The Ju-ddak Treasure Shop! (1)

I placed the potions in the Treasure Shop and dozed off without realizing it. When I opened my eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. The extreme hunger gnawing at me pulled me outside like I was possessed.

I left my studio apartment in a hurry and went looking for a pasta place. I found one downtown. The food I brought back was aglio e olio. Fifteen thousand won for pasta? That’s pretty expensive. I sat down at my desk with a reverent heart and tore open the packaging. The steam rising from the pasta carried the seductive scent of peperoncino and garlic.

“Kiyaaaaah! This is what sex feels like!!!”

There was no such thing as table manners. I shoved the savory, flavor-packed pasta into my mouth, chewing vigorously. Garlic sex! Peperoncino sex! Olive oil sex! This was the reason I’d come back to Earth.

Anyway, once I stepped outside, I could feel the changes even more clearly. While I was gone, Korea had gone through quite a few big and small transformations. The studio I lived in was still intact, but everything within a certain radius around it had turned into ruins. When I asked a passerby, they said a troll had attacked the area six years ago and it was never rebuilt. That explained why the utility bills in my mailbox had stopped coming at some point.

Works for me. No rent to pay. Plus I can browse the gallery without anyone bothering me.

Once I left the ruins behind, I reached the downtown area. The cityscape there was even more ridiculous. Weapon shops, armor stores, and blacksmiths—the kind you’d only see on the Selendar Continent—were openly lined up along the shopping street. Each was run by an awakened owner suited to the business: blacksmiths, alchemists, that sort of thing.

There were no restaurants using monster ingredients. They’d probably tried it a few times before giving up. Smart move. The dishes made from that stuff were completely inedible.

Luckily, there weren’t any open gates near where I lived. Still, I occasionally spotted people who looked like hunters. People walking around downtown with longswords strapped to their backs. Can you even imagine?

Anyway, I finished the last of the pasta.

“Stomach’s full. Time to get back to gallery browsing?”

What the hell? A few clicks and my money had duplicated. At this rate, I might be able to buy a house instead of just eating aglio e olio.

After listing the red potions, I’d registered two more types: mana potions and stealth potions.

Two thousand won each for mana and stealth potions seems fair.

Who the hell charges a hundred thousand won per potion? Back in the other world, I used to carry thousands of them around. I’d listed a hundred of each, and they were already sold out.

The gallery was already on fire.

They’re just ordinary, run-of-the-mill potions. Is this really that big of a deal?

I clicked on one of the posts.

I was about to die to an ogre. I bought the stealth potion from the treasure shop and barely made it out alive…

Now that I think about it, I see this D-rank Porter guy pretty often. The concept of “everyone dies if he joins the party” is wild. Look at how much effort he puts into preparing screenshots.

When you actually look into it, the real old-timers are the ones like this D-rank Porter.

I moved on to the next post.

I’m a C-rank hunter. I just spent nine hundred thousand won at the black market to buy ten red potions so I could hunt a B-rank monster. I had to beg while doing a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pathetic beggar cosplay just to get a hundred thousand won discount. And now you do this… what does that make me…?

So the main culprits selling potions for a hundred thousand won each were the alchemists.

“No way. From now on, all potions will be under ten thousand won.”

Porters were basically just potion carriers in the first place. If you can buy potions straight from the treasure shop and they drop from the sky, then we don’t need tools anymore, right?

Guess it’s about time for me to say hello.

I’d gotten a feel for the general atmosphere, and all the attention was focused on me. Perfect timing for a first greeting.

For two whole minutes, not a single comment appeared. I started to feel a little embarrassed. Do they think I’m just another concept troll? But I have the orange badge, so that shouldn’t be it. Those doubts were soon washed away by a storm of comments that came pouring in.

The gallery was starting to overheat with fresh bait.

Huh? Me?

Just as I was about to write the next post, my eyes were drawn to the new one that popped up.

There was no need to hide information after selling potions that normally cost over a hundred thousand won for just a thousand. But there was also no need to act arrogant about it. Honesty is the best policy.

A sudden silence fell over the comment section.

Then one comment appeared.

The comment section froze again.

Did I say something wrong?

In the blink of an eye, I’d become a concept-troll Ju-ddak. Whatever. It might not be so bad. This is kind of fun too.

The gallery burned with reaction posts and hateful memes in equal measure. I deleted the incoming hate images and spam posts at lightning speed.

“If you don’t believe me, what are you gonna do about it? I get points with every click.”

After recovering some of the points I’d spent selling potions, my eyes finally registered how trashed the room was. A bed covered in dust, a rotting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠desk, a shattered mirror, a toilet covered in mold.

“I guess I should clean up… or maybe buy new furniture first?”

But buying furniture means going outside again. That sounds like a hassle. Earlier when I went out, I saw people doing barter trades. Should I try trading with the downstairs neighbor? Wait, does the downstairs neighbor even exist?

Barter trade?

I dug through the settings I could add to the treasure shop. Of course, changing the transaction method was possible.

“Changing the method costs fifty points. Guess I’ll delete a few more hate memes.”

Now I just had to register items for barter. What should I put up? Potion bait might be getting a little stale.

“They were talking about a golem core earlier. Should I list that?”

“Back when I was the hero, I used to play bowling with my party members using these when I was bored.”

I listed the golem core in the treasure shop. The reactions should come soon, right? Or is it too common?

“Ah.”