My Childhood Friend’s Stock Will Never Fail Chapter 29

Yoohee muttered quietly, and Spicy Churu expressed its disappointment.

 

[Constellation, ‘Spicy Churu,’ says that’s quite a shame.]

[Constellation, ‘Spicy Churu,’ says they hope that next time you’ll xx, then xx, followed by an even more explosive xx development.]

 

Yoohee covered her ears.

 

Let’s not forget that there wasn’t a single normal Constellation among them.

 

[We sincerely apologize, dear Constellations! We’ve fixed the system error, so there shouldn’t be any more issues with the broadcast! As for compensation…]

 

The status window paused for a moment.

 

Sensing that it was trying to pull something sneaky, the Constellations erupted in protest.

 

[Constellation, ‘Dark Magician,’ says their body has been feeling rather stiff lately and applies some pressure.]

 

[Constellation, ’21st Descendant of the Namgung Clan,’ narrows their eyes and asks, “Do you even know who our family’s twelfth-generation ancestor is?”]

 

And several others. Even Constellations Yoohee had never seen before chimed in one after another, forcing the status window to hurriedly announce the compensation.

 

[P-Please calm down, everyone! Then we’ll compensate all currently connected Constellations with Constellation Coins! T-three hundred coins!]

 

The status window called out the amount as if it were conducting an auction.

 

The Constellations, however, were far from impressed.

 

[Constellation, ‘Mother of Failure,’ lets out a long sigh.]

[Constellation, ‘The Solitary 2D Artisan,’ grumbles that you couldn’t even buy anime merchandise for that price.]

 

Seeing the poor reaction, the status window hastily changed its offer.

 

[T-Then… six hundred coins! We’ll give everyone six hundred! Is that acceptable?]

 

They still didn’t seem entirely satisfied, but at least this amount was met with reluctant approval.

Only then did the status window speak again in a relieved voice.

 

[Great! Then we’ll deposit the Constellation Coins into everyone’s accounts. Ah, if any Constellations haven’t linked their accounts yet, please do so now.]

 

Following the announcement, SSS-Rank Free-to-Play Gamer said they understood and briefly left.

 

[Then I’ll—]

 

“Ah, wait a second.”

 

Having finally put out the fire, the status window hurriedly tried to disappear.

 

Yoohee stopped it in a voice quiet enough that Joohoon couldn’t hear.

 

[Yes? Twenty-Ninth Transmigrator?]

 

Look at it pretending not to know.

 

“My compensation. I should be getting something too.”

 

Originally, Joohoon’s affection should have increased, but thanks to that so-called system error, everything had been reset.

 

Someone had to take responsibility for that.

 

[Ah… um…]

 

The status window fell into deep thought, as though it had never even considered that possibility.

 

Its reaction was completely different from how it behaved around the Constellations.

 

[Twenty-Ninth Transmigrator, we’re truly sorry about the system error. However, we’ve also suffered considerable losses on our end, so we’d appreciate your understanding.]

 

“So you’re just going to let it slide? What about my affection points? Is this really how you people do your job?”

 

[Uh… well… I’m sorry, but any adjustment involving affection points requires approval from our team leader, department manager, senior manager, executive director… and several higher-ups.]

 

Why does raising a single affection meter require that many approvals?

 

[At this rate… it’s possible the verification process won’t even be completed during this lifetime. Would that be alright?]

 

Are you trying to pick a fight?

 

Yoohee exhaled slowly and forced herself to stay calm.

 

“Then compensate me with something else.”

 

[Is there anything in particular you’d like?]

 

Why are you suddenly speaking so casually?

 

“Give me money too.”

 

[Money…? How much…?]

 

“Six hundred.”

 

[Oh my… six hundred…?]

 

“That’s right. I deserve six hundred too.”

 

It wasn’t as though she desperately needed the money right now.

 

Still, having it on hand would always come in useful.

 

There was no such thing as having too much money.

 

[Hmm… Due to recent inflation across the galaxy, converting Constellation Coins into human-world currency at that rate isn’t feasible. How about three hundred?]

 

“Five hundred.”

 

[Alright. Four hundred. That’s the highest I can possibly go.]

 

The status window firmly drew the line.

 

Yoohee considered haggling a little more.

 

But Joohoon was standing right beside her, and truthfully, she hadn’t expected to get the full six hundred in the first place.

 

She decided to settle.

 

“Fine. Four hundred it is.”

 

[Very well. After deducting Galactic Tax, we’ll deposit ₩3,867,099 into your account. As for your bank account number… I’ll just find it myself.]

 

The status window finished its report in a voice so unenthusiastic that anyone could tell it couldn’t care less.

Wait… what’s Galactic Tax?

 

“Yoohee… are you feeling any better?”

 

She wanted to argue with the status window some more, but Joohoon spoke to her before she had the chance.

Click.

 

The status window cut off, and Yoohee quickly composed herself as though nothing had happened.

 

“Mm. I’m okay.”

 

Joohoon sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her.

 

Perhaps because his affection level had returned to normal, his expression was as calm as usual.

 

“I’m sorry about earlier… I don’t think I was in my right mind for a moment. I must’ve scared you, didn’t I?”

 

Seeing Joohoon acting like his usual self again, Yoohee waved both hands dismissively.

 

“No. You don’t have to apologize.”

 

If anyone was to blame, it wasn’t Joohoon.

 

It was the system.

 

Yoohee denied it firmly, and Joohoon seemed reassured.

 

His voice softened.

 

“You’re still tired, aren’t you? Get a little more sleep. I’ll stay here with you.”

 

As Joohoon whispered gently, Yoohee glanced around the room.

 

A suitcase that hadn’t been unpacked yet stood in one corner.

 

The desk, drawers, and the rest of the basic furniture all looked bare.

 

“By the way… where are we?”

 

“My room.”

 

“Your room?”

 

Yoohee blinked in confusion.

 

Wouldn’t most people take someone back to their own dorm?

 

As she wondered that, Joohoon pulled the rumpled blanket back over her.

 

“You can sleep here.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Don’t worry. I have a single room.”

 

A single room…

 

Now that she looked around again, there was only one of everything.

 

Including the bed.

 

“No. I can’t take your bed.”

 

The hands smoothing out the blanket paused.

 

Then Joohoon spoke in a voice tinged with disappointment.

 

“Don’t worry about that. I can sleep on the floor.”

 

“How could I let you do that? You barely got any proper sleep in F Hall as it is.”

 

All this time, Joohoon had lived chained up on a cold, hard floor.

 

How could she possibly make him sleep on the floor again?

 

Just then, Joohoon withdrew his hands from the neatly spread blanket and looked up.

 

“…Or would you rather sleep together?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Yoohee’s eyes grew round once more.

 

His affection level really did go back to normal… right?

 

“I just… wanted to stay together a little longer.”

 

Joohoon muttered the words while lowering his gaze.

 

…No, I guess it really has returned to normal.

 

“But… shouldn’t I go back to my dorm?”

 

Yoohee asked carefully.

 

Joohoon reluctantly nodded.

 

“You’re right. Sorry… I put you in an awkward position.”

 

He bit down on his lower lip as though blaming himself.

 

Seeing that, Yoohee’s resolve wavered.

 

Now I feel like I’m the one who said something awful.

 

Joohoon hadn’t meant anything strange by it.

 

His feelings had simply been genuine.

 

“Then… should I stay just a little longer before I go? It’s been so long since we’ve been able to spend time together like this.”

 

Their visiting hours had always been far too short.

 

And with the CCTV cameras watching them, she’d never been able to shake the feeling that someone was constantly observing them.

 

Being able to talk this comfortably…

 

This was the first time in four years.

 

“Okay.”

 

The disappointment on Joohoon’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a bright smile.

 

After that, the two of them sat side by side on the bed, chatting quietly.

 

Joohoon told her stories about his time in F Hall.

 

Contrary to what she’d imagined, it hadn’t been quite as terrible as she’d feared.

 

“The food wasn’t that bad. More than anything… having visiting time with you made it bearable.”

 

He told her they were allowed one walk down the corridor every day.

 

And on White Day, one of the guards had even given everyone candy for dessert.

 

Yoohee listened quietly to his stories.

 

Before she realized it, a yawn escaped her lips.

 

Seeing that, Joohoon immediately placed a pillow on his lap and patted it gently.

 

“Lie down.”

 

I shouldn’t accidentally fall asleep like this.

 

But…

 

She didn’t want to leave behind this warm, peaceful moment.

 

Perhaps she’d been tense all this time without even realizing it.

 

Now, sitting here talking idly with Joohoon, free from worry…

 

This ordinary moment felt unbelievably precious.

 

“Then… just for a little while.”

 

As she rested her head on the pillow on Joohoon’s lap, an overwhelming sense of comfort washed over her.

 

His soft, low voice.

 

The quiet sound of his breathing between sentences.

 

The faint scent of soap drifting from someone so close.

 

Everything made her heart feel warm.

 

“…Thank you, Yoohee.”

 

She thought Joohoon had thanked her one last time.

 

Without even realizing when she’d closed her eyes…

 

She drifted naturally into sleep.