Chapter 2
Until yesterday, I’d thought I was just drunk from the night before, seeing things because I’d had too much to drink.
But when the day changed and I opened my eyes in the morning, there it was again.
- Rank: S.
- You can check detailed information such as the artifact’s rank and its background of creation.
- Duration when used: 24 hours.
- Cooldown: 30 days.
“It’s still here today too.”
And it didn’t stop at the rank. It even laid out the skill’s details in fine print.
I searched around, wondering if there might be similar cases out there, but...
No search results found.
“Yeah. Figures.”
No matter how I changed the keywords, all I found were things from movies, dramas, and webtoons. In real life, if you talked about powers like this, people would just think you were insane.
Should I go to a hospital or something...
I even thought about seeing a psychiatrist, but then I worried that if it left a record, it might cause problems later on with health checks or when I changed jobs, so I gave up on the idea.
And more important than anything else was this.
It’s only visible to me.
Just to be sure, I’d taken photos and videos with my phone.
I’d even looked in the mirror.
Nothing showed up.
It was visible only to my own eyes.
Even after I’d brought up the status window and gone to the convenience store in front of my apartment,
nobody noticed a thing.
Not a single person sensed anything strange.
At this point, it’s less like I’m hallucinating and more like...
I’ve been chosen by something unknown.
If it’s come to this, I should probably check first whether this power is real.
If I was hallucinating, that would prove it.
And it just happens to be Saturday.
I wasn’t going to work anyway.
Maybe I should go somewhere and see?
So, as if I were just going for a walk, I got ready and headed out lightly dressed.
***
Hwanghak-dong Flea Market.
The long alley stretching from Sindang Station to Dongmyo felt like a trip through time, crammed full of old things.
Rows of antique record players and grimy CRT televisions lined the path.
Faded old LPs were stacked in layers, waiting for new owners.
I started walking slowly down the alley, where the late-summer heat still lingered.
Even before I’d walked very far from the entrance, I could catch sight of some familiar signs.
[Records for sale.]
[Vacuum-tube radios repaired here.]
[Film cameras sold here.]
[Old coins and bills bought.]
[Old comics and magazines available.]
[Rare stamp appraisals welcome.]
They were signs scribbled with marker on the backs of repurposed post office boxes, then flipped over and propped up.
I used to see these all the time when I went to markets as a kid. And they’re still here in Seoul.
As I walked, the voices of people bargaining and chatting reached me too, warm and familiar.
“Boss, how much is this?”
“Fifty thousand won.”
“Hey now, that’s too expensive.”
“Forty?”
“Make it thirty. Then I’ll come back again.”
“Hey, that doesn’t even leave me my cost.”
At each stall, there were voices haggling like that.
“Boss, what year is this camera from?”
“Japanese-made. Japanese-made.”
“No, I’m asking what era it’s from.”
“Ah, that’s an antique from the Korean War.”
“Wow, nice. How much?”
“I need at least 250,000 won.”
“Hey, it probably doesn’t even take proper pictures.”
“Does an antique need to work to have value?”
“Even so...”
And in the gaps between the alleyways, the smell of roasted chestnuts drifted through the air.
I’m starting to get hungry.
I bought a bag of roasted chestnuts and walked on, only to have my throat dry up again.
[Iced coffee, 500 won a cup!]
That’s good too.
I took a paper cup filled with ice and a strong mix of instant coffee and wandered along the street.
I’d come out intending to check my power, but now that I was here, just looking around the alleys made me feel like I’d done the right thing by coming.
Since I’m out anyway, maybe I should look at some records too?
I stepped into a shop that seemed right.
A fan wheezed in place, struggling where an air conditioner should have been.
“Just let me know if you need anything.”
The old man running the shop stood with his hands clasped behind his back and spoke at a leisurely pace.
“Yes, sir.”
I started by looking at the first things that caught my eye.
- Elvis Presley.
- Queen.
- Michael Jackson.
- ABBA.
- Westlife.
...
“There are a lot of great albums here.”
I’d loved old pop music since I was a kid, so my collector’s instinct kicked in.
As I looked through everything, the ones that drew my eye most were:
- The Beatles, Volume 11: Abbey Road.
- The Beatles, Volume 8: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
- The Beatles, Volume 6: Help!
Of course. It was the Beatles.
My father really loved the Beatles.
We hadn’t lived together after he divorced Mom over those damn stocks, but there were still some good memories there.
I was getting the urge to buy one while I stared at the records, but...
I don’t even have a record player. What would I do with an LP?
I shook my head and put the record back.
Gotta save.
If I was going to escape rent with a salary that was already absurdly small, then if I wanted to keep living in Seoul without any support from my parents, the only answer was to scrimp and save like crazy.
“I looked around. I’ll come again next time.”
I bowed politely to the shop owner, who didn’t even answer, and left the LP store.
Still, I’m glad I came out.
I’d come to check my power, but just being here was a nice change of pace.
How long had I been walking after that?
A sign tucked away in a corner off the main alley suddenly caught my eye.
[Buying and selling antiques.]
It looked like there weren’t many customers.
And the owner, an old woman, didn’t seem especially interested in customer service, just sitting there fanning herself with a swoosh, swoosh.
Should I look around here too?
I carefully stepped into the shop.
“Excuse me.”
She flicked her eyes toward my face, then turned her attention back to the TV as if she had no interest in me at all.
Good. That was better.
It was a lot easier to look around at my own pace.
Maybe I can use the power here too?
- Time remaining: 23 hours 59 minutes.
“...So it really worked?”
I waited a moment, and the time ticked down by one minute.
Since I had plenty of time, I began looking over the artifacts at a leisurely pace.
Hmm...
Honestly, even after looking at all these things, I still couldn’t really tell what was good and what was bad.
Still, it’s fun.
There was something fascinating about seeing old historical antiques up close.
Then, in the middle of it all,
“Oh...”
A celadon piece with a remarkably lovely color caught my eye.
“Ma’am, how much is this one?”
The old woman glanced over at me, looking annoyed.
“Which one?”
“This one here.”
“I can’t see it well. Pick it up.”
At her instruction, I picked up the celadon piece.
And then, all at once—
Cheap Celadon
- Year made: 2017
- Maker: Kim Soon-ja.
- Rank: Replica.
- Note: Mass-produced at a factory in Osan, Gyeonggi Province.
It was nothing more than a mass-produced item with a transfer-print imitation of Goryeo celadon’s color and sheen.
“W-whoa.”
A window suddenly popped up in front of me, and I nearly dropped the celadon piece.
“Hey, you!”
The old woman barked at me.
“If you drop it, you’ll have to pay for it!”
“Oh... I’m sorry.”
“That one’s 150,000 won!”
“Ah, yes...”
I bowed again and set the celadon back down.
But the information window was still hanging there in front of my eyes.
It shows that much detail?
It even gives the maker’s name and the factory it was made in.
“Isn’t 150,000 won pretty expensive?”
At my question, the old woman nodded as if it were obvious.
“Just look at that beautiful color.”
“Ah...”
But it said right there that it was just a mass-produced item.
Let’s look at the others too.
Trying not to draw the old woman’s attention, I touched one item after another.
[Aluminum pot produced in the 1990s]
[Bundle of Chinese plastic old coins]
[Wooden ornament sold at Daiso]
[Trophy from the 1976 National Oratory Contest]
[Mass-produced item modeled after a late-Joseon mother-of-pearl mirror]
...At this point, this isn’t an antique shop. It’s a dumb shop.
Rather than precious relics, they were just old odds and ends.
Maybe there’s a real treasure somewhere?
Still wanting to find at least one thing, I kept looking around, and then—
Huh...
A ceramic piece tucked into a corner caught my eye.
A gray body, mottled with stains and age.
Normally I would have just passed it off as some old product, but after looking at all the cheap junk around it, I could tell this one was different somehow.
There’s something strange about the feel of it.
Not quite sure, I reached out and touched it.
Joseon White Porcelain Moon Jar
- Year made: Late 1700s.
- Maker: An unknown potter from the Saongwon branch kiln.
- Rank: Masterpiece.
- Note: It was made for use at royal banquets, but due to a tiny flaw it was never delivered to the government office and was leaked out instead.
The surface has aged badly and is in poor condition.
“Gah!”
Before I knew it, I sucked in a sharp breath.
This one’s real?
Swallowing hard, I felt my nerves shoot straight up.
“Uh, ma’am... how much is this?”
I asked cautiously.
The old woman pushed her glasses up onto her head and gave it a lazy look.
“Ssshhh, it’s gotten pretty worn. Give me 50,000 won for that.”
“...50,000 won?”
I was shocked because it was so cheap.
But the old woman, thinking I was trying to back out because it was too expensive, said,
“Would 30,000 be okay?”
She even haggled with me.
Thirty thousand won.
A masterpiece ceramic for just 30,000 won?
Like I’d been bewitched, I pulled my wallet from my pocket and handed over three 10,000-won bills.
“Thanks.”
“Do you have anything to wrap it in?”
“What, you want a shopping bag too?”
“No. Maybe a cardboard box or something...”
The old woman scowled hard.
“You’re buying something for only 30,000 won, and you want all that? Just put it in a cardboard box and take it.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry.”
Fair enough.
It looked expensive to me, but it was only 30,000 won, after all.
That was reasonable enough.
I picked a sturdy cardboard box, carefully tucked the white porcelain inside, and headed home.
***
“Hah.”
After washing it with water and scrubbing it a little with a brush, it looked somewhat less pitiful.
Still, just like the description had said,
there really is a chip missing.
The flaw that had been hidden under stains and grime was now clearly visible.
Maybe this power is real after all?
Even so, I still wasn’t fully convinced.
If it is real, how much is it worth?
The thought that it might be a Joseon white porcelain moon jar made me hopeful.
But at the same time, I also felt a little bitter, wondering whether I’d just wasted my money.
Ah, well. It was only 30,000 won anyway.
That was far better than wasting money on coins or lottery tickets.
If it turns out to be fake later, I’ll just use it as a flowerpot.
The air-purifying plant I’d received as a housewarming gift was getting bigger anyway, and it was about time to replant it.
I got a glass of beer from the fridge and sat down on the sofa.
Fizz.
Pure white foam bubbled up in little bursts.
I drank it down in one go, and the cold carbonation scraped pleasantly down my throat.
“Ahh...”
Nice.
Whether it was genuine or fake, this was a successful weekend outing.
After another sip of beer, my eyes drifted back to the white porcelain on the table.
The more I look at it, the prettier the color seems, now that it’s been properly cleaned.
Even after buying the 30,000-won white porcelain, I’d still stopped by a few more antique shops nearby just in case.
But the information windows kept saying they were all replicas.
Most of Hwanghak-dong turned out to be cheap junk.
If I had to pick the closest thing to a decent find...
It’d be a ceramic piece made during the Korean War, at best?
Even that had the neck half broken off, and when they asked a staggering 700,000 won for it, I’d just clicked my tongue and given up.
It wasn’t a fake, but its rank was even lower than this white porcelain’s.
“Hmm...”
Since I’d come this far, I wanted to get it appraised properly at least once.
While I was flipping through the TV channels, one familiar program caught my eye.
A show with a format similar to the old Good Antique, Bad Antique program I used to watch on TV when I was a kid.
Only this one was packaged much more aggressively, in step with the latest trends.
- MBS appraises antiques for free!
- We also stream live on YouTube at the same time as the TV broadcast.
- If it’s genuine, you can sell it immediately at the appraised price, and if you want to send it to auction, we’ll help with that too.
- Warning! If it turns out to be fake, we’ll dispose of it in the studio right away!
“Oh...”
The free appraisal was the first thing that caught my eye.
If it turned out to be fake, the show would smash it or destroy it in the studio as part of the broadcast’s showmanship, which was a little extreme.
But thanks to that kind of satisfying performance, it seemed to be quite popular.
Should I go on that?
I didn’t hesitate for long.
Once I went to the website, entered a few pieces of personal information, and hit the apply button—
Click.
Application complete!
Since everything was ready right away...
This could be fun.
---