The Dwarf's Soul and Voices from Afar
The day after catching the wild pig, every meal in the Hidden Space was samgyeopsal—pork belly. Grilled directly over the flames on a grate, it was a cheat code in itself. Even without a sprinkle of salt, the juicy meat and savory fat delivered heavenly flavors. And with that signature smoky char from the direct fire? Out of this world!
Of course, samgyeopsal demanded ssam veggies and rice. Han Ji-woo had lettuce and perilla leaves. Dipping the pork in ssamjang, layering it on fluffy steamed rice, and adding a slice of chili? Perfection.
The pets were all thrilled too—no burnout over three meals straight. Osgeelro Haiban, lost in his armor forging frenzy, barely had time to taste anything, just scarfing down the ssam wraps Ji-woo prepped for him.
Sunset came and went, dawn broke again.
“It’s done!”
With that triumphant shout and a victory pump, Osgeelro collapsed into a deep sleep. Han Ji-woo carried the dwarf—out cold like a corpse—to his room, then inspected the fruits of his labor on the floor.
The full-body armor named Red Dragon Bone Armor gleamed pure white, its stats off the charts. It seemed to adjust to the wearer’s body, just like Ji-woo’s Black Hatchling molt armor.
This wasn’t possible with blacksmithing skill alone. Osgeelro’s Blacksmith’s Hammer skill drew on mana, infusing magic into the crafting process.
After admiring the bone armor for a good while, Ji-woo set it down. There were fifteen pieces total. But on one side sat a sheet of dark salt paper with a long message in Dwarvish script.
Though it was his first time seeing the letters, Ji-woo read them effortlessly, translated into Korean in his mind.
—To the chef—
Now this grueling task is nearly complete. The fifteen armors born from my hands are, I dare say, my ultimate masterpieces, forged with my very soul. And this is no mere metaphor. Take it literally.
We dwarves, when crafting our life’s greatest work, truly breathe our souls into it. So every single one of these fifteen armors carries a piece of my soul.
……And as payment, I’ll fall into a deep slumber.
Ji-woo’s eyebrow twitched as he read that far.
“……What?”
He’d started with warm fondness, but now unease crept up from his chest.
The soul means life itself. Life means the days I have left to live.
Having infused my soul into the armor, I’ll live a deathlike existence for that span. That’s why I must sleep so deeply.
I don’t know when this sleep ends. If luck’s with me, maybe a month. But who knows? Years? Decades? Or back to the earth forever.
So, to prepare for the worst, I wanted to say my farewells via this letter.
“What the hell is this?”
Ji-woo scowled, pressing on.
I couldn’t say it before, but thanks to you, I got a new life. These short days here were priceless, irreplaceable.
That ugly goblin, the fat lizard, the sly earth dragon—they kept things lively. Your daily meals? Mind-blowing. Crafting dragon bone gear? The pinnacle of dwarven glory.
Without you, my life would’ve ended in the Dungeon Prison. Experiences I’d never have known.
……Sorry for saying this so late. If I don’t wake, I’ll remember you even in death. Truly…… thank you. So much. My eternal friend.
“……”
Finishing the letter, Ji-woo’s eyes welled up. He bit his lower lip until blood beaded.
Every bond formed here was precious to him. Alone in this unknown place, the fear and loneliness of those early days had been eased by his new pets and Osgeelro.
So the dwarf’s words—maybe the last—hit harder than expected.
“Hoo.”
Letting out a long sigh, Ji-woo stored the armors in his Inventory. One had Dwarvish engraving on the breastplate: “Jiu”—his name. Osgeelro had set it aside for him.
“……”
Fondling it silently for a while, Ji-woo opened his equipment window.
He’d only learned about the equipment window last night. He unequipped the Black Hatchling molt armor to his Inventory, slotting the Red Dragon Bone Armor in its place. It equipped on his body instantly—like a game.
Now he could equip or unequip gear with a thought. Super convenient.
Thinking that, Ji-woo trudged over to the 2-pyeong hut where Osgeelro slept. In the center of the Hidden Space loomed a nearly complete 30-pyeong wooden mansion. He considered moving the dwarf there, but the roof wasn’t on yet.
This dungeon had an open sky—rain was possible. Even so, he lacked the guts to barge into that grand place.
Standing blankly at the door, blinking for ages, a soft whisper escaped Ji-woo’s lips.
“Thanks, Osgeelro…… Don’t sleep too long.”
Sensing their master’s sudden gloom, the pets playing far off came rushing.
“Master! Your face looks bad! What’s wrong?”
“……That’s when you say ‘you look pale.’”
Nyaang? Quruk?
“It’s not because of you guys. Don’t worry.”
Forcing a smile, Ji-woo opened the Dungeon Shop.
The Dungeon Shop Item Display Status Window appeared in midair. He filled empty slots one by one with Red Dragon Bone Armors—fourteen in total. Then pondered what else to add.
“Maybe some swords?”
Ji-woo could craft Single-Horn Steel Swords. His chicken coop had 6 hens and 8 chicks. Growth Acceleration made the single-horn chickens lay and hatch eggs at insane speeds.
Anyway, he needed their horns for the swords. They only grew fully when the birds matured, so he had just 6 available. Two had been harvested earlier for his and Pao’s swords, but they’d regrown.
“Pao, yank all their horns.”
“Got it!”
Opening the crafting window, he combined 180 steel and 360 fire flower petals into 6 steel swords. Then combined those with the 6 horns for 6 Single-Horn Steel Swords.
“Perfect.”
Grinning proudly, he displayed them in the shop too. He had no idea the dungeon folk’s gear level, but hoped it helped.
Then, out of nowhere—an achievement message.
◈ Manifest your voice in the Dungeon Shop for 2 minutes.
◈ Communicate with anyone present.
◈ Tear to activate.
A card floated into existence. Ji-woo snatched it, checking the info.
“……”
His mind exploded like fireworks.
Communication? With the dungeon folk?
Even limited to 2 minutes, it was huge. He’d never spoken to them directly. After so long isolated, the chance thrilled him.
He nearly tore it right then—but paused.
Are they still at the shop?
They’d said three days. Today was the third. Probably still there.
But test the waters first. Wasting it would suck.
Especially since……
“……Not a single sale.”
The new armors and swords sat untouched. If folk were there, they’d snap them up.
“Maybe sleeping?”
Morning now, possible. He left the display window open, waiting for signs.
* * *
14x Red Dragon Bone Armor sold!
+14 Dungeon Coins acquired.
“Sold!”
Ji-woo, who’d sat staring at the display mat, bolted up. For an hour, he’d fed the pets breakfast and done nothing else. Heart heavy from Osgeelro, no sales souring his mood—this was rain in drought.
He ripped the Dungeon Shop Voice Manifestation Ticket!
Han Ji-woo's voice will manifest in the Dungeon Shop for 2 minutes.
Communication possible if customers are present.
Swallowing dryly, he spoke slowly.
“Uh…… can you hear my voice?”
Silence.
Growing anxious: “Is no one there?”
Then—a voice in his ear.
—Are you Han Ji-woo?
A man’s voice—elevated but grave, stiff.
“Yes, that’s me.”
Suddenly, voices erupted in a cacophony.
—The real Han Ji-woo? The one who helped us?
—Jonathan, he’s your friend?
—Yeah. Don’t call him by name, Jonathan. Rude.
—You twins are ruder!
—Shut up before I blow your heads off!
—Whoa whoa~ Yui. You’ll scare Ji-woo. Wherever you are, we’re always grateful. I’m Josh McConnell. Thank you.
—Amen.
Hearing the bustling voices, tears streamed down Ji-woo’s cheeks unbidden. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes, lips tight.
Connecting like this? Immense comfort.
Steadying himself to continue—a familiar yet new woman’s voice.
—Ji-woo. Have you…… ever been called ‘Monster’ back in Chuncheon?