NOVEL NEXT Chapter 13
13 ~ Big Cleanup, Now!
The night sky in this world was vastly different from the one in Dylin’s past life. Back home, stars were rare and distant. But here on the Kaleburn Continent, the heavens glittered with constellations—pure and unpolluted, untouched by industrial smog.
Dylin sat on the dorm balcony, two fingers pinching a cigarette. The bitter scent of cheap tobacco and nicotine mixed together, releasing a greasy, acrid stench.
He took a long drag on the stub, exhaling a thick stream of smoke. His trembling hands finally steadied.
He was sleepless again tonight.
Ever since arriving in this world, he’d struggled with insomnia—always waking with a start in the middle of the night, and once awake, sleep would never return.
Maybe he had too much to think about. Maybe his mind was too restless during the day, his nerves too worn. Or maybe it was just plain mental exhaustion, haunted by endless nightmares.
Either way, Dylin didn’t dwell on the why. He’d simply grown used to this: smoking two cigarettes on the balcony when sleep wouldn’t come.
Don’t misunderstand—before he was flattened by that year-end delivery truck trying to meet quota, Dylin had been a clean-living, model student. Ate well, slept well, and prided himself on keeping his habits clean.
These bad habits had only formed after he transmigrated. Back in his old life, he’d hated the smell of cigarettes and found smokers irritating.
He didn’t think smoking made him look cool or anything. And frankly, he couldn’t afford the luxury—he only ever bought the most budget-friendly brand.
In polite terms: economical. In blunt terms: cheap.
This world did have cigarettes, but their manufacturing was clearly less advanced than in his past life. Not that Dylin had smoked before, so he couldn’t say which world’s cigarettes were “better.”
Either way, it was all garbage. Better not to touch them at all.
Sitting in a short-sleeved shirt, Dylin took a moment to reach into his chest pocket and pull out the Golden Butterfly Hairpin. He turned it over in his fingers, eyes narrowing.
Well, this world did have magic. So all sorts of crazy, unbelievable stuff could happen.
With some hesitation, he clipped the butterfly ornament onto the side of his hair. Using the reflection in the glass balcony door, he stared at himself—a teenage boy slouched on a small stool, one hand holding his head up, the other fiddling with his hair. The golden butterfly practically outshone the rest of him.
An undeveloped teenage boy wearing a girl’s hair accessory, with hair already nearing shoulder-length—it almost made him look like a lethargic short-haired girl.
He flicked the cigarette butt into a glass jar already full of them and shut his eyes.
Golden runes formed glowing chains that spiraled outward from his body. Inch by inch, Dylin’s skin and features shifted. Bathed in golden light, his black hair flowed down, transforming into radiant gold.
The dark-haired boy disappeared—replaced by a tiny elf girl sitting on a stool, her dangling feet unable to reach the ground.
Teresa cupped her chin in both hands, swaying her dainty legs as she stared at her reflection in the glass.
Still unawakened as a Divine Princess, her face was youthful and exquisitely delicate.
If she hadn’t witnessed it herself, she would’ve never believed it—that she could actually become a little elf girl…
“Cough, cough…” The moment the transformation ended, Teresa began hacking uncontrollably. A wave of physical revulsion made her cover her mouth and nose.
She’d just smoked. The room was thick with lingering haze. The jar beside her brimmed with old butts. Every breath felt like it dragged burnt nicotine particles straight into her lungs.
Immersed in that nauseating reek of stale smoke, Teresa felt like even her golden hair had absorbed the stench—now sticky and greasy.
Disgusting!
She had no idea tobacco could smell this revolting!
Hopping off the stool, she glanced around. The room wasn’t exactly filthy, but it was far from clean. At least most things were in their place.
Still, just the sight of it gave Teresa goosebumps.
The nightstand was piled high with uncategorized books, topped with a few dirty clothes. The bed hadn’t been made, blankets thrown together like a dead fish. The trash bin was overflowing. And the floor…
She hadn’t noticed it before, but now—now as an elf—it looked coated in a layer of dust.
This place was like a landfill! Just standing here made her skin crawl.
How the hell did I ever live in this place?!
She couldn’t figure it out. All she knew was—she couldn’t stay in this dump a second longer.
Her dainty pink feet slid into oversized slippers. Charging into the washroom, Teresa grabbed a towel and fashioned it into a makeshift mask to cover her nose and mouth.
She tied her hair into a side ponytail, picked up the mop and broom… and got to work.
Nearly an hour later, she dumped the last bag of garbage at the door and finally exhaled in relief.
The room was clean now—but the smoke still lingered. If her finances allowed, Teresa would’ve bought out half a perfume store and sprayed every inch of the floor and walls.
She would gladly suffocate on cheap perfume if it meant not smelling another whiff of cigarette smoke.
Was tobacco always this awful? She could’ve sworn it didn’t bother her before…
She removed the towel-mask, twitched her little nose—then nearly passed out. Quickly, she put the mask back on.
That was it. She was quitting smoking.
Just the thought of that vile smoke filling her lungs made her want to hurl.
First things first—take this trash to the waste station.
Opening the door, Teresa froze. She hadn’t stepped outside yet, but then she remembered—her very conspicuous elf ears.
She couldn’t wrap them in gauze every time. That would look way too weird.
Then, inspiration struck.
She rummaged through the drawer and pulled out the pair of headphones she’d drawn from the Golden Butterfly Gacha the other day.
They were wing-shaped ear covers. She slipped them on—perfect. They covered her elf ears exactly.
The most important thing was that no one but herself could remove these headphones. When worn, she felt as though she were under some kind of protection—kind of like wearing a Level 3 helmet.