Osgeelro's Two Conditions
Osgeelro, who had emerged from the Salt Mine, laid out exactly two conditions in exchange for granting Han Ji-woo's request. First, make whatever he wanted to eat anytime. Second, strictly follow his workshop instructions.
The moment Han Ji-woo accepted, Osgeelro demanded three fish right away. With a proper sprinkle of salt, of course.
Han Ji-woo immediately ordered Pao to grill them. The goblin had now reached artisan level with fish.
But Osgeelro blocked it.
"You plannin' to subcontract the subcontractor? Do it yerself!"
This was just Osgeelro messing with him a bit. But Han Ji-woo wasn't one to fall for that.
"Really? Pao grills 'em way better than me. I can do it if you want, but the taste'll be just a tiny bit off. If you're cool with that, sure."
Han Ji-woo knew from living together how obsessed Osgeelro was with flavor.
"W-Wait! Yer temperament's as hasty as ever! Tell Pao to grill 'em!"
"Wouldn't dream otherwise. Lucy~ Catch three fat fish and take 'em to Pao. Tell him to salt 'em right and grill 'em tasty."
Nyaa!
Lucy dashed to the lakeside, dove in, and soon three fish arced through the air in perfect parabolas.
She climbed out, ignored the flopping fish on the ground, and shook off vigorously. Then she bolted to Pao, who was chowing down on a watermelon in the distant patch, and whack!—smacked the back of his head.
Smack!
"Ack! Why, why hit me?!"
Nya~aaah!
"S-Sorry for hoggin' the watermelon!"
Nyaang!
"Grilled fish? Got it."
Pao, understanding Lucy perfectly, headed straight to the lakeside. The moment he gripped his kitchen knife—
Fwoosh!
His eyes gleamed with sharp focus.
Shlick! Slice! Shlick-shlick-shlick!
The knife danced in a blur, prepping all three fish in a flash. Osgeelro's eyes went wide at the lightning-fast knife work.
"Incredible!"
"Right? Right?"
Han Ji-woo chimed in. Pao had steadily leveled up his cooking through practice and even acquired the Cooking stat. Fish prep was his specialty now—he could do it blindfolded.
The three skewered fish sizzled golden-brown on the grill over the fire pit. Soon, glistening beauties were handed to Osgeelro.
"Incredible."
Truly impressed, Osgeelro devoured them on the spot, then picked his teeth with a skewer.
"To forge fine weapons and armor, ye need fine materials! First, scrape every usable bit from this Hidden Space o' yers!"
Han Ji-woo dumped his Inventory materials in a pile.
"That's all of it."
He'd always stashed anything promising, so nothing new.
Osgeelro sifted through the heap with a hawk's eye and tsked.
"Tch! Meager—too meager!"
"Can't make good stuff with that?"
"O' course not! Delicious food needs prime ingredients, aye? Gear's no different!"
"Hm."
Han Ji-woo pondered. Osgeelro wasn't one to balk without reason; they clearly needed better stuff.
Then—
Kyurruk?
Kyuuu!
Seibier's cry echoed from the Salt Mine.
"Ah, he's awake!"
Han Ji-woo bolted up and raced over, Osgeelro following.
Kyuuu~ Kyuu?
Inside, Seibier scanned around in confusion, crying out.
"Seibie!"
Overjoyed to see him up and fine, Han Ji-woo slipped into a nickname without thinking.
Seibier zeroed in on his master's voice like a ghost and locked eyes.
Kyurruk!
He flapped joyfully and charged—
Whiiiiiish!
"...!"
"...!"
The insane speed and gust rocked Han Ji-woo stiff; Osgeelro drew his axe.
It felt like a meteor incoming, but Seibier braked perfectly before Han Ji-woo.
Whoosh!
A mini storm whipped around him, battering one human and one dwarf.
No need to check for panty shots this time, right?
Stunned for real, Han Ji-woo thought irreverently as—
Lick lick.
Kyurruk~
Seibier just innocently lapped his master's face.
This was peak adorable lifeform.
"Yeah, yeah, Seibier. Haha. Miss me that much?"
Han Ji-woo stroked his head, feigning calm. Seibier nuzzled closer, loving it.
Osgeelro, stuttering, bellowed.
"D-D-Damn lizard!"
"Osgeelro, you okay? I just find him cute. Haha."
"Quit shakin' in yer boots!"
"...Oops."
After the commotion, Han Ji-woo moved to leave with Seibier. But then—
"Hold up."
His eyes sparkled at something on the ground. He picked up a glossy black glass shard from the debris.
"Osgeelro, what about this? Decent crafting material, right?"
Osgeelro smacked his forehead.
"Agh! Right, that! Aye, perfect stuff!"
The overlooked material: Seibier's broken eggshell.
Crackle. Crackle.
Campfires dotted the Dungeon Shop. The twenty surviving heroes lounged in clusters, relaxing their way.
Some chatted.
"Irene sis, that tunic you made yesterday is amazing. Great defense, comfy, cute design, and bonus Agility? Perfection!"
"No need to worry that much, Lisa."
"Huh? Worry?"
"If Han Ji-woo shares better gear, you might ditch mine. That's what's buggin' you, right?"
"...Oh, that... Yeah."
"I know how kind and sweet you are. But excessive consideration can hurt you sometimes."
"Really?"
"Lisa sister, engrave Irene sister's words on your heart. The dungeon... isn't kind to the soft."
"Got it. I'll remember, Father Dennis."
Others played games.
"Jonathan's seven!"
"Jonathan! Jonathan! Jonathan! Jonath—argh!"
"Hahaha! Illua!"
"Y-Yui! My wrist's gonna snap! And Josh! Why always target me?!"
"Oh, sorry. But don't you think it's 'cause you're always in the way?"
"Hurry up and get hit, oppa."
"Yeah, quit dragging."
"Hoakin! Vivien! You heartless twins!"
Smack!
"Ow!"
Someone was deep in pet play.
"Duduk-i, jump! Good boy! Paw! Foot! Forward rest! Backward rest! Roll left! Roll right! Dragon point individual combat!"
And some brooded in silence.
Seol Ara, Mitchell, and Pierre sat by one fire but were lost in their own thoughts, no words exchanged.
Meat sizzled somewhere; apple-crunching was crisp elsewhere.
As groups chilled, one loner guarded a solitary fire: Andra Marshall.
He'd woken after Yui's gut punch. Still sore, he rubbed his belly with occasional groans—but that inscrutable smile lingered.
Crackle. Pop.
Mitchell snapped from staring at the flames and glanced at Andra. What the hell's that guy thinking? No clue. Definite threat. To eliminate future risks, trial him—kill or spare? But setting precedent invited abuse. All they could do was hope he didn't endanger everyone.
"How much time's passed?"
Seol Ara broke the long quiet.
"Nearing midnight."
Pierre answered.
"Midnight... Will today just pass like this?"
No one said it, but all hoped Han Ji-woo would stock the shop soon. Sincerity moves heaven?
Han Ji-woo has displayed 10 items in the Dungeon Shop.
"Ooooh!"
Wishes granted—ten new items appeared at once.
Everyone rushed to check the shared wares: swords, axes, shields, greaves, helmets, pauldrons—varied, all 1 Dungeon Coin each.
But every weapon and armor gleamed the same deep black. Osgeelro had used the black dragon eggshell as prime material.
"Whoa! These stats are insane!"
Jonathan snatched a helmet, hollering. The Black Dragon Eggshell Helmet gave +70 Defense, +50 HP—and a mid-low monster fear effect at 20% chance.
This option graced every piece—the eggshell's power.
"All have high stats."
Mitchell confirmed. Far superior to Irene's crafts.
"As expected of Ji-woo. Knew it."
"Strictly, Ji-woo just shared—the dwarf made 'em. Astonishing in hours."
"Who cares? All 1 coin—that's key."
"Buying all."
Josh, Pierre, Yui, Mitchell in turn. Mitchell dropped 10 coins for the lot.
Heroes passed the gear around, marveling.
"Truly incredible."
"Kinda deflates me. Our hard-won stuff looks like fireflies to the sun now..."
"Buys us way more lifespan."
"How not to praise Han Ji-woo?"
"Don't say it like that—makes Irene's efforts what?"
"Oops... She gets it?"
All eyes on Irene. She smiled and nodded.
"Heart as pretty as her face."
"Distribution?"
Mitchell answered.
"At three-day end, divvy properly. I'll hold for now."
Nods all around; he stowed them.
Talk of Han Ji-woo's gear lingered. Curiosity grew; they yearned to meet him. He loomed ever larger in their world.
Especially one who wanted it most.
If it's the Ji-woo I know... will he remember me?
Seol Ara.