Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Golden Almighty Corporation
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“Joking. Haha! Apologies to you, sir, but our Golden Almighty Corporation no longer conducts direct transactions involving entities since the Bloody Friday Incident.”
“Got it.”
I’d half-expected as much, but hearing it straight still left a pang of regret I couldn’t quite hide.
“However, what I just said is true. If we were still doing those deals, it would’ve required exactly that amount of gold for the transaction to go through.”
“What about information on entities? Is that off-limits too?”
“Oh! Information is fair game!”
I pulled the remaining gold bars from my bag.
“Ooh! Wow! Ooh! Wow! Ask away! I promise a fair trade befitting their value!”
“How much gold for info on the Bloody Friday Incident?”
“That’s an exception too, just like entities. Company bylaws strictly prohibit leaking internal affairs.”
No time to dwell on the disappointment—I moved on to the next question.
“How much for information on banishing or destroying Symbiosis, Danger, or Apocalypse-class entities from this world?”
“Starting at a minimum of 16 quadrillion 6,342 trillion 8,561 tons, and up to 1 to 97 times that amount per entity.”
“Does it have to be the gold I have on me right now? Or can I use gold I own elsewhere?”
“Golden Almighty Corporation only accepts gold you’ve brought with you in person.”
“What about a deal to summon gold I own from another location here?”
“Yes, that’s possible. It costs exactly 1 kg of gold to summon 1 kg of gold.”
I had four gold bars left—60 kg total. Using them all would end today’s dealings.
“Questions are free, of course. Information exchange is essential for any trade.”
“Let me ask again. Can you reveal the location of a specific entity?”
“Of course. But the required gold varies by entity, so please name the one you’re after, and I’ll quote the price.”
Lucky break. I asked about a few entities I’d long wanted to track down.
“The last remaining Monkey’s Paw.”
“13 tons of gold.”
“Entrance to a world with no one in it.”
“167 tons of gold.”
“Forgotten Alchemist’s Potion Belt.”
“16,780 tons of gold.”
I inquired about plenty more, but they all ranged from dozens to tens of thousands of tons.
“Suspicious Trader.”
“30 kg of gold.”
“That’s a bargain.”
“He always sends invitations to promising VIP customers. In my eyes, sir, you’ll be getting one soon. Had to price it low.”
A detail absent from the game or wiki. Like the other entities I’d encountered, the Suspicious Trader’s emergence into reality seemed to have spawned new lore unknown to me.
“I’ll take that deal.”
Or maybe it was just one facet of entities too vast for games or wikis to fully capture.
“Thank you!”
Two gold bars vanished in the blink of an eye. Simultaneously, the location of the Suspicious Trader etched itself into my mind.
‘Feels just like the notebook in my head.’
The suit groaned, cradling the first bar he’d taken and these two latest ones under his arms and in his crotch.
“Ooh, yeah! Ooh! Wow! Wooow!”
“Sorry to interrupt your fun, but how much for info on Dial TV for You?”
“That’s 30 kg of gold bars too. Normally more expensive, but as a courtesy for a repeat customer.”
“Deal.”
“Yes, sir!”
The location of Dial TV for You engraved itself in my mind.
“Ooh, oooh!”
The remaining two bars vanished into the suit’s embrace. They melted like slime in his arms, soon forming a sticky puddle on the floor.
“Gold! Wow! Golden sex!”
Rolling in it, he looked like a pig wallowing in a mud pit on a sweltering summer day.
“A fine transaction.”
“Satisfying on my end too.”
“Then I’ll be off.”
“Yes, terribly sorry we can’t see you out. Another staff member will guide you once you exit.”
I stepped outside after wrapping up. Moans echoed from behind all the way.
Big haul. A most satisfying deal.
‘Guess I’ll keep trading here from now on.’
A legitimate front that also trades entity info—score.
‘Most entities require too much gold to be feasible, but with some digging, viable ones should turn up.’
I’ll inquire every visit.
“Sir, for brilliantly concluding your first transaction with Golden Almighty Corporation and bringing top-grade gold, you’ve earned high points. Here’s our business card.”
“Thank you.”
On the way out, a staffer handed me a card. A woman whose plain features—much like the suit’s—would fade from memory the moment I left.
‘She’s a Suit too.’
It listed only the incantation to enter and the name “Suit.”
“No address?”
“Lately, troublesome foes keep targeting our company, so we relocate periodically. Security measures apply to all customers—your understanding is appreciated.”
The fine print on the back stated: Golden Almighty Corporation access limited to once per month; location changes each time and appears on the card.
“Come again.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Stepping out led to ordinary Jongno 3-ga.
‘Time to head back.’
I had business. While driving, reviewing future plans.
“Hey, you driving without eyes!?”
Should I grab Dial TV for You first? Or meet the Suspicious Trader?
“What kinda psycho are you! Hey, you’re unlicensed, aren’t ya!?”
No, better to meet the Suspicious Trader when I have safe entities or oddities in hand. Or wait for that invitation like the Suit suggested.
“Crazy psycho bastard! Don’t drive! Hey! Pull over! Stop!”
Yeah, Dial TV for You first.
-White sedan ahead, pull over to the roadside. Pull over.
My thoughts settled just as a police cruiser hailed me. As expected, I pulled over and complied.
“We’ll test for DUI first. Blow hard.”
The reading came back clean, naturally.
“…Not drunk driving?”
“Sir, how’d you even get your license?”
“Passed the written first try. Practical on the twelfth.”
“Where at? Gotta look into this.”
And so I was hauled to the station.
“Crossing the center line 27 times, driving on highway shoulder or bus/HOV lanes 11 times, speeding 50 times, illegal passing 37 times, lane violation 40 times, failure to maintain safe distance 112 times, failure to drive safely…”
The investigating officer and his partner were speechless.
“…All in one day?”
“Sir.”
The car was practically brand new.
“Total demerit points: 1,860. License suspended for three years.”
Now I was three years car-less.
“Fine paid in full.”
Plus a multimillion-won ticket to boot.
“Back to walking.”
Public transit home, then down to the basement. Deals with Shin Gu-hoe were set for the 1st each month, so I checked my gold bars, headed back up, crashed hard, and shook off the day’s fatigue.
[Next stop: Suwon. Suwon Station.]
Next day, straight on the subway to Suwon.
“Where to?”
“Hwaseong City, Sukgok-ri in Gyeonggi-do?”
“Plug it in the GPS.”
Faster from Suwon than Hwaseong—taxi for dozens of minutes.
“Here we are.”
“Thanks.”
Rural Hwaseong City, Gyeonggi-do. First time here, but the info in my head guided me instinctively like built-in navigation.
‘Right here.’
Old countryside house: front gate ajar, unknown breed dog tied in the yard wagging its tail, interior visible through the porch.
“Anyone home?”
“Yeah, comin’.”
Knocking the gate brought out what seemed the owner, an old grandma.
“Hello, I’m this kind of person.”
I handed her my pre-forged fake business card.
[Antique Collector: Lee Seung-hoon]
“Granny, years ago passing by, I saw you had an old TV around here.”
“Huh? When?”
“Dunno, it’s been so long I can’t recall.”
“Replaced the TV ages ago.”
“Anyway, I’ve gotten into collecting antique TVs lately and came to buy that one.”
“Oh, perfect! Been takin’ up space in the shed! C’mon in!”
Deal was easy. But not quick.
“Young man, eat before you go!”
“Haha, thanks, I will.”
Forums are full of rural hostility and shady dealings, but it varies by person—and this granny was a gem.
“How’s it? Donggeurangddeng left from Chuseok—suit your taste?”
“Delicious.”
“Aww, you eat so heartily, warms my heart. Got ribs and yukgaejang too—dig in.”
“But granny, why keep this beat-up old TV instead of tossing it?”
I pointed to the relic beside the table she’d given me. Rare cathode-ray tube model with dials for channel and volume—true antique.
“That? My late husband who passed said not to ditch it, so I stashed it in the shed.”
“Oh?”
“That’s right. He had the gift—nailed bad breaks and good fortune like clockwork. Folks said he should be a shaman, but he refused.”
This granny’s cooking was killer. Third bowl of rice, and my appetite hadn’t flagged.
“Since it was his word, I kept it. What’d he say exactly? Got dementia late on, couldn’t speak right—just mumbled to hold onto it. Never turned on, useless, so shed-bound. Must be busted.”
“Antiques gonna antique.”
Meal done, I pressed a fat wad of ten-thousand-won bills into her hands.
“Egad! This much?”
“Rare TV, hard to find.”
“Hubby was right after all. Called it somethin’ special.”
“Gonna head out.”
Took the TV home. Set it on the table and hit power right away.
“No dice.”
Staring at the silent, dark screen, I recalled its details.
‘Dial TV for You.’
Safety class.
Ability: Quietly watch, and occasionally it powers on, broadcasting good or bad events around the owner in news format.
‘Though as news, it covers more non-owner stories.’
A future-predicting TV, basically.
“Downside: no clue when it’ll turn on.”
In-game, it helped dodge dangerous entities or meet good ones.
‘Game activation chance was 1% per turn—not huge help.’
Then, the TV powered on.
[Good evening.]
[Your Dial TV News anchor, Anchor, here.]
The 1% triggered.