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# Chapter 1 – The Fallen American Dream
Pasadena, California, Rose Bowl Flea Market.
Even under the scorching heat of 40 degrees Celsius, where heat waves rose from the ground, Kang Jinwoo's breathing
remained steady.
“Careful! That’s 19th-century Shaker-style furniture. If even one leg breaks, you couldn’t pay for it even if you sold
your kidney!”
The secondhand furniture dealer, Big Tony, shouted with bulging veins in his neck.
Thirty-eight-year-old Kang Jinwoo hoisted a massive solid oak cabinet onto his shoulder without replying.
The weight, nearly 100 kilograms, pressed down on his shoulders, but his lower body remained as sturdy as a deeply
rooted tree.
‘Shaker style, my ass.’
Jinwoo narrowed his eyes.
That wasn’t an authentic 19th-century piece. It was a replica mass-produced in a Chinese factory during the 1990s.
The cheap chemical smell coming from the varnish was overpowering.
But he kept his mouth shut.
He wasn’t the furniture restorer known as ‘J.W.,’ who had appeared like a supernova in Los Angeles.
He was merely a foreign laborer, earning $150 a day carrying other people's belongings, and on the verge of becoming an
undocumented immigrant.
Thud!
The cabinet settled into the truck bed.
It landed as softly as a feather, without making so much as a sound.
He had placed it at the safest angle, taking the grain of the wood into consideration.
Perhaps it was the instinct of a craftsman who had spent his entire life breathing sawdust.
Big Tony glanced at him and clicked his tongue.
“You’ve got some strength, I’ll give you that. Tch, once you’re done moving everything, go organize the junk over there
in the corner.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jinwoo silently removed his gloves.
Calluses and sawdust covered his palms.
Just six months ago, these hands had been golden hands that Hollywood stars would pay deposits to wait for.
His hourly labor fee had been $300.
In the American antique furniture market, his workshop, ‘J.W. Woodworks,’ had once caused quite a stir.
He had crossed over to America because he hated how Korea treated skilled craftsmen like mere laborers, and he had
achieved the American Dream through his talent alone.
But that dream had ended in a nightmare.
All because of one person...
Someone he had once loved more than anyone.
‘Jennifer. If it weren’t for that demonic bitch.’
His wife, an American citizen, had been meticulous.
She had viciously exploited the fact that Jinwoo's English was poor and that he knew little about America's complicated
tax laws.
The workshop ownership, bank accounts, and even visa sponsorship. She had delayed his pursuit of permanent residency by
putting off their marriage registration.
He had no idea how much of it had been part of her plan, but she had conspired with her lover, an immigration lawyer,
and completely bled Jinwoo dry.
His expensive tools, his workshop, and even the last scrap of property he possessed had been thoroughly taken from him.
The day he was expelled after the court issued a restraining order, Jennifer's mocking words still rang clearly in his
ears.
“You wouldn’t have gotten this far without me. If you hate it so much, why don’t you go back to that wonderful Korea of
yours?”
There was no way he could return.
He had abandoned everything and come here to chase his dream.
If he wanted to avoid starving to death, he had no choice but to do manual labor.
And through this, there was something he needed to accomplish...
‘First, I have to get my workshop back.’
No matter what anyone said, he needed capital to make a comeback.
There wasn’t a single sane person in the world who would entrust work to a carpenter who had neither a workshop nor
tools.
“Phew...”
Jinwoo crouched in front of a box piled with miscellaneous junk.
Rusty tools buried in a mountain of dust, broken chair legs.
They were obviously nothing more than trash.
Then, a worn piece of wood tucked away in the corner of the box caught his eye.
It was a fragment of a broken chair backrest, roughly wrapped in an oily rag.
The moment Jinwoo casually picked it up...
Zzzzt!
It felt as though he had grabbed a live wire carrying high-voltage electricity.
“Gasp!”
Startled, he dropped the piece of wood he had been holding.
His vision spun, and the sky turned yellow. Staggering, he reached out and grabbed the truck bed for support.
‘What the hell was that just now? Static electricity?’
No. It wasn't anything like static electricity.
His temples throbbed as if they were splitting apart. His heart pounded irregularly.
‘Did I get heatstroke? Or could it be... a stroke?’
Fear gripped him.
The stress of the divorce, manual labor, and scorching heat exceeding 40 degrees Celsius.
Given his circumstances, it wouldn't have been strange for him to collapse at his age.
He rubbed his eyes while breathing heavily.
But when he opened them again, he began to question his own sanity.
Crackle— Pop!
The air before him warped like digital noise, and strange blue characters appeared, floating in midair.
【System synchronization complete.】
【Extreme stress is colliding with the latent ‘Spirit of the Craftsman.’】
【‘Eye of All Things’ has awakened.】
“What the... What kind of crazy...”
Jinwoo waved his hand through the air as if trying to chase away an illusion.
But instead of disappearing, the characters followed his gaze and became even clearer.
“I've been under so much stress that I've finally gone insane. All because of that woman, Jennifer... Damn it.”
Cursing, Jinwoo glared at the piece of wood lying on the ground.
He briefly wondered whether he should go to the hospital. He didn't even have health insurance, so this was a serious
problem.
That was when a new information window appeared above the piece of wood.
───────
【Item: 18th-century Queen Anne-style chair fragment】
【Material: North American Black Walnut (Dryness Condition: Excellent)】
【Authenticity: Genuine】
───────
Jinwoo furrowed his brow.
The information was far too specific for a hallucination.
‘18th-century Queen Anne? What a joke. It's just a rotten piece of wood.’
He didn't believe it.
No, he couldn't believe it.
With the intention of checking, he reached out with his trembling hand and picked up the piece of wood again.
He rubbed his thumb over the broken surface.
“...Huh?”
Jinwoo's pupils trembled.
The sensation transmitted through his fingertips. Although the exterior was blackened with grime, the growth rings and
density of the broken cross-section were clearly not those of cheap, ordinary wood.
That distinctive firm yet oily texture.
‘It's really... walnut?’
And that wasn't all.
The angle of the broken curve.
The irregular yet elegant lines, as though they had been shaped with a hand plane rather than carved by a machine.
They were characteristic features of the Queen Anne style, a design traditionally used by craftsmen in the 18th century.
【Internal structure analysis initiated...】
The message in midair changed, and the interior of the wood appeared in his mind as if it had been scanned by an X-ray.
‘Why can I see this?’
Fear, confusion, and professional curiosity became tangled together.
There was one thing he knew for certain. This insane hallucination was more accurate than his own knowledge.
“Phew... Phew...”
Jinwoo wiped his face with both hands.
Whether he was going insane could be considered later...
There was something he needed to check right now.
If this really was Queen Anne furniture, there might be other remarkable items inside the box.
‘Let's check.’
As he waved his hand through the air, his fingertips touched something heavy and cold.
A revolver, so heavily rusted that its original shape was difficult to recognize.
But Jinwoo's ‘eyes’ saw past the rusty metal and pierced through to the wood wrapped around the grip.
【Item: 1860 Colt Army – Custom Order】
【Original Owner: Major John H. Maddox, legendary sniper of the American Civil War】
【Hidden Piece: President Lincoln's handwritten signature is engraved inside the grip.】
【Material: Premium Brazilian Rosewood】
“...This is insane.”
Jinwoo swallowed hard.
Brazilian Rosewood.
A legendary type of wood that was now protected from logging and could not be obtained even with money.
And on top of that, a prized possession of a Civil War hero, complete with Lincoln's signature?
Something like this had turned up here? How could that possibly make sense?
He hurriedly took out his smartphone and typed ‘John H. Maddox’ and ‘Colt Army’ into the search bar.
A post from an overseas military antique forum appeared at the top of the results.
[The Lost Relic: Searching for Maddox's Missing Revolver]
He didn't even need to use a translation app.
The silhouette of the gun in the old black-and-white photograph attached at the bottom of the post.
Although the picture was blurry, the distinctive pattern engraved beneath the barrel and the curve of the grip perfectly
matched the rusty lump of metal in his hand.
The post ended by stating that after Major Maddox's death, the revolver had been stolen while in the possession of his
descendants and had remained missing for over a hundred years.
‘...It's real.’
An artifact that had existed in history and had since disappeared.
But that wasn't all.
The system was providing him with even more information.
───────
【Current Condition (Scrap Metal): $40】
【Estimated Auction Price After Perfect Restoration: $450,000 (Approximately 600 million won)】
───────
‘600 million won? This is insane.’
If this was genuine, it would be more than enough money to rebuild his stolen workshop.
He could smack Jennifer and that lawyer bastard in the face with bundles of cash...
No, perhaps that was too much to hope for, but at the very least, this could serve as the seed money to get started.
Jinwoo instinctively looked around.
Fortunately, Big Tony was busy haggling with another customer.
Jinwoo quickly wrapped the revolver in the cloth again and covered it with some old plastic toys lying around.
He wiped the expression off his face.
He put on the face of a simple-minded laborer, someone too preoccupied with the task in front of him to think about
anything else.
“Boss.”
“What is it now? I told you to leave once you were done working.”
Tony waved his hand irritably.
Jinwoo pretended to hesitate before holding out the box.
“Um... while I was sorting through this, I found some pieces of wood. As you know, carving wood is my hobby. My hands
are itching to practice, so I was wondering if I could take some of it home for practice.”
“What? That trash?”
Tony's eyes narrowed.
He was a hyena who had spent years honing his instincts at the flea market.
A laborer wanted to pay money for trash?
And he knew that the guy was formerly a carpenter.
He had caught the scent of something.
“Give it here.”
Tony snatched the box away.
His greedy hands rummaged through its contents.
His hand began moving toward the revolver wrapped in cloth.
At the moment when Jinwoo's heart shrank with anxiety...
He calmly took the initiative.
“Oh, are you asking about that jewelry box?”
Jinwoo pointed toward an antique jewelry box in the corner of the box. It looked fancy on the outside, but that was all
it had going for it.
“It looks like you thought it was expensive solid mahogany, Boss.”
“...What? This isn't mahogany?”
Tony froze.
Jinwoo didn't miss the opportunity. He took the jewelry box out of the container and, without hesitation, pressed his
thumb firmly against one of its corners.
Crackle!
The material crumbled like cookie crumbs rather than wood, revealing a mass of white sawdust inside.
“This isn't wood. It's MDF, made by binding sawdust together with glue and covering it with a wood-grain veneer sheet.
Cheap Taiwanese stuff from the 1980s. The moisture has caused all the glue to rot. Can't you smell it? That sour,
vinegar-like smell.”
Jinwoo added, driving the point home.
“The technical term is ‘delamination.’ If you use this as firewood, the smell of burning glue will be so bad that you'll
get lung disease while grilling meat. I was planning to throw this into the trash.”
Technical terms, logical explanations, and a fake object crumbling before his eyes.
Tony's suspicion instantly turned into embarrassment over his own ignorance.
“Damn it, who said I didn't know? I was just checking!”
Tony's face reddened as he shoved the box back toward Jinwoo.
“Seriously, what a pain in the ass. Hey! At least give me 20 dollars. And get this out of my sight right now. You can
take your stinking trash with you!”
“Thank you.”
Jinwoo took two crumpled bills from his pocket and handed them over.
For just $20, he had purchased a legend worth 600 million won.
Once he reached a secluded place, Jinwoo carefully unwrapped the cloth bundle with trembling hands.
The heavy 1860 Colt Army.
Red rust and dust that had accumulated over 150 years.
Yet the rosewood grip still concealed an air of noble elegance.
The moment Jinwoo's gaze fell upon the rust-covered barrel, another message appeared before his eyes.
【You have acquired your first ‘Masterpiece.’】
【Unique Skill ‘Restoration of Time’ has been unlocked.】
‘Could it be...’
Flash!
At that moment, Jinwoo's pupils widened.
The object didn't suddenly transform as if by magic.
Instead, a translucent hologram began to overlap the rusty revolver in reality.
It was a strange sight, as though a blueprint had been superimposed onto the real world.
Within the illusion, Jinwoo's hands, or rather his virtual hands, were moving rapidly.
Disassembling the gun, soaking it in a special solution, and removing rust with extremely fine sandpaper.
Thousands of processes flashed through his mind like a panorama.
【Restoration Guide Generated】
1. Disassembly: Main spring tension weakened by 30%.
Maintain a 15-degree angle when removing the pin.
2. Rust Removal: Ordinary acidic solutions are prohibited.
Electrolysis method recommended (12V, 4 hours).
3. Grip Restoration: Three coats of natural shellac finish required.
【Expected Restoration Rate: 99.8%】
“Ha...”
Jinwoo let out a dry laugh.
This was a perfect guideline for repairing the object.
It told him exactly where and how to work without damaging it, as well as which chemicals to use to restore its
appearance to the condition it had 150 years ago.
He had gained an ‘experience’ that made him feel as though he had already restored the gun perfectly once in his mind.
And if Jinwoo, who had once been a skilled carpenter, actually tried it...
‘I can do it.’
This wasn't some vague hope.
He knew the answer. There was no reason he couldn't solve the problem.
【With your touch, you can restore objects to their former glory.】
The system's words finally struck him deep in the chest.
Jinwoo gripped the revolver's handle tightly.
The warmth of the wood against his palm no longer felt like an ordinary object.
It felt like a ‘future fortune.’
And then...
“I can get it back. No, I can restore it.”
The money, honor, and even the life itself that his ex-wife had stolen from him.