Chapter 2: From the victim’s perspective(2)

“Hey, you there, miss. Are you a User?”

“With those big horns on her head, do you think she’s human? She’s a User.”

Soon, people began pointing fingers at me.

“I’ve never seen that kind of race before, what is that?”

“With horns like that, isn’t she a demon?”

“A demon? Aren’t they the kind of Users who should disappear first?”

A man wearing a cross around his neck, looking every bit the devout believer, stood up. He rolled up his sleeves and approached me. I tried to

ignore whatever nonsense he was spouting. But I couldn’t ignore the large Christian man getting closer and closer.

“Why, why are you doing this?”

Instead of answering, he pressed the bus stop request button.

“Get off at the next stop. Unless you want to see something you won’t like.”

“Why should I? I’m just—”

I opened my mouth to argue against his commanding tone, but—

Slap-

My head snapped to the right.

For a moment, I couldn’t process what had happened. I tasted a metallic tang of blood in my mouth, and a stinging pain began to rise from

one cheek. Only then did I realize I had been slapped.

“My son got obsessed with some User. I heard they’re called demons? It’s because you girls are wandering around in broad daylight like this!

If you’re a demon, act like one and crawl out at night. Got it?”

“I…I’m sorry.”

Faced with the stinging gazes of the people and the middle-aged man’s hand raised high, as if this might not be the end of it, I meekly

lowered my tail. I wanted to retort coolly, ‘I’m not a demon, I’m Dragonkin,’ but my mouth, having experienced violence, wouldn’t move as I

wished.

[The next stop is, ᄆᄆApartment Main Gate.]

As expected, since the stop request button had been pressed, the bus stopped at the very next stop. Under the silent pressure from the

passengers to get off quickly, I eventually got off the bus on my own. As soon as I got off, the atmosphere inside the bus changed back to its

lively chatter. Judging from the faint sounds, the topic of conversation was denouncing me and Users in general.

As if nothing had happened, the bus closed its doors and drove away with a rough engine sound.

As soon as the bus disappeared from sight, my legs gave way and I collapsed.

I felt wronged and resentful about my situation. My slapped cheek hurt, but my own weakness in not being able to properly resist them hurt

and grieved me even more.

‘I’m not a demon… I’m Dragonkin. Even if I were a demon, there’s no reason for me to be treated like this by strangers.’

‘I wanted to say it confidently…’

“Ugh…”

The tears I had been holding back, thanks to my petty pride that I didn’t want to show tears in front of those people, finally burst out.

It was even more upsetting that I was stifling my sobs, afraid someone would hear me and look this way.

‘I didn’t want to go out because I thought something like this might happen.’

A few minutes later, after composing myself, I turned on my phone. When I turned on the camera’s selfie mode, my messed-up face was

reflected on the screen. The mask strap was broken, and the hoodie was stretched out… In any case, I was a mess.

“Haha…”

Ironically, thanks to my completely ruined appearance, I laughed. It wasn’t exactly a joyful laugh, but a bitter one, but it made me feel a little

better.

‘…It’s still a gutter even if it’s a little better than a sewer, but I have to think a little more positively. There’s also the saying of some celebrity

that you’re not happy because you laugh, but you’re happy because you laugh.’

After fixing the hair stuck to my tears and hiding the horns back inside the hood, I checked the bus route.

“…It’s far.”

More than ten stops remained until City Hall, my destination. It was an impossible distance to walk. I had no choice but to wait for the next

bus.

Fortunately, no one was on the next bus. With a slightly lighter heart, I leaned back in the bus seat. It was a short ride to City Hall.

The massive City Hall building. In the past, it was a place I rarely had to visit, but it was different now that I had become a User. Whenever I

tried to do something, I had to come here and get permission. Now that I saw the building I used to pass by without a second glance, it looked

like a huge fortress. From now on, I had to go inside, find the civil servant in charge of User welfare, face that person, convey my business,

and complete the paperwork.

For me, who hadn’t had a proper conversation with people for well over a month, it was a mission that was too difficult.

All I had done in the past month was greet convenience store clerks or get into one-sided arguments, repeatedly saying, “I’m sorry.”

I was even forgetting how to speak at length, so I was worried about whether I could speak properly in front of the City Hall staff.

With all these concerns, I hesitated in front of the building for a long time, then realized that it was more conspicuous to be wavering in front

of the transparent door like this.

If a suspicious person wearing a hoodie, a long padding, and a mask was doing that, I would look at them too.

In the end, realizing that I couldn’t delay any longer, I shut my mouth and stepped into the automatic door. The warm air heated by the

heater melted my cold skin.

Feeling a slight relief, I looked around.

[Users, please use this window.]

Finding the civil servant in charge of Users, which I had expected to be the first hurdle, was easier than I thought. The city hall had created a

window exclusively for Users. I happily moved towards the sign.

‘Is it inside this door?’

A very sturdy-looking iron door had a sign that read [User Exclusive Window]. I wondered if this was the right place and opened it. There

was a civil servant inside.

The problem was that the wall separating the room and the space where the civil servant was located was not ordinary glass, but iron bars. It

looked more like a prison than a window for receiving complaints from citizens. No, it felt more like an interrogation room than a prison.

“Are you a User? Come in.”

“Ah, yes.”

As instructed by the kind voice, I entered the room, and the iron door slammed shut. It didn’t seem to be soundproof, and I thought it would

have attracted a lot of attention from people outside.

“Were you surprised by the room structure?”

“Uh… a little.”

“Recently, a User who transformed into a Minotaur came to us, and when he heard that the deadline for receiving support funds had passed

and they couldn’t be reissued, he caused a fuss. The person originally in charge of this position was unilaterally beaten by that giant’s fist and

received a 10-week diagnosis. He was a very kind person… That’s why we have these iron bars now.”

“…I see.”

I lowered my head and replied. Why are you telling me such an unpleasant story? The civil servant’s voice, which had sounded so kind, didn’t

sound that way anymore.

-Does this person also see Users in a bad light, like the people who fill the news comment section?

-Or does she not like my appearance?

-Maybe she’s close to a coworker who was harmed by a User?

-But I’m not that Minotaur User. Does she see all Users the same?

-Isn’t it bad to have such prejudices in the first place? Why should I care?

-No, I have to apologize because it happened because of a User like me.

-Is that the right thing to do logically? What if she’s uncomfortable with a sudden apology?

The tension that had been slightly relieved by the warm heater air was revived. I was conscious of the fact that the person in front of me was

looking at me, and my mouth didn’t open easily as if it were frozen. Perhaps because of the aftereffects of not having conversations and being

isolated from society for a long time, I couldn’t even grasp what kind of answer would be polite. I was afraid of making a mistake.

“I’m, I’m sorry…”

“Let’s stop with the small talk. So, what brings you here?”

At her question, I had to struggle to explain, with my voice even dropping, some simple words that I suddenly couldn’t remember because of

the tension. She listened to me carefully and summarized my long rambling in one sentence.

“So… you’re here to apply for an extension of your User living allowance?”

“Yes! That’s it… I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of the word ‘living allowance’…”

“It’s okay. So, you don’t have any particular source of income or job?”

“Well, I only have a few sources of income from side jobs, and no relatives to rely on…”

To be exact, it’s not that I don’t have relatives, but that I was unilaterally cut off from them. Thanks to them not recognizing the changed me

as their own child, I am currently in a state of being no different from an un claimed person with no parents or other relatives registered.

“Please fill out this form. If you submit it, the relevant department will judge and decide whether to pay the support funds. You’ll also get a

call on your phone.”

The female employee handed me the file and turned her gaze to her computer, as if telling me to leave if I was done. I left the prison-like

room with weak steps and took a seat at a nearby desk. I felt curious gazes from the people around me coming from the [User Exclusive

Window], but no one was picking a fight.

The hand that was writing down the name, resident registration number, birthday, etc., paused for a moment at the gender column. But only

for a moment, I corrected my trembling hand and finished filling out the form.

There were many people on the bus I took on the way back. I was very nervous since I had a bad experience a few hours ago, but nothing

special happened. Rather, the attention focused on me was dispersed because there were many people.

Above all, thanks to the two men in black clothes standing in front of my seat blocking the gazes of other people, I was able to go more

comfortably until the bus arrived at its destination.

Having arrived at the bus stop in front of my house without any particular incident, I walked down the street, enjoying the sunset spread out

in the sky between the apartments in the distance.

“…Hoo, that was tough.”

It was an eventful day. I was unfairly slapped, but it was nothing compared to what I had experienced in the past. As they say, if you keep

getting hurt by similar things, you become desensitized. Now I was confident that no matter what anyone picked a fight with me about, I

wouldn’t be hurt, as long as I didn’t get hit.

‘Come to think of it, is this the first time I’ve actually been hit since then?’

When I was a man, I had fought with friends and gotten hurt while exercising, so I was used to pain. But after becoming this body, tears

would come out as soon as it hurt, and I kept showing a weak side.

‘…Dragonkin are said to have all five senses slightly better than humans, right?’

Perhaps the sense of touch, which is included in the five senses, is also more sensitive, so the pain feels more painful.

Well, I’ll try to avoid getting hit as much as possible in the future… but I can’t control everything in the world. Who knows if there will be

someone like that old man who picks a fight unilaterally and raises his hand first if he doesn’t like something.

Whenever I get caught up in a strange fight and cry, it wouldn’t hurt to have at least one basis for self-justification, saying, ‘I’m not a crybaby,

it’s just that my sense of pain is sensitive.’

With the hypothesis that Dragonkin have a more sensitive sense of pain imprinted in the corner of my mind, I entered the familiar dark alley.