Dokkaebi Market
Zeon holed up in his house for several days, doing absolutely nothing.
Apart from occasionally getting up to eat, he spent the time lying in bed, dead to the world.
It was fatigue accumulated over eight long years.
No matter that he was an Awakener—even Zeon couldn't simply ignore the exhaustion from wandering the world for so long.
He lay motionless on the bed.
Fortunately, the bed made from bloodwood and sand gator hide was incredibly comfortable, posing no issues for extended lounging.
About ten days passed like that.
By now, even Zeon was growing bored of his hermit life.
He rose from the bed and headed to the bathroom.
Twisting the valve produced a trickle weaker than a child's stream.
With water this scant, a proper shower was out of the question—just enough for a cat's lick of a wash. Still, Zeon was content.
Out in the desert, even this much water was a luxury.
Clinging to Neo Seoul was what made it possible. In other colonies, securing water was war in itself.
After a quick rinse, Zeon stepped outside.
A sand-laden wind greeted him after so long indoors.
No matter how high the walls, they couldn't fully block the desert gusts.
Sand always rolled through the slum streets as a result.
Neo Seoul, they said, had a powerful magic barrier that repelled even sandstorms. Inside the city, sand was a rarity.
The worst environment imaginable for Zeon.
That was precisely why he'd chosen the slums as his base.
Life inside Neo Seoul might be comfortable for the body, but it came with the constraint of not unleashing his full power.
Exion would handle most issues, but if possible, he preferred his optimal environment.
The slums fit the bill.
Dusk had already settled over the slums.
Cheap neon signs flickered to life one by one, and people who'd hunkered down all day emerged.
Street markets sprang up, voices growing rowdy.
Zeon headed straight for Clexy's stall.
Food vendors had set up, and the old man was bustling with preparations.
Zeon slid onto a stool at Clexy's cart.
"You're here."
Clexy greeted him gruffly.
Zeon chuckled and placed his order.
"Same as last time."
"Vanished for days, huh?"
"Just resting."
"Young buck with nothing better to do?"
"Worked my ass off for eight years. Time to slack off for a bit."
"Eight years of what?"
"Oh, you know, lived diligently enough."
"Tch! Slippery weasel."
Clexy clicked his tongue at Zeon, who wouldn't bite no matter the prodding.
He'd known Zeon had gone radio silent for days—thanks to the subordinate tailing him.
The report had left him dumbfounded.
He hadn't expected the kid to literally do nothing but hole up at home.
Not some sneaky escape past surveillance—slim chance of that, with no hidden passages in Zeon's building.
In the end, he'd learned zilch about the man.
It had Clexy plenty irritated.
As he plated the food, Clexy spoke up.
"Got enough coin?"
"Plenty. Sell some gear if I run low."
"Gear? Hiding something good, eh?"
"Just some odds and ends."
"Selling where?"
"Dunno."
"Those eyes say you won't be coming to me..."
"..."
"Tch! Shifty young punk. Fine. Want to offload discreetly? Head to the black building behind Yeonnam-ro. Flash this, say I sent you—they'll let you in."
Clexy handed Zeon a small card.
Pitch black, no markings. Yet it sent a chill down the spine.
Zeon tucked it into his robe.
"Thanks. I'll put it to good use."
"Whatever you've got, keep it safe. You know property's a myth around here."
"Of course."
Zeon grinned.
Clexy said no more, and Zeon dug in.
Other customers trickled in.
Zeon finished, paid, and hit the streets—straight for Yeonnam-ro.
In this corner of Shinchon, old place names lingered from a century ago.
Yeonnam-ro was one.
The landscape had utterly changed, but the name endured.
Unlike its name, Yeonnam-ro oozed menace, shrouded in gloom.
No garish signs, no soliciting whores or junkies.
Even the dregs of society steered clear—danger incarnate.
Zeon strode through without a second thought.
After a long walk, the black building appeared.
"Interesting."
Zeon's eyes lit with curiosity.
Not just its color.
No signs of life inside—perfectly sealed by magic circles or barriers.
Such advanced barriers demanded massive manpower and funds—not solo work.
Zeon approached the entrance. Suddenly, heavily armed men materialized.
One stood out: a hulking brute with a massive machine gun fused to one arm.
A mechanized Awakener, human limb sacrificed for machine.
Murderous aura poured off him.
He leveled the barrel at Zeon.
"Approach prohibited. No entry without clearance, kid."
"Clexy sent me."
Zeon calmly offered the black card.
The man infused mana; an eye symbol glowed.
His demeanor flipped to deference.
"A VIP, I see. You're clear to enter."
"VIP?"
"This way."
He nodded toward the interior.
Zeon shrugged off the non-answer and proceeded.
The closer he got, the denser the mana net felt.
A barrier, as suspected.
Upon arrival, a hole precisely his size opened—just enough to pass.
Behind him, it sealed seamlessly.
Stepping past, another world unfolded.
Unlike the grim exterior, the interior brimmed with shops of every stripe, packed with eager browsers.
These weren't ordinary folk—all Awakeners or armed to the teeth.
They haggled warily or eyed wares with caution.
Zeon got it now.
Dokkaebi Market.
Slum rumors spoke of a black market by that name, where Awakeners traded freely.
Zeon had heard but ignored it—too busy surviving.
No unvetted soul entered.
A neutral ground, even amid turf wars.
Violate its laws, face every faction's wrath.
Its overseer? Unknown, but powerhouse status certain.
No one spared the newcomer Zeon a glance—blissful anonymity.
First catch: a weapons shop.
Cold arms like swords and spears beside guns and cannons.
Firearms? Middling against monsters, killer on humans.
Red Scullpa thugs favored them.
With Awakeners scarce, arm the normies.
Awakeners stuck to blades.
Some fused with machines, but few.
Zeon passed without a glance—sand was his weapon.
Next: monster corpses.
Street vendors paled in comparison.
Zeon's interest piqued.
Ironclad Rhino carcass. They got that here?
The workbench held a D-rank behemoth: ironclad rhino.
Immense defense and charge power—could shred an armored bus like paper.
Tough solo; parties usual.
Shock: not local habitat.
South desert far from Neo Seoul.
And low value for size—no reason to hunt remotely.
Incidental encounter mid-hunt.
Rhinos pushing near Neo Seoul? Habitat shifts hitting here too.
The flame wolf pack he'd faced pre-city? Non-local too.
Chain migrations expanding territories.
Bad omen.
Timing with his arrival soured his mood.
Hope nothing comes of it.
Zeon delved deeper past monster flesh.
Goods grew wilder.
In a desert world, where did they source such variety?
He browsed it all.
Plenty, but nothing tempting.
His subspace brimmed with rarer loot—one piece could upend the market.
Then, one item hooked him.
Man-sized metal pyramid, humming with subtle mana.
Curiosity drew him close; the shopkeep approached.
"Prime gear. Buy it, no regrets."
"What's it do?"
"Mini mana generator. Converts magic stone mana to electricity."
"Such a thing exists?"
"From another colony? Neo Seoul runs on these. Identical, just scaled down."
Mana generators were commercialized.
City tech ran on magic stone power.
Low efficiency, sky-high price—niche buyers.
Needed mine hauls or premium cores. Slum folk? Dream on.
To merchants: white elephants smuggled from the city, unsellable.
Too bulky to hoard.
Hook a sucker, dump it.
"Thirty thousand sol. Bargain. Deal?"
Thirty kay: 30kg magic stones.
Slum rarity—faction leaders only.
Shopkeep knew, but fished anyway.
Zeon eyed it, spoke.
"Ten thousand sol, maybe."
"What? Insane! This rarity for ten kay?"
"Pass, then."
Zeon turned. Shopkeep panicked.
"Twenty-five!"
"Fifteen."
"No! Barely covers transport. Twenty-three."
"Seventeen. Max."
"You're killing me. Got the cash?"
Zeon grinned, produced a stone.
From some nameless monster kill.
Lustrous—leagues beyond mine scrap. Mana density overwhelming.
Shopkeep's eyes bulged.
Twenty kay plus easy.
No loss—could flip for premium.
"Deal! Stone for generator."
"Hey, you know better. This stone's twenty kay min. Throw in something."
"Snake! Viper!"
Shopkeep shook his head in defeat.
Zeon laughed.
"Deal...?"
"Deal!"