Ep 5-1. The Poor Card

Heavenly Army, Doraon dorai_ By Ooahan JS

My outburst caused the murmurs around me to grow louder.

“If the card doesn’t work, just use another one or pay in cash. Seriously, such a hassle.”

Though no one said it outright, their accusing stares carried the same sentiment.

“What do they want me to do? I only have this one card. And no cash. What am I supposed to do?”

Once deceived by love and left penniless, now I felt like even my spirit was being drained. But I couldn’t back down.

Even in my poverty, I tried to hide it. I glared at the cashier, wide-eyed, as if to say:
“I’m not someone to be underestimated. This isn’t my fault. I used this card this morning, and it worked just fine!”

But the cashier, clearly annoyed, shoved my one and only debit card into the terminal again.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“You little @$%! I swear…”

Cursing rose up in my throat but I swallowed it down. Losing my temper here, in front of all these people, would only get me labeled as a public menace. If this ended up on social media, my life would be over.

Modern, civilized people must learn to endure. No matter how angry they are, they must stay composed.

But bottling up my fury only made my face flush redder.

As the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, an older, more experienced cashier rushed over to resolve the issue.
The resolution? Ridiculously fast.

The rookie cashier had spent over a minute jamming my card into the reader with no success. Meanwhile, the veteran entered the serial number on the back of my card and got the payment approved in five seconds flat.

Why did I have to end up at the rookie’s register?
If I’d had the veteran from the start, I wouldn’t have missed my chance with Fake Bong Joon-ho.

Defeated, I accepted my now-approved card, packed my groceries into the trash bag I’d purchased, and left the supermarket.

“One day, when I’m rich, I’ll replace this sad debit card with a sleek black titanium card. Then card readers will never fail me, and no one will ever abuse my card again.”

Because of that faulty terminal, I had lost Fake Bong Joon-ho—the man who could’ve been my soulmate.

Outside, I scanned the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was gone.

What a shame.

He was exactly my type, and if fate—and he—had allowed it, we could’ve had the most beautiful, cosmic love story imaginable.

But just because it didn’t work out in reality didn’t mean it was over. If I couldn’t have him in real life, I could still have him in my imagination.

So I let my mind wander, weaving a thousand fiery, beautiful, and even ridiculous romances with him.

SF romance, fantasy romance, paranormal romance, romantic suspense, erotic romance—even soap-opera-worthy melodramas and utterly unhinged scenarios.

In my mind, Fake Bong Joon-ho and I lived out every genre of romance possible. By the time I finished, the irritation from my shopping trip had all but faded.

As I walked, a discount store near the supermarket caught my eye. It looked new, like it had just opened.

Why would someone open a store right next to a big supermarket? Was the owner bold? Or just clueless?

Curiosity piqued, I stepped inside—not just to satisfy my interest, but also to test my card. I needed to confirm if it was really faulty. After all, it had worked fine that morning.

If the card was defective, the problem must’ve started when I used it at the corner store to buy milk. But if the card wasn’t defective? Then that supermarket cashier was the real @$%!.

At the entrance, I grabbed a polka-dot scarf I didn’t need and headed to the counter. “I’ll probably use it someday…”

I handed over my card. The owner swiped it once, and the transaction went through immediately.

“What the… It’s not the card?! Dammit!”

The humiliation of being wrongly judged and the bitterness of misplaced blame surged through me. My card had been fine all along; the supermarket terminal was the problem.

Why had the rookie cashier assumed it was my card? Couldn’t they have checked?

Perhaps this whole ordeal was a curse from the gods, trying to snuff out the flicker of romance in my heart. After all, Fake Bong Joon-ho’s card had gone through without a hitch, but mine hadn’t.

Maybe this wasn’t destiny. Just a fleeting, sad encounter. Tears blurred my vision.

But as I walked home, humming a cheerful tune, I felt lighter. In my mind, I had already shared countless romances with Fake Bong Joon-ho, and that was enough for now.

Imagination is truly extraordinary.Or rather, delusions can be downright dangerous.