Four Hundred Thousand

Ayeon was a loser.

When a Gate accident took her parents, when the orphanage went bankrupt and she was packed off to another, unfamiliar one, when her classmates subjected her to vicious bullying—through all of it, Ayeon thought of herself as a loser.

In the end, it all came down to what you were born holding. Money, ability, family. There were people who possessed those things without ever having tried, and people who, without ever having done anything wrong, simply never had them—or lost them. The world as Ayeon saw it was divided that cleanly into winners and losers.

Then one day, by a stroke of chance, she climbed into the winners' ranks. But the victory she had seized so easily did not, looking back on it now, seem particularly sweet. What was it she had wanted, then? The question came to her late.

Ayeon slowly opened her eyes.

"……."

"……."

Black eyes gazed quietly down at her. In the still silence, Eunha's lips moved, barely.

"Can you get up?"

A white hand was held out, matter-of-fact. In that instant Ayeon thought, Ah. Maybe what I wanted was never anything so grand.

She pushed herself up from the wet ground and looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠around. Verde and his companions, and even the savage dogs that had packed the place tight, had already vanished like smoke. Ayeon stared blankly at Eunha's hand, then carefully reached out and took it.

"We got an apology, but I think we ought to file a report too." Eunha said it as she took in the wreck Ayeon had become.

An apology beaten out of someone was useless. There was no telling when, or how, they might come back for revenge.

"We can't report it." Ayeon wrung out her top with a wet squelch, forcing a stream of muddy water from the cloth. "I might be the one who gets caught."

"……What?"

Eunha blinked, lost. Hehe. Ayeon laughed, sweet as anything, and gave the air a light tap.

Ayeon rummaged through an inventory Eunha could not see, and before long she found an item. A violet thread of light spread across her palm. By the color of it, the thing was probably hero-grade. And what she succeeded in drawing out was—

"Ta-da! Witch's Grimoire, get! Lucky me!"

Ayeon held it out before Eunha like a trophy. It was a thick book, its cover marked with an indecipherable pattern. She didn't know much, but it did not look like an ordinary item.

"……You said you didn't steal anything."

"Not at first."

"……."

"What? Did you think I was just going to lie there and take the beating? Do you know who I am? The math doesn't work. Ow, ow—my knee."

One of Ayeon's unique skills was Plunder. The conditions for activating it were finicky, and she could not choose which item to steal, but if it succeeded, she sometimes walked away with something decent. Just like this.

"By now they've noticed an item's missing and completely lost it, I bet. Tsk. That's what you get for not living a little nicer. Am I right?"

Ayeon stretched long and hard. Every corner of her body throbbed, but she had come away with a fine piece of loot, and—she turned her head and looked at Eunha, who was watching her with a faintly bewildered face.

"……It doesn't hurt, unni."

Murmuring it, Ayeon slowly lifted her face to the sky. Little by little, the cleared heavens reflected in her pink eyes. At some point, the rain had stopped.

September 12.

The two-day flea market was over, and the long-awaited auction was opening at last. Overnight, enormous booths had been raised all across the wide park.

"Unni! Come on. It's about to start."

Hurry, hurry! Ayeon hustled her along. Letting herself be pulled, Eunha glanced sidelong at her. Because the auction on the third day was held anonymously, Ayeon wore a cute Mickey Mouse mask.

Unlike the flea market, the auction moved staggering sums of coins and chips. Most hunters—especially those listing goods or winning bids—hated having their identities made public, and with good reason. It was as good as advertising to the whole world, I have this much money. Now and then, after an auction ended, the winning lot was plundered by parties unknown. A mask ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was essential for any hunter taking part on the third day.

The mask hid her face, but the parts of Ayeon that showed—her nape, her wrists—were spotless, without a single wound. Hunter or not, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she seemed to have healed clean overnight.

The cat's suspicion was fair. That was not the only thing that had changed overnight.

"Hey, mister. Duck your head a little. You're blocking my unni's view!"

At some point, Eunha had become Ayeon's my unni.

"What's your problem?"

"I said duck, not turn your head. We came to look at my unni's item. If we miss it because of you, you planning to take responsibility?"

The man didn't so much as pretend to hear. Ayeon pouted at the back of his head—shaved smooth, not a hair left on it.

"I'm fi—"

The moment Eunha's lips moved, Ayeon went and did it.

"God, that's blinding. At least wear a wig."

The bald—no, the hunter in the row ahead whipped around, furious.

"Oh, you heard that? And here I thought you were deaf."

Ayeon grinned, flashing white teeth.

Ayeon's way with words was clearly not the gentle sort. Eunha agreed with the cat, blandly.

"There, unni. You can see now, right?"

Back from a full-blown spat with the hunter in front, Ayeon thrust out her chest, satisfied. After that she kept volunteering for things no one had asked of her—scrubbing Eunha's seat clean with her sleeve, jabbing a finger without hesitation at any hunter who blocked the view.

Eunha had helped her, of course, and she had smashed those men's phones yesterday. But over something that small, Ayeon looked ready not merely to swear loyalty, but to lay down her life. There was no need to stop her, so Eunha decided to keep her mouth shut.

"There aren't as many people as I thought." Seated, Eunha murmured it under her breath.

"Well, more than half the hunters just window-shop the flea market and leave. From here on, it's a fight among the real ones, I guess. And this isn't the only auction booth." Ayeon, who had sat down beside her, answered as if it were nothing.

As she said, more than twenty booths had been raised across Sejong Central Park for the auction, lettered A through W. This one was K. According to the pamphlet, the relic-grade item Pixie Powder was to be listed here.

Past the mask she wore, Eunha slowly looked around. The interior was so lavish it was hard to believe the booth had gone up overnight; she might have been sitting in some famous opera house overseas. While she was still taking it in, the auction proper began.

"Our first item is hero-grade. The one found only on volcanic fields, even among Gates! Yes—I can already see several of you preparing your coins. That's right! We'll open with confidence from the very first lot. The Crimson Jade of the Flame Dragon!"

A glass case draped in black cloth emerged through the applause.

"As you all know, used as a material, the Crimson Jade of the Flame Dragon can grant powerful flame-resistance options to all kinds of equipment. Lately even the famous crafting guilds can't secure enough supply."

The host pulled away the black cloth. The dazzling red radiance hidden beneath it came sharply into view.

"A size greater than any other Crimson Jade of the Flame Dragon! And this vivid red! A premium will attach before the bidding even starts. Please note that participation requires one thousand five hundred chips. Then—we'll begin at one hundred coins!"

110, 200, 500, 1,000. The numbers climbed at a frightening pace. The item, which looked to Eunha like nothing more than a red egg, was apparently worth a great deal.

"T-ten—ten thousand coins!"

Ten thousand coins, without hesitation, for a hero-grade item? Even Eunha, ignorant of the going rate, was startled.

The auction rolled on without delay. Other hero-grade lots—the forbidden tome Orpheus, Yggdrasil timber, the Stone Tablet of Origin—went for high prices as well. The hunters around Eunha, Ayeon among them, joined in one after another, bidding on whatever they needed. Eunha never once raised a paddle. She only waited, quietly.

"Then allow me to introduce the next item. Now this—many of you have been waiting for it. The only relic-grade item to be presented at Booth K!"

At the mention of a relic-grade item, the mood of the hall shifted. Even Eunha, who had been leaning loosely against the back of her chair, straightened her spine.

"Unni. It's finally here."

Ayeon nudged her in the side. Eunha gave a small nod and fixed her eyes on the host.

"The Dr. Plant of the item world—erase any status ailment in a single use! Pixie Powder! An exceedingly rare item, listed only three times in the entire history of the Korean Hunter Auction, including the year before last. First, please, take a look."

And then the Pixie Powder was revealed. Resting atop a clear glass vessel, it shone without end beneath the lights, as if someone had gathered the Milky Way and set it there. Everyone in the hall lost themselves in that radiance.

"As it is relic-grade, please note in advance that participation begins at ten thousand chips. Now then! We'll start the coins at five thousand!"

Eighteen thousand. Thirty thousand. Forty-five thousand. Eighty thousand. Unlike the hero-grade lots before it, the bids for relic-grade Pixie Powder leapt upward in great bounds. The figures on the board could barely keep pace.

"T-two—two hundred thousand coins!"

The hall began to stir. Every eye turned toward the owner of those two hundred thousand coins. A mask hid the face, but—

"So they came again this year."

"Wolf."

Ayeon murmured it at her side. Eunha turned as well and looked toward the one who had called the bid.

"Ugh, selfish bastard. Relic-grade or not, two hundred thousand coins is crossing the line. What, trying to hog the whole thing?!"

Ayeon grumbled, thoroughly put out. A murmur ran through the seats. Paying it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no mind, the masked man who had called two hundred thousand folded his arms, loose and easy.

The year before last, Pixie Powder had closed at one hundred fifty-seven thousand coins. With that in mind, it did not seem likely the price would climb easily past two hundred thousand. The host appeared to think so too. He swallowed dryly and lifted the microphone, stammering.

"A-anyone else? Then…"

That was when it happened. Someone raised a paddle. The numbers on the board above the stage began to spin like mad—and then a bright chime rang out.

The number flared up in gold. The noisy hall went quiet all at once, as if someone had thrown cold water over it.

"F-four… hundred… thousand…"

Even the auction host could not get the words out. A sum he could not believe, even with his own eyes. The countless gazes that had been fixed on the owner of the two hundred thousand swung, all together, somewhere else.

Ayeon, too, started looking around with her mouth hanging open. Relic-grade or not, where else was there a lunatic who would casually call out hundreds of thousands of coins for a single pouch of powder—

She stopped dead.

"U-u-unni…?"

A black cat mask. The owner of the four hundred thousand coins was right in front of her.