with the apartment hunting, my mindset was different now. I wanted to be a little selfish.
At the furniture store, the sales associate mistook us for a newlywed couple. While I knew I should correct him, I didn’t want to embarrass him, and I thought A wouldn’t mind, so I took a gamble.
“Honey, come take a look!”
“Uh, okay.”
It was embarrassing. My attempt to spare the sales associate the awkwardness of realizing his mistake had created an awkward situation for A and me. I felt bad for him.
He was already being inconvenienced by helping me, and now he was playing along with my charade.
But as we went around the store, pretending to be a couple, I started enjoying it. It felt like we were really choosing furniture for our home, and I wished it were true.
I disliked my sister-in-law. I couldn’t possibly have positive feelings for someone who didn’t even know her own children and treated me so poorly.
But thinking about how happy my brother had been when they first met, I realized that while marriage probably had its challenges, it must also bring joy, which was why people chose to get married.
If I had a family with him, would I also experience those moments of happiness?
I knew it was wishful thinking. So, I decided to enjoy this moment, this pretense, and then find my own happiness.
Moving day arrived.
The movers transported my few belongings, and I said goodbye to the children before leaving.
“Aunt, are you really leaving?”
“Yes. You’ll be okay without me, right?”
Even the usually boisterous first and second nephews seemed subdued, perhaps saddened by my departure.
“Yes.”
“I’ll visit whenever I can.”
“Aunt.”
Ho-yeong’s voice made me turn around. He was usually quiet and reserved. Had he also enjoyed our time together?
“Take care.”
“You too, Ho-yeong.”
I said goodbye to the children and looked at my brother, who’d taken the day off.
“Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay, don’t worry too much.”
I was about to leave when I saw my sister-in-law sitting on the living room sofa. While I disliked her, I still had to say goodbye, so I approached her.
The air between us was heavy. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Here.”
I handed her a notebook.
“I wrote down what the children like and dislike.”
I didn’t use formal language and just conveyed my message, then turned to leave. I didn’t know if she’d actually take care of them, but I hoped this notebook, which I’d carefully compiled, would be helpful.
I said my final goodbyes at the door and took the elevator down.
I felt a pang of sadness, leaving the children I’d spent 10 years with, but I knew this was the right decision for me and wouldn’t regret it.
As I stepped out of the elevator, my eyes met A’s, waiting at the entrance, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
“Did you say goodbye?”
“Yes.”
This was the day I’d chosen to start living for myself.
There would be more difficult times than happy times, but the happy moments would be more meaningful. I didn’t know if we’d still be together then, given our circumstances, but I hoped we would be.
It was moving day.
A, ever helpful, had come to help me move early in the morning, and we took a taxi to my new apartment.
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