UR Chapter 22

Chapter 22

For a brief moment, a man I-bom had seen at the convenience store came to mind. The same man the winds had earlier called him “baby student” over.

He hadn’t gotten a proper look at his face because of the sunglasses, but he couldn’t stop replaying the moment—the man who had handed him an energy drink. If someone asked about his ideal type, it’d be someone like that. Tall, kind, neat smile…

“Um… someone who’s kind and takes good care of me.”

「So that’s all it takes? Even if they’re ugly? Even if they’re some scruffy old guy with a full beard?」

Seopung seemed the persistent type. For a so-called “survey,” it was starting to feel a lot more like a process of elimination. What was this, a matchmaking agency? I-bom was left speechless.

「Hey, we need to go. He’s gonna wake up.」

「Okay, but what if I set you up on a blind date with someone ugly and older, but kind and caring? Would you go?」

“Huh? No, that’s not…,”

I-bom trailed off, trying to cut through the barrage of questions with a vague answer.

Even an actual matchmaking agency wouldn’t make someone fill out this much detail up front, would they?

「What about someone with a potbelly? Or bald? Does gender matter to you? What about age gaps—what’s your limit there?」

“Um. I don’t know why you’re asking all this, but… I do prefer good-looking people.”

Clenching his fists, I-bom replied cautiously.

Under Seopung’s relentless questioning, he had no choice but to admit the truth.

「Alright, so your ideal type is someone good-looking, kind, and attentive. No experience with relationships, marriage, or kids. And you don’t have a specific preference for how you meet them. Correct?」

The image of a certain someone floated clearly in I-bom’s head, but since it was supposedly just a “survey,” he gave a reluctant nod.

「Baby student, we really must go now. Apologies for disturbing your rest.」

「Ah—wait! One last thing!」

Seopung called out urgently.

「Make it fast. I said it’s time to go.」

「What would your ideal first date look like? Is there a place you’ve always wanted to go, or a restaurant you’ve been dying to try?」

I-bom paused, thinking it over. For something happening in a dream, the question hit a little too close to real-life desires. He’d never been on a date, so he didn’t know what he liked—but there was one place he’d always wanted to try: a hotel buffet.

He vaguely remembered hearing that the food there was stacked high on giant plates and you could eat all you wanted without worrying about what others thought.

“Um, a hotel buffet, I’d like to—”

「HEY! Seopung!」

「Oh! Hotel buffet? Got it! Okay, that’s all from us! Sorry for bothering you!」

There was a crashing sound—like someone tumbling over themselves—and then Bukpung politely offered his farewell.

And just like that, the voices vanished.

…Poof.

“Oppa.”

A familiar voice sounded in I-bom’s ear as something gently shook his shoulder.

“…Oppa?”

Right in front of him was I-seol, blinking her round eyes and staring at him from up close. His vision was still blurry, like he hadn’t fully escaped the dream.

“Oppa, wake up.”

But the clarity of her voice as she shook him made it clear—this wasn’t a dream anymore. It was real. Even if it was still dark, long before sunrise.

“Ah…!”

I-bom gasped and shot up from his spot, instinctively kicking off the blanket with a startled yell.

“Oppa, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

The thick comforter had already gone flying from I-bom’s wild kick. As he panted for breath, the cold air rushed sharply into his lungs. With the blanket gone, the chill immediately hit his back and neck, making his skin crawl with goosebumps. He shivered hard, and only then realized his back, thighs, even the inside of his forehead—were all drenched in sweat.

Catching his breath, I-bom raised the back of his hand and wiped his forehead. The lukewarm sweat dampened his skin. It wasn’t a nightmare—more like a bizarre and entertaining dream—but he’d woken up soaked, like he’d been through something terrifying.

“Huh? Uh…”

I-bom gave a weak laugh, wiping the line of sweat trailing down from his temple. Maybe it was just how vivid the dream had been, but his body felt sore all over, like something had pressed down on him the whole time.

“No, it wasn’t scary… it just felt too real, I guess…”

“Really? I’m hungry. Feed me.”

I-seol giggled and flopped down right on the bed. The sweat-soaked sheets must have felt gross, but she didn’t seem to care at all. I-bom stared at her blankly and reached over to grab the blanket he’d kicked away. He’d have to wash it later—he’d sweat too much.

“Oppa, you’re all sweaty. Get out of the blanket.”

Tugging on the damp pajama shirt clinging to his skin, I-bom spoke to I-seol. The air was cold, and after sweating that much, he couldn’t just sit around like this. It wasn’t just the discomfort—if he didn’t get changed soon, he might catch a cold. And I-bom couldn’t afford to get sick. He was the head of the household now, the one responsible for his whole family.

As he rolled his shoulders and pushed up his pajama sleeves, he looked around.

The house was at least forty years old, and just like the rest of it, the boiler was ancient. Every time it ran, it rattled loudly, and heating up water took forever. I-bom opened the boiler room door and turned the dial to “Hot Water.” It would be at least ten minutes before anything warm came out.

“I’m hungry.”

Seeing him fiddle with the water settings, I-seol whined.

What got into her? She usually wouldn’t get up until the sun was way high in the sky, but now she was up at dawn, begging for food.

Maybe it’s a growth spurt.

Thinking nothing more of it, I-bom picked up the pace.

“Okay, okay. I’ll feed you—just hang on.”

With a sigh, I-bom moved quickly. He opened the kitchen cabinet to get a pot for rice and pulled out the sack of rice. Once the rice was on the stove, all that was left was to grab some eggs and bean sprouts from the fridge to make soup—and breakfast would be ready.

While regular beastmen could supposedly survive just fine eating nothing but dog kibble, half-beastmen like I-bom required a proper, balanced diet—carbs, protein, fat, the whole thing. If they got lazy and tried to live off pet food, they’d almost definitely end up with stomach issues or malnutrition. That’s why, not too long ago, a veterinarian had come to the Aji Village community center to give a seminar on “Balanced Slow-Aging Diets for Young Dogs.”

I-bom and I-seol had gotten sick more than once from mixing cheap kibble with water because they couldn’t afford better.

Thankfully, the public health center handed out small portions of rice and side ingredients to the village’s low-income residents every month. It wasn’t enough to buy meat, but they could at least get grains and some basic protein now and then.

‘Ah, right.’

As I-bom pulled a carton of fresh eggs from the fridge, the condensation still beading on the shells, he suddenly remembered the cat they’d fallen asleep with last night. It was quiet now, so maybe he was still sleeping—but what if he wasn’t? What was he doing?

There was already so much to do this morning.

“I-seol, can you check if the cat’s awake?”

I-bom raised his voice while untying the knot on the rice sack. It was still dark outside—it wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet. Not surprising, but he worried that if they made too much noise, the cat wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully.

“Okay!”

I-seol stopped rummaging through her drawer and quickly replied. A moment later, the thunder of her footsteps echoed through the house. Then, beyond the noisy footsteps, her loud voice rang out.

“Oppa! The cat’s awake too!”

“Meowrk.”

Even before I-seol’s shout fully ended, the disheveled-looking cat let out a drawn-out, elegant sound as he came padding over to I-bom. With a long shadow trailing behind him and thick, heavy paws landing with soft thuds, he approached with slow, deliberate steps.

The sky was still dark, and under the dim light, his orange fur and bold stripes appeared strangely subdued. His expression—mild and faintly smiling—looked just like one of those “refined cats” from a picture book. But the size of him, and that thick tail, felt decidedly un-catlike.

Maybe it was the timing—the darkest hour just before dawn—but…

The bold stripes in front of him looked strikingly similar to the tigers he’d seen in old fairy tale books.

Strange.

I-bom tilted his head.