Chapter 17
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: A Clothing Store in the Slums
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“Clothes?”
“Yeah. I was thinking of going to buy some. You can come along if you want.”
Cheon Doun asked, thinking of the Return Stones he had at home. He had stocked up on eight of them, intending to use them whenever he needed something.
The time had come to use one.
“Clothes…!”
Surprise flashed in Kim Nari’s eyes, followed by joy.
Kim Nari had never felt inconvenienced by her current life. But there was no reason to refuse the offer of new clothes.
“We can get clothes? I didn’t know. So there are clothing stores in the Demon World.”
“No, there aren’t… Hmm. Well, there are. But the tribe that sells clothes is too far away. Even farther than your Coconut tribe.”
“Then where are you going?”
“The human world. I happen to have a Return Stone, so it'll be faster to go there and buy them.”
At Cheon Doun’s words, Kim Nari’s expression hardened.
Fear, rejection, psychological terror. Her fleeting glance reminded Cheon Doun of something he had forgotten.
‘She said she has a GPS function embedded in her body.’
It didn’t work properly inside the Gate.
But in the human world, her exact location would be automatically sent to the research institute.
“I… I’m not going. I’ll stay and guard the house.”
“Really? Then tell me what kind of clothes you want. A dress or pants. Sportswear is fine too. If you have a style you like, let me know. I’ll go buy them.”
“Huh? I… a-any clothes will do.”
Kim Nari replied, avoiding his gaze. It was a different reaction from the joy she’d shown when he first mentioned buying clothes.
Cheon Doun immediately understood why.
‘She's never worn proper clothes before.’
Kim Nari’s true form was a mechanical frame of metal. The institute had never provided her with clothes.
Having never worn any, Kim Nari had no idea what to ask for.
“Then I'll go and pick out something suitable.”
“Th-thank you.”
Kim Nari bowed deeply.
“I’ll repay your kindness. I’ll work even harder.”
“Okay. Stay with Uncle Giseok. Help him so he can put his hands in the water. And spar with him sometimes.”
“Understood. I'm happy to have something to do.”
Kim Nari rolled up her sleeves and smiled.
The game of putting out fires with Nam Giseok had been fun, so she was already looking forward to it.
Nam Giseok, sleeping soundly at home, suddenly shivered from an unexpected chill.
* * *
Around noon.
Nam Giseok and Kim Nari headed to the waterfall valley for training.
Guu was sprawled out in the vegetable garden where the Mandragoras grew, sunbathing.
-Hmph, hmph!
-Hmph!
From time to time, the disgruntled sounds of the Mandragoras rose from the ground.
They were tattling that some ruffian was lying in their territory.
It was a signal asking the adult Mandragora for help in chasing it away.
Cheon Doun went to the garden and placed his hand on the soil. As he released his mana, letting it seep into the entire patch, the leaves trembled.
-Hoooong…
This time, it was a sound of satisfaction. The proof was in the way the Mandragoras’ leaves gently unfurled.
“Please try to understand why Guu is sleeping here. This spot gets the most sunlight. He's from a volcanic region, so he likes the heat.”
The warm soil was a perfect bed for Guu.
He couldn’t bring himself to move Guu, who was snoring softly.
Instead, he fed the Mandragoras a generous amount of mana, and they no longer expressed any complaints.
“Alright, I'm pretty much ready to go. Ah. Should I change my clothes before I leave?”
Returning to the house, he took some clothes from a drawer.
They were clothes he had farmed from the snowy mountain. They were slightly too small, which was why he’d just stored them away, but now it was time to wear them.
‘While I'm at it, I should buy some clothes for myself too.’
After changing, Cheon Doun clicked his tongue.
The pants were too short. The shirt was too tight and uncomfortable. This was why he hadn’t worn them until now.
He clearly looked like he was wearing someone else’s stolen clothes, but it was a hundred times better than going dressed like a caveman in a single animal hide.
He grabbed two Return Stones and two checks that had been tucked into a crack in the wall. It was a full mobilization of the items he had farmed from the snowy mountain.
He stepped outside and shattered a Return Stone, and a shimmering blue Gate materialized.
His first trip to the human world since his revival.
There was no excitement. Even if his past memories were hazy, he had passed through Gates countless times.
‘Well, shall we go?’
Cheon Doun stepped into the Gate as if he were just going for a walk around the neighborhood.
* * *
A square in a certain city.
A blue light shimmered as a Gate opened.
It was a wondrous sight, but none of the passersby gave the Gate a second glance.
In this day and age, an opening Gate was no longer a strange phenomenon.
Moreover, the Gate’s color was blue.
‘Looks like a Hunter on a raid is coming through.’
“Naturally occurring Gates,” from which Monsters emerged, were red.
In contrast, Gates created artificially by people were blue.
It was a safe Gate, so there was no reason to run.
A moment later, Cheon Doun walked out of the Gate.
He looked around. He had pictured this city square as his destination, so he recognized it at once.
“It’s been a while since I've been to the slums.”
His hometown and an infamous slum district. A place known as a gathering spot for criminals.
It was the only outdoor place he remembered clearly, so he had no choice but to picture it as his destination.
‘The atmosphere is different from when I lived here. It's gotten a lot better compared to the old days.’
Old buildings, rusty cars, children begging on the streets. That was the slum he remembered. But there was one crucial difference.
‘The police are even on patrol.’
That was a sight he would never have seen before. The people’s expressions also showed a hint of ease.
It still had the feel of an impoverished city, but there weren’t dead bodies rolling around the streets as Cheon Doun remembered.
“Hey, mister. Haven't seen your face around here. You from out of town?”
As Cheon Doun looked around, a boy approached him. He was in his mid-teens, fifteen at best.
‘Looks like an orphan.’
The boy was small, a result of malnutrition.
His shabby clothes and grimy face clearly marked him as an orphan living on the streets.
“As you can see, this area has a lot of alleys. Nine times out of ten, outsiders get lost. For a small fee of ten bucks, I'll be your guide. How about it? I'm a local, so I know these streets well.”
The boy said with a friendly confidence. Street kids who made a living like this existed even when Cheon Doun was young.
‘I used to do this often myself.’
Even if he was from here, that was decades ago. The geography had changed a lot, so having a guide wouldn’t hurt.
“I'm looking for a clothing store. Where should I go?”
“Clothes?”
The boy looked puzzled.
Why would an obvious outsider want to buy cheap clothes from the slums?
‘Huh, now that I look at him, his clothes seem… like he just picked them up from somewhere. He’s not even wearing shoes. Did he get mugged?’
Perhaps he’d been robbed of everything, including his clothes, by thugs who preyed on outsiders.
It was a common occurrence here. It was also not unusual to see outsiders who had “picked up” clothes from someone else’s clothesline and made a run for it.
‘Picked the wrong customer. He probably doesn't have a penny. Don't tell me he's planning to buy clothes on credit?’
He had targeted the wrong person. The boy felt a moment of regret but quickly shook it off.
Whatever. It’s not like he was short on time. The clothing store was close, so he could just think of it as helping a poor soul.
“Follow me. I'll show you the way. By the way, mister, you're a Hunter, right?”
“What makes you think so?”
“I saw you come out of the Gate earlier. You just awakened not too long ago, right?”
The boy asked with an air of certainty.
When Cheon Doun didn’t say anything, the boy took it as confirmation and nodded.
“Most of the Hunters who come here are like that. There's a reason this city is nicknamed the gathering place for rookie Hunters.”
“Is that so? How did it get that name?”
“All the gear Hunters use is expensive. I hear that by the time rookies buy this and that, their bank accounts are empty. After that, they flock to areas with cheap rent.”
“You know a lot for a kid.”
“Like I said, rookie Hunters gather in this city.”
The boy glanced across the street. A group of people were sitting around, drinking in broad daylight.
“Those are Hunters drowning in debt. They're D-rank or lower, so they don't make much from raids. And every time they go on one, they have to pay for gear. That’s how they just end up racking up more debt.”
When one first awakened, it was easy to get caught up in foolish dreams.
They would dive into the Hunter industry like moths to a flame, hoping to get rich by raiding Monsters.
Countless people who set foot on that path ended up in debt.
A gathering place for cornered, low-rank Hunters. That was this place, Slum District 13.
“Those guys drink and complain about their lives every day, so you can't help but overhear things. Oh, and…”
The boy pointed to the main road on the other side.
“See that road? Don't ever go beyond it. That's the heart of the slums.”
The boy lowered his voice as if sharing a secret.
“Even though it's all part of the slums, that area is much more dangerous. It's a place the police have completely given up on.”
Cheon Doun knew. The place where he was born and raised was just beyond that main road.
Although public safety had improved compared to seventy years ago, the central area was still beyond the reach of the law.
“People who don't know any better go over there because the rent is cheaper. But if an outsider goes in, there's an eighty percent chance they'll come out dead. Even residents of the slums avoid that area.”
He knew that as well. During his time at the orphanage, he had seen countless outsiders who came and died.
“We're here. This is the clothing store.”
The boy stopped in front of a shop.
“The owner here is really nice. If you leave your Hunter license as collateral, he'll probably let you have one set of clothes on credit.”
The boy said, then turned to leave. Cheon Doun caught his arm.
“You need to get your fee.”
“It's fine. I'm not shameless enough to take money from someone who just got robbed of everything. Just go.”
“And I'm not shameless enough to make you work for free. Come on, get your fee. I'll give it to you once I get some change after buying the clothes. I don't have any right now, so just wait a bit.”
“Oh, you have money? Well, if you're offering, I'd be grateful.”
The boy’s face lit up at the prospect of getting paid.
‘These days, some people just get directions and run off. This mister is a really good guy. Should I knock a buck off the price?’
The boy thought with a pleasant smile.
* * *
The owner of the clothing store, Mr. Park.
He let out a sigh, his face glum.
“So this is why they say not just anyone can run a business.”
He had opened a store in the city known as the graveyard for D-rank Hunters, but his sales were in the red.
“Focusing on children's clothing was a mistake.”
A children’s clothing store, with kids’ clothes as its main feature, in a place teeming with Hunters.
It was a business blunder on par with opening a stew restaurant in front of an elementary school. And yet, Mr. Park had been confident.
‘The graveyard of Hunters. In other words, a lot of people in their twenties and thirties end up settling down here.’
It was surprisingly common for couples who met in this city to retire and start a family. Mr. Park had planned to target that niche market.
“But… while there are certainly many retired newlywed couples…”
The problem was that as soon as a child was born, they would take out massive loans to leave the city.
No parent wanted to raise their child in the slums.
‘I didn't think of that. Should I just close the clothing store and open a weapon shop instead?’
Just as he heaved a deep sigh, the door chimed open.
“Welcome!”
Mr. Park shouted reflexively as he rushed over.
He didn't even notice the strange attire of the customer, Cheon Doun, who had just walked in.
“Are you looking for something?”
“I'd like a recommendation for clothes for a girl around seven years old.”
“Of course. Please wait a moment!”
Mr. Park summoned a sales smile from the depths of his being.
The customer was a young father in his twenties. The age when he would be overflowing with “papa power.” A time when he would want to do everything for his child, even if it meant overspending.
‘If I handle this well, I should be able to sell about three outfits.’
I will sell three outfits. Mr. Park secretly harbored this small hope.
“And I'd also like to buy some clothes for myself. Do you happen to have adult clothes?”
“Of course we do! Our main focus is children's wear, but we also carry clothes for the whole family.”
Mr. Park’s shoulders trembled with joy.
‘Clothes for his child and for himself…! If this goes well, I might sell five outfits!’
It might seem like a trivial wish to others, but Mr. Park was serious.
In this slum, it was rare for someone to buy more than five items of clothing at once.
“How many items will you be needing?”
“I won't be able to come back for a while, so…”
Say five. Three outfits for the child and two for yourself. Mr. Park prayed inwardly.
Cheon Doun was lost in thought for a moment before he spoke.
“Let's go with a generous fifty. Show me fifty outfits each for the child and for myself.”