Transferred to the Murim World with My Convenience Store (1)
To modern folks, novels are like close friends. Even while pulling night shifts at the convenience store, I loved reading them. Webnovels on my phone. They contained countless worlds, and I enjoyed wandering through them in my imagination. Among them, my absolute favorite was the martial arts novel Murim Journey. Its gimmick—no protagonist—was its biggest strength. A novel without a protagonist? I thought it'd be boring at first, but there actually was one. It was the narrator who roamed the Murim world, introducing all its martial artists. This unprecedented approach in webnovels didn't catch on right away, but that didn't last. Word of mouth spread as the plot unfolded, and now it's the undisputed number one webnovel—300 chapters complete, over 300 million views. And I was one of those 300 million, leaving comments too. Mostly praise, of course. It was that good. I never got tired of it, already on my third full reread.
Then the notification popped up. The author was prepping season 2 of Murim Journey. My heart pounded like when a favorite game drops a sequel. Bursting with anticipation, I tapped the alert on my phone screen. Little did I know that click would change my life.
My name is Kim Jung-hyun. A pitiful young man doing night shifts at a convenience store when he got isekai'd into the Murim world. Not just anywhere, but as a nameless extra from the first episode of Murim Journey that I loved so much. My reflection in the mirror matched the author's description of that extra to a T.
*Chirp chirp— The birds' morning song rang out, followed by a ding-a-ling— that cut through the Central Plains air like something out of place.
"These damn leaves keep piling up no matter how much I sweep!"
Gritting my teeth in frustration, I grabbed the broom leaning against the side of the convenience store. Just some random extra the protagonist bumps shoulders with, mutters "sorry" to, and moves on. That's me. Sure, the novel had no main character, but if I had to be here, why not as some inner power-wielding young master from a fine clan? Instead, I'm still slaving away at convenience store shifts even after getting isekai'd. Talk about a rough, twisted fate.
Three months since a modern guy like me dropped into Murim. Long enough to get used to everything, right? "But these clothes are seriously uncomfortable."
The rough fabric scraping against my skin never stopped bothering me. Damn it. Who'd have thought I'd ditch all modern civilization for medieval Murim? Not even a street tarot reader or shaman could've predicted this isekai.
Swoosh— swoosh— I gathered the endlessly falling leaves. Sweeping them up gave a clear view of the utterly out-of-place convenience store. Unreal. How was a modern store plopped right in the heart of Murim? No electricity, yet fluorescent lights glowed on their own, the AC blew cool air, and fan blades spun.
It wasn't just because I clicked that season 2 alert that I flew into the Murim Journey world with the store. The floor had shaken right then, stuff fell off shelves, ceiling panels and lights crashed down. Something heavy and blunt smacked my head from behind, I blacked out, and woke up as an extra with the convenience store adrift in Murim's depths. The bewilderment I felt... I never want to relive that.
'Might as well survive somehow since I'm here.' It took a month to think that way. Now I was kinda okay with it, even adapted to my new look. But the issue was strictly survival. No customers in three months—not even a stray cat passing by.
Makes sense. This place was surrounded by bamboo forest, giving off a seriously eerie vibe. There was a village nearby if you pushed through a bit, but even they called this the "haunted forest." No one came here. It kept sword-wielding thugs away from targeting the store, but no money either. A real tragedy.
I had debts to pay. Sure, fresh grads have loans— even stray dogs know that. But I'm a Murim newbie. Debt as a Murim rookie? Even dogs would laugh. What debt? Obviously the convenience store loan.
The store collapsed, respawned in Murim's heart, and I had to foot the bill. Fail to pay, and it gets destroyed. The gaping hole in the store wall proved it wasn't a joke. Miss the monthly payment, and chunks of wall blasted out. Drove me nuts.
Why me? That's what I thought at first. But I changed my mind. It was just me and the store here. To survive off it, I had to own it. Semi-forced or not, gotta eat.
'Any way to make money?' Wasn't my first thought. Tried everything to get back home at the start. No dice. Searched two months straight—nothing. So I gave up, shifted mindset. Even if I returned to the modern world, no one awaited me. I'd holed up in my room, scraping by on store shifts because of that incident. Shook my head to clear the memory. Ancient history now. No one here knows me or my past. Fine by me.
Like anyone shaking off thoughts, I swept extra hard and headed inside. Shelves looked toothless here and there—my doing. Three months of sneaking snacks. No money, but hungry? Had to eat store food.
Warning: If you fail to pay even 10% of the 1 Gold Ingot by the end of next month, the convenience store will be destroyed.
The debt was one gold ingot. How huge? Ramen cost one copper coin. Hundred coppers make a silver coin. Hundred silvers a silver ingot. Hundred silver ingots a gold ingot. Sell a million ramens to break even. Where do a million ramens fall from the sky? Or sprout from the ground? Gotta order stock too—that's five silver ingots in debt. Order, sell, order, sell... for a million bowls? Fuck! Ten years from now, debt only grows. Orders cost half retail, sure, but with no customers, where's the cash?!
Whatever psycho god's twisted game this is, we'll see who laughs last! Anyway, that's why I steeled myself to earn money and survive here.
Great resolve, but... why no customers? Come on already. Anyone but sword thugs.
Ding-a-ling— The frameless glass door swung open. Instinct kicked in—I ducked behind the counter. Why hide when I've prayed for customers? 'Cause if it's a sword thug, customer or not, I'm fucked! Threaten me at knifepoint for goods? No way I fight back. I'd hand everything over in tears. No inner power in me, so dodging blades is best.
Holding my breath, I heard, "H-Hey, shopkeep! Anyone here? What do I do...?"
A boy's young, urgent voice. Mature beyond his years. Peeking out, no sword at his waist. Filthy as coal-dusted, faint shit-stink wafting. Total beggar vibe. First customer in three months. Not a thug. But a broke-looking beggar? Normally, I'd shoo him. But who am I? Even after getting buried by society post-that incident, roombound hikikomori that I was, I donated 20,000 won to overseas volunteer funds. Got a peace ring for it too.
Still, I didn't jump to help right away. That's when I noticed the gravely ill girl with him. Tiny boy carrying her on his back. She gasped like death was near. Stirred my pity naturally.
"Shopkeep! Please! Help us! My sister's sick! Suddenly burning up like fire, coughing like she's dying!"
He spotted my peek and unleashed a torrent of words. So pitiful. I stood and approached the siblings. He set her down gently, tears welling in his big, firm eyes. Silent sobs, hiding from her. How much suffering?
Hand to her forehead—scorching. Soaked in cold sweat, hacking coughs. No doctor, but obvious. The cold—modern folks' best buddy. Classic flu symptoms. And this store had the cure: Daylenol.
I bolted up, grabbed unopened safe meds from the counter. Popped a pill, rushed cold water from the fridge.
"Wh-what's this?"
"This'll make her better."
Tilted her head, slipped the pill in, trickled water slow. More spilled than swallowed, but no regrets. Save the life in front of you first—even if you die tomorrow. I became a hikikomori precisely because I couldn't grasp that.
Gulp— She swallowed the big pill. Feared she'd spit it, but good. Soon, even breaths.
Grabbed a blanket from the shelves, covered her. The boy, who'd watched silently, shot up. Right fist clenched, left hand softly cupping it, raised above his chest. Arch Hand Salute.
"Truly grateful! This grace, I won't forget even in death!"
Speech and manners hinted at nobility. Some backstory? Didn't pry.
"No big deal."
He rummaged ragged pockets, handed something. Five coppers in my palm—clink. Daylenol cost ten. Half price, but I was shocked anyway.
"This is all I have now. But soon, I'll repay the grace! I swear on my family's honor!"
I nodded faintly, staring at the coins. Not much, but money earned. First customer served. It revived my dead heart.
'Even Murim folks could use a convenience store.'
Just grinding for debt payoff before. Desperate for customers, yet wondering why Murim people would come. Wrong. They come because it's Murim. Then... 'I could make a killing!'
Grin split my face. A plan sparked. Plausible enough to pay off the gold ingot and more!
"Wanna repay the grace?"
"Y-yes? Th-that's right."
"Then yell it out."
"...Pardon?"
"There's a hidden master in this haunted bamboo forest!! No—a grand chef! Or some eccentric genius—whatever! Scream it! Kehehehe!"
Modern medicine, food, daily goods—I'll enlighten you all!