Cucumbers Fer Sale

Day 47.

"Boss, boss! I wanna eat that! The round taters!"

"What? Again?"

Our nose-in-the-air elf princess had fallen completely for Korean potato pancakes. This was already the seventh encore.

"All right. I'll make them, so go wash your hands in the wooden basin."

"Hehe, okay!"

Today was the day Elia went down to the Free Market, so he had decided to indulge her. It was absolutely not because Minhyuk wanted potato pancakes too.

Anyway.

First he grated the potatoes. With a kitchen knife? A carving knife? No—with a grater bought from the Survivor Shop for three coins.

Yeah. Nothing beats a tool made for the job.

On the first day he had spent three hours trying to somehow scrape them with a kitchen knife before finally giving in and buying the grater. The knife, for the record, had cost five coins.

He seasoned the shreds with a pinch of salt, set a five-coin steel frying pan over the heat, and drizzled in a suitable amount of cooking oil—also five coins. Then he deployed the batter: one hundred percent pure potato pancake.

Sizzle—!

While the pancakes browned to a perfect gold, he poured soy sauce into a little wooden dipping dish. The soy sauce, too, had come from the Survivor Shop at five coins.

"Shame we don't have chili peppers and onion to go with them."

They sold sauces. Vegetables, for some reason, they did not.

"All done?"

"Almost. One more minute."

"Okey-doke. I'll get the chopsticks an' the fork."

The chopsticks and the fork were things he had Crafted himself, out of twigs. And with that, a potato pancake into which a great many coins—and a great deal of Minhyuk's care—had gone was finished.

"Mmm~ It tastes like a fantasy."

"And where did you learn a line like that?"

Elia shot a double thumbs-up at the pancake, crisp on the outside and soft within. Minhyuk took a bite of his own and found it entirely satisfactory.

Figures. When it comes down to it, food is all about the ingredients.

For a dish to taste good, the main ingredient has to be exceptional—the way kimchi stew is at least eighty percent the kimchi. These had been made with deserted-island potatoes that Earth's couldn't begin to match. Of course they tasted like a fantasy.

"Nnngh— I'm stuffed."

"I'm going to get some work done, so rest with Kkureung."

Once his stomach was solidly lined with potato pancake, he went out to the field and gave the crops a final look.

The cucumbers and the potatoes were both plump and perfectly ripe.

"……This one's not ready yet."

The cherry tomatoes had set fruit, but they still hadn't turned red. With no other choice, he harvested only the cucumbers and the potatoes.

Tok. Tok.

Experience, stacking up nicely.

The Safe Zone's level had climbed with it. It wasn't the thrill of the first time he had brought down a Hard Iron Boar. Still, there was a pleasure all its own in growing something a little at a time.

"You sellin' taters this time, too?"

"Yeah. We've got more than we can eat now."

The yield had grown enough to put potatoes on sale. Not too many. About twenty.

And the verdict……?

Ooh. Not a bad little margin. Sell them all, and that was eighty coins.

"I'm off. Byeee—"

"Yeah. Do well today, too."

The moment Elia left for the Free Market, Minhyuk opened the Survivor Shop.

A balance that had grown nice and fat before he noticed. Their living arrangements, however, had not changed at all. Green in every direction, and nothing else. In practice he was hardly different from a vagrant eating and sleeping on a beach.

A Survivor Shop, though, changed the conversation.

"How about I fix this place up so it looks like somewhere people actually live?"

Eyes bright, Minhyuk threw himself into the interior.

……Meanwhile.

The outside world erupted at an announcement broadcast across the entire Tower.

Humanity, no less than the other races, was thrown into enormous confusion.

"The 777th floor?"

"H-how is this possible……?"

"A Hard Iron Boar? What kind of monster is that? Haven't we found anything?"

Second place in the race between the races to climb the Tower. The gap with the elves out in front, currently running the 137th floor, was a mere two floors.

A quiet sense of superiority had settled over them for it—the feeling of holding the advantage in the climb. There had been a measure of relief as well. Through their informants, they had been steadily keeping track of how the other races were faring.

And then, out of nowhere, a first-achievement announcement had rung out from the 777th floor. No wonder it felt like a slap to the back of the head.

"Elves? Demons? Who the hell is it!"

"What about the other races? Anything new?"

"Damn it……!"

The 777th floor of the Tower. The legendary land every race longed to reach—Eternal Island. To dig up anything on the player who had set foot on that golden island, Hexagon's staff drove ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their intelligence network at full capacity, day and night. Which is to say, the staff were ground down without mercy.

And then they found the decisive clue.

"A Deserted Island Cucumber……?"

"Could it be this?"

"It's definitely suspicious, I'll give you that……."

A cucumber registered as nothing less than an official item. An unprecedented, outright broken effect: eat it, and your stats rose permanently. Lines like deserted island, the blessing of a special land, cultivated by someone's own hand.

Every word in the item window pointed at Eternal Island. If it weren't that golden island, a cucumber this extraordinary would never have found its way out into the world.

Past reasonable suspicion. Circumstances closing in on certainty.

Elves? Demons? Dwarves?

They couldn't begin to guess the race. But the player who had grown this cucumber had to be the same one who had first struck ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down the Hard Iron Boar on the 777th floor.

"A-analysis! Commission an analysis, right now! Find out who grew this cucumber!"

Commission a Tower NPC for an item Analysis, and you could learn about its maker. The catch was that the results took quite a while. They could hardly sit around twiddling their thumbs until then.

And so Hexagon's people waited for one thing only: for the Free Market stall selling Deserted Island Cucumbers to open its shutters.

"I-it's up!"

The instant word came that it had opened, they moved on the Free Market with three S-rank hunters under Hexagon's command.

"Where? That stall?"

"This way."

Before long, they saw it.

A stall, and a long line of people waiting on it.

"That the one?"

"Yes, sir."

The plan was simple. Interrogate the little merchant. Who had grown the cucumbers, whether that place really was the 777th floor, and how in the world they had reached Eternal Island.

Until every last secret had been wrung out.

"……Let's go."

"Yes."

The hunters made straight for the stall.

"Who are you people?"

"Hey, get in line! Can't you see everybody's waiting?"

The other players in the queue protested.

"We're from Hexagon."

"You. Dwarf. Keep talking if you feel like dying."

Hands went to scabbards, and the customers' complaints died in short order. Just like that, they stood before the little merchant at the stall.

"Hey, kid."

"Hm?"

"Answer while we're still asking nicely. It'll go better for you. These cucumbers—where did you get th—"

That was as far as one of the hunters got.

A chill—!

Killing intent lanced straight through their senses, sharp enough to cut. At the instinctive flare of danger, the S-rank hunter who turned his head had no choice but to freeze where he stood.

The R-royal Guard…… the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠elite knight order……?

In a corner well back from the stall, elf warriors with diamond crests set into their brows stood with eyes wide, bows drawn and trained this way.

For the record, the Royal Guard—the warriors of its elite knight order, especially—were powerhouses who would not fall short of an S-rank hunter of Earth.

They had the numbers, besides. If this came to blows, his side would be the one at a disadvantage.

The elite knight order…… why are they watching this kid……?

The S-rank hunter turned his eyes back to the stall and went silently aghast.

P-Princess Elia……!

So that was why the face had seemed familiar. The only daughter, the one who would one day lead the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠royal house?

No—more than that. What was the princess doing out here?

Wait. This…….

In a flash, the pieces snapped together in the S-rank hunter's head.

Deserted Island Cucumbers come down from the 777th floor, sold in person by the princess of the elves and guarded by the elite knights of the Royal Guard.

Then the first player to reach Eternal Island was…….

Gulp.

Swallowing against a dry throat, the S-rank hunter fled the spot in a hurry.

The elves…… those pointy-eared bastards……!

Right now. He had to get this to Hexagon. Top-grade intelligence.

"Heh. Pretty satisfying, if I say so myself."

Minhyuk smiled, pleased, at a Safe Zone stepped up another notch. It looked for all the world like a nicely appointed campsite: a canopy anchored on four wooden poles, a rack for dishes drawn taut with rope, a cloth pillow stuffed with leaves and soil, a campfire hearth banked out of sand, and a wooden chair that was honestly quite respectable.

All of it handmade from a ten-coin canopy, eight-coin rope, and leftover wood. Not a single thing to find fault with.

Truth is, at first I wanted to make a tent…….

Regrettably, technical difficulties had forced him to give that up. But hey, a tarp wasn't bad either.

"Safe Zone interior—done!"

Time to go clear the jungle.

Ah. Of course. There was something to do first.

"Hoe—!"

As he approached the sea, the sea otter bobbing in the private pool raised a cheerful paw. An outside guest who dropped by at least once a day without fail. If the meerkats were full-time staff, room and board included inside the Safe Zone, then this one was something more like a freelancer.

Anyway.

"Here to play again today?"

"Hoe-hoe~!"

"But what am I supposed to do? Elia's off at her real job, and the meerkats, as you can see, are……."

Curled up in a heap, napping. He stepped aside to show them, and the sea otter's face fell at a remarkable speed.

"Hoeee……."

Why. What. What's there to be disappointed about. I'm right here.

He slid a meaningful look the otter's way, and it carefully held out whatever it had been clutching in its paw.

Not a bribe. A gift the sea otter brought up from the sea once a day, every time it visited. Let's see. Today of all days…….

"……Clams again."

The grand prize: an utterly ordinary sea clam. It served, more or less, as the day's fortune. Still, the clam was meatier than yesterday's, so today could fairly be called a lucky one.

"Thanks. Have a good day."

A light handshake with the sea otter, and then he called the Little Wooden Soldiers and Kkureung and set out to clear the jungle.

"Hup—! Hup—! Hup—!"

A routine he had grown quite used to. Early on they had lost the path and wandered more than once, but by now he had the local geography memorized well enough. He could have reached the cornfield with his eyes shut.

……The problem being that it ended at the cornfield.

Anything past that was too much. Straying too far from the Safe Zone carried risk. The deeper the jungle, the better the odds that a stronger magical beast lay in wait.

And if he went poking around at random, it was all too easy to end up a lost child in a jungle this damn vast. He had considered leaving a trail of pebbles, Hansel and Gretel style.

Hmm…… no.

Frankly, how many nearly identical pebbles did a deserted island have? He would never tell them apart.

"……All right. All troops, halt."

"Hup—!"

And so, once again, the cornfield he had run up against like a line he could not cross. Minhyuk gazed quietly out over it.

Cheep, cheep. Cheep, cheep. Cheep, cheep.

Was it because the giant boar that had claimed the corn for itself was gone? The wild animals hanging around had multiplied by a noticeable margin. The squirrel that had first shown up yesterday was cramming its mouth with kernels off the ground. A deer bristling with caution licked carefully at the corn leaves. And the monkeys that had spent the last few days up in the trees, spectating Minhyuk with wondering eyes—

Fwit—thump.

"……."

Now they were throwing bananas. Had they gone and formed some kind of inner fondness in the meantime?

"Ook— ook-ook-ook—"

The monkeys overhead snickered down at Minhyuk. Ha…… and they weren't even done evolving.

Hey. This prank's getting a little out of hand, isn't it?

This wouldn't do. A moment like this called for one sharp word—

"……Huh?"

Wait a second. Where did you guys get those bananas.