Auto-Management Mode Overload

The billion-won apartment we'd just moved into, out in Gyeonggi Province.

To bury every trace of what we'd been doing until now, I'd signed the lease under my real name.

We finished unpacking, handed a drink to each of the movers as they headed out, and then sank onto the brand-new sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"…Am I dreaming right now?"

"…Pretty sure I'm the one dreaming."

A translucent hologram window hung in midair.

A genuine rare item that had never once been released onto the market.

Honestly, the fear outweighed the joy. Even lottery jackpot winners can't sleep until they've actually collected the money — and this was a sum that left that scale in the dust.

More than anything, the thought of listing it on the community auction terrified me. The system's cut alone would be at least half.

Ugh. Just thinking about the commission is making my blood run backwards. That's a hundred billion of my own blood, right there…

Of course, disappointment was one thing. I clicked my tongue and started working the system. A moment later, a massive battleaxe materialized from my inventory into my hands.

Monster hide wrapped the grip — you could tell at a glance it was nothing ordinary — and a faint smell of blood rolled off the crimson blade.

…That's so fucking cool.

For a second I actually considered keeping it instead of selling it. The axe was that perfect. I stood up from the sofa, tested the balance, and swung it through the air a few times.

"Ugh, it's heavy. If I tried to fight with this thing, my back would go before anything else."

I was groaning, about to stash it back in my inventory, when Lee Sieun — who'd been sitting there with her mouth hanging open — slapped both cheeks with her palms and snapped back to reality first.

"A man's word is worth a thousand gold. So how's the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bonus looking?"

The recovery speed of a true slave to capitalism. She tucked her knees up on the sofa, eyes sparkling with expectation.

"Well… it'll depend a little on how much actually lands in my hands after the auction house takes its cut… but I'll give you at least a billion won, I figure?"

"Hah!"

Lee Sieun sucked in a breath and clapped both hands over her mouth.

"Y-you're really giving me that much?"

"…??"

Her eyes were shaking so hard I was the one who ended up more confused.

"Hey. You're happy about a billion-won cut from a sale worth hundreds of billions? Normally you'd run the percentage and call me cheap."

Lee Sieun bounced in her seat, shaking her head.

"What are you talking about? Even that billion is money I'd have to slave away as a Blue Mod for at least four more years to earn if you didn't just hand it to me. Of course I should bow and say thank you. Minhyuk, I'll clean and cook for you for the rest of my life!"

She pressed her palms together and bowed at the waist, her face genuinely moved. That clean, uncluttered attitude. That realistic sense of her own place.

Okay. If I ever actually get married… it's this woman, no contest.

Where else were you going to find a woman this honest about money who still knew exactly where the line was?

I shot Lee Sieun a thumbs-up, then worked the system again and dropped the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠item into the community auction's listing tab. Starting bid: twenty million coins. Duration: three days.

I closed the system window, and hunger hit me all at once. Packing and unpacking since early morning had wrung me dry. The fullness of an item worth an absurd fortune lasted all of a few seconds. I rubbed my stomach and looked at her.

"Today… we just moved, so jajangmyeon?"

"Deal!"

She flashed a thumbs-up, grinning wide.

Not long after, the doorbell rang. We spread newspaper across the living room floor and sat facing each other. The instant I peeled back the wrap, the smell of black bean paste hit us full in the face.

No doubt about it. This house had the scent of a master.

"Alright, pouring the sauce."

"Are you out of your mind? I dip!"

"In this house, we pour. Don't like it… buy your own place and order your own jajangmyeon."

"…Thank you for pouring, Master."

Lee Sieun split her wooden chopsticks without another word and started mixing. A wide living room in a proper new apartment. Jajangmyeon eaten right after listing a weapon worth hundreds of billions on the auction. The taste was outrageous. We inhaled the noodles in silence.

Watching her wipe the black bean sauce from the corner of her mouth with a napkin and spear a piece of sweet-and-sour pork, I couldn't help smiling.

And while the two Blue Mods, courtesy of Auto-Management Mode, spent a thoroughly peaceful afternoon — the Unified World Community was descending into chaos the likes of which it had never seen.

On top of all that, the Brown Bear Paladins of the Russian Alliance and the Berserker Guild of the American West officially declared they were entering the auction as well.

Three days still remained until the auction closed, and already the heads of every faction and the top rankers were locking horns on the boards — a mud fight in all but name, started ahead of schedule. Even the sniping posts, which used to go up by the dozens each day, exploded into the hundreds per minute.

The admin-only interface I'd tucked into a corner of my vision kept throwing up warning windows without pause. Faction conflict was turning into a genuine preview of war inside the Tower, and the community — drowning in curses and death threats — was a living hell.

But a living hell on the community. Not our problem.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

"Yes! I win!"

Lee Sieun threw both hands in the air and cheered. I stared blankly at the scissors I'd stuck out into empty space, then sighed and dropped onto the floor.

"Why'd you throw rock? You always throw paper."

"This is psychological warfare. Cleanup duty for the jajangmyeon bowls was on the line. You think I'd be dumb enough to throw the same thing every time?"

She wiped a smear of black bean paste from the corner of her mouth with a napkin and smiled, infuriatingly pleased with herself.

I was genuinely annoyed.

I started gathering the empty bowls scattered across the floor and the plastic containers where the sweet-and-sour pork sauce had already started to dry. In the corner of my vision, the system admin window was still pumping out overload warnings. For a second I wondered if I should step in, given how hard the system was reacting…

I'm the one who caused this. Showing my face would only make it more dangerous.

With that, I shut the community screen completely. The grand matters of world order and dimensional collapse were, at present, less important than the recycling sitting in front of me.

"Hey, Lee Sieun. Do I need to rinse the sweet-and-sour pork container before throwing it out?"

"Obviously! If you toss something covered in grease, the security guy at the recycling station will chew you out."

"Ugh, what a pain."

I stacked the empty bowls and headed for the sink. I turned the tap, and lukewarm water poured out with a rush. I squeezed dish soap onto a sponge, scrubbed halfheartedly, and glanced over my shoulder. Lee Sieun was already sprawled star-shaped across the new sofa, patting her belly.

An auction for a blood-soaked battleaxe with hundreds of billions of coins in play. The snarling leaders of otherworldly factions and Earth's top rankers, promising to kill each other. And the culprit behind it all, Blue Mod 3, was currently—

"Hey. Stop wiggling your toes on that sofa. You're kicking up dust."

"The first day after a move, you're supposed to do absolutely nothing. So you handle it for me, Blue Mod 3."

—grumbling as he scrubbed the grease off jajangmyeon bowls in the kitchen of his new apartment.