Home Sweet Home (Part 1)
In the dark editing room of the broadcasting station, PD Kim A-rang was watching the news.
“…Yes. I remember.”
It was an interview with Lee Shin-hyeong, the father of Lee Seon-uk—the boy who had been attacked... no, almost attacked, by Kim Du-gyeom.
“Seol Ha-woon. He was one of the kids at Hanbit Orphanage. I believe he was in middle school at the time.”
The reporter asked what Seol Ha-woon was like back then. What kind of child he was, and what his personality was like.
Under the guise of the public's right to know, Seol Ha-woon's past—the teenage years of a mere orphan—was being laid bare to the entire world.
“How should I put it? Ha-woon was... like an anchor.”
An anchor? Both the reporter on screen and Kim A-rang muttered the same words.
“Orphanage children carry deep emotional scars. And those scars can torment not just the children themselves, but also those around them. But Hanbit Orphanage was different.”
An anchor.
Whether it was a massive vessel or a humble rowboat, every ship needed an anchor. A ship that lost its anchor could never stay in one place; it would lose its bearings entirely.
“There was a clear focal point there. Someone who held the children fast so they wouldn't go astray.”
Lee Shin-hyeong wore a gentle smile.
“He didn't say much, nor did he do anything to stand out. But just by simply being there, he steadied their trembling hearts and guided their straying steps back onto the right path. Ha-woon was that kind of child.”
Kim A-rang rested her chin on her hand, her eyebrows twitching with interest.
On screen, the reporter then asked about the recent incident.
“...It is entirely my fault. I failed as a father. I had no idea my own son was going through such a nightmare. I was so busy looking after other children that I neglected the suffering of my own child.”
Was a father who cared more for complete strangers than his own family truly a good father?
People's opinions on that would surely differ, but one undeniable truth remained.
“Well, it's thanks to that that your son survived,” Kim A-rang murmured.
Was it a case of good deeds coming back around?
The reporter on screen echoed her thoughts to Lee Shin-hyeong. Kim A-rang clicked on the social affairs section of the news portal.
Kim A-rang scrolled through the comments briefly before closing the tab. They were filled with all kinds of vitriol.
It was easy to curse someone out. It only took a few taps of a finger.
But taking action in the real world was a different story. It required risking one's life.
“Is he reckless, or does he just have balls of steel...?”
Seol Ha-woon had risked his life.
Kim A-rang was dying to know how he had managed to confront a Martial Artist one-on-one in a cramped apartment—and win without sustaining a single scratch.
How on earth did a pure Spellcaster defeat an elite Martial Artist like Kim Du-gyeom?
“One or two months...”
That was roughly when Kim Du-gyeom's trial would take place. Since the evidence footage would be submitted then, she had no choice but to wait. If Kim Du-gyeom sued Seol Ha-woon for mana-assault, it might be released even sooner.
Would it be too much to hope he actually sues? she wondered.
“Whew.”
Kim A-rang clasped her hands behind her neck. Looking up at the ceiling of the editing room, a smirk spread across her face.
She didn't know why.
She just couldn't help but grin. It wasn't even because Kim Du-gyeom's life had hit rock bottom.
It was just...
Somehow, she had a feeling that if they went all the way, Seol Ha-woon would be the one standing victorious in the end.
I headed out to the Back Mountain early in the morning.
Perhaps because I hadn't been able to activate Dream Bubble before sleeping, my condition wasn't great. I felt like I was catching a cold, too.
“Cough.”
But there was no time to rest. The first tally was tomorrow, and I would have to enter the labyrinth again soon after. Before that, I needed to figure out what this Subspace was all about.
After scanning my surroundings, I activated Subspace.
Ssssshh.
A portal opened.
“...A portal is too conspicuous.”
I closed it.
The portal format was too old-fashioned and drew too much attention.
Broadly speaking, a skill was just a spell that consumed mana. Therefore, its method of use and manifestation followed the principles of my Cognitive Image. This meant one couldn't fully judge a skill solely by its text description.
In the first place, "skills" themselves weren't unique to my MoMo system. Skill books were among the most expensive loot categories in the labyrinths, and they were treated exactly like spells.
“Let's try a different way.”
Nodding to myself, I manifested my Cognitive Image.
*Whoosh...* A gust of wind whipped up. Convection currents carrying particles of mana swirled like dust. Dirt and fallen leaves swept through the air like a mini-tornado. Taking a step forward into the vortex, the space around me shifted.
It was a "switch" method. By setting up an invisible switch, I would enter the Subspace the moment I stepped on or crossed a specific point.
“...Not bad.”
I surveyed the area.
First of all, it was a forest. Not too dense, with a pleasantly clear mountain atmosphere.
They said the scale of the space was determined by the user's mana talent and skill. Gauging the "boundary" that only I could see, it was roughly the size of four to five school playgrounds stitched together. Satisfying.
Next, I opened the MoMo inventory and checked the items I had obtained from the B-Class random boxes.
◈ Description: Astroal193 is an advanced commercial AGI robot from the Merchant Galaxy. It establishes a shop at a location designated by its Master and automatically conducts business. The items available for trade are determined by Astroal193's negotiation skills and held resources.
◈ Special Note: Astroal193 can procure rare items through its merchant network and actively adjusts prices based on market conditions. It automatically deducts 10% of its daily revenue as maintenance costs.
“The description makes it sound like a pet.”
Special-grade items were, quite literally, special. Just looking at this guy, it was incredibly unique.
However, their performance could be wildly inconsistent. They could rival Legendary-grade items, or they could be more useless than Common-grade trash.
“Come on out.”
Once Astroal193 is summoned, the action cannot be undone unless it is discarded.
In any case, once an item was taken out of the inventory, it couldn't be put back. This wasn't the actual world of MoMo, after all.
“I know. Summon.”
I retrieved Astroal193 from my inventory.
*Shhhhhhh!*
A holographic crack split open in midair, and a robot stepped out from within.
Though its body was made entirely of alloy, its short limbs and rounded face and torso made it look rather cute.
It somewhat resembled a penguin.
There used to be an old arcade game where a penguin threw bombs; if that penguin wore armor, it would look exactly like this.
“Oh, you look pretty cool.”
[Greetings. From this moment on, I shall recognize you as my Master.]
Its voice was a classic mechanical drone.
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
I scanned the robot from head to toe.
While it made for a decent mascot, its appearance made it difficult to handle. I couldn't exactly take it outside.
Of course, robot-type pets did exist among modern labyrinth loot, but keeping one required a mountain of paperwork, including a Labyrinth Conquest Certificate, a Hazard Assessment Report, and an Explorer Trust Qualification.
[Registration complete. I request the Master's name.]
“Seol Ha-woon.”
[Master Seol Ha-woon.]
“Right. By the way, are you classified as an inanimate object?”
Living creatures could only stay in the Subspace once every twenty-four hours for a maximum of eight hours, but inanimate objects could remain here indefinitely.
[Strictly speaking, my classification is inanimate. However, I am a perpetual machine capable of autonomous operation and functioning. I possess capabilities equivalent to biological life, and may even surpass them in certain areas.]
The penguin's brow seemed to furrow slightly.
“Are you mad?”
[I do not possess emotions. Emotions are merely biochemical reactions that impair logical judgment.]
He's definitely mad.
“Sure. Anyway, you're supposed to run a shop, right?”
[Yes. Model name Astroal193. I am certified as the highest-performing unit among the latest commercial AGI series.]
“Ah. Is that so?”
It seemed buying and selling goods was this fellow's entire reason for being.
I felt a bit sorry for him.
“The only place you can set up shop is here. You can't go outside.”
[This is the outside.]
“Well, yes, but it's a bit different...”
I decided to just let it go. It was probably better if he thought this was the real world.
“Can you set up the shop anywhere?”
[Yes, that is correct.]
“Then set it up.”
The robot looked around. Waddling over, he picked up a few long tree branches. He stood them up on either side like pillars, found a wide, flat piece of wood to place on top, and welded them together.
Then, he just stood there.
“...Is that it?”
The robot looked back at me, as if asking what else I expected.
“Hey. What is this, a lemonade stand?”
It wasn't a shop; it was a street stall. A lemonade stand made by a four-year-old would have had more effort put into it than this.
Staring at me blankly, the robot spoke.
[I now require merchandise to sell.]
“Huh? Weren't you supposed to source the goods yourself?”
[In order to negotiate through my network, I must first sell merchandise to acquire capital.]
“What a pain... Hold on.”
I pulled the Snack Box from my inner pocket.
This Snack Box was currently influenced by my Mana Coefficient. In other words, the longer it remained in my possession, the more its performance would improve.
Conversely, if I didn't use it for a long time or kept it far away, the circuits I had already established would fade. This was why I made sure to carry the Snack Box and the Pony Projector on my person at all times.
Grade: Rare
Overview: Refines raw ingredients into snacks of various flavors. All toxins present in the original ingredients are completely removed.
Mana Coefficient: The umami of the refined snacks is amplified, and the overall depth of flavor is enhanced.
Thanks to that, the snacks tasted even better than store-bought ones. They could easily rival my favorite brand of potato chips now.
[Merchandise required. Merchandise required.]
“I got it, so just wait a second.”
I placed the leftover jokbal from yesterday into the Snack Box. Within five minutes, it was refined into something resembling potato chips.
I had brought it along to eat after training, though.
[I request detailed information regarding the product.]
“The nutritional content is probably... well, this was about one and a half servings of jokbal, so it should be around 1,200 calories. Ah, since the bones were included, it might be a bit higher.”
The nutritional value of the snacks faithfully mirrored the original ingredients. Not just the calories, but the protein, fat, and everything else—excluding toxins. This meant that if you threw in bones, you would get an ultra-high-calorie snack packed with calcium and magnesium.
I placed the jokbal chips onto Astroal's display stand.
[...]
Astroal stared blankly at the jokbal chips. With a mechanical creak, he turned his head to look at me. Then back to the chips. Then back to me.
[Packaging. Packaging.]
“...Where would I get packaging? I literally just made them.”
[...]
He seemed disappointed.
But packaging was out of the question.
[Master. Branding is of utmost importance in trade and negotiation.]
“Whatever.”
I looked over my other items.
Grade: Unique
Description: A flowerbed where whatever is planted grows into a medicinal herb. It mutates even ordinary seeds into medicinal varieties and accelerates their growth by up to three times. Harvesting is possible only once every 14 days. Features built-in automatic soil regulation, a pest-prevention barrier, and automatic weeding functions.
“Hmm.”
So whatever I planted would grow into a medicinal herb. Planting some lettuce seeds would probably do the trick.
Would you like to retrieve the 'Herb Garden'?
Yes.
The retrieved flowerbed was about the size of a sofa. I placed it right next to Astroal's stall.
Grade: Rare
Description: Allows the design and summoning of up to two scarecrows. The performance of the scarecrows depends on the user's mana skill and talent.
Opening it revealed two recorded scarecrows.
Grade: Unique
Description: A cloth imbued with sacred mana. It possesses strong resistance against curse-type spells. It maintains a state of perfect cleanliness.
It was black and, at a glance, incredibly soft and high-quality. Since it blocked curses—which explorers found the most troublesome—it would make an excellent Spellcaster robe.
Of course, that would have to wait until I made some money.
Using a fabric of this unique grade required outsourcing to an S-rank tailor, which would cost hundreds of millions of won in labor alone.
“I hit the jackpot.”
The probability of getting a Unique from a B-Class random box was only about 9%, yet I had pulled two Uniques, one Rare, and one Special.
I was extremely pleased with all four.
Astroal's specs were also incredibly impressive. If I treated him like a system feature from MoMo, he was essentially an automatic money-making machine. It was my first time seeing an AI robot pet.
But...
I looked back at Astroal.
A single plate of potato chips sat lonely on a shabby stall that looked like it belonged at a lemonade stand. It was a pitiful sight.
That penguin-like robot was standing stiffly in a place where absolutely no one would ever visit, in front of a stall that looked like it belonged in the Stone Age, acting like he was the proud owner. It was incredibly depressing.
Were robots always this pathetic?
“Hey. Just wait there. I'll build you a new one.”