The 30,000-Won Miracle

Shaaaa—

Without him so much as willing it, the talisman activated on its own, boosting his physical stats by ten percent. For Lee Dojun to squeeze another ten percent out of his body at his current level, he would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have needed to climb at least four or five more levels — or land a buff from an S-rank support.

Instead, a single talisman had delivered the very same effect. And it had cost a mere 30,000 won.

Now that was god-tier value for money.

A talisman he'd bought on the purest whim had just saved one of the precious escape attempts on Intermediate Floor 78. A faint glow wreathed his body as the effect took hold, and the surge in his physical abilities was impossible to miss.

Bam! Bam!

He could knock the rake-clawed werewolf's swings aside now. His arms still throbbed, granted.

"Hey! You okay?"

"Yeah! I think I can do this. Just keep the heals coming! Here I gooo!"

Adrenaline came pouring off the fired-up Lee Dojun. He slipped most of the attacks by a hair's breadth, then put his new strength to work — tearing into the werewolf's muscle, severing arteries, letting bloodloss do the rest. To finish it off, he drove his sword through its throat.

Shunk.

The reek of blood flooded his nose as something warm splattered across his face.

I can do this...!

One down. Two down. It was grueling, but he could hold his own. Every exchange hurt, but with heals streaming in, he could endure it. He could clear it. And so Lee Dojun swung his sword on and on, lost in a trance of pure, thoughtless focus.

About four hours later.

"Hah... hah..."

Gasping for air, Lee Dojun crumpled onto the floor.

"Woohoo!!!"

Seo Yuseok — who had been pouring heals into him nonstop from behind — came sprinting over with a yell.

"Holy crap! You're out of your mind! You actually cleared it? Wow!"

Lee Dojun fished the talisman out of his pocket.

"Seriously... this is the thing that saved me..."

Across the talisman's red-inked patterns, a stamp reading "USED!" now sat smack in the middle. Like it was some two-bit gift coupon.

Price: 30,000 won. Effect: beyond imagination.

"Ha. Haha."

The laughter just came out.

"Yuseok. This talisman is insane."

"What even is this thing? Whoa."

"The second we're out of this Tower, I'm sweeping up every single one they have."

The two of them returned from the Tower buzzing, logged into the online store, and searched for the talismans. There were still nine left in stock.

He typed in a quantity and hit Purchase—

I can only buy one a week?

Unbelievable... He sank to his knees on the spot.

Jian was in the thick of getting ready for the day's business when something strange caught her eye. She had never configured any such thing, yet a purchase limit had attached itself to Bonghyuk's spirit talismans of its own accord.

What is this?

Presumably some item-exclusive property. Anything touched by the Tower was shot through with unknowns; everything was a riddle. And when that happened, all you could do was nod and accept it. Jian gave a shrug and turned to watch Bonghyuk, seated beside her in the middle of a reading.

The longer she watched him, the more of a wonder the man was.

At first, it had only ever been what would spawn on a given Tower floor. But now—

"You've got lucky water. The second water shows up, you go absolutely wild."

"Oh — yes, that's my specialty. How did you know?"

"One look and I see everything. Second attempt on Advanced Floor 28, and you were planning to go in with your guildmates tomorrow, weren't you?"

"That's right!"

"Don't go in tomorrow. That floor will wither you dry. Three days from now, at the hour of the Monkey — three to five in the afternoon — a waterway will open on Advanced Floor 28. Go in then."

"Oh, really? So we can't clear it tomorrow?"

"You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can."

"Huh? Then why...?"

"Three go in. Two come out."

"I'm sorry— what?!"

The man's face drained white.

"Wh-what?!"

Watching it all unfold, Jian clicked her tongue in spite of herself. He could see even that?

He really is something else.

And then—

"Hold on."

Bonghyuk's eyes narrowed to slits.

"...?"

"The waterway'll open and you can clear it, fine. But something's off. You gripping your chopsticks like a fist?"

The man cocked his head, baffled.

"N-no? I was raised with table manners drilled into me and everything..."

Tsk. Bonghyuk clicked his tongue.

"You'll be leaving a finger or two behind."

"Urk?"

The man clutched his own hand.

"Sh-should I go next time instead?"

"No need for that."

Bonghyuk turned to Jian.

"Recommend me a pair of gloves. Steel. No other options needed — just enough to take a man-eating fish's teeth."

— rattling it all off in blunt, rapid-fire bursts.

Jian scrambled, carefully picked out a pair of gauntlets, and held them out.

"How about this one!?"

"Those'll do. Take them along."

"I-I'll buy them right now!"

Whatever Bonghyuk recommended sold on the spot. True, seventy-five percent or more of the net profit on every sale flowed straight to Bonghyuk — but gauntlets like those were toxic dead stock that never moved otherwise. Moving them was pure gain.

And on top of that—

"Could you show me a few potions as well?"

While he was at it, other things found their way into the cart too, and from where Jian stood, grinning ear to ear was the only possible response.

"That comes to 2.4 TC for everything~!"

The payment came through. Including the potion sales, Jian set aside seventy-five percent of the 0.72 TC margin — she was voluntarily peeling off Bonghyuk's commission for him.

If it weren't for you, none of this would have sold.

That was a rule she had set for herself, and she meant to keep it.

One more person was grinning ear to ear: BJ Do-yeon, streaming away beside Jian with her tripod set up.

Just two days after snagging Shaman Bong, her subscribers were closing in on ten thousand, and every stream pulled in more than five hundred live viewers. She had come a long, long way from the days of five thousand subscribers and a hundred live viewers — and every time she went live, Do-yeon hyped Bonghyuk up for all she was worth.

"Wow, Shaman Bong, this reading even worries about your fingers. He could've just said 'you'll walk out alive' and left it at that. Intermediate Floor 78: clear it for the price of two fingers — you going in, or not?"

Even once a reading wrapped, Do-yeon kept fielding and tossing back so the audio never went dead, and her hosting drew plenty of praise. Her subscriber count kept climbing — and riding the same wave, Bonghyuk's stock price was soaring.

The next customer was a young woman.

"H-hello!"

She knelt and bowed low.

Bonghyuk gave her a sidelong once-over.

"Why'd someone who doesn't even enter the Tower come here?"

"Oh? You don't do readings for people who don't climb...?"

"I do. And one look says your trouble's your class."

Her eyes went perfectly round.

"Yes! That's exactly it. My class advancement is right around the corner. I'm a Blacksmith, and I can't decide whether to specialize in weapons or in armor..."

Every class passed through a rite called advancement — the forging of one's class traits into something sharper, keener. For a Blacksmith, the class tree branched every which way: weapons, armor, accessories, enchanting, and more.

"Hmm..."

Bonghyuk stared at her, hard. Heat rushed up through his head — whoosh.

Clang. Clang. Clang—

The ring of a hammer on iron. A furnace glowing furious red. Heat soaking into his skin. Sparks burst in every direction, and with every strike the crimson blade took shape. Then came the hiss of quenching, and plumes of bone-white steam rose thick and hot.

There was no hesitation in the woman's hands as she worked the blade. A born talent.

"You forge weapons well. Swords, especially. Good quality, good money — people will beat a path to your door. First-rate stuff."

The woman's face bloomed into a wide smile.

"Oh, really? I was actually leaning toward weapons anyway. You hit it right on the head. Hehe, thank you!"

She was about to stand — and then, out of Bonghyuk's mouth, a voice like gravel came scraping.

"...?"

"The fate of a soul run through by a weapon of its own making."

"Wh-what?"

At those words, everyone watching the reading held their breath. The chat froze solid.

What Bonghyuk's eyes showed him: someone in the Tower lobby, frothing with rage, driving a sword into the woman's chest. A wet gurgle — she vomited blood and slid slowly to the floor.

"You'll be the one who forges the blade that severs your own lifeline. What good's a fat pile of gold then?"

"...That can't be true..."

Shock was written all over the woman's face.

Bonghyuk carried on with the reading.

Armor, on the other hand? It took ages to earn recognition, and success came late — she would have to wait a long, long while. But regulars would come. People would praise her work. And someday, she would save a life.

"If you want to live long, make armor. You'll earn a little less, and success will come late — but one day, you'll be a master artisan."

"Ah... might you have misread it? Why would I be run through by a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weapon I made..."

Bonghyuk's stare sharpened.

"The choice is yours. I only deliver the warning."

"Uuuh..."

The woman rose with a shadow settled over her face.

Getting a reading didn't dissolve every worry. Sometimes it only dug them deeper.

With a long sigh, the woman left her offering for the reading and got to her feet.

Two more readings later, the day's fortunes were done. As Bonghyuk hauled himself up and stretched out the kinks, Jian came over with a coffee.

"Caffeine recharge!"

"Oh — thank you, as always."

One sip of the iced americano through the straw, and it felt like his brain cells were powering back on. So this was why office workers lived on coffee.

A routine had formed. Before closing time at Bongshindang, the three of them — Bonghyuk, Jian, and Do-yeon — gathered for coffee time.

"Here's today's settlement."

Jian opened the trade window and transferred 1.5 TC.

"Huh? Why so much?"

Bonghyuk blurted, startled by the number. His recommendations for the day had been the gauntlets and a few elemental-enhancement potions — 0.5 TC at most.

"I factored in commission on the sales that happened thanks to you."

"Oh, you really don't have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to—"

"It's a principle I set for myself, so please just take it."

Jian said it breezily, like it was nothing at all. Privately, Bonghyuk was touched. Once his debt was paid off, he really ought to buy her some good beef or something.

"Anyway, today's readings were amazing again. 'Stabbed by your own sword'...! Chills. Oh — Bonghyuk, what do you think about setting fixed reading hours? Since we never know when you'll show up, it's awkward to guide people."

"Ah... well, I never go past midnight, though."

"Wouldn't a fixed schedule be easier on you, too?"

"Hmm..."

A fixed schedule, hm. To be fair, though it hadn't been many days, his arrival times had lurched all over the place. And he did feel a little sorry for the long line of people waiting every time he turned up.

"What time would be good, I wonder."

Jian offered a suggestion to the murmuring Bonghyuk.

"One-thirty? How's that? You're not really a morning person, right?"

One-thirty. Not bad at all. Sleep in, work hard through the afternoon, clock out.

"Sure, let's do that."

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Try picturing something like this, too," Jian said, holding out her tablet screen.

On the screen was — what should he call it — a booth.

A single ancient tree. Brass bells and strips of five-colored cloth dangling in bunches from every branch. A straw mat spread over the ground, topped with a small tray table and cushions. Every time the wind slipped through the cloth, a bell would cry out — clink. And behind it all, even a canvas teepee for taking a breather.

A space dressed up, beyond any doubt, as an open-air shrine.

"Before I Awakened, I actually worked in interiors. I dashed it off real quick."

Bonghyuk stared at the drawing, dumbstruck.

"Floor seating seems like it'd murder my back..."

"You're supposed to gasp in admiration first."

"...Wow."

"Honestly. Anyway, atmosphere matters for everything, you know? A space has its own power. If you're worried about your back, we'll just add one floor chair."

With that, she surveyed Bonghyuk's spot. Until now, he had been giving readings in a bare, hollow space with a single chair.

"Right now it's just so... empty, isn't it?"

Hm. She wasn't wrong. Bare as bare could be. No sense of grounding to it, either.

But—

"Still... feels like it'd cost a lot..."

"I'd say five hundred, give or take?"

"Fiiive hundred?!"

All the wind went out of him at once.

"I don't have that kind of money..."

His debt stood at five thousand, mind you.

"I'll build it for you."

"Huh?"

When Bonghyuk looked up, Jian gave a shrug.

"I said I'll build it. My sales have shot way up thanks to you. I should return the favor."

"Why on earth would you go that far...?"

As Bonghyuk blinked at her,

"The more famous you get, the more crumbs fall my way, you know."

Do-yeon, who had been sneaking glances from the side, piled on with her own fuss.

"Shaman Bong, this shot is going to come out gorgeous!"

"I-is that so?"

"Guaranteed!"

He turned the composition over in his head from every angle. Bonghyuk deliberated — and finally gave a nod.

"Then... I leave it to you! Once I make real money, I'll pay you back for it."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Anyway, I'll file the lobby-space request with the Awakening Agency."

Somehow... with everyone around him hammering things into place, all Bonghyuk had to do was read fortunes. It was comfortable.

Bonghyuk slipped out of the Tower lobby. Just as Jian was getting ready to start selling again—

two total strangers came pelting toward her, out of breath. Jian flinched at the sheer momentum.

"A-are you the owner of JAN Store!?"

"Th-that's me...?"

Jian went subtly on guard. They were strangers — which meant online-store customers. Online customers tracking her down in person? Not a good sign. And their expressions looked urgent, somehow. Was it because they had just watched that reading next door — the one about dying to a sword of one's own making? She felt even more uneasy.

"Is... something the matter?"

"The Bongshindang spirit talismans! Those were sold here, right??"

Don't tell me — the very first buyers? Were they here to demand their money back because the things didn't work?

"Oh, yes? What about them? Would you like a refund?"

But the reply that came back was nothing of the sort.

"A refund? As if! Can't you please lift the purchase limit on the talismans?!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'll buy every single one you've got. That thing is straight-up insane merch!!! King-god-general merch, I'm telling you?!"

Watching the man shout himself breathless with excitement—

Oh?

Her merchant's instinct was speaking to her, loud and clear.

That talisman is no ordinary item.

© KAY™#13lul