VIP Shopping Frenzy

"...This makes the second time."

Jeong Gongbeop, the mid-level administrator of the Horror Survivor Gallery. He sat in the driver's seat of his car, pressing hard between his brows.

"Why do talents always have to be so unstable?"

A deep sigh escaped from Jeong Gongbeop's mouth.

It had been over several years since he'd taken on the role of administrator for the Horror Survivor Gallery. In that time, hundreds—no, easily thousands—of newbie survivors had passed through his hands.

The Gallery was a bizarre entity. Possessing it meant you had the ability to survive at least one horror story on your own. Thus, newbies in the Gallery generally fell into one of two categories.

Those who feared horror stories like madmen.

Or those who overestimated their skills and became arrogant.

Newbies who feared horror stories were at least in decent shape. Sure, some suffered from severe PTSD and couldn't find happiness, but their constant caution boosted their survival rates. Those who made it through eventually became veterans, guiding the next wave of newbies.

The problem was the other type. The arrogant ones who believed they'd survived because they were exceptional. They twisted rules to suit themselves and plunged into serious crises.

In truth, it wouldn't be a huge issue if only they got into trouble. The real problem was their tendency to sacrifice other survivors to escape immediate danger.

Once those cases started piling up, the atmosphere among survivors shifted. Distrust spread, and people began exploiting each other. Humans became each other's enemies.

Who could trust a Horror Survivor Gallery like that? It would just collapse into a dead community.

That's why Gallery administrators always had to stay vigilant. Against the arrogant ones.

Against the trolls who poisoned the Gallery's vibe.

...But who would've thought an utterly ridiculous newbie like this would show up.

He'd been endlessly on guard whenever not in a horror story. Even the undercover mid-level admins had given their all.

He'd thought they'd gotten the Gallery's atmosphere under some control.

A complete misjudgment.

Because Han Yujin had burst onto the scene like a monster of a girl.

The first time he saw her, he'd been genuinely shocked. He'd expected a man in his mid-to-late twenties, but there stood a girl with striking white hair, her age hard to pin down.

This fragile-looking girl had turned the entire Gallery upside down and wrecked a horror story?

Honestly, it was hard to believe. Until he saw her actions.

She entered horror stories.

And utterly demolished them.

She found the rules' weaknesses.

And redefined the entire rulebook based on them.

Survivors who'd despaired at the insane difficulty went wild with excitement, showering her feats with praise.

Watching that, Jeong Gongbeop realized: Han Yujin was a troll.

But not your average troll.

A troll who perfectly rewrote the rulebook—no, the entire Gallery's atmosphere.

She gave defeatist survivors a spark of hope: Maybe, just maybe, we can take on horror stories too.

An infinitely genius-level troll.

"...Of course, it might all be false hope."

Humanity was infinitely frail against the bizarre.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠horrors humans faced were perhaps as insurmountable as humans seemed to ants.

In such a situation, a being who offered hope.

A genius transcending human limits.

Jeong Gongbeop knew what to call such an existence.

Hope.

The hope that would save humanity from this endless, bottomless abyss.

The problem was, light in the darkness drew all sorts of mad insects.

Thus, hope was easily crushed.

Just like all the previous hopes that had vanished so pathetically.

Jeong Gongbeop gripped the steering wheel tighter.

The hope that maybe humanity had gained another light to save it—and the despair that it might lose that light just as easily.

A dilemma.

◆ Unique Company Perspective.

Kim Jah-ha, having failed to target Han Yujin, pulled out a new card.

Item-assisted hijacking.

And conveniently, he'd spotted Han Yujin accessing the shop.

Seoul, Gangnam. Unique Finite Corporation headquarters, 17th ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠floor conference room.

"What the hell are you all doing right now?!"

Bam—

Cha Il-hwan, team leader of Field Team 13, slammed the table.

The employees and section chiefs quickly bowed their heads. Cha Il-hwan was one of the company's top talents, and his temper was infamous.

"Losing one team member is one thing, but blowing 10 billion won and a rulebook revision chance? Do you even know how much damage this is?!"

"At minimum, 17g of A-grade Heteromorphic Crystals..."

"Yeah, you know it! And you just stood there gawking? Did you run into Jeong Gongbeop or something? Letting this slide is insane!"

Cha Il-hwan was raging like a madman.

Truth be told, there weren't many ways to calm him down. Being a team leader at Unique Company was like being the apex predator in a closed ecosystem.

No one on the team knew anyone higher up.

All they could do was grumble inwardly and wait for his fury to subside.

Even section chief Kang Ye-rin, who usually steadied the ship, was nowhere in sight.

"Say something, damn it! What do we do about this?! Don't just sit there—give me ideas!"

In the midst of everyone taking it lying down, one employee boldly stood up.

"We have a way to recoup all our losses, Team Leader."

All eyes turned to him in shock.

Field Team 13 employee. Kim Jah-ha.

Yoo Se-rin, the newbie next to him, frantically tried to pull him down.

"A-are you crazy? Why stand up now? Sit! You're making him madder."

"Shut it. I have a plan."

Seeing him stand tall, the team leader furrowed his brow.

"What is it?!"

"We've already lost 10 billion, and Kang Ye-rin won't fetch much even if recovered. We have to dispose of her, sure."

"So?"

"There's something that can flip all these sunk costs at once. , that's who."

"...The survivor who rewrote the rulebook?"

"Exactly. Not your average brainiac, right? Overturning a horror that scale. Unprecedented in history. Especially as a newbie."

"...True enough."

"If we snag , we can use her, can't we? Then Kang Ye-rin and the 10 billion aren't losses—they're investments."

"Hoo."

The team leader's lips curved into a smile.

It made sense. Even ignoring her newbie status, 's feats rivaled Unique Company's rule experts—at the lead researcher level. Exploiting her would be like owning a golden goose.

"Can you reel her in, Employee Kim Jah-ha?"

At the question, Kim Jah-ha smirked slightly.

"Just leave it to me. But I'll need to use a company item."

The officetel after Jeong Gongbeop left. I checked the link he'd given me.

The link looked kinda... scammy. Like some spam site.

"...He wants me to find a weapon to protect myself."

Rules I could handle, but humans were tricky opponents. And with Unique Company hunting me, whatever their size, I needed to gear up.

Hell, humans might be more dangerous than horrors sometimes.

No plans to die stupidly.

So I clicked the All Things Shop link.

All text in some ancient font, buttons these tacky gray things.

"Hmm."

Honestly, it built trust. Who'd scam with a site this janky?

A few swipes down, and a product list popped up with mismatched photos.

Some mangled translation. The 'g' must be price, right?

"Damn, pricey as hell."

A-grade Heteromorphic Crystals went for about 100 million won per gram, so the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cheapest here started at 10 million.

Curious about exact effects, though. Luckily, descriptions were there—awkwardly translated.

I crossed my arms, deep in thought...

"Ugh, this is annoying."

My chest felt stuffy, so I propped my chin and pondered.

Honestly, a few items had solid uses. Some even tempted me.

But.

Something was missing.

"Discounts."

Yeah. Discounts. Like 70% off or newbie coupons.

That's what makes you smash that buy button!

Right then.

Like it read my mind. Kinda creepy, but whatever.

"Special deal" hit, and dopamine surged. Couldn't resist.

"VIP signup..."

Surprisingly generous: Just verify A-grade crystals.

Click— Snapped a pic of my recent rule-revision crystals on my phone, uploaded.

Alarm popped right up.

Shop page refreshed instantly.

"...Holy shit. Insanely expensive."

All out of my league. Sticking out my tongue, I scrolled down and spotted it.

"Oh!"

Discount! 70% even! But cockroaches for what... Wait, aggro bait? Fill a room and post proof...

Buy now, think later? 70% off!

But time left: 2 seconds—

"...Damn it."

Dopamine crashed, replaced by regret.

Missed deal right in front of me! Rage bubbling from my dantian! Felt like total defeat!

"Fine."

You wanna fight? Let's go.

You messed with the wrong person. I got time.

I'll buy out every limited deal and bankrupt this evil site! They lose 70% each time I snag one!

Grabbed chips and cola, set up bedside. Flopped onto bed.

Battle stations ready...

Wait.

"Jeong Gongbeop said register email properly."

Updated member info.

Then sprawled on the bed, fully prepped for the grind.

Go ahead, time-limited sales? Fine. I'm Bill Gates with time to kill.

.

.

.

A week later. I'd successfully snagged everything I needed on special.