The Spirit Talisman

Jeong Wooseok came stomping toward the laughing Bonghyuk, his face frozen hard as stone.

"Why should I do what you say?"

"You want to clear the 7th floor of Hell, don't you?"

Bonghyuk looked him dead in the eye.

Wooseok could read exactly what those eyes were saying.

You're too scared to set foot in there, that's what.

No lie, no bluff, would avail him here. Somehow, he was certain of it.

Wooseok ground his molars hard enough to crack them.

"And how am I supposed to trust you?"

"Go to the Upper 2nd Floor and fetch the kid's father. He's at the Forgotten Beasts' Castle Site. Then you can trust me."

Wooseok couldn't find an easy answer. What if he truly went in where this man said — and the child's father was really there?

Entering a space of the Tower that someone else had already claimed? It made no sense. And yet if it were truly possible... then maybe trusting this divination wouldn't be such a bad bet after all.

After glaring at Bonghyuk in silence for a long moment, Wooseok finally spoke.

"Fine. I'll take the deal. I'm taking her to clear from the 1st floor up. Four days from now — on the 24th, we hit the 2nd floor."

He strode over to Su-ryeon and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck.

"Follow me. Let's go."

"Oh. Yes? Yes!"

Su-ryeon went dangling along like a kitten hoisted by the scruff, with no idea what on earth was happening.

BJ Doyeon, streaming every second of it, felt her eyes light up.

"This is absolutely huge."

The moment word spread that SSS-rank Jeong Wooseok had appeared, her live viewership — a hundred-odd strong — had begun climbing like crazy. She'd had the stream up for less than twenty minutes, and she'd already blown past 250 viewers. The live rankings were reshuffling by the second.

Doyeon hurriedly edited her stream title.

SSS-Rank Awakener VS the Shaman Who Sees the Future — Whose Word Comes True?!

The live comments came flooding in.

A chance to get Jeong Wooseok on camera. Doyeon could not let this slip away.

"C-could I tag along too?"

Wooseok's refusal was instant.

"No. Waste of time."

"Ahhh..."

Her face crumpled.

The defining trait of the Streamer class was time synchronization.

Inside the Tower, time normally flowed nothing like time outside. Spend a month in there, and sometimes not even a single day has passed by the time you come out. But the moment a Streamer joins a party, the clocks inside and outside sync perfectly.

Wooseok, still striding along, glanced back over his shoulder.

"Four days from now. Come along to the 2nd floor that shaman spoke of. I'll show the whole world whether he's a fraud or not."

"Y-yes! Understood!"

As a rule, how far up the Tower you could enter was capped by your party members' limits. Special classes like Streamer were exempt from clearing the 1st floor — normally the prerequisite for entering higher difficulties. Stick with Jeong Wooseok, and she could get into 'Hell' difficulty itself.

And anyway — she'd get to broadcast that gold-mine moment. She was this close to breaking into a chant of "Long live Shaman Bong!"

She answered the chat the moment it appeared.

"Yes! I'll be streaming it live for everyone!"

Wooseok vanished through the gate with Su-ryeon, then returned with a soft whoosh barely minutes later. Su-ryeon wore the expression of someone with no idea what had just happened.

"The 24th. Two o'clock. Or one in the afternoon. Wait out front."

He set Su-ryeon down and was gone. The crowd immediately swarmed her.

"You cleared the Upper 1st floor already?"

"Y-you actually beat it and came back?"

"You're not even out of breath?"

"That fast?"

"For all we know, ages passed in there."

Su-ryeon blinked and answered.

"Whoosh. Thwack. Boom-boom. Boom-boom."

"...?"

"That was it. And by the time it was done, it was already over, so... I just walked out..."

The onlookers could only stare, dumbfounded. So this was the power of an SSS-rank.

"Did she hack or something?"

"Unbelievable..."

"Triple-S really is built different..."

"Man, I want to ride that bus too..."

And then—

"Anyone else want a reading? Who's next?"

At Bonghyuk's call, the crowd came stampeding right back.

"I'm number five!"

"Can I still get a ticket!?"

"Number six, right here!"

The man holding ticket number five flattened himself against the ground, and Bonghyuk carried on with the readings.

The Awakening Bureau. The Awakener Management Bureau.

A report had landed on Section Chief Jeong Heeju's desk.

Reading through it: someone had been conducting fortune-telling sessions in the Tower lobby. Several Awakeners had filed complaints, suspecting a scam. Section Chief Jeong Heeju's first thought was, People really will flock to anything.

The Tower was a random space. With no telling what awaited inside, people wanted something — anything — to put their faith in. She understood the sentiment well enough, but someone could just as easily get hurt trusting a fortune and walking in on a whim. It was a genuine concern.

Section Chief Jeong Heeju addressed the employee who had submitted the report.

"Let's keep an eye on it for now. There are no victims yet, and I don't believe this falls within anything the law can regulate."

In the past, there had been the occasional Awakener standing around with a sign reading 'I'll tell you what's coming.' But since there was no chance any of them would be right, none of it had ever caused a stir.

"Understood. Although... I did a little digging, and the readings do seem surprisingly accurate."

The employee held out printed screenshots from AwakenersNet. Section Chief Jeong Heeju read through them carefully.

Before long, she said, "Fortune-telling always looks real when you only count the hits. Anyone who takes it seriously is a fool."

AwakenersNet was full of exaggeration and fabrication. Peering into the Tower with a divination? If that were possible, what would anyone ever have to worry about?

A capital-T Thinker, through and through. Section Chief Jeong Heeju did not believe in fortunes.

Chalking it up as the usual clickbait nonsense, she swept the report to one corner of her desk.

"Let me know if anything unusual comes up."

Bonghyuk made it home right after wrapping up the day's readings.

Commute time: one second flat. Could a commute possibly get any better than this? The only problem was that getting to the convenience store meant heading back out again.

"What a pain!"

On the way to the store, he called his mother for the first time in a while.

"Mom~"

"Who's this?"

Unbelievable. Who's this?

"It's Bonghyuk."

"Bonghyuk? Do Bonghyuk? My son, Bonghyuk? Good heavens — Bonghyuk! You were alive!"

"Why are you killing off your perfectly healthy son?"

"You never call, so I just assumed you were dead. One more day of silence and I'd have been sending out the funeral texts."

He didn't know whether to laugh. Mrs. Kim Namsuk, cheerful as ever — even her "I'm hurt you never call" came out like that.

"Sorry. I've been busy."

"Of course. When you're busy, who has time to wonder how their mother is doing. I'm doing fine. My knee acts up a little, the restaurant work is rough, and the blood pressure means pills every morning, but hey. Aigoo. There I go rambling when you're so busy."

"...I'm sorry."

"Are you eating properly?"

"Yes."

"None of those convenience-store lunch boxes. Want me to send you some side dishes?"

"I'm fine. Is Dad doing okay?"

"Your father's your father — same as ever. And you? Nothing wrong?"

"No."

Just then, a voice cut in over the line.

"Oppa!"

"Oh — Bongsuk."

"Minjeong, please! I changed my name over ten years ago!"

His younger sister, Do Minjeong. Born Do Bongsuk, legally renamed — and apparently home for a visit.

"Sure thing, Bongsuk."

"Ugh, you're impossible. Call me Minjeong. And Oppa — come home once in a while. Mom says she hasn't seen your face in over a year. What do you even do with yourself these days?"

"I get by. Anyway, Bongsuk—"

"Minjeong."

"Right. Anyway, I sent some pocket money to Bongsuk — not to Minjeong."

Silence.

"...Huh? Pocket money? From you?"

He still had debt to his name; this was hardly a time to be throwing money around. Still, he'd sold the Tower Coins he'd earned from the readings and sent home 300,000 won. A moment later—

"Whoa. It's actually there?"

"Must have sent it to the wrong person — to Minjeong. Send it back."

"No way, this is Bongsuk! But Oppa. You? Pocket money? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Put ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the kidney on."

As if she suspected he'd gone and sold an organ. Bonghyuk paused to clear his throat.

"Yes. Do Bonghyuk's kidney speaking."

"Both of them still there?"

"Yes. Both are doing very well, thank you."

Committing to the bit gave him a brief case of existential whiplash.

"Hey. It's not organ money, so relax. I Awakened. I can earn money now."

At the word Awakened, his sister's energy shot straight up.

"What? Awakened? As what? Can I quit my part-time job and start living off you now? Should I quit today?"

"It's... a thing. Keep the job."

"What rank?!"

"...F."

"..."

A sigh drifted through the receiver.

"God, Oppa. Have you lost it? Why would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you even Awaken? It's not like it gets you a job."

Like I did it on purpose. I Awakened in the middle of a bowl of ramen — what was I supposed to do about that...

"Well, still, I'm planning to make some money off the Tower—"

At that, Mrs. Kim Namsuk snatched the phone right back.

"Bonghyuk. You're not thinking of entering the Tower, are you?"

"I'm not going into the Tower. I just run a little business in the lobby."

"You must never, ever go into the Tower. Just the other day, the woman next door's friend's son Awakened at B-rank or whatever and bragged about it to high heaven, and in the end he never came back. You absolutely cannot go in. Promise me."

"I'm not going in. Don't worry."

Not that he had a shred of combat ability to his name. Even if he'd wanted to go, he couldn't have.

"Anyway, go have dinner with Bongsuk."

"Don't send money you don't have. Take care of your own health first. Got it?"

"Got it. Hanging up now."

Good grief. This was exactly why he dreaded phone calls.

Bonghyuk hung up, went home, and ate exactly the convenience-store lunch box his mother had told him not to eat. And then—

Ring—

Apparently both of the people he'd read fortunes for had cleared their stages, because experience points had just rolled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in. And a new skill had unlocked.

"Oh!"

Yeongbu — the Spirit Talisman. So he could inscribe talismans now. Beneficial effects, at that. He couldn't seem to pick and choose which talisman he got, but even so — if he sold them on the side while doing readings, wouldn't that make for a tidy little bonus?

Do I just write on plain white paper?

The next day.

Bonghyuk clocked in at the Tower with a notebook in hand. He laid it open and simply stared at it.

Use.

In an instant, the back of his neck went cold. It felt as if someone else had seized his wrist in his stead — and Bonghyuk's hand began to move on its own.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Hanja whose meaning he couldn't begin to guess scrawled themselves across the paper. Strokes he had never seen in his life stretched out from the pen, yet somehow they flowed with the unhesitating ease of characters he'd been writing all his days. The instant one sheet was done, his hand turned to the next all by itself.

Scribble, scribble.

And just like that — ten sheets in the blink of an eye. The last page filled, and the grip on his wrist came loose, sensation flooding back into his hand.

"Phew."

A faint sheen of cold sweat had beaded on his forehead. Bonghyuk turned to Jian, who was setting up her stall beside him.

"Jian-ssi."

"Yes?"

"Could you register these for sale?"

He held out the ten talismans.

"What are these? Talismans?"

"Yep."

"What do they do?"

"What do they do? Hmm."

He recited the skill description word for word.

"'Beneficial effects'... of all kinds?"

Jian tilted her head. Bonghyuk pressed on.

"Well — Merchant classes can open a stall on the AwakenersNet exchange, right?"

"They can. Why not sell them yourself?"

"Because if they're listed on the exchange, they sell themselves even while I'm busy with readings."

Jian took the talismans and turned them over, inspecting them this way and that.

"What price should I list them at?"

"30,000 won?"

"Hmm..."

"List the product name as Bongsindang Low-Grade Spirit Talisman."

Whether they actually worked, he had no idea — but people would probably just write them off as Bongsindang merch. Which was fine by him.

"Sure. I'll deduct the AwakenersNet fee and hand you the rest."

"You should take your cut too, Jian-ssi."

"It's fine. This much is on the house. We're business partners, after all. Just buy me a coffee sometime."

She flashed a grin and fired off a finger gun.

The talismans went up on the exchange, and a moment later—

Today's Bongsindang was just about to open for business when—

"Huh? One just sold."

Jian jumped in surprise.

"Wait, already?"

"Yep."

Now — whoever had bought that talisman.

Two figures stood before a mid-tier gate in guild uniforms stitched with the name [Heavenly Dragon], talismans clutched in their hands — gripped tight from the moment of purchase.

"What's that?"

"This? A talisman."

"Why'd you buy something like that?"

"Eh, it was only 30,000 won, so I figured why not. You know — that Bongsindang place. The one doing fortunes."

"And you believe in that stuff? Must be nice, having money to burn."

"It's a totem, a totem. For the vibes."

Snickering, the man stuffed the talisman into his pocket, and the two of them vanished through the gate.

The scene that spread out before them next—

A grey forest where massive conifers blotted out the sky. Bone fragments underfoot. The breathing of beasts leaking out from between the tree shadows.

A low growl—

Moments later, a pack of werewolves revealed themselves, eyes flashing blood-red. Bodies as big as grown men, and — just as their name promised — claws like iron rakes.

There was no elemental advantage to exploit, no special condition to meet. This was a stage where you tore the enemy apart on pure combat power, or you died.

"Ah, hell. Of all the stages — a physical check?"

The man at the front, Lee Dojun, drew his daggers. The other — the healer, Seo Yuseok — settled into position behind him.

"Bail out?"

Seo Yuseok asked, and—

"Let's give it a shot first."

Lee Dojun's class was Thief. Respectable combat ability, stealth, and trap detection were his bread and butter.

Stages that forced you to bulldoze through with raw strength had never inspired much confidence in him. Still, with a healer at his back, he could at least give it a try — or so he thought, and in that very instant—

KRA-KOOM!

"Gahk—?!"

He had guessed wrong. The Rakeclaw Werewolf's raw strength was more than a Thief's physical stats could handle.

He skidded backward, carving two long furrows into the ground. His dagger arm throbbed, and a sharp ache spread all the way into his chest. And this was hardly terrain where his specialty — stealth — could be of any use.

This really is just a straight brawl check. Time to bail.

The very moment he thought it—

Lee Dojun's eyes went round as saucers.

"Whoa?! What is this?!"