The Dropped Jackpot Ticket (4)
What the hell should I do? That was the first thought that hit me when I saw the fallen first-prize lottery ticket.
Think about it. The winner had come to the Nonghyup Bank to claim the prize, only to get dragged away right in front of me by those black-suited thugs. And he'd dropped the winning ticket on the ground.
In a situation like this, wasn't the answer obvious?
"Ahem, ahem! Uh-hum! Ah, even if you're in a rush, how could you drop something like this... ahem."
I slunk over sheepishly and snatched up the ticket in a flash.
Yoo Hwa-yeon's sharp gaze pierced me.
"Store owner...?"
"What? Huh? I-I just picked it up. Yeah."
"Then why are you sweating bullets like that?"
"Wh-what sweat? It's hot."
"It's autumn right now."
"Puhaha! Hey, d-does autumn not get hot? Is autumn some cold season or what?"
What the hell was I saying? Me.
"What are you gonna do with it?"
"Obviously pay off the convenience store debt..."
Oh crap.
"Oh ho. Gonna gobble up an ownerless lottery ticket?"
"......"
"I never pegged you for that type, store owner..."
"Yeah! I was gonna take it! So what! Honestly, anyone would be tempted, right? I get suddenly dumped into this shitty world, barely eating properly, starving my ass off, and now I'm finally starting to make a little business! Some asshole comes pretending to be a customer and smashes up the store, another swings a sword around causing chaos. Don't I deserve to pay off my debts and live a little brighter too?!"
Screw it. All the pent-up frustration exploded out of my chest.
Why was I the only one getting pissed off like this? Because of the thief thought? Ah. Self-loathing incoming. For real.
Yoo Hwa-yeon stared at me with wide eyes, then stammered.
"N-no, that's not what I meant..."
"I don't care how you saw me. Doesn't matter. If you wanna think of me as some shameless thief, go ahead. It's not exactly wrong."
I spat out bitter words for no reason. I had to degrade myself like that just to feel a bit better.
"Split it halfsies?"
"...I'm fine."
"Got it. Then I'll handle this myself."
I took the first-prize ticket back into the convenience store.
Beep— I scanned the barcode, and the POS screen lit up with the prize payout button, blinking insistently like press me already.
Meanwhile, the dragged-off Baek Jin-yong.
"Pl-please spare me! Please!"
"Shut up! Boss Lu said to plug the hole with your body. They're short-staffed over there lately—perfect timing."
"Th-that side? People?"
Baek Jin-yong, eyes blindfolded, was led into some space. Damp, foul stench wafting around. Was this shit? Ammonia tang too. Where the hell was this?
"Plenty have died off here."
"Don't remind me. The screaming for mercy was insane."
"Pissing and shitting themselves, total chaos."
Baek Jin-yong swallowed hard. No way— the organ trafficking he'd only heard rumors about? "Plug with your body" meant that? The shit and ammonia from terrified people facing...
"H-heeek!!"
Baek Jin-yong freaked out and collapsed.
The Manokru warriors running the gambling den were all unorthodox fighters. He'd always thought unorthodox meant ignoring justice, doing whatever the hell they wanted, unlike the orthodox sects. They looked no different from regular street folk on the surface.
But now? Organ trafficking seemed totally plausible for them.
How did his life twist into this mess?
Tears soaked the blindfold over Baek Jin-yong's eyes. As a kid, he'd hustled hard. Roaming markets, learning survival from beggars, hopping gambling dens to pick up money-making tricks from adults. He knew it was bad, but it was all he knew to survive.
Then, one day, he'd dirtied some sect warrior's clothes and got beaten senseless as punishment. An old master passing by saved him, introducing himself as a Wudang elder. That was his second parent, the one who got him into Wudang: Dao Bong-jin.
After that, Jin-yong quit gambling and begging. Traded ragged clothes for clean robes, dirt-clod rice bowls for a straight, long sword.
To Jin-yong, Dao Bong-jin was like a father. So restarting gambling now wasn't a big deal. He had to repay that grace somehow—even if it meant diving into the muck.
But repay? I'm about to die instead! Organ trafficking! No way!
"H-hey, folks. It'll just take a sec. Untie me quick, I'll bring the money right away."
"What're you on about?"
"That paper's really worth 100 gold bars! You guys get duped your whole lives or what!"
"How's a scrap of paper 100 gold bars? Even if paper's pricey..."
Jin-yong shook off the mocking warriors' grips and shouted.
"Fine! Untie me now, and I'll give you 30 each."
The murmurs hushed.
Did it work? Bought them off? Probably blinded by greed, debating among themselves. 30 gold bars could snag a merchant caravan's fortune. No way they'd pass...
"300 not possible?"
"I'll take 600."
What? 100 total...
"You idiot. Better I take all 100 than deal with a gambler like you. Why risk it when I can have 'em safe? And a paper scrap worth 100 gold? Quit the bullshit and get in there!"
A vicious kick from behind sent him tumbling down the stairs.
"Argh!!"
Baek Jin-yong tumbled head over heels multiple times.
He didn't want to die. So he dropped to his knees, begging desperately.
"Please!! Just spare my life!! Euheheng!!"
Then, tap tap—someone patted his shoulder.
"H-heeek!! Who's there! Come closer and I'll shatter your dantian with my organ technique ri..."
"Hey. Take off the blindfold."
"...Huh?"
"Sigh. Another big catch."
Slip—the blindfold came off.
The world Baek Jin-yong faced was...
"Hey! Kim! Your shit pit's spotless this time—boss is raving!"
"Damn right! Built up a shit tolerance."
"Good on ya! Heh heh."
The outhouse cleaners' quarters. Baek Jin-yong gaped in shock.
"Plenty died here..."
"Well, cleaning shit pits—folks bolt. We just say they 'kicked it.'"
"Th-then the pissing and shitting chaos was..."
"Ugh, don't ask. Newbies puke their guts out first time. Stink's brutal."
Baek Jin-yong plopped down where he stood. Relief sapped his leg strength.
Not dying—thank god. Alive—thank fucking god!!
As joyful tears flowed, the approaching Kim said,
"You ain't crying 'cause you're happy to be alive, are ya?"
"...Pardon?"
"Heh. Kid. Living's worse than dying here. Wanna taste the real hell?"
"...Ee?"
"Follow me. Rare newbie, so I'll teach ya slow—one step at a time. Start with dipping your feet in the shit pit~"
Ah, wait no. Hold up.
"S-save meee!!!"
The next morning.
"Lu-ju."
A door adorned with golden patterns. Countless candles and lanterns flickered with their own lights.
Seated before a mirror, Cheon Hyang—Manokru's mistress in flowing white silk—turned her head at the sudden voice as she slowly brushed her fine hair.
"A guest wishes to see Lu-ju."
A guest. Cheon Hyang lifted her deep, beautiful eyes to peer through the door's paper screen at the man's silhouette.
She rose gracefully, her slender jade hands retrieving a red garment from the wall. Her pale fingers glided over the silk sash at her waist, as if blooming dark plum blossoms bloomed on the fabric with each touch.
Finally, hair neatly arranged, Cheon Hyang sat behind a small table and parted her solemn lips.
"Let him in."
Creeeak—the door opened, revealing none other than Jeonghyeon.
Cheon Hyang recognized the man instantly. She never missed a cute or handsome face.
"Our second meeting, right?"
"Didn't think you'd remember."
"I tend to, in my line of meeting people."
Jeonghyeon was tense as hell. What balls did I have coming here? To a place crawling with cutthroats.
"Gonna stand and talk? Sit."
"Ah, yes. Sure."
Jeonghyeon and Cheon Hyang sat facing each other across the small table. The awkward silence dragged, so Cheon Hyang poured pre-brewed tea.
"Not here just for tea, I assume."
"Nope."
"What's up?"
Jeonghyeon plunked the lottery ticket squarely on the table. Cheon Hyang eyed it curiously.
"Worth 100 gold bars."
"This scrap? Some merchant voucher or what?"
"If that's easier to swallow, sure."
Cheon Hyang sipped her tea without breaking eye contact. Handsome guy. Even as an innkeeper, those eyes hinted at a story—irresistibly charming.
She didn't trust handsome men. Their every word dripped arrogance.
But this one was different. Resolute gaze. Ragged breaths from nerves. And the dumb choice of hauling 100 lost gold bars straight to Manokru.
What's so special about that paper?
If it really was 100 gold, he shouldn't be here. Cash it at any merchant, vanish where no one finds you, live free.
But he didn't. Pretense? Laughable heroism? Or masochistic righteousness?
Cheon Hyang set down her cup slowly.
"Hard to believe, but fine. Say it's 100 gold. Then it's even weirder. Why bother tracking down a lost fortune like this to return it?"
Now, what answer? Pretense would nod along; heroism would disappoint; righteousness gets a harsh lesson before boot.
Cheon Hyang smiled faintly, awaiting his reply.
As she reached for her cup—
"Don't want it?"
Clatter! She nearly dropped it.
"What?"
"Just asking if you don't want it. It's your money anyway. Asked your boys outside—ten gold bars in debt? No idea what gambler racks up that much."
What was this guy?
"Why so flustered? Don't want it, say no. Then I keep it, perfect."
Keep what? 100 lost gold bars?
Polite check, and you pass—great. Release Baek Jin-yong, done.
Jeonghyeon stood abruptly. Cheon Hyang panicked, fumbling up to grab his sleeve.
"N-no, it's not that I don't want it..."
"Then just take it—why complicate? Pay the debt, done. Hurry up, store's empty, heart racing. Who knows when more shitheads smash it up."
"Ah, uh. Right."
"Honestly, carrying 100 gold's risky—could get robbed anywhere. Come to the store, I'll hand it over."
Cheon Hyang couldn't think straight. Not purely nice. Not faking nice. Not overflowing with heroism.
Just a guy with clear goals. Decided to pay the debt? Pays it. That's it.
What kind of freak was this? In the murim world of schemes, fraud, threats, mockery—you faced it all. Always wary of backstabs, never make enemies.
But him? Transparent as glass. Nothing hidden. First time seeing someone so see-through.
Didn't want all 100 solo—awkward. Pay debt, split fair. Smartest way to grab cash without enemies. Straightforward, clever.
In that moment, Cheon Hyang saw Jeonghyeon anew.
"Don't trust handsome guys? Then bring Baek Jin-yong along."
If true, holding him was dumb.
"Hey!"
"Yes, Lu-ju."
"Bring Baek Jin-yong."