Cashing Out the Gold

I put in for leave and walked straight out of the office.

I didn't wait to see the approval come through. The team leader would handle it. Once, I would have swallowed whatever he said without so much as a squeak and gone back to my desk to sit down. A great deal had changed.

I had nearly died. I had walked another world. I had caught the men who tried to kill me with a magic item and sold them to a slaver. After a few days in which not a single thing had been normal, everything I used to file under normal, under only natural, struck me as faintly ridiculous.

I came home.

An old, worn-out apartment—the jeonse place we had started in as newlyweds, paid for with one lump-sum deposit instead of rent. Two rooms, a living room, a bathroom. One room had been the bedroom, the other a room for clothes. Of course, after the wedding that woman had slept in the bedroom alone most nights. I spread a blanket in the clothes room and lived there by myself.

I went into the bedroom.

A wide bed, and beside it a display case that had no business in an apartment like this, crowded with designer bags, shoes, clothes.

Insane.

Looking at it now, I couldn't believe I had let her get away with this for so long. If I had thrown her out back then, she never would have been sold off to a slaver. Right? I hope she lands with a decent master.

I thought about selling her things, then let it go. A few days might pass unnoticed, but sooner or later her family would start looking. Until then, I needed to live as if nothing were wrong.

I sorted out what came next.

With the plan set, I sent a text to my in-laws. There was hardly any coming and going between us anyway. My mother-in-law was the sort who had dumped a worthless daughter on me and then lorded it over me as if I had stolen the girl. I sent only what I needed, and I kept it short.

Still, people would be watching. Better to have the basics covered in advance. If she went missing, I would be the first one they suspected—and being suspected was not the same thing as having what I had done come to light.

The police could be as sharp as they liked. Once they learned Go Yumi had flown to Egypt, there would be little they could do. The Egyptian police were not about to tear through the streets of Cairo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looking for one unfamiliar Korean tourist. The real mistake would be trying to hide that she was missing and cover it up.

I sent the text and packed light. Then I went down from the apartment, started the old Hyundai Avante I had left parked, and drove for my hometown. Andong.

I found the old family place in Andong, a second-floor unit in an aging villa in the old part of town.

"What on earth brings you here out of nowhere!"

Startled, Mom greeted me with a smile filling her whole face.

"Finished a business trip, took some leave, and came down. Needed a change of air."

"Is that so? Well, get in here. Have you eaten?"

"I grabbed something."

"There's nothing in the house. Just doenjang-jjigae. Want me to heat that up for you?"

"Soybean-paste stew is the best there is. That's all I need."

In no time at all she had a fresh pot of rice going and a new batch of stew on the boil. In the old days she would have asked why I'd come alone, what about her daughter-in-law—but she already knew I was preparing for a divorce. At first she had been dead set against it. When I told her I was divorcing so I could be happy from here on, she stopped fighting me. And she never asked about Go Yumi again.

I ate until I was ready to burst, then sprawled on my stomach in the living room. Mom brought out fruit, sat down beside me, and peeled it to pop into my mouth.

"Here. Eat."

"Leave it. I'll pick at it myself."

"Just eat. You'll only pick at it anyway."

She stuffed an apple slice into my mouth as if she meant to force it down. I caught the piece between my fingers and bit it halfway through.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The firm apple cracked clean between my teeth.

"That's good."

"See? Good once you actually eat it."

Mom sat quietly at my side, peeling apples, while I watched the news on the living-room television. After a while I said it as if it were nothing.

"This place has gotten pretty run-down too."

"It's old. Over thirty years now."

"Then we ought to move."

"And where is there to go?"

"What do you mean, nowhere? I'm moving in this time. The new apartment. You can come there."

Mom's eyes went wide.

"Why would I go moving in there? You've got to start fresh in that place."

"Starting fresh is starting fresh. I'm going to be overseas for a while on company business anyway. Be a waste to leave it sitting empty. Once I move in, come look after the place for me."

"Overseas? Why? Where are you going?"

"Egypt. I've got to make a trip for work."

"How long?"

"About a year."

The temporary-use contract I had made with the necklace ran for one year. In that time I meant to travel all over the other world. Afterward I would have to decide whether I truly meant to inherit the mage's legacy and his last will. Of course, having already had a taste, I was leaning hard that way already.

I didn't know how large a thing the Magic Tower's approval—the condition the mage had demanded—really was. But the mere fact that I could use items so good they were practically a con, for ten years at the least, was already powerfully attractive.

Thinking over what I would do tomorrow, I lay down on the bedding Mom had spread and, for the first time in a long while, fell into a deep sleep.

I went out into downtown Andong and found the street where the gold shops clustered. Among them I picked an old place tucked into a corner and stepped inside.

"Come in. What can I do for you?"

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠owner, a man getting on in years, looked me over as he asked. I went up to the glass display and kept my voice low.

"You buy gold too, don't you?"

"Of course we buy."

"Do you ever buy at a cash price?"

Cash price. Put another way: would he buy it without reporting the sale. Strictly speaking it was illegal, but now and then a gold shop would buy for cash and sell for cash to dodge the value-added tax. The older places especially would take gold in cheap that way and move it on even cheaper for cash, skimming a margin as they went.

The owner gave me a quick once-over and asked again.

"What sort of piece, that you're asking?"

"Something from the family. Wondered if it would sell."

"Then let's see the piece first."

He would decide after he saw it. I set my bag on the glass case and opened it, drew out what I had wrapped in a handkerchief, and unfolded the cloth.

What came out was a gold coin I had brought from Gaia.

The owner turned it this way and that, curious, then fetched a scale and weighed it. Having checked the weight, he glanced at me sidelong.

"Mind if I cut it?"

In case someone had packed another metal inside to fake the weight. Saying he would cut it meant that if the piece was genuine, he would buy.

"Go ahead. But if it's real, you buy it."

"All right. Wait a moment."

He went into the back of the shop and came out again with a manual cutter. He set the coin on it and sheared the coin in half, checked the cut face, and rubbed it on a touchstone. Then the verdict.

"Cash price is 360,000 won a don."

A don is the old Korean weight for gold, a little under four grams. The buy rate I had looked up was 400,000 won, so he meant to take ten percent. Ten percent was no great fee, and selling it this way—so no questions got asked—was the better bargain.

"Let's do it."

The owner nodded, weighed the pieces again, and confirmed the total. Two gold coins. A little over thirty don. Eleven million two hundred twenty thousand won in all.

I still had plenty left to sell, but trying to move too much at once would be trouble. Every shop had its own circumstances, and walking out with tens of millions in cash in a single go was not easy.

"You'll want cash, not a transfer, yes?"

"That'd be better. If you can."

"Wait a moment. I'll step over to the bank."

I waited in the shop. About thirty minutes passed. The owner came back, opened a thick envelope, and showed me the bundles of cash inside.

"Here. Two bundles of five million, this million, twenty of the ten-thousands, and two more bills. Want me to count it?"

"Yes. Run it through for me."

He fed the bundles into the counter.

Whirrrrrr—

Whirrrrrr—

The machine confirmed the amount again.

"That right?"

"Thank you."

I took the rebundled cash, put it in my bag, said my goodbyes, and left the shop.

My hands had shaken a little. Now that it was done, it was nothing much. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Twenty-two gold coins in all. I would have to do this ten more times.

I need another way. Soon.

I left the Avante parked and stopped at a rental agency nearby to hire a car. It cost more than I liked, but I took a full-size SUV. If I was going to be out on the road, I wanted to travel safe.

I dropped my things at Mom's, then drove out toward Yeongju, Sangju, and the towns around them. I looked for gold shops that were obviously old and asked the same question: a cash-price buy. It wasn't a huge quantity. Around thirty don, ordinary people sometimes wanted a cash sale too, so I didn't draw much suspicion. Even so, I sold coins at only one or two shops in each city.

Getting rid of all of it took a full day. To be paid in cash, the banks had to be open, so the hours were never generous. I ate hamburgers on the move and kept at it, and in two days I had sold every coin I was carrying.

Three hundred thirty don in all. The rate varied by region, but I discounted roughly ten percent wherever I went. The money I made over those two days came to one hundred twenty-seven million nine hundred eighty thousand won.

When I got home, Mom was out—some errand, by the look of it. I sat down in the empty living room and opened the bag. Inside the emptied bag there was only a half-drunk bottle of water and one small pouch.

I took out the pouch and triggered the magic.

With the trigger word, everything inside spilled out in a rush and piled across the floor. Thick bundles of fifty-thousand-won notes poured out mixed with bundles of ten-thousands.

Carrying it around had been awkward, and it had kept me on edge. Seeing the money heaped up, though, I felt proud—and a little amazed.

The balance I still had to borrow to close on the pre-sale apartment came to two hundred thirty million won in all. Half of that, in two days.

Another world. Gaia. What a place.