A Letter to the Cucumber Mister

Chak— chak— chak—

The Little Wooden Soldiers advanced in flawless ranks and files, crisp as a military review. With that dependable, top-tier escort at his back, Minhyuk strode into the jungle with his head held high.

"Hold. Halt."

Chak!

And if a cucumber that had grown wild in the brush happened to present itself?

Tok. Tok.

He harvested it on the spot.

Like an illegal fishing boat dragging an enormous net through the sea and scooping up every fish in its path, he plucked every cucumber that met his eye.

Hmm... I kind of feel like I've turned into a bandit.

Was it because, until now, he had only ever eaten cucumbers he had grown himself, fair and square? The feeling was strange. Almost as if he had become a plunderer of nature.

"All units—forward!"

Chak!

In any case, he was fortunate. After the Blink Lizard incident, they did not encounter a single magical beast. The march was nothing more than this: advance in razor-straight formation, halt whenever a cucumber appeared, harvest it, and advance again.

This much ought to be plenty, right?

Before he knew it, the gathered cucumbers were more than enough to feed every one of the Meerkat Brothers. Minhyuk was just about to turn the column back toward the Safe Zone when—

"...Huh?"

Red flesh glinted in the brush like rubies. Could this be...?

"H-hold on... everybody stop."

Minhyuk swallowed dryly and crept closer to see for himself.

Whoa... Jackpot.

Ding—!

An unexpected windfall. Minhyuk immediately plucked one and popped it into his mouth.

"Kyah— now that's the stuff!"

Sweet-tart juice burst across his tongue like fireworks. A sharp, vivid flavor that cucumbers and potatoes could never offer jolted his palate awake. When all was said and done, sugar really was king, wasn't it?

And on top of the flavor, a permanent stat increase.

Sense...? What exactly is this stat good for...?

Strength and Agility made intuitive sense. Even without an explanation, he could roughly guess what those abilities did. But Sense? What sense was it supposed to raise?

Taste? Hearing? Sight? Or—don't tell me—something like intuition?

Minhyuk puzzled over it for a moment, then gave a light shrug.

"Well... I'm sure it'll be useful for something."

If it was good for the body, whatever it was, that was fine by him. Besides, hadn't he just found a new food—a single ray of light for a storehouse that had been nothing but cucumbers and potatoes, wall to wall? What was there to agonize over?

Rrrrip—!

Minhyuk yanked the cherry tomatoes up, stems and all. He meant to plant them in the Safe Zone and mass-produce them.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"All right, gentlemen. We fall back."

Chak!

And so Minhyuk returned to the Safe Zone and took stock of the spoils he had brought out of the jungle.

"Hmm. A considerably successful advance, if I do say so myself."

Minhyuk nodded, satisfied. But the more surprising part was that this was not the end.

Rummaging through his things, he drew out the lizard hide he had set aside earlier. Calling it a hide did not mean it looked like a mascot costume. More like... a neatly cut carpet, or perhaps a blanket.

Ding—!

Speaking of which.

"Oh?"

An item with a very attractive effect.

"So I can turn invisible, like that lizard?"

Minhyuk promptly wrapped the lizard hide around himself as if it were a blanket.

Like an invisibility cloak out of a wizard film, Minhyuk's body turned transparent in an instant.

Kkureung...?

Minhyuk had vanished right before his eyes, and a flustered Kkureung peered this way and that. Mischief stirred. Minhyuk reached out and tapped the back of Kkureung's head with one finger.

Tok.

K-kkureung...! Kkureung-kkureung?

Kkureung's eyes went perfectly round, as if he had just seen a ghost.

Minhyuk slipped off the lizard hide and stroked Kkureung's head until he settled.

"It was a prank. Sorry."

He was just too cute. How was anyone supposed to resist?

Anyway. Used right, this thing was going to be huge, wasn't it?

While Minhyuk was off on his jungle expedition, claiming the day's cucumbers and cherry tomatoes along with a mysterious hide, the Meerkat Brothers left behind in the Safe Zone had followed orders and tidied the cucumber-and-potato fields from end to end.

"Ooh..."

Minhyuk rounded his lips in open admiration.

Clap, clap, clap—

It was a sight that drew applause all on its own. The cucumber vines had been neatly gathered off to one side. Not only the existing fields, but the newly expanded ground of the Safe Zone had been tilled clean through, and the seeds had been planted with a precision that might as well have come from a machine.

Is it because they're burrowers who live as a troop?

There was nothing to criticize. The finest recruits in the Safe Zone after the wooden soldiers and Kkureung, you might say. Ah—Wilson, of course, was priority zero, and therefore excluded.

Kkuruk?

With a very high probability, the meerkat Minhyuk took for the troop's leader and eldest sibling tilted his head, as if asking what was wrong.

"Nothing. It's perfect. Keep doing it just like this."

Minhyuk immediately shot him a double thumbs-up.

"Good work, kids. Hungry? Let's eat."

Those who worked hard deserved to eat their fill.

Crunch, crunch—!

In accordance with the iron rule of the Safe Zone, he set out a hearty cucumber-and-potato set meal, and they worked their little mouths at a furious pace, devouring it without a thought to spare. Then, as if to say it was delicious beyond words, they rubbed their heads against Minhyuk's legs and fawned.

Kyurung-kyurung! Kkororong! Kkuruk— kkururuk!

Yes, yes. Of course it was. Who did they think had grown these crops? They were on a completely different level from anything that sprang up wild.

"But that's not the end."

Kyureung?

"Here, right away—"

He was just about to hand out the cherry tomatoes he had found that day, one apiece, as dessert for the hardworking meerkats.

"...A-already?"

Elia was back.

"Boss! I'm here!"

"What? Why are you back so fast? Did... something happen?"

Minhyuk asked, worry creeping into his voice.

How long had it been since Elia left for the Free Market? Not even a full hour. The stock for sale had been the largest yet, and yet Elia had returned to the deserted island in the shortest time on record. The reasonable assumption, of course, was not that she had sold out, but that something had happened and she had come back midway.

"Nuh-uh. Not that."

"Th-then... why...?"

"Hehe, I sold it all!"

But Minhyuk's guess missed the mark in spectacular fashion.

"All of that? This fast...?"

"Yeah! People lined up and bought tons and tons!"

Borne on the customers' fervent support, the stock had sold out in a flash. A deep, fierce joy rose in Minhyuk.

A-at last...!

In this great age of cucumber loathing—had their worth finally been recognized?

The true value of Minhyuk-brand deserted-island cucumbers, almost too good to keep to himself: delicious, good for the body, good for the skin, and good for stats...!

May every customer have a wonderfully agile day.

While Minhyuk basked in that pleasant sense of accomplishment, the system window floating over Elia's head began the settlement.

The sale price of two hundred and fifty cucumbers. Gross revenue: 500 Coins.

Take the merchant's five-percent commission out of that, and the net profit falling to Minhyuk was 475 Coins. A full 190 Coins more than last time...

Ding—?

...Hm? There was still something left?

A tip...?

Somehow or other, his balance had grown even fatter.

Bewildered, Minhyuk asked.

"A tip? What's this?"

"Some mister gave it."

"A mister?"

"Yeah. He said he bought cucumbers last time. Oh, and this too."

Elia held out an envelope. At the same time, every kind of speculation flashed through Minhyuk's head.

Don't tell me it's a cash envelope...? A tip in actual bills, on top of coins? No. He already gave a hundred coins. There's no reason to throw in cash as well. And she said he was wearing a suit. Wait—then maybe... a businessman...? Is this... a business proposal?

Hmm. No matter how he turned it over, he was sure of it. A capable businessman had recognized the true worth of the deserted-island cucumbers and come with an offer to commercialize them.

Heh heh. Whoever he is, his eye is decent enough.

So this was how you rode the royal road. A premium strategy? Or a listing in a department store?

Eyes bright with curiosity, Minhyuk checked what was inside the envelope.

"...?"

What greeted him, however, was not a businessman's tidy proposal.

A handwritten letter, the crooked letters pressed hard into the page.

"First grade... so she'd be about eight now?"

And yet she had said a man in a suit gave it to her. Why was there a handwritten letter from an eight-year-old inside?

Suspicion in his eyes, Minhyuk ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠read on.

The spelling was clumsy and a mess, but the meaning came through whole.

An eight-year-old's story: oil burns on her face, left untreated because the treatment cost too much, then cleanly healed after she ate a cucumber from the deserted island.

And a story of one family getting its precious ordinary days back.

"..."

Having read the letter, Minhyuk silently lifted his face toward the sky. The weather was clear, but his vision was not.

"Hhk... those rotten companies, those sons of bitches..."

The tyranny of the magitech skin-treatment companies was something Minhyuk knew well himself. It had surfaced again and again as a social problem.

They could treat it for so much less... and they still insist on using only the expensive magic stones.

All to maximize the company's profits. Just as a phone company might design a perfectly good device so that its performance quietly degraded once a certain period ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had passed.

Protests had been frequent because of it. He had seen the articles more than a few times. But back then, Minhyuk had been indifferent. He gave them no particular attention and scrolled on past. It was something an individual could not solve anyway. At best, it was a problem of society that would pass by in a few lines of news. Nothing more than one issue among the countless issues of the world.

But now that he had looked into an eight-year-old's story through a letter pressed hard into the page, a feeling quite unlike that old indifference washed over him. Things hidden behind the gray began to show themselves, the way a blurry afterimage slowly sharpens into something vivid.

He could picture some father's despair, sunk down before a door. The cold stillness of a living room seeped into his skin. The days of a little child whose face he did not even know kept flickering through his mind. They ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must have been overwhelming days. Far too much for a child of only eight.

Drip—

A single tear he had barely been holding back finally traced its way down Minhyuk's cheek.

"Ooh? Boss. You crying?"

Ah... damn it. Suddenly this was mortifying. What kind of scene was he making in front of a kid?

"...No. I just yawned."

"Looks like you cried, though? Your nose is red."

"My nose always gets red when I yawn."

Ahem—

Minhyuk cleared his throat for no reason at all and crouched down in front of Elia. Then, quietly, he held out his little finger.

"Elia, let's make just one promise."

"Yeah. What?"

"You know the deserted-island cucumbers? From now on, we only sell them to people whose faces or skin are hurt."

A simple accord. Not for something as light as ordinary skincare, but for those desperate for treatment. He would give them the first right to buy. Back then he had been powerless to do anything but stand by and watch, but things were very different now.

"The cucumbers? All of them?"

"Hmm. That's..."

Minhyuk thought for a moment, then said:

"Just half. So these cucumbers can reach the people who truly need them. The rest... ten per person at most. So nobody can hoard them or resell them."

"Yeah. Got it."

Elia nodded without a fuss. Only then did his heart feel a little easier. He did not know why. Whether it was because this choice might ease someone's pain, or because of a hypocritical satisfaction he was taking in himself for having made it—

"But Boss."

"Mm?"

"What's a face that hurts?"

Ah. She hadn't really understood.

"I mean... the sort of people whose faces look strange? Skin that's red, or mottled, or a nose that's caved in, or a face melting down like lava... anyway, people who look unusual. That's a face that hurts."

"Ohh!"

Once Minhyuk explained it in terms she could follow, Elia broke into a bright smile and held out a cucumber.

"Here, Boss. Take it."

"Huh? Why a cucumber all of a sudden?"

"Your face is weird too."

Oh... Was she messing with him on purpose? The line felt thoroughly intentional.

"Your ears aren't pointy."

"...I don't think that's why you gave it to me."

"Ooh? What isn't?"

A reasonable suspicion flickered through him—was this her revenge for his taking only a five-percent commission?—but he decided to let it go for now.

Anyway.

"You can promise, right? Like a proper merchant?"

"Yeah. Just trust me."

And with that, the Cucumber Accord was sealed. He was about to scrounge up a simple snack for Elia, who had worked hard, when—

Sniff— sniff-sniff—

The meerkat troop sniffed at Elia's scent. At the sight of them, starlight flashed in her eyes.

"K-Kkureung got more!"

The meerkats shrank in on themselves at once.

K-kkuruk...? Kyururuk...?

But when Minhyuk nodded as if to say it was all right, they soon let down their guard and began tumbling about and playing with Elia.

"Hehe, come here!"

They had only just met, and they were already friends. Cute, anyway.

"Well... they'll handle the introductions on their own."

Minhyuk watched the meerkat troop and Elia with quiet satisfaction, then turned his head toward the food stores. From here on, his business lay over there.

The cherry tomatoes he had gathered today. They were delicious even eaten as they were—beyond any comparison with what was sold on Earth. But he knew a way to eat them that was better still. A method he had already proven again and again with cucumbers and potatoes.

Namely, raising them in Fertile Soil and harvesting them himself. More than that, Minhyuk had been growing cherry tomatoes at home ever since elementary school. Which was to say he had a know-how of his own.

So...

"Ptui— ptui— You've just met the right owner."

Minhyuk spat into his palms, a fierce light burning in his eyes.

Cherry tomatoes.

He was going to mass-produce them. No matter what.