Prologue
The Hero, Kwon Hee-jin.
When he was first summoned into this world, his reputation was rock bottom. People were practically ready to demand a refund from the Goddess herself.
A frail physique? Utterly incompetent swordsmanship?
Truth be told, those were hardly the biggest issues. Most summoned Heroes lacked any meaningful combat prowess at the moment of their arrival anyway. Even blessed with the Goddess's Divine Protection, it took at least several months of grueling instruction before they could be put to any practical use.
Yet even taking that into account, Kwon Hee-jin was an insufferable piece of work.
He slacked off at every turn and skipped training drills as if it were his divine right, all while treating the rest of us like backwards primitives. He would mutter incomprehensible gibberish under his breath, and whenever anyone threw him an irritated glance, he would scoff with a sneer. "Well, what else could I expect from these uncivilized locals...?"
'With skills as pathetic as that, he’ll be lucky to take down even a single one of the Four Heavenly Kings.'
'What in the world is wrong with this generation's Hero? He keeps bragging that his father is a "chief prosecutor," but nobody has the faintest clue what kind of job that's even supposed to be.'
'Did you hear? The Master of the Magic Tower got so fed up trying to speak with that brat that he just stood up and stormed out.'
A thoroughly mediocre talent for a Hero, an arrogant demeanor devoid of the slightest intention to adapt to this world, and a nose stuck perpetually in the air. He hadn't committed any grave crimes, yet he possessed an uncanny knack for racking up universal disdain wherever he went.
The turning point for Kwon Hee-jin came six months ago.
It all began right before his campaign when he inexplicably issued a "commemorative coin."
"I shall soon embark on an expedition to subjugate the Demon King’s army. However, a campaign into the Demonic Realm requires far more capital than you might imagine. As we cannot rely indefinitely on the Imperial treasury, I have resolved to raise our funds independently!"
The instrument of that fundraising, he announced, was a commemorative coin.
Its name was Kodana.
To the naked eye, it looked like nothing more than an ordinary commemorative medallion. Aside from being slightly smaller than a standard gold coin and bearing a shamelessly beautified relief of Kwon Hee-jin's face, it was the very picture of mediocrity. If there was anything peculiar about it, it was that the Hero had personally blessed each piece with his divine power and engraved a unique serial number upon it, rendering forgery virtually impossible.
Beyond that, it served no practical purpose whatsoever. Both faces of the coin bore the exact same design, meaning you couldn't even use it to flip for heads or tails.
Nevertheless, a considerable portion of the Empire's aristocracy purchased the Hero's commemorative coins.
First and foremost, the justification was noble. After all, he claimed the money would serve as war funds to vanquish the Demon King's forces. Past Hero parties were notorious for barging into noble estates unannounced and extorting fortunes under the guise of duty, so receiving an actual commemorative coin in exchange felt downright generous by comparison. And on the off chance—however infinitesimal—that the Hero actually succeeded in slaying the Demon King, the coin could become a prestigious collector's piece: undeniable proof that high society had united to back the crusade.
Having amassed an abundant war chest through Kodana, the Hero Party set off on their expedition amidst the roaring cheers of an immense crowd.
A genius sorceress, a Saintess, a female knight, and an elven archer.
With the sole exception of the Saintess, the roster had been selected based on pretty faces, curvaceous figures, and intact maidenheads rather than combat capability—though frankly, past Heroes had operated much the same way. That was just how Heroes tended to be.
Following the departure ceremony, the public promptly forgot about the Hero Party for a time.
Traditionally, a Hero's campaign was a sluggish, grueling slog that dragged on for years. Naturally, no one expected dispatches back home over every minor pack of beasts slain along the trail; a crusade only made headlines if one of the Four Heavenly Kings was brought down.
Kwon Hee-jin, however, took a radically different approach. Even after his departure, the citizens of the Empire received regular updates on his exploits.
This was because news of the Hero Party was published on a near-daily basis in the Imperial Capital Gazette, the Empire's sole newspaper, fed directly by the Hero himself via communication scrying orbs.
Running a headline in the capital's paper just for clearing out a few stray orcs.
He donated a massive sum to the financially strapped Holy Kingdom, hiring a detachment of holy knights and priests to bolster his ranks. While past Heroes were known to hire luggage porters, an arrangement on this scale was completely unprecedented.
Yet no one raised any objections. After all, the ranks of the Demon King’s army were steadily thinning. Before long, public opinion began to shift, favoring Kwon Hee-jin over the stoic Heroes of the past who had vanished into the Demonic Realm for years on end, enduring grueling forced marches in total silence. Some even engaged in sudden bouts of soul-searching, lamenting, "How could we have been so foolish all this time?"
Thanks to that, public sentiment regarding Hero Kwon Hee-jin turned overwhelmingly favorable. The infamy he had accrued from his early insolence was washed completely clean.
Yet as Kwon Hee-jin's fame skyrocketed, an unforeseen consequence followed.
The price of the Kodana coins issued by the Hero began to climb at a terrifying pace.
When it first appeared, Kodana had no fixed market price. You simply offered Kwon Hee-jin whatever "goodwill donation" your purse could spare, and he handed over a few Kodana coins in exchange. Yet at some point, Kodana began trading on the open market.
A few foreign aristocrats with collector habits were willing to shell out exorbitant sums to acquire Kodana. Several lower Imperial nobles who were strapped for cash leaped at the opportunity, happily parting with their tokens. Once a few high-value transactions closed, demand exploded. The trading had proven that the asset possessed real, liquid value.
It wasn't just nobles who coveted Kodana, either. Wealthy merchants who had built fortunes in commerce jumped into the fray, and even veteran members of past Hero parties bought in, claiming they wanted to show support for their hardworking juniors. With each passing day, the price of Kodana climbed ever higher.
Eventually, bizarre rumors began to swirl around the coin.
Rumors circulated that keeping a blessed Kodana on your person would ward off disease and illness (there were even whispered claims that it cured premature ejaculation). Rumors spread that once Kwon Hee-jin vanquished the Demon King, Kodana holders would receive lavish rewards from the Empire—with commoners even being granted hereditary peerages. Before long, wild whispers claimed that the boundless hoard of treasure within the Demon King's Castle—treasure no living soul could even confirm existed—would be divided proportionally among Kodana holders.
Of course, these were completely baseless fabrications.
Yet once the wildfire spread, reining it in was an impossible task. Not a single soul knew where truth ended and fantasy began. Amidst the ever-swelling frenzy of speculation, only one thing moved with absolute certainty: the price of Kodana.
Six months ago, upon its initial issue, a single Kodana could be obtained for one million liras—just slightly more than an Imperial guardsman's monthly wage.
Four months ago, it shattered fifty million.
Two months ago, even offering a hundred million was no guarantee you could acquire one, a surge spurred by the Hero Party successfully slaying one of the Four Heavenly Kings.
And roughly two weeks ago, the price consolidated around 250 million liras, maintaining a steady, bullish plateau ever since.
A mere six months after its debut, Kodana was already revered as the supreme symbol of wealth. Under the fierce insistence of Hero Kwon Hee-jin, exchange houses had even been established across the Imperial Capital and several major metropolises.
How had a coin originally minted under the humble guise of supporting a crusade inflated to such absurd heights? No one truly understood, and frankly, nobody cared to ask. Everyone was far too consumed with anticipating how high the price would climb next.
"It'll hit three hundred million before the year is out."
"No, it'll catch its breath at the start of the year and then blast straight past three hundred million."
"Once they close in on the Demon King's Castle, four hundred million will be child's play."
It felt as though no one talked about anything other than Kodana. Anyone holding even a few coins was an untouchable king, basking in the raw envy of the masses, while those who had missed the boat forced hollow smiles to mask their burning jealousy. A few grumbled that the world had gone completely mad with coin mania.
Yet I,
Eric, a third-year member of the Imperial Royal Guard, harbored no complaints whatsoever about this madness. I felt neither left behind nor burdened by righteous indignation.
Why?
Because I was a Kodana holder.
And not some petty retail investor scraping by with one or two tokens, either—I was one of the single biggest whales in the entire Empire.
I currently held 108 Kodana coins.
Naturally, I hadn't paid market price for them.
The Imperial Guard Knights I belonged to was the elite order tasked with defending the Imperial Capital. While I was considered one of the finest prospects among our ranks, at the end of the day, I was merely a young regular knight. Born a commoner, I had no noble family fortune to tap into.
The secret behind my hoard of over a hundred Kodana coins was simple.
Back when Hero Kwon Hee-jin was staying at the Imperial Palace for his initial training, I had been shortlisted as a candidate for his party. Of course, everyone knew the Hero had zero intention of choosing a man, but protocol demanded that candidates be recommended strictly on merit. Besides, being a commoner, I possessed the rugged constitution needed to endure an expedition into the Demonic Realm.
Those days spent with Kwon Hee-jin were, to put it bluntly, sheer agony. Knowing full well I had no chance of being selected, I still had to act as the Hero's personal punching bag and sparring partner. Towards the end, I was even dragged into the distribution process for his Kodana coins. Perhaps he figured that a knight of the Imperial Guard was trustworthy enough to run errands, because he worked me to the bone with menial chores.
The Kodana coins I now held were my payment for those chores.
Truth be told, it was closer to him dumping the leftover coins he hadn't managed to sell onto me. It was hush money to keep me from lodging a formal complaint after he worked me half to death, only to select Millia—a female knight of thoroughly mediocre skill—as his party member instead.
"Let's just announce that you withdrew from the Hero Party of your own accord. I'll give you these instead."
He had shoved the coins into my hands, and I had accepted them with feigned reluctance. If push came to shove, I figured I could always melt them down for scrap gold and break even.
Six months later, however, my opinion on Kodana had done a complete about-face.
"Word is the Hero Party brought down another of the Four Heavenly Kings. Apparently, they crushed the Beast King."
Just today, another piece of golden news had arrived.
Riding this fresh tailwind, the price of Kodana surged in rapid leaps and bounds, effortlessly smashing through the 300-million-lira barrier. I clinked the pouch heavy with Kodana coins, a broad smile spreading across my face. These days, merely glancing at the market price of Kodana was enough to make me feel completely full without eating a single bite.
If things kept going like this, striking it rich was an absolute certainty.
No—I had already struck it rich.
Compared to acting as a human meat shield in the Hero Party while watching the Hero grope his female companions, this was infinitely better.
I offered a heartfelt prayer for our respected Hero's continued health, triumph, and safety, grinning from ear to ear.