I Am Not a Robot. Beep-bop

Chapter 1: Café Electricity Is Delicious…

People each have their own fantasies or dreams.

Some dream of sudden wealth.

Fame.

Or self-fulfillment through a chosen career or academic achievements.

Others hope for the realization of ideals they’ve read in biographies or fairy tales.

In rare cases, some even dream beyond becoming presidents or kings, aspiring to conquer the world.

Of course, it goes without saying, but even I—whose spirit has been thoroughly crushed by my boss’s nonsensical remarks—once had romantic dreams as a child.

Why the past tense, you ask?

It’s because for most people, including me, dreams and fantasies are often left behind in childhood, fading away without a trace.

Sure, there are those who continue chasing their dreams even as they grow gray.

Elderly students returning to universities after decades, juggling work and personal development, relentlessly pursuing their aspirations.

Or those who, with abundant support from childhood, tread systematic and firm paths to their goals.

Sadly, I’m not among them.

I merely settled into reality, letting the boss’s meaningless words go in one ear and out the other, and forgot about my dreams long ago.

At the very least, being an office worker was not what I aspired to be.

To be exact, enduring my boss’s absurd demand to write documents by hand instead of using Excel was definitely not a childhood dream.

Dreams?

Romance?

They sound nice.

But pursuing those as an adult is rare; most are worn down by life and work.

Eventually, few even remember what their dreams were.

I’m not belittling those who still strive toward their dreams.

They deserve applause, no doubt.

Pursuing a dream while enduring the stress of people, bosses, money, and life is admirable.

Watching those who persist in their childhood dreams despite the physical and emotional toll almost makes me feel a flicker of inadequacy.

Because I couldn’t do the same.

Someone once said,

“As long as you breathe, there is hope.”

That as long as you’re alive, you hold infinite, radiant possibilities.

I don’t remember where I read that—maybe from a dime-a-dozen autobiography or self-help book.

For the record, my dreams and ambitions, born of my delusions, were deemed impossible long ago.

Now, I’m just an ordinary modern person, battered by life.

Ah, I’ve gone on a tangent.

So, what was my dream, you ask?

Well, it’s embarrassing, but I’ll say it plainly now.

“I wanted to be a hero or a demon king.”

The kind of hero and demon king you’d see in games, comics, and novels.

The idea of fighting over the fate of the world was thrilling, but more than that, the image of a mighty and stylish demon king deeply imprinted itself as a childhood romance.

In simple terms, I was just a grown kid.

Even as an adult, a part of me still wanted to be a hero or a demon king.

Even as the world I lived in changed.

Even as my body and gender transformed.

Even now, having forgotten the years I’ve lived, the childish dream remains rooted in my heart.

-Ding.

Ah, another digression.

I came to the café just to drink milk, yet I’ve grown unexpectedly talkative.

“Um, Manager… that person is here again…”

“Shh. They’ll hear you. Welcome~!”

Beneath the smiling face, I could sense wariness.

No, not just wariness—a hint of fear mixed in their voice.

Why are they scared of me?

I don’t know either.

Objectively speaking, I think I have quite a beautiful form, yet others seem to find me frightening.

“Milk, please.”

“That’ll be… $10.”

Wow.

Ten dollars for a glass of milk.

That’s over 10,000 won in Korean currency.

Still, it makes sense.

Pure, natural milk isn’t exactly easy to come by these days.

Setting aside complaints about the price, I took the milk handed to me by the part-timer and headed for the café’s farthest corner.

This spot is perfect.

No one comes here, and the pristine, mirror-like wall is ideal for looking at myself.

Sweeping my hand through my white hair, I gazed into my glassy, mechanical eyes.

Appearance-wise, I looked like a flawless doll, but the problem was that I truly lived up to that name—I was, in fact, a doll.

As I am now, I’m not human.

A metallic skeleton.

Artificial flesh.

Hidden beneath it all, bladed tendrils and wires.

An inefficient magic core and a body battery with terrible capacity.

In terms familiar to most, I could be called a robot, a mechanical doll, an android, or even a tin can.

Yes, “android” is probably the most fitting word to describe me.

Typically, what would be a person’s purpose for visiting a café?

To drink coffee or other beverages?

Not incorrect, but cafés often serve as social meeting points.

Rather than the coffee itself, people may come to meet others, kill time, or engage with their smartphones while sipping a drink.

Some come to study, others to work remotely for megacorporations.

The coffee, in essence, is secondary. People bring laptops, phones, or books.

But I came empty-handed.

Truthfully, I wasn’t here for the milk either.

Reaching for the back of my neck, I tore away some artificial flesh, revealing metallic tendrils sparking as they met open air.

Now, let’s see… where’s the outlet?

Ah, there it is.

-Zzt!

“Ahh…”

The moment my metallic tendrils touched the outlet, a peculiar sensation of relaxation and buoyancy swept over me.

A faint groan escaped my lips against my will, which annoyed me, but the feeling was simply too good to resist.

The tingling sensation started at the back of my neck, ran along my spine, and spread throughout my body, bringing vitality back to my previously sluggish limbs.

Without this, I’d literally shut down, so ending my day by charging at the café became a necessity.

It’s ironic that, even with a mechanical body, I can still feel sensations like this.

“Manager, shouldn’t we report this person? It’s been days now—they only order milk and sit silently like a doll. It’s terrifying when there are no other customers…”

“They did that when I wasn’t here too?”

“Yes, it’s seriously creepy. They just sit there for hours after ordering milk. It’s so unnerving…”

“Mmm, café electricity… so delicious…”

If I can hold out here for about five more hours, today’s “meal” will be complete.