Just Living, That's All

Because reviewers on the Auction House were anonymous, plenty of people left jokes or outright malicious posts, and most hunters had learned not to trust the comments.

The same old goods always sold, and the same old goods were all that ever sold — so the comment thread under the fresh potion Karen had listed caught the eye of every F-Rank hunter on the board. Once the replies spilled over several pages, restless, curious hunters started buying it themselves.

"It's only four hundred bucks. I'll just try it myself."

"If it's fake, I'm reporting it to the Auction House right now."

"Huh? What is this?"

"It actually works?"

Hunters who had tasted that so-called blessing started racing to leave reviews of their own, and both sales and review counts began climbing at a breakneck pace.

F-Rank hunters, stunned by a 50% potion the likes of which they had never seen, raced to leave five-star reviews — and something unprecedented happened on the Allied Hunter Auction House.

An F-Rank potion had climbed onto the real-time ranking board on the Auction House's main page — the most visible spot on the entire site. There were all kinds of live charts, Highest Price and Best-Selling among them, but cracking the Real-Time Best list, which ranked listings by nothing but the quality of their star ratings, was no easy feat.

Plenty of hunters left a single star even after receiving a good product, and the picky palates of people who put their lives on the line for a living were nearly impossible to please.

It was only an F-Rank potion, and yet it had the attention of hunters everywhere. In the middle of all that, one F-Rank hunter who had been out killing slimes left a review out of genuine gratitude.

Being F-Rank did not mean a hunter knew nothing. If anything, standing at the very bottom of the hunter world meant running into ugly truths more often than most.

The people at the top did not even treat those below them as human, and so they had a habit of letting their dirty laundry show.

Posting your own Hunter Number on an Auction House page that anyone could see was extraordinarily dangerous. Even so, a hunter whose life the potion had saved found the courage, just in case. And sadly, that F-Rank hunter's fears began to take shape as reality.

"Hey, Manager Kang. You seen this? Something interesting just went up on the Auction House."

"The Auction House, sir?"

At the director's sudden summons, Manager Kang had come running. He forced down a breath that was still a little cold in his chest. Then Director Choi flicked his watch and projected a listing into the air, and the manager's eyes went wide.

"An F-Rank mana potion at 50%?? Is this real?"

Manager Kang looked to his superior, Director Choi — and the director's face twisted as he exploded.

"Why are you asking ME? That's YOUR job to find out! You should have seen this coming before it ever went up! What have you been doing this whole time? Obviously Daehan Pharmaceutical is trying to shake us."

Fuck. How the hell would I know? I'm already drowning in the work I've got... I can't do this anymore. This filthy job. And this bastard was parachuted in.

Manager Kang bowed his head and said he was sorry, while silently hurling every curse he knew at the man in front of him. It was the only way to pour even a cup of cold water over the lava boiling in his gut.

He had carved himself to the bone to get here, joining Joseon Pharmaceutical — one of the Association's foremost drug companies, the company of a president he had always respected. But what good was a great company? No matter where you went, people were the problem.

Haa... think of your daughter.

Manager Kang pictured the little girl born last year, the one who broke into an angel's smile the instant their eyes met. He swallowed his anger and spoke as if nothing were wrong.

"The reviews are quite strong, though. We should also consider the possibility that this isn't Joseon's doing — that an individual developed it..."

"Don't be ridiculous! We're paying patent fees just to manufacture 30% F-Rank potions, and some random nobody is supposed to have made the world's first 50% potion?"

"But looking at every precedent, a corporation couldn't pull something like this on the Auction House..."

"Ah! I don't care about that! This kind of marketing is great, right? Try something similar. Something fresh, dynamic, and effective, like this."

What a load of crap. If I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had something like that I wouldn't be a manager — I'd be an executive director by now. No. I still wouldn't get promoted with this bastard in the way.

"But..."

"Ah-ah! Manager Kang, I hear Team 3 next door posted excellent net profits? You do know the mid-year evaluations are coming up, right?"

"...I'll look into it."

While Joseon Pharmaceutical was flailing like this, the building right next door — their rival, Daehan Pharmaceutical — was moving in an entirely different direction.

"Where is it from?"

It was an executive meeting of everyone who moved Daehan Pharmaceutical. The president, seated at the head of the table, spoke, and the Head of Intelligence stepped forward to brief the room.

"It's an individual. Given how the Auction House works, a corporation couldn't do this. It's been a week since the listing went up and product is still being posted, so it's genuine. Furthermore, Development's analysis confirms it is 50%."

"An individual, huh... Did Development and Research run an analysis?"

Analysis, he said — meaning, had they figured out how it was done, and could they turn it into a product. It was an individual, so crushing them would be simple enough. There wouldn't even be a legal problem.

"Our apologies."

The heads of Development and Research rose and bowed at the waist. The president had expected as much. He waved them back into their seats and turned again to the Head of Intelligence.

"Have you identified them?"

"Not yet. However, the parcels were delivered without using the parcel teleporters ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠installed in the capital-area safe zones, which indicates the seller either doesn't live in the capital region or is living in a danger zone. The Auction House is blocking us, but if we trace the delivery infrastructure piece by piece, we should have a lead soon."

Every single thing the Head of Intelligence was describing was illegal. No one in the room pointed that out.

Even in the old days, when the law had been clearer than it was now, things like this had been quietly waved through. With Gates in the world, there was even less to say. The president smiled.

"Good, good. Report to me directly on this matter. Find them as fast as possible."

"Yes, sir."

And so the potions he had made were sending shockwaves through F-Rank hunters and the pharmaceutical world alike — while the man who had thrown the stone into the pond was sitting comfortably on the couch, watching TV.

"Ohhhoho! Samsaek. Look at that archery! Look at that!"

"...Kkuing. I've seen more than enough archery to last a lifetime."

"Ah... right. You were actually there."

Fair enough. A scholar-official had once tried to kill him with a bow, so it probably wasn't a fond memory. Samsaek looked at his loafing master with a look of pure pity. At first the man's presence had been terrifying. Now he was indistinguishable from what the internet called a shut-in bum.

"This drama came out in 2006, the year I vanished! This is Jumong we're talking about — it hit a 41% viewership rating!"

"..."

"Damn... look at him shoot."

"Kkuing... okay. It is pretty good."

Even Samsaek, who had been grumbling, got pulled in once the music swelled and the archery contest hit its peak, and he conceded the point in spite of himself. He had spent most of his life buried in the mountains with almost no chance to touch human culture, and so he sank into the K-drama right alongside his master.

The princes competing against Jumong loosed their arrows, and at last it was Jumong's turn.

"W-wait? Why is he covering his eyes?"

"Kkuing?"

Despite our concern, Jumong on the TV pulled every arrow from the quiver, flung them down, and planted them in the floor. Then he bound his eyes with the cord from his hair and began to shoot.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The instant an arrow touched the string it was gone, and the arrows began packing themselves into the very center of the target.

"Oh... oh... that's Jumong for you!"

My fist clenched on its own, and even Samsaek's paw pads started to sweat. When every last arrow had struck true, the king watching the scene called to mind the finest archer he had ever known. And from the king's lips came that name.

"YEAAAH! That's right! Haemosu is Jumong's father! Don't you ever look down on Jumong again!"

"Kkuing! Kkuing!"

And so, unlike the cutthroat world outside, Karen and Samsaek's day was a peaceful one.

"Hey, Master. Aren't you going to sell more of those potions? Restock requests keep coming in."

"I'm not short on money. Why would I work?"

Back then I scraped every coin together, bought things, even built the enormous mansion I'd once dreamed of and hired the lot — butler, servants, a chef, a gardener. It was wonderful at first, of course. But as time went on...

It's all pointless.

The way people in novels and movies lavish money around and actually enjoy it — that's a talent too. I'd rather wear something comfortable than expensive clothes dripping with diamonds.

Clang. Clang.

"Ohh, look at that. Now they're doing a sword fight."

"Kkuing!"

Yeah. What else is happiness supposed to be? Lying on a plush couch, cracking open snacks, watching dramas and movies. That's happiness.