Chapter 3: The sin of translating too well.
Ah.
When Yoo Da-hee was abruptly dragged into another world, her mind was filled with nothing but question marks.
Why… me?
If Yoo Da-hee had any fault, it was only that she translated too well.
The sin of translating too well…
“Fcking hell… Why do I keep getting these insane commissions?!”
[Tatsuro, if you lick here, I’m sure it’ll heal fast…♥]
[Uh…? No way… That part of yours… it’s kinda dark and gross… And it smells exactly like the chicken coop at our school…]
Aaaagh!
“Phew…”
Goddamn.
It had been five years since Yoo Da-hee dove into the world of illegal translations. It wasn’t as lucrative as a proper job, but it paid way better than any part-time gig.
[…I take English, Japanese, and Chinese, no problem, but I don’t do gore, snuff, scat, or anything disgusting.]
– Contact me at aksmfrlaqnrkr@google.com
– This person’s legit, translates fast and well. They can rattle off translations on the spot. Knows subcultures inside out, not some half-assed job but straight-up localization—nay, transcendent translation.
– Ex) “I never knew it could feel this good! I’ve been missing out on half my life!”
– This guy did that? Fcking insane lol.
– Came from Furry Channel. Sent a commission request to the writer.
– Furry, furry… shedding everywhere…
– Do you take dragon car-sex genre commissions too?
– Yo?
She thought it was just a simple married-woman manga, but fck! When Aunt Shimura popped up, Yoo Da-hee’s gag reflex nearly exploded with crude jokes, though she barely held it together with sheer willpower.
“This is just a translation job, no personal feelings. This is just a translation job, no personal feelings. This is just a translation job, no personal feel—ughhh!”
[You’re all pent up.]
[Suppressing it’s bad for your health~]
[Don’t be shy, show Aunt your thingy!] Squelch.
Should she just say she can’t do it? Yoo Da-hee hesitated.
Why the hell were there four volumes of this crap, and how many more times would she have to deal with this…?
She hadn’t felt this mentally drained since reading Hlkax. She turned her gaze from the monitor for a moment.
Phew…
Earning money is this tough, folks. Study hard, study.
Maybe she should take a break, jerk off, and approach the work with the enlightened mindset of a sage who’s mastered all worldly knowledge—such idle thoughts crossed her mind.
Ding!
“Oh, new job came in.”
– [It’s been a while! Can you translate?]
“A regular.”
It was a repeat client who’d often hired her before.
Oddly, they always sent academic paper-like stuff instead of smut or manga.
They paid way better than other gigs, so she had no complaints… but she couldn’t understand why they didn’t just hire professional translators.
“…What’s this, anyway?”
– (Attachment). ̴̨̩͚̠̦̹͎͔̭̫̙̺̭μην͉̣̺̽͆͊̓͆̾̌̄͌̍̓̔ διἀ͘͜͠, ̷̢̡̨̣͓͎̼̝̹̼͇̮̙̻͖̠͌̅̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌βάζεις̈̑̋̓̓̚ ̶͈̞̺̜̟͓̬̟̼̼̯̩̪̽̽ ̷͔͎̼̭̹͈̰̹͈̬̜̹̦̹̩̈̽̆͑̕̕͜͝͝ ̸̴PDF
– [If you’re not busy with other work, could you get this done by the end of the week?]
Thinking the page might’ve loaded wrong, she hammered the refresh button, but nothing changed.
Maybe the file itself was corrupted, but it downloaded just fine.
What kind of abyss was waiting for her? Swallowing hard, she clicked the file.
If it was gore or gross stuff, she’d block this regular without hesitation. When she opened the file in a small window, what greeted her was…
“Huh… What’s this now?”
A jumble of incomprehensible English… or was it Latin? After some Googling, it turned out to be Greek.
Not some pirated manga scan, but… yeah.
It looked like an old manuscript, barely digitized to the point of being readable.
She could handle English, Japanese, and Chinese, but Greek was a no-go. She shot off a message saying so, and a reply came instantly.
– [Sorry, I sent the wrong file.]
– (Attachment). ̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌̈ ̴̨̩͚̠̦̹͎͔̭̫̙̺̭͉̣̺̽͆͊̓͆̾̌̄͌̍̓̔̓͘͜͠, 读 ̷̢̡̨̣͓͎̼̝̹̼͇̮̙̻͖̠͌̅̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌̈̑̋̓̓̚ ̶͈̞̺̜̟͓̬̟̼̼̯̩̪̽̽ 不 ̷͔͎̼̭̹͈̰̹͈̬̜̹̦̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌̈ ̸̴PDF
– (Attachment). ̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜ ̴̨̩͚̠̦̹͎͔̭̫̙̺̭͉̣̺̽͆͊̓͆̾̌̄͌̍̓̔̓͘͜͠, ̷̢̡̨̣͓͎̼̝̹̼͇̮̙̻͖̠͌̅̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜いさ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌̈ ̴̨̩͚̠̦̹͎͔̭̫̙̺̭͉̣̺̽͆͊̓͆̾̌̄͌̍̓̔̓͘͜͠, ̷̢̡̨̣͓͎̼̝̹̼͇̮̙̻͖̠͌̅̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜だく ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌̈̑̋̓̓̚ ̶͈̞̺̜̟͓̬̟̼̼̯̩̪̽̽ ̷͔͎̼̭̹͈̰̹͈̬̜̹̦̐̽̊̐͌͗͑͜͜ ̴̛̹͇͕̬̫̳̹͕͙͑̒̌̈ ̸̴PDF
It felt like things just got weirder.
Opening it again, this time it was a cleaner document… but something was off.
One side was in Chinese, the other in Japanese.
Skimming the first sentence, both seemed to say the same thing:
– That which is not dead can eternal lie, and with strange eons even death may die.
Ssssh—
“Ugh, it’s cold.”
– [This feels like something I’ve translated before… Should I just do it in Korean?]
– [Oh! Is that okay?]
– [Huh?]
– [Never mind, lol.]
Yoo Da-hee didn’t get what they meant by “okay.”
– [Actually, the original’s already been translated into Chinese and Japanese… but they don’t seem accurate. I’m looking for someone to cross-check and translate into Korean.]
Cross-check Chinese and Japanese to translate into Korean?
Double translation wasn’t her forte, and it was a time-consuming, pointless hassle.
Plus, she knew nothing about the original Greek.
English and Greek might seem similar, but in translation, they’re as different as humans and bananas genetically.
“Tch…”
Why do so many double-translated books get republished with direct translations?
No matter how hard a translator tries, once the original’s nuances are filtered through another language, the meaning often gets warped.
– [I know it’s time-consuming and tough, but I have nowhere else to turn.]
– [If you translate this—]
“…Huh?”
– [I’ll pay you 30 times the usual rate.]
Ding!
A deposit notification popped up for the account they’d used before.
11/24/20XX 14:53 [1/100 advance payment] Deposited 24,000,000 KRW
Yoo Da-hee checked the app, thinking it was a prank, but…
“Crazy btch, it’s real?”
Why would they throw this kind of money at her without her even starting, as if she could just run a translator and bail?
Gulp, her throat tightened.
The PDF was a thousand pages long.
At 40,000 KRW per page, that’s 40 million KRW. Double-checking Chinese and Japanese would justify doubling the fee, no problem.
And 30 times that?
“2.4 billion…?”
A hundred times the advance payment.
She could quit her job and live it up with no worries.
Seeing them casually drop the advance, they were dead serious, 100%.
– [Thank you, valued customer! Anything else I can help with?]
Quick decisions were the key to surviving in this world.
Yoo Da-hee immediately groveled before her big-spending client.
– [Please finish by the end of the week ^^]
Ugh…!
She canceled all her other translation schedules.
Sorry to the others waiting, but this was a whale of a client, a once-in-a-lifetime chance she had to seize.
– [I’ll start right away.]
Yoo Da-hee sent the reply and got ready to head out.
Was the convenience store still doing that Red Bull 1+1 deal?
She wasn’t sprouting wings, but it was time to spread them.
*
Aaaagh! Guwaaak!
The feeling of Red Bull coursing through her veins instead of blood was no illusion.
Despite countless struggles… she did it.
Fueled by Sake L’s work-song playlist, she powered through the translation grind.
Worried about errors, she paid out of pocket to have tricky sentences checked by a renowned native-speaker proofreading team… but oddly, none responded.
She’d paid extra to meet the tight deadline, thinking they’d scammed her, but their website only posted a notice about unavoidable circumstances halting their work.
Whatever, she’d ground her health to finish the translation.
Yoo Da-hee’s final note on the project: the original author must be a massive horror and sci-fi fiction nut. No one else would write something this bizarre.
But she could swear she’d never seen anything like it.
Come to think of it, there was that urban legend.
A famous writer dies in an accident, and among their belongings, an unpublished manuscript is found.
Someone discovers it and publishes it under their own name.
Just a ghost story, what did she care?
She was about to rake in enough cash to shut up any doubts.
Yoo Da-hee typed the final sentence, ready to end this grueling translation job.
The last line of the translation:
[In his house at R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.]
And the moment she hit enter—
“…Huh?”
Yoo Da-hee realized.
Why was it so dark outside, and why were countless stars twinkling?
…But it was a mistake.
“Ah, aaah—!”
Not stars, not stars, not stars, not stars, not stars, not stars.
Eyes, they were eyes.
Every star in the night sky was the gaze of some indescribable thing.
Countless alien eyes, staring at Yoo Da-hee with intense curiosity, poured down upon her.
Her scream echoed briefly, but soon, the small studio apartment was empty.
No trace, no record of Yoo Da-hee ever being there.
And so, Yoo Da-hee vanished.