Dungeon & Commander (230) - Flames of Inheritance
“Father?”
“Like it?”
“Huh?”
“Pacheonhyeon Armor.”
“What about Mom?”
“What? You still don't get it?”
Choi Min-su stood with his hands behind his back, facing his baffled son.
“Did you save Mom? Who kidnapped her?”
With a heavy sigh, Choi Min-su pulled out his phone and dialed a number. He then handed it to his son.
“Take it.”
Choi Muhyun accepted the phone with trembling hands.
“Son.”
It was his mom!
“Mom? You okay?”
―Bet you got a scare today. I told him no, over and over, but your dad wouldn't let up. Anyway, congrats on becoming the owner of Pacheonhyeon Armor. Don't hate me too much, okay?
She hung up first.
Only then did a word flash into his mind.
Bad-luck charm.
Choi Muhyun slowly turned and glared at his father.
“Hahaha, no father in history has ever pulled off a bad-luck charm like this. You should be proud to have me as your dad.”
Saying nothing, Choi Muhyun stepped up to the Pacheonhyeon Armor, placed his hands on its shoulders and chest, and poured in his internal energy. The armor absorbed it and began equipping itself smoothly, enveloping his sturdy frame.
It truly was armor worthy of a Cheonhondan pillar—supremely comfortable and powerful.
“How's it feel? Like it now?”
“Thank you.”
With those words, Choi Muhyun unleashed Geumgang Fist at his father.
* * *
He'd probably been caught by at least one speed camera—maybe two. A flash had gone off, and the photo would likely show his grinning face like some maniac.
The whole drive to Insadong, Yoo Min-jeong's heart raced.
What item had her father prepared for her? What effects did it have? What changes would come from wearing it?
Insadong wasn't just packed with big item department stores like Palace of Mages; it had plenty of quaint little shops too. Not everything was an item store, though.
Traditional antique shops still held their own, exuding old-world charm.
Stepping out of her Ferrari, Yoo Min-jeong headed toward a rundown building.
“...This must be it.”
Would her dad really leave an item here?
The address was clear, so she pressed on. At least the lights were on. And the name was bizarre.
Hodgepodge Everything Store.
The sign alone would scare off any antique enthusiast.
Yoo Min-jeong tilted her head.
It felt oddly familiar. She'd seen that sign before. When had she been here?
She knocked on the door.
Footsteps approached from inside, but the door stayed shut. Instead, a cuckoo popped out from the clock and spoke like a parrot.
The voice triggered vivid childhood memories.
One name came to mind.
No Sebin!
Among her father's friends, No Sebin was the one whose eccentric antics made even "crazy" sound tame. He owned the Hodgepodge Everything Store.
More memories flooded back.
The store was infamous for its pricing. The same item could cost pennies for one buyer and a fortune for another. A worn hairpin sold for ten thousand won yesterday might fetch a million today.
As a kid, she'd often come here holding her father's hand. He had many friends, and quite a few—like No Sebin—had no ties to dungeons.
To enter, she needed the password.
Luckily, the one No Sebin had taught her—long forgotten until now—sprang to mind.
“Balnibarbi.”
“Ding dong dang!”
A click echoed, and the door swung open on its own.
Smiling, Yoo Min-jeong stepped into the dim passage.
As a child, she'd mumbled "Balnibarbi, Balnibarbi" just because it was fun. Much later, she learned it was the name of a bizarre country from Gulliver's Travels.
The land of mad scientists—perfect for No Sebin.
At the passage's end, the door opened without a touch.
Beyond it, Yoo Min-jeong was speechless.
A scholar in a wall scroll winked at her. An angry woman washing her hair by a stream hurled a stone at him.
It hit him square in the eye socket.
A plugless vintage turntable whirred to life, playing music. Empty—no LP—yet smooth jazz filled the air.
Gnarled lanterns flickered like Christmas lights.
As if reading her thoughts, the turntable switched to "Silent Night, Holy Night."
An old book in the corner floated up, opened, and fluttered like a butterfly. Circling her, it brimmed with blush-worthy illustrations.
A bronze nude statue began dancing like a club bunny.
A pine tree in white porcelain swayed in an unseen breeze.
A traditional medicine chest's drawers popped out rhythmically, like dull percussion.
Then, footsteps from within.
The store fell silent.
“Knew it was you.”
No Sebin approached, his magnificent white beard striking. He gave Yoo Min-jeong a light hug.
“Been well?”
“No tails on you?”
“None at all.”
Yoo Min-jeong stifled a laugh.
He'd said the same thing to her as a kid. Villains might be tailing them; stay alert.
Looking back, No Sebin was a hardcore conspiracy theorist.
He linked every little rumor to grand plots with a grave face. But in person, he was always upbeat and fun.
“Looks like the Puritans figured out who I am. Clever bastards. To fool them, from now on, call me 'Sebin oppa.' Got it?”
“Got it, Sebin oppa.”
First-timers might find the slightly unhinged owner baffling, but she was so used to it she could enjoy it.
“Oh, what's that?”
No Sebin spotted the document envelope in her hand.
Yoo Min-jeong handed it over.
He glanced between her and the envelope, then slapped his side and burst out laughing.
She waited patiently.
“At last! At last! The day has come. A successor to me, No Sebin, guardian of this world! Yoo Min-jeong, are you ready to protect it with me?”
“Yep!”
Playing along felt like stepping back into childhood.
“Uahaha, perfect! Your worth as guardian is proven. Follow me to the Guardian's Room.”
No Sebin strode toward the scroll of the winking scholar—now bruised-eyed—as if a passage lay there.
“That's...”
Whoosh.
He passed right through the wall.
Yoo Min-jeong jumped.
Only his head poked out.
“Guardian, muster your courage and follow.”
“Ah, okay.”
She reached out tentatively.
No wall. Just air.
Closing her eyes, she stepped forward. The air freshened, like a post-rain forest.
Looking around: soft moss underfoot, fireflies twinkling in an ancient woods.
“This way.”
No Sebin beckoned.
A small cabin stood ahead.
Inside, Yoo Min-jeong was stunned again. Swords, shields, armor, necklaces, rings, gloves—items everywhere.
The space was vast, far beyond the exterior.
No Sebin held out the envelope.
It floated up like a feather, tore into three pieces, and scattered.
Glowing shards landed on different items.
A red armor rose, drifting toward her.
“Oriana's Red Flame Armor has found its owner at last. Congratulations, new guardian.”
A light touch from No Sebin, and it opened, enveloping her effortlessly.
Comfortable despite the fit.
Next, a ring with a red gem.
“Oriana's Red Flame Ring.”
She extended her index finger. But it slid onto her middle one. Intense heat surged.
“Agh!”
It burned like a scald.
“Pain is proof of growth. Enjoy it, guardian.”
Last, a necklace: red metal chain.
“Oriana's Red Flame Necklace. A fine piece, fitting for a guardian.”
As it clasped around her neck, armor, ring, and necklace vibrated. Red light poured out, enveloping her.
Yoo Min-jeong knew what it was.
Item Resonance.
Set items harmonizing.
Then, the ring slipped off.
The necklace followed.
Only the armor remained.
“Tsk tsk. Sadly, the Red Ring and Necklace don't approve. You'll need to grow stronger.”
Yoo Min-jeong wanted to crawl into a hole. Rejection by the armor too would've been mortifying.
Now she understood why her father never mentioned it. Without meeting the Spirit King or contracting Salamander, even this red armor would've spurned her.
They exited the cabin.
Back to the store.
No Sebin patted his chest.
Getting the hint, she pressed near her solar plexus. Mana drained, and the armor folded with clicks, shrinking to a hexagonal plate over her heart before vanishing inside.
Folding Armor.
“Guardian, the fate of this world rests in your hands.”
Still dead serious, No Sebin.
Yoo Min-jeong eyed the store owner.
He wasn't a Raider—never had been. Yet he'd built this place and crafted mighty items. No ordinary man.
No Sebin was a genius.
How had her father met him?
No Sebin's eyes turned silver.
“You've got your eyes on Don Quixote, eh? Heh heh, chasing an impossible dream will be tough.”
The voice wasn't the jovial middle-aged man's... but a sinister old woman's.
She knew who Don Quixote meant.
Kim Jun.
Was he truly chasing the impossible?
No Sebin vanished inside.
The store sprang back to life.
Ignoring the scholar's leering gaze, Yoo Min-jeong stepped out.
It felt like a wild dream. If not for Oriana's Red Armor in her chest, she'd dismiss it as one.
She walked a bit.
She already knew how far Kim Jun aimed to climb.
Association President. The pinnacle of the Raider world.
Maybe impossible.
Alone.
What if another Don Quixote joined him? What if countless did?
Still impossible?
Yoo Min-jeong turned back, reentering the store. To claim the rejecting ring and necklace.
She'd pull all-nighters if needed. Not a step outside until they were hers.