The committee chairwoman hadn't come to see me for nothing.
They were discussing issues that had stemmed from my situation in the apartment management committee chat room.
What I thought were subtle insults directed at me were actually meant to help me.
- Unit 714: So are we only building ramps in the building where this incident happened?
- Unit 302: That's urgent for now, but we should eventually build them in all buildings
- Unit 1211: That's right. We never know when we might end up in a wheelchair ourselves, do we?
- Unit 801: Are the elevator button positions adequate?
- Unit 408: One is on the front, and another is on the side at handle height, so it's perfectly reachable even from a wheelchair
Like this, plans for reorganizing various facilities were being proposed with me as the starting point.
- Unit 505: But did the security guard just let those people enter the building?
- Unit 601: I think they probably let them in because they said they were delivering packages... Realistically, it's not easy to manage every single visitor
- Unit 412: Right, it's also difficult to have the management office hold packages and contact residents to pick them up every time
- Unit 806: Still, if someone had been watching the CCTV when outsiders entered the building, couldn't they have caught them right away?
- Unit 1111: They said the guard opened the door and went on patrol... From now on, we should ask them to watch the CCTV when letting outsiders in
- Unit 406: The problem is when they enter with residents...
- Unit 702: Let's connect the CCTV from both buildings to be monitored in one place
- Unit 702: When security guards from one building go on patrol, have someone else watch both CCTVs
- Unit 905: That sounds good, but how do we do that?
- Unit 702: Um... Are there any science majors here? Is this even possible?
I could see busy discussions about the problems from this incident and follow-up measures.
It didn't feel like they were just moving for my sake; it felt urgent because it wasn't just someone else's story.
Well, there's no guarantee that what happened to me won't happen to them.
They're preparing in advance for that possibility.
Thinking about it that way, all this fuss didn't seem fake.
People who act in their own self-interest are somewhat reliable, after all.
But I didn't jump into the conversation right away.
My game wasn't over yet.
In League of Champions, where the situation can change by the second, the minute or so I spent greeting the committee chairwoman wasn't insignificant.
To make up for that, I had to keep Teemo running around busily until the game ended.
I planted poison mushrooms at every important passage and showed my face subtly when fights seemed imminent.
Using Teemo's high base movement speed, I'd slip away to manage lanes whenever there was a lull, then quickly return.
By planting poison mushrooms in unexpected places and continuously guiding the battlefield in our favor,
the enemy team would step on mushrooms when coming to fight, then step on more while scattering to find escape routes.
Teemo's deployable poison mushrooms aren't just painful because of their damage.
The damage is continuous, plus there's the slowing effect.
And depending on the item build, even more annoying situations can unfold.
There's a reason people hate Teemo so much.
And that includes teammates.
It's hard to say he contributes much in large team fights.
The warrior champions commonly seen in top lane tend to be quite durable.
They also have threatening damage output that can latch onto ranged carries.
Tanks sacrifice some damage in exchange for being even more durable and equipped with crowd control abilities that disrupt enemy ranged carries.
But what about Teemo?
His blind and poison mushrooms are annoying, but if you handle them well, he's just a fragile glass cannon easy to kill.
Of course, it would be different if he built tank items, but investing in tankiness means sacrificing the annoying damage output that makes enemies frustrated.
So typically, Teemo is a champion hated by both allies and enemies.
But a well-fed Teemo is a different story.
For allies, a well-utilized Teemo becomes a strategic weapon that can force enemies to retreat without a fight.
Just stepping on a few poison mushrooms can leave them at death's door.
Of course, my chosen item build wasn't one with high damage expectations.
But it was enough to make the opponents frustrated.
- [All] Tomator: There are mushrooms everywhere...
- [All] YonghyunElementary3rdGrade1ClassKimMyungyun: I just swept with a lens and cleared them, why are there more mushrooms?
- [All] SweetChildOfMine: The mushrooms are literally invisible...
- [All] Tomator: Mushrooms are invisible by default
- [All] SweetChildOfMine: True
- [All] Cageinhamter: True lol
Since it was a normal game with no ranked points at stake,
everyone just laughed while dying from poison mushrooms.
Viewers also chuckled watching these scenes.
Even though the opposing team was enjoying themselves despite getting hit,
they didn't find losing the game fun, so after one 5v5 fight, they surrendered immediately.
They must have thought there was no chance of winning if they continued.
I wish those guys who scribbled graffiti and ran away had been like this.
Well, if they had any sense, they wouldn't have cursed in the first place.
If they were facing a lawsuit because of it, normal people would immediately apologize and back down.
I don't understand why they're making this bigger than it needs to be.
Anyway, now that the game was over,
I wondered if I should offer my opinion...
"You all seem to be discussing things well without me needing to jump in."
I didn't see a good opportunity to interject.
The announcement said not to chat casually, and they were all talking enthusiastically, so I couldn't even say hello.
Now it felt awkward to suddenly greet everyone.
And all the suggestions I might have made were already covered.
"Hahaha, right. I didn't expect so many ideas to come up."
The woman from next door agreed while looking at her phone.
Perhaps some of the chat messages coming in now were her contributions.
Anyway, the discussion was so active there was no room for us to jump in.
Both the woman and I just silently watched the chat.
"If you don't have anything specific to say, you can just wait and vote later. Don't feel pressured."
"I guess so."
That meant I could go back to gaming if I wanted.
As she said, I could just vote when needed and hear about the results later.
There was no point in forcing an opinion when I had nothing additional to contribute.
"But more than anything, I'm surprised so many people are discussing this on a weekday. Did everyone get off work early?"
"Well, I'm here because I got off early, but it's almost evening, and usually housewives tend to handle this kind of management."
"Ah."
That made sense.
If not a dual-income couple, it would be more efficient for the non-working spouse to pay attention to these matters.
Naturally, being a housewife means being able to join discussions on these topics immediately.
My mother probably used to do this.
...The thought that I had taken my mother's place made me feel strange.
But I wasn't substituting for my mother; I was just representing our household's opinion.
There was no reason to feel bad or burdened.
Well, I wouldn't be doing this once my money ran out anyway.
It's an interesting experience to have before dying.
Thanks to this, I could turn my attention away from apartment management committee business
and go back to gaming until both my viewers and I were satisfied.
Meanwhile, the woman from next door headed back to her place, saying she'd eat dinner separately.
I offered to order delivery food with gift certificates, but she adamantly refused.
She said she didn't want to deplete my food supply.
When someone puts it that way, it becomes awkward to keep insisting.
To me, gift certificates are practically my remaining lifespan.
There's no need to keep pushing them on someone who doesn't want to accept them.
However, once she left my apartment,
I decided to postpone using the gift certificates until tomorrow since I wasn't particularly hungry.
It would be foolish to shorten my lifespan when I wasn't even hungry.
So just as I was about to queue for the next game,
there was another commotion outside my door.
This time, I didn't need to go to the living room to check the intercom and see who was outside.
I heard something rustling, then a loud bang as something struck my door.
So I could only guess:
Someone had come to really harm me.
I quickly grabbed a knife and my phone, and called 112 first.
- Hello, this is 112. Ah, are you the person who reported the graffiti earlier?
"Yes, that's me. Someone is trying to break down my door right now."
- Officers on patrol will be heading your way. Please lock your door and hide as best you can. Blocking the door with furniture might also help.
Blocking the door with furniture? What an unrealistic suggestion.
If I were still a man, maybe I could drag the bed over to block the door.
But that's impossible with this body.
Still, I had to try.
Using the knife would be a last resort.
I don't particularly want to become a murderer.
So while I was struggling to pull the bed to block the door,
the loud noise outside changed slightly.
Instead of just the sound of metal breaking down the door, it sounded like two men arguing.
Surely the police couldn't have teleported here.
Perhaps they ran into a security guard on patrol?
Or a neighbor?
- Arghhhh!
Then, as if they had actually started fighting, I heard a shout.
I gave up moving the bed and headed toward the front door with my knife.
I knew that while someone was buying time outside, I'd be safe if I just stayed inside.
Once the police arrived, whoever was trying to break down the door would be caught red-handed.
But what if the neighbor or security guard fighting outside got hurt in the meantime?
I'd have to cover some of their medical expenses, and where would I get that kind of money?
I don't like danger.
But I hate debt even more.
So I had no choice but to step up.
Just as I was about to open the door, a clever idea occurred to me.
There was no need to attack them and give them ammunition against me.
What worried me was being harmed, or being beaten and threatened without any outside help.
But now the police were on their way.
So couldn't I just take a few hits?
I was used to getting beaten up anyway.
So I boldly opened the door and went out.
The doorknob was damaged from whatever had been used to strike it, making the door turn stiffly.
There are times when you have to put your body on the line knowing you'll get hit.
That's what being a top laner is about.
In this moment, I wasn't just a short, one-legged, one-eyed person, but the warrior who always fought for me in games.
...In truth, I was just thinking these things because I was scared.
"Move! My life is getting ruined because of this bitch!"
"Hey, calm down. I don't know what happened, but if something bad really happened, let's resolve it through conversation first..."
"I am trying to talk! Ah, you...!"
As I guessed, outside was a normal-looking man pushing the security guard.
When they heard the door open with a click, they both turned to look at me.
"Ah, student! You shouldn't come out now, go back inside!"
"You fucking bitch, I'm about to get kicked out of my house because of you!"
Before the security guard could stop him, the man walked toward me, raging.
From his clothes and face, he had an air of privilege—clearly someone raised by well-off parents.
I couldn't understand what grudge such a person could have to slander me like that on the internet.
"Blaming me again? That's ridiculous. You dug your own grave. Did anyone force you to threaten people with a knife and curse at them?"
"You bitch!"
I articulated exactly what I'd been wanting to say to him all this time.
That must have really set him off, because he immediately reached for my face.
I gritted my teeth and glared at him.
Hit me if you dare.
I'll milk every bit of sympathy I can get.
Then, smack.
His palm struck my cheek, making my skull rattle.
He must have slapped instead of punching because I'm a woman.
Getting hit by my father helps in times like this.
If I just collapse, they lose steam and don't hit me again.
...The impact with the wall and floor when I fell hurt much more than my stinging cheek.
But hiding that pain, I continued pretending to be unconscious.
The man started making stupid noises.
"Uh, uh...?"
"M-murder!"
"N-no! I didn't mean to kill her! No, she's not dead! She can't be dead!"
Thanks to the security guard's dramatic reaction, the man started to panic, which almost made me burst out laughing.
But remembering the pain from hitting the floor, I desperately continued my unconscious act.
Then, perhaps due to my lack of sleep, I actually dozed off.