36 Billion. 40 Billion. 50 Billion.
Lee Taeseop.
Seobi, as Haven knew him, had landed himself in an awkward spot.
The words had come off a livestream. They named no one. Even so, Seobi flinched. There was only one Lich King's Soul Pouch in existence, and he was the man who owned it.
"How does he even..."
He wasn't the only person in Haven who knew he had it, so it was hardly strange that the rising next-generation mega-whale would know the item existed. Taeseop had pictured it himself. What if someone asked him to sell? He'd bought the thing to use, but life never quite ran the way you wanted. Still, he'd left the thought in his imagination, because the Lich King's Soul Pouch was a level-40 item.
"They won't be calling for a long while."
Hitting level 40 was no small feat. Even that monstrous rookie who'd climbed seven levels in a single day would click his tongue at the experience wall that jumped hard every ten levels, whale or not. Plenty of people poured money into Haven. Far fewer poured in money and melted that much time on top of it. Most never cleared the barrier, and never became rankers—which was also why the game was full of low-level users wearing nothing but good gear.
He hadn't been thinking about any of it. Then the item got mentioned, and his head turned into a knot. Should he sell? The thought was almost funny. He'd owned the Lich King's Soul Pouch for barely three months. If he'd meant to flip it the moment he bought it, he never would have bought it at all. The reason he'd bought it was simple. To use it.
Go back a little further, and Seobi had never planned to play a mage. He was a solid young man in his mid-thirties, and in his head lived a fantasy of a greatsword character. Even when he rolled for a class, he'd been picturing a stylish melee damage dealer swinging that blade. Then, somewhere around thirty million won in, luck struck, and a 4-star mage came up.
Seobi was a man with some money. In the real world he had two or three buildings in his own name, and if he'd wanted to keep rolling, he could have. But why bother? People said the expected value was a billion won, and he'd pulled it for thirty million. The ideal in his head and reality were two different things. A flashy 4-star mage, in place of a greatsword fighter, didn't seem so bad—so he started. And he was convinced that, among mages, he'd made a name for himself.
Then came the Lich King's Soul Pouch on top of that. He'd stretched to buy it. Unlike real life, a purchase this expensive didn't come with a loan. It had to be cash, which was why item prices never climbed without a ceiling. So he sold one of his buildings. Eighteen billion went in. In cash that was roughly six billion, though once fees and the rest were counted, he figured he'd spent closer to six and a half, maybe seven. It felt as if he owned the world.
At his current level, no amount of gearing up was easy to feel in any real way. Swap a single accessory, and he got visibly stronger. There is no mage stronger than me. He was sure of it—until he saw Kim Siwoo on that stream. Watching him, he understood.
"The gap between 4-star and 5-star is fucking enormous."
One by one, the weaknesses of a 4-star mage—weaknesses you could hardly find discussed anywhere—started to show. The spells he'd flaunted as overwhelming damage in his static raid party were set beside magic cast by someone who was only level 1, and the shortcomings leapt out at him.
"If I just had some CC..."
"The damage is a little thin..."
Of course, a few users on the community mage boards had their own take.
Easy to say. Seobi thought so too. I want to pull that as well. The problem was that nothing about it was certain.
No one could guarantee it. Not unless some 4-star user stepped up, spent the money, and pulled the thing themselves. That was where it started.
"Maybe I change classes..."
Seobi wasn't a launch player, but he'd been at it for nearly two years. He'd poured a great deal of affection into the character, and a great deal of money. Even so, somewhere deep in his chest there was a passion he couldn't quite name—a hope he still hadn't let go of. The fantasy of a greatsword character. As a mage, he was already no longer the best. He hadn't always been the best, but there'd always been a vague confidence that the road to the top was still open. That was why he'd bought the Lich King's Soul Pouch, and why he'd been sure he was number one.
Now that was over. With a 5-star Dragon Words Mage on the field, every mage ranker currently in the game was living on borrowed time. They would have to wait quietly for Kim Siwoo to climb. How long that took would depend on how hard the man worked, but if Seobi was going to play at all—if he was going to sell a building in the real world to do it—he wanted to be the best.
"If a 5-star greatsword comes out..."
Sell at double, and that was 36 billion. Cash it out, skim the fees, and you were looking at about 11 billion. Kim Siwoo had pulled a 5-star on something like 3.2 billion, so maybe one would come up if he spent around 5 billion. The odds were uncertain, but the arithmetic was already turning in his head. A firm answer, though, didn't come easily. Even buying the Lich King's Soul Pouch had taken a huge resolve: nearly two weeks of agonizing, and only then the sale of the building. Discarding a decision that long after only a few months felt wrong.
Then a call came.
"Oh. Sarang."
Lim Sarang. They were both mages, and somehow that thread had them in touch now and then.
"I'm sorry, Seobi. I was the one who told him."
"Ah..."
"I still haven't said that you're the one who has it. I only mentioned that an item like that exists..."
"It's fine. Anyone who would know already knows."
The unmarried man in his mid-thirties soothed a guilty-looking Lim Sarang with an easy, good-natured smile.
"Would it be all right if I asked what you're thinking?"
"Ah. About selling?"
"Yes. Siwoo said that, setting the trade itself aside, he'd like to meet you once and talk."
"Ah... hmm..."
"Would you like a little time to think?"
Seobi shook his head.
"No. I'll meet him. Could you set something up?"
"Oh! Really? Should I tell him you'll see him with the stream off?"
"No. I don't mind."
It wasn't that he'd decided to sell. He just wanted to meet the man once and hear him out. Maybe then the tangle in his head would settle a little. And he was a fan.
"I've been wanting to meet Siwoo at least once myself... I'm a fan."
"Ahaha! So you watch the streams too, Seobi. I do as well."
"Haha! If you're a mage, of course you're a fan..."
A conversation with a woman—a pretty one, the first in a long while—did a little to sort the mess in his head. Before long word came again, and he headed for the meeting place.
"Hello."
"Good to meet you. I'm a fan."
"Ah. Thank you."
A tall, handsome face. Youth that looked young even at a glance. An ease in the expression that might have come from having money. The man himself seemed like someone, and that smile alone was enough to like him.
"I'm live right now—is that all right? If it's uncomfortable, I can turn it off and we can talk."
"Ah, no. I'm a fan of the stream too. I don't know yet whether I'll sell, but I figure the viewers will want to hear the conversation either way."
"Heh. Then I'll weed out the nasty chat myself."
"All right."
They headed for a nearby café, one with private rooms. Simple drinks were ordered, and Kim Siwoo spoke first.
"If you came without having decided, does that mean the price I offered doesn't sit right with you?"
"No. No. Absolutely not. Double would be 36 billion... You even knew the exact price. Yeah, I'm not someone with money rotting away at that scale."
"Then..."
"To be honest, after seeing you, Siwoo, my heart has drifted a little from being a mage. More precisely, I want to pull a 5-star. That's why I'm hesitating."
"Ah."
Honesty was the right call. Wasn't that why he'd come? If he'd had no intention of selling, he could have refused the meeting and asked her to pass along that he wasn't interested. Now that he was on the stream, some of the viewers might tear into him for it.
"Could you give me just a little time? I'll sell. It's just... this might be frustrating to hear, but it's a character I've raised for two years... I need a moment to settle my heart."
He couldn't ignore the chance that it might not drop. How far to give ground, and from where to start over—that was as far as he could settle it. Kim Siwoo's brow creased.
"I want to buy it now."
"...Ah."
"I'm the one who put you in this situation. You shouldn't be the one left to worry."
"Pardon?"
"I'll buy it for 40 billion."
"...No. It isn't about the money. I have money too..."
"......"
What had he just heard? For a moment Seobi's head snarled into confusion, and through the tangle only one thought came clear. Fifty billion... the exchange rate's fallen to 2.5, so... twenty billion? He clamped a hand over his mouth.
He had money. In the real world he was a rich man who owned three buildings—two, now. And precisely because he was that kind of rich, the rich ran the numbers faster than anyone. He rose from his seat and bent at the waist.
"Thank you! Thank you for buying it!"
"No... hyung..."
As a man who'd watched the broadcast all the way through, gratitude welled up toward one more person.
"Owner of Ellen's Tears—thank you! I'm leaving here in your debt! Here, I'll hand this over first!"
"..."
A clean deal.