[Why’s that?]
“Yeah, seriously. What’s with you?”
Reality hit hard.
The doppelganger fight really did some psychological damage.
So this is how you make someone want to off themselves.
“U, uh. Uh. C-Can I touch your chest?”
Shocking.
It felt genuine, but it was so pathetic I’m speechless.
It’s like having your inner thoughts broadcast for everyone to hear.
‘I’m not like that!’
I want to protest, but honestly, that’s exactly how I’d act.
Even when I lost it under the Nightmare Queen’s charm, it was the same.
[It seems he saw his inner weak male self—who can’t even boldly raise his tail and claim a female—reflected in a clone that looks just like him. That’s why he’s blaming himself.]
“I’m gonna cut you myself.”
I was sitting there slumped when CatMan jumped up and tapped my shoulder.
[Don’t worry. Seeing this disgrace through the mirror technique will cultivate proper sexual ethics and morality, and kyaoooong?!]
I grabbed that annoying cat’s tail.
This time I bit.
“Want a beating too? Mr. Ragdoll over here hissing about tails—talking too much? Does this boil into bear soup?”
[Now I’m a bear? Those things with just high garlic resistance?]
Why does he keep cosplaying as a tiger?
Well, small animals play the prey role in the wild.
In that sense, maybe he wants a huge body like his own?
Both the mosquito that ate a monster and the two cats did.
Then the Nightmare Queen beside me rested her chin on her hand, deep in thought.
“Oh my, tail?”
What’s she thinking?
Why is she looking at my ass?
“Watch your smartphone.”
“Hmm, teach me?”
“You already know everything.”
“Still, can’t you teach me? Is this how I’m supposed to look at it? Will it stay fixed like this?”
Driving me crazy.
The Nightmare Queen seems to have gained some confidence in reverse.
She placed the smartphone stand somewhere on her enlarged body and said.
That doppelganger bastard who scanned me.
I get it. I really do.
But the reality check is too harsh—my mind’s blank.
[Resisting seduction.]
[Level increases.]
……Is this what they call psychological castration?
My level just shot up to something like the five-digit era.
Still, that doppelganger.
As CatMan said, it served as a negative example of disgrace, so resistance won’t be that hard anymore.
***
“Yeah, it’s all taken care of. Emptied the stuff too. Good job—say hi to the princess for me. If possible, buy a house. Give the kid her own room and all that. Don’t just say it. The entrance is blocked, that’s why.”
With Kim Changhwan actively helping, I could finally wrap up the building purchase.
When I asked why he was going so far.
‘I’ve got nothing else to do……!’
It was a desperate statement.
Even the former landlord grandpa said.
“Work’s gonna decrease. I lived for the fun of yelling from the broadcasting room. Ah, if you take the rent as management fees, you pay less tax—keep that in mind.”
He sat there teaching me weird tricks.
Guess you really do need to work even when you’re old.
“How do you handle cleaning and stuff?”
“If you’re not hiring anyone, you do it yourself. Clean the hallways and elevator too—recycling is 100% not done properly.”
“Ah, right.”
Come to think of it, this recycling thing—people really don’t follow it.
I did it during military service and paid attention to public service ads even as a hikikomori.
Thanks to that, I know exactly how to separate and dispose of things.
But this building’s recycling area is a mess.
Still, it’s often neatly organized in the mornings—that was all the landlord grandpa’s doing.
Now that’s my job?
“And in the parking lot, sometimes random cars—not the tenants’—park on the street in front of the studios and block the way.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Release the cats in advance.”
“The cats?”
“There’s a lady around who feeds the strays—she gives those cars an earful when they need to move in the morning, and they never come back. A cat scratched a car once before, and since it’s a wild animal, no compensation.”
“Uh, then what about the tenants’ cars?”
“Heh heh, young man. In a studio building like this, who drives a car nice enough to care about scratches? Not yet, anyway.”
So the grandpa was a cat lover with a car hate thing going on?
“But still, there’s quite a bit of work?”
“Heh heh heh, you thought owning a building meant hiring people and just counting money? Well, as long as you consistently handle recycling and parking, it’s not that bothersome. Cleaning—well, if they don’t spill those sticky drinks in the hallway instead of just Americano, it’s fine. Ah, and watch out for the ones who chug coffee and toss it in the hallway. We gotta stop using so much plastic.”
It was the grumbling of the former owner, clearly resentful of takeout iced drinks.
They could drink it outside or take it elsewhere, but they insist on bringing it in—leaving only the recyclables while the drink spills everywhere.
Of course, now it’s my job as the successor.
“Ah, and right now on the first floor, there are women in 103 and 102—their windows can’t be peeked into from outside, but there was this weird guy who suddenly peered in. Be careful. I almost went out with a stick to beat him……”
“For that kind of thing, definitely apply for safe escort home for the tenants’ safety—”
“Heh heh heh, anyway, notify everyone that the rent account changed—there might be transfer accidents sent to me by mistake. I’ll contact you now and then. Call me.”
Thus, the handover was complete.
Now there’s a second base inside this studio building.
It’s the seventh-floor management office set up by the former owner.
There’s a small storage on the seventh floor—he remodeled it into his living space with CCTV and a spot to lie down.
The CCTV came with it too.
It covers the hallways on each floor, parking lot, elevator, and first-floor entrance.
The whiteboard with elevator inspection dates, gas meter readings, etc., that the grandpa used is still there—this……
“Hoo.”
It’s gonna be more troublesome than I thought.
There’s quite a bit of work.
I’m a hikikomori Earth hero (unemployed) who loves just rolling around and playing.
To handle management, I probably need to hire someone……
But the moment I hire someone, profits will obviously disappear.
‘Having a wife to manage it would be decent—or not really.’
The estimate matches his words, so I need to earn more money.
Buying the building wasn’t to live off it leisurely.
It’s to expand my battlefield, use it without restraint, and ultimately turn this place into a graveyard for otherworld gate monsters.
In other words, I need money to evict tenants and remodel the building.
“How do I make money.”
Precisely, I want to earn it without hassle.
For the building purchase, I used the gold that the old man Kim from the Korean gold exchange gave—matching what the landlord wanted.
I saved the 2.42 kg gold from the otherworld.
The bigger the gold bar, the more valuable, and above all, it’s from the small otherworld.
They say the Box of Desire usually comes small, but not as tiny as square caramel wrappers.
If it were me, I’d take a gold-backed loan and buy another profitable property.
For making money, once Grandpa Changhwan’s situation improves, I’ll ask again—and decide after earning enough for deposits and demolition costs.
“Hmm.”
There’s a weird water stain in the second-floor hallway.
Water stains, leaks—I’m sick of them, so this……
“I gotta do it.”
Come to think of it, hallway cleaning is my responsibility now too.
Somehow, work has increased.
It’s not hard, but it’s annoyingly bothersome.
While agonizing over the noble mission of saving this world and humanity, do I really have to clean?
I returned to my room for now.
The Nightmare Queen decided holding the phone with her hand was proper—she’s staring at it like a middle school girl who won’t let go.
I pulled a T-shirt from the closet and handed it to her.
“Here, put this on.”
The Nightmare Queen usually wears lingerie-like see-through clothes, leather swimsuits, and fishnet stockings.
‘Isn’t this the way of a succubus?’
Not wrong, but……
Otherwise, when shrinking, she tries on Barbie doll clothes by undressing them.
She seems interested in clothing, but buying clothes when she’s not enlarged is awkward.
The queen had the power to make her outfit appear different via “skin illusion.”
“Uh, yes?”
“Hurry.”
The Nightmare Queen scratched her head and put on the LOCA tee I handed her.
Her shoulders and chest aren’t wide, but the bust stretches it enough to digest men’s clothes decently.
So, her figure is the type that stands out unless wearing male clothing.
The shirt is a bit loose, but even so, eyes never go to the fashion.
Not bad.
Pants are the issue—for now, have her wear mine.
“Keh?!”
I cinched it with a belt. Roughly human attire now.
“Follow me.”
“Oh my? Why so tough today? Because you bought the house?”
<House + Marriage Probability 25% Increase>
It’s not the system—reality is like that.
[What, a date?]
Should I make CatMan fetch something?
At least CatMan’s only big issue is his annoying arrogance.
The real problem is the pro-Fairy Princess faction, former pro-North patriot, current patriotic conservative RiceCookerMan—who wears a Taegeukgi cape and wants to fly—misreading this as a danger signal and trying to wake the Fairy Princess, who sleeps twenty hours a day solidly.
If I get too close with the Nightmare Queen, he throws a fit?
The Fairy Princess herself doesn’t care about grandma and just accepts it.
[G, Princess, wake up. Wake up. Ae ae ae ae aeeng. No, that’s not it.]
“Cooking complete.”
Poor inanimate thing—only those lines.
“What’s the occasion? This is my first time properly seeing the outside. Oh my? Finally me?”
Sounds seductive, but lowering her voice is nice.
“Yeah, wanna do a job with me.”
“A job—quiet, private, no people around, ah? The princess is home? Cat gentleman is here? That rice container is there?”
RiceCookerMan became a rice bin because of rice storage.
Technically correct.
The Nightmare Queen crossed her arms—it really feels like we’re going out.
And I gently handed her something.
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
A wax mop.
“We’re going to do floor coating coloring. Sound good?”
The queen still wore her softly innocent smile, but upon taking the mop handle, she softly closed her demonic eyes.
“……This is cleaning?”
“No. There’s wax, see. It’s coating.”
“That’s cleaning!?”
Wasn’t her world one without the concept of cleaning?
No choice.
Gotta force it.
I bought her a house, a smartphone, let her live without chores or killing her—this much is fair, right?
“Yeah, just push this all the way from here to there. You can do it, right?”
“No, I—I’m a queen no matter what!?”
“Can you call a king without subjects a king?”
I meant shut up and do it quickly.
But she got way more depressed than expected.
“……Fine…… I’ll do anything you order at night, even clean your body if you want, but this is humiliating!”
Hmm.
Fair enough—she was lord and queen of a kingdom, so ordering this might be too much?
She’s technically an exile.
“No, I mean—I like that stuff. Having maids cleaning, bending over mopping like this. I wanted to see that scene, you know?”
“You’d like that here? You never did it in the room? And it’s a lie—I’m not wearing a maid outfit.”
Doesn’t work.
That’s why I hate quick-witted ones.
“Ah, no. Go back in. It’s fine. I’ll struggle and polish it myself.”
“You’re stronger!? If, if you love me more, I wouldn’t mind, but prove it so I feel safe.”
[Level increases.]
“No. Go in.”
“Really going in?”
If I leave her, she’ll drain my vitality in the hallway.
My room isn’t the private spot anymore—the hallway is.
Even more dangerous.
I opened the door and attempted a substitution.
“Yeah. Hey, CatMan.”
[What?]
***
I could force CatMan, but no matter how I look at it, an enlarged cat pushing a wax mop down the hallway feels wrong.
CatMan controls his size decently—should I try?
But recycling definitely won’t happen with him.
I need someone for cleaning, recycling, that stuff.
Because I’m on CCTV duty.
“Did I have this hobby?”
Watching CCTV is surprisingly fun.
Situation room duty suited me perfectly.
How great—not moving, just glancing at footage.
It was left by the former landlord grandpa, but sitting on the plastic faux-wool blanket watching CCTV is enjoyable too.
Daytime CCTV had nothing, so I fast-forwarded the previous night’s footage at 8x speed that grandpa couldn’t watch.
“Huh, what? What’s this?”
Focusing on the second floor—afternoon, evening—202 comes out of her door.
She’s holding a box and rolled-up paper, standing in front of my room.
Hand on chest, huu, ha.
Deep breathing visible.
“……What? If you want to give a gift, just say it.”
Then 202 hesitates whether to ring my doorbell, hand on chest.
No audio, but it looks like she screams Guwaaaaak!
She grabs her head, scratches furiously, freaks out, almost headbutts the wall but just grazes it, then—seemingly upset with me—raises a fist and almost kicks my door instead of giving the gift.
Then returns to her room.
“As expected, a nutcase……”
It was funny, though. Really funny.
The most dynamic area on CCTV is the first-floor hallway.
The main door requires a resident-only code—outsiders prohibited.
And checking the night the doppelganger entered a few days ago—chilling scene.
“Huh?”
A skinny dyed-hair man runs around fully naked.
He checks surroundings at the automatic main door in front of the studios.
Tries to dash out, but bounces back as if hitting a barrier.
The floor was well-waxed with oil, so he doesn’t fall backward—just slides and flops forward.
Only his head slightly protrudes beyond the automatic door.
Then the door naturally closes, pinching the protruding head from both sides.
Thud thud thud.
It keeps pinching the head.
Zooming in on this eerie sight.
It looks like a person came out of my bromide poster.
Then the 103 woman drags the unconscious naked man away like a corpse.