No one told me to—but I began working harder than her, and I gave her more of my food. She waved it off, but I insisted. And in the end, she accepted even that stubbornness of mine.

I wasn’t particularly skilled—not even at something as simple as folding a box—but I worked hard.

If I fell behind, the foreman would take it out on her. So in front of the foreman, I stayed alert, careful. And during breaks, I ran errands, doing whatever I could to stay in their good graces.

Ten days passed like that.

And today was the tenth.

“Box team! Hurry up and clean up and switch out! Stop dragging your feet!”

The factory dorm housed twenty people in a single room. It was absurdly crowded—but still cheaper than being pushed out into the nearby shacks and paying what little you had for rent.

They said meals were provided three times a day—but that was just talk.

The day shift only got breakfast and lunch. The night shift got lunch and dinner. The dawn shift got dinner and breakfast.

No matter how they arranged it, they only ever gave two meals a day.

The women crammed food into their mouths like their lives depended on it.

If you didn’t eat when you could, you wouldn’t have the strength to work—or even to sleep.

There was a small store, but the owner sold everything at inflated prices. On a factory worker’s wages, it wasn’t a place you could afford to go.

The women had no money. No place to go. And no pride left, either.

They had nothing—so there was nothing to lose, nothing to protect.

I was no different.

No… I was the worst among them.

“Lights out! Don’t even think about making noise! Anyone caught sneaking soju or playing cards is dead!”

Our team’s foreman—who also acted as the dorm supervisor—passed by my side and met my eyes briefly.

It was a signal. There would be a card game tonight.

“Here’s a ten-won bill, and a carton of Milky Way. I’ll keep the change.”

At dawn, I would go to the hidden gambling den the foreman ran in the storage room and do errands. I exchanged money, bought soju, dried squid, cigarettes, and emptied ashtrays.

Most of the time, I stood guard outside the storage room, keeping watch while the game was going on. When it got too cold, I’d slip inside for a moment to warm myself by the heater.

“Lee Chun-hee. If you want to play, join in. It’s the last round.”

I shook my head and stepped back outside. I had no desire to play—and no money to bet. I was there for one reason only: to earn.

Not long after I started working at the factory, I had caught the foreman running the gambling game.

“I’ll keep watch so you don’t get caught. Just give me a cut for the errands, sister. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Well, look at you. ‘Sister’? Where’d you learn that?”

“And lower the monthly deduction from my wages too, okay?”

“Wow… you’re really trying to run a business here.”

“Then forget it.”

I said it like that, but the foreman didn’t seem to dislike me. I was just right for the job—sharp enough to be useful, but not enough to be a threat.

Once everyone had left the storage room and the heater burned out, my work was done.

On my way back to the dorm at dawn, I lingered around the factory, breathing it in.

The sour, papery smell clinging to my hands reminded me of stale urine. The moldy scent drifting from the storage room was sharp and acidic.

I liked it.

It wasn’t all that different from the stench of my old home or the Mia red-light district—but I still liked it. Not because the factory itself was good. It was just that I had finally escaped the h*ll I had lived in my entire life. The thought alone made my eyes sting.

But no matter where you went, there was always a different kind of h*ll waiting.

From the factory break room, faint light and low moans seeped out.

A man and a woman.

“Supervisor… it hurts.”

“Stay still. I haven’t even put it all in yet.”

Most of the supervisors who managed the foremen were men, and they made a habit of preying on the newly arrived girls.

The women—without money, without homes, without pride—gave in easily. And in return, they were allowed to slack off during work.

“Pathetic bastards. Filthy pieces of trash.”

Some girls resisted, trying not to get dragged into it—but most of them lifted their skirts willingly, just to make their lives a little easier.

I had thought that once I left the red-light district, I would never see people like that again.

“Pathetic bitches.”

I struggled desperately not to look like someone who had lived among prostitutes and been sold into a brothel because of debt. But there were all kinds of people here, just as broken.

Still… they were better off than me.

At least they didn’t know what a brothel really was. And maybe they never would.

The communal washroom turned into a battlefield every morning. It wasn’t written anywhere, but if you took more than five minutes, you’d be cursed at from behind.

Especially for someone new like me, washing your hair was out of the question.

“Hey! You at the front, hurry it up!”

So sensitive over nothing. I had barely even splashed water on my face.

It wasn’t like I was washing waist-length hair—just a bit of soap on my face and neck. Yet they made such a fuss over it. Just another pointless way to assert control.

I ignored them and kept washing. At the factory, I knew when to keep my head down—but in the dorm, as long as I didn’t break any rules, I didn’t need to care. As long as I stayed on the foremen’s good side, that was enough.

Just as I was lathering up, a woman suddenly grabbed me by the hair.

“Hey, you b*tch! You think you own this place?”

I knew who it was the moment I heard her voice. She was the most senior among those standing behind me.

“Let go.”

“Look at this little brat—no fear at all?”

“I’ve got plenty to be afraid of. But you? Not one bit. I’m warning you—let go, before something breaks.”

When she didn’t, I lunged straight at her waist.

She fell hard onto the washroom floor, gasping—and I jumped up, stomping down on her hand again and again. The women around us screamed.

“They say if your hand or arm breaks here, you’re fired on the spot, right? Guess you’re confident you won’t lose your job?”

I grabbed a washbasin and hurled it at her.

Soapy water splashed all over her.

The empty basin clattered loudly across the floor.

The entire washroom fell into a tense, frozen silence.

My eyes burned from the soap, but I didn’t show it.

“Try making a scene over someone washing up one more time!”

I turned on the faucet, rinsed my face roughly, and walked out.

“Ruined my morning, d*mn it.”

All through breakfast, the foreman laughed loudly, retelling what had happened. She had never liked the woman I stepped on.

“She couldn’t even become a foreman, yet she still acted like she was better than everyone else. She got what she deserved.”

That woman had been at the factory just as long as our foreman, but had never been promoted. They said she took it out on the new girls, picking on them relentlessly.

Just another bitter old hag.

“Anyway, that Lee Chun-hee—she’s something else.”

After we finished eating, the foreman gave my shoulder a light tap.

“Hey. Starting today, want to switch to sanding?”

“Sister… could you let Gyeong-seok do it too?”

I slipped a cigarette between her lips, lit it for her, and spoke carefully, watching her mood.

“Gyeong-seok?” the foreman repeated.

“Next to me…”

“Oh, that mute girl?”

“Do whatever you want.”

The foreman said, blowing out a stream of smoke.

When I winked at Gyeong-seok, she gave a quiet smile.

Sanding paid a little more.

It felt like I was repaying her—even if only a little.