A Calculated Settlement

Do you know what an inventory is? Like in games, where players store their items and weapons. I have one of those. Not in a game, but in the real world.

I don't know why, how, or for what reason this ability came to me. I don't really want to know, nor do I care. One day, out of nowhere, a thought just popped into my head: Wait, can I put that in my inventory?

You know how it is. Like seeing a piece of fruit hanging from a slightly high branch and thinking, If I jump, I can reach that. It was just like that. A sudden, intuitive feeling: Huh, I bet I can put this in my inventory.

If I hold an object in my hand and focus on putting it in my inventory, it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠simply vanishes. Even if it's too heavy or awkward to lift, as long as I keep my hand on it, I can store it away.

I was shocked at first, of course. The object in my hand just vanished into thin air. I was the one who did it, but I couldn't believe my own eyes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠If you suddenly woke up with an inventory one day, would you believe it? Something in your hand just disappears, and whenever you want to bring it back, you can pull it out from anywhere. It's an absolutely mind-blowing ability.

So, I ran some experiments. How to use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it, how much it could hold, if there was a limit on the number of uses, and what its maximum capacity was.

To put it simply, there's no limit on how many times I can use it. However, there are restrictions on size and volume. The capacity is roughly equivalent to a 28-inch suitcase. Anything that can fit inside a space of that size goes in, regardless of weight. Size and quantity don't matter either. But volume plays a very important role. In other words, if it can fit inside a 28-inch suitcase, it can be stored in the inventory, no matter how heavy or dense it is. It's not an absolute rule, just a rough estimate. For instance, a one-meter-long stick wouldn't fit in a 28-inch suitcase, but it fits in the inventory. So I figured it's based on total volume.

This incredible power granted to me. The more I tested it, the more astonishing it became. How could I make the best use of it? I pondered and pondered. Finally, I made up my mind. I would use it to feed myself and live a comfortable life. Isn't that enough?

I first realized I had the inventory ability three months ago, during summer vacation. The summer of my sophomore year in high school. How had I been living up until then? Literally like a gutter rat. A mother whose face I'd never seen, a father who was barely ever around, and me, abandoned to fend for myself. Does that paint a clear enough picture? My greatest wish back then was to be sent to an orphanage. At least there, I'd get three meals a day. That was all I wanted.

Legally, I had a father, so I couldn't go to an orphanage. But I rarely ever saw the man. I didn't know where he went, what he did, or what his job was. Every few months, he would show up at the house, spend a few days doing nothing but guzzling alcohol, beat the living hell out of me for no reason at all, and go back to sleep. Then, without a single word, he would vanish again.

The electricity, water, and gas were all cut off. We technically qualified for government welfare as Basic Livelihood Security Recipients, but none of that money ever reached me. It all went straight to my father. So, I was living like a literal beggar. When I discovered this ability under those circumstances, how do you think I felt? I didn't dream of making a fortune or becoming a tycoon. No, my only thought was: I just want to eat until I'm full. That was truly it.

Terrified of being seen, I went to a large grocery store and secretly slipped a pack of instant ramen and a canister of butane gas into my inventory. I stole them, plain and simple. Of course, I went to school, so I knew stealing was wrong. I had that much common sense. But back then, I had no choice. I was so starving I felt like I was going to die. I genuinely believed that if I didn't eat right then, I would drop dead.

During the school year, I could at least count on school lunches to get one meal a day. But once vacation started, my food supply was completely cut off. If I get caught, so be it, I thought as I stole. Even though I had practiced beforehand, actually trying to slip things into my inventory with people walking right behind me made my heart race and sweat pour down my face. Fortunately, my practice paid off. I managed to bring the ramen and butane gas home without any major issues. Honestly, nobody was paying attention to me anyway, but that didn't stop me from shaking like a leaf.

The moment I got home, I started cooking. I boiled three packs of ramen at once. Tears almost came to my eyes at this first-ever luxury. Looking at the pot overflowing with noodles filled me with an overwhelming sense of pride. Whenever I ate ramen in the past, I was always left wanting more. I was still hungry, but there was never anyone to ask for seconds, and no one to give them to me anyway. Maybe because I grew up malnourished, my build was incredibly small and frail. Yet, I devoured all three packs. I suffered from terrible indigestion that night, but after that day, everything became incredibly easy.

I started hitting up various grocery stores, swiftly sweeping whatever I needed into my inventory. Shoplifting, it turned out, was a skill ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that improved with practice. After visiting so many stores, I developed a sixth sense for where the CCTVs were positioned and where the employees were standing. I slipped past them easily, gathering supplies from multiple locations. I targeted large supermarkets in particular; they had massive inventories and were generally much laxer with their security.

Thanks to this incredible, miraculous power, I no longer had to starve. That part was truly wonderful. Yet, my life didn't change all that much. Before, I was a starving beggar; now, I was just a well-fed beggar.

I needed money. At the very least, enough to get the electricity, water, and gas turned back on. I did have a part-time job at a convenience store, but apparently, minors aren't allowed to work past 10:00 PM. So, I only worked four hours a day, from 6:00 PM to 10:00 PM, three days a week. Honestly, convenience stores rarely hire part-timers for such short shifts. It's a hassle for them. The owner only kept me on out of pity, using it as an excuse to get some rest himself. He knew about my situation and would occasionally give me expired bento boxes.

But that meager income wasn't nearly enough to survive on. And just when I was stressing over how little I made, even that job vanished. The building owner sold the property to a developer who planned to tear it down and rebuild. Naturally, the owner closed the store, which meant I was out of a job. I desperately needed money.

My ability was to store things in an inventory, not to manifest money out of thin air. If someone handed me cash, I could sweep it away faster than anyone else, but nobody was giving me money. I didn't even have the chance to touch physical cash. It didn't help that almost everyone used cards these days.

So, I flipped my thinking. Instead of trying to put money into the inventory, was there a way to make money using the inventory? No matter how much I racked my brain, the only thing I could do was steal.

I shifted my targets from grocery stores to stationery shops. I went in and swiped expensive pens and high-end items. At first, I planned to sell them to kids at school. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that was a terrible idea. For starters, I didn't have any friends. If a known beggar suddenly showed up with brand-new, high-end gear and asked if anyone wanted to buy it, their first response would be, "You stole this, didn't you?"

So, I turned to Danggeun Market. At least the people on there didn't know who I was. They had no clue I was a parentless orphan getting bullied at school. It was the perfect cover.

But selling things on Danggeun Market was harder than I expected. I thought listing expensive pens at half price would make them fly off the shelves, but that wasn't the case. People had specific preferences. If an item wasn't popular or trending, it wouldn't sell even if it was brand new and half off. And I didn't have the eye to tell what was in demand. How could I, when I had never actually bought anything for myself?

Around that time, a fairly large local grocery store opened in my neighborhood. I had been feeling a bit self-conscious about hitting the same supermarkets too often, so the timing was perfect. The store was spacious, packed with goods, and ideal for my needs. The moment I walked in, I mapped out the CCTV locations and memorized the employees' faces. Lately, I had been feeling like I was lacking protein and iron, so I started taking a few packs of beef. Searing it at home was heaven. Is this the power of Hanwoo beef? It literally melted in my mouth.

After a few visits, though, I noticed the staff looking at me differently. I wondered if I should switch stores again, but then a thought struck me. Wait. Why not use this to my advantage? A settlement. If they suspected me, searched me, and found absolutely nothing, I could play the victim and squeeze some settlement money out of them. I did some research online and formulated a plan.

It's true that I stole a bit more beef over the last few days. I needed the owner to realize merchandise was missing. I needed him to suspect me. I intentionally lingered in front of the meat counter and swiped the most expensive cuts. Sure enough, the owner took the bait hook, line, and sinker. He cornered me, accused me of being a thief, and snarled that he was going to search my bag. On the outside, I acted terrified and deeply wronged, but inside, I was ecstatic. When the old man grabbed my wrist and dragged me away, I felt a rush of pure thrill. I even briefly hoped he would hit me. We were standing right in a spot perfectly captured by the CCTV.

The store's customers gathered around like spectators, and right on cue, the police arrived. Wow, could a setup be any more perfect? I opened my bag right there and let the pre-packaged food spill out. Did people really think my school nutritionist packed that for me? She probably didn't even know my name. Why would she risk her job by giving me leftovers that could give me food poisoning? I had prepared all of it myself.

Ultimately, unable to prove I had stolen anything, the old man was hauled off by the police, and I went along to give my statement. I played the role of the poor, pitiful boy accused of theft just because he was impoverished to absolute perfection. My frail, malnourished frame only made my performance more convincing. And look at that. He's calling me right now.

A 100,000 won coupon? I don't need that crap. I can get as many goods as I want whenever I feel like it—especially from his grocery store. What I need is cash. Cold, hard cash. Money, money, money. The phone rings again. I pick up but remain dead silent. I can feel him hesitating on the other end.

The pot-bellied owner spoke in a firm, resolute tone, as if delivering an ultimatum after much deliberation. Without bothering to listen further, I hung up.

The phone rang again immediately.

Cornered by the student's sharp, logical arguments, Min Baeho lashed out in anger.

A brief silence followed, then a long, heavy sigh.

Hanging up the phone, the student took a large bite of the perfectly seared beef. It was rich, savory, and undeniably Hanwoo. It literally melted in his mouth.