Digging for Survival in Murim
I asked around and found my way to Dahoebang using the same method as before. It was a fairly large building, and by observing the people milling about and listening to their chatter, I could tell it was exactly like a labor agency.
"People are the same everywhere they go."
Murim or whatever, if you want to put food in your mouth, you gotta work. That realization made this Murim world start feeling a bit more familiar, almost cozy. My aunt never gave me a free pass on anything. I did all the housework. It's a warm memory etched in my heart. Anyway.
It was still morning, but close to lunchtime. Jobs like this are usually snatched up early in the morning, so yeah, I was running late. But if I couldn't find work here, I might really end up sleeping rough. No, without money, I'd definitely be homeless. And homelessness is dangerous...!
"This is driving me nuts."
Even in modern Korea, going homeless without prep is fucking dangerous. Freezing your ass off is just child's play. Usually, the local bums would crack your skull claiming it's their turf, and in the worst case, some punk kids on a "night patrol" might swing bats at you while pretending to clean up the streets. If you're unlucky, you could get beaten to death by middle-schoolers who kill for breakfast and cross the River Styx singing Arirang. Bandits or mountain thieves? High chance of getting jumped. If it's that bad in Korea, a guy like me roughing it in Murim would vanish like the ill-fated European nation of Basque Country around the 19th century—no trace left. One hundred percent.
I have to land a job somehow.
"..."
The main gate of Dahoebang was wide open. I watched people going in for a bit, then...
"Hello."
I greeted them and slipped inside. I saw a line of people, so I joined it. They all looked like job seekers just like me—hell, that was a relief. Seeing so many latecomers like myself eased my mind a bit. If it's this crowded, maybe I can ride the wave. So relax, Kim Geun-hyeop. You'll make it through somehow. Arm yourself with a positive mindset!
Those guys living in Futaba Park in Japan, the "director stones," they hustle day by day too. No way I'm worse than those bastards.
"..."
While waiting, I focused on the guy at the front.
"Anything will do. If there's work I can start right away, let me know."
"Construction site it is. Take this token to Dagumjeonjang. They're expanding and need a lot of laborers. Return it when you're done."
"Got it."
Construction? "Whoa...!" My heart was pounding. Fuck yeah, manual labor? That's my specialty! This might be my ticket to survival! Thump-thump! Seeing a way out made my chest race. Survival! What a beautiful word.
If I snag this job, I'll live. Hope sparked confidence in me.
"Next!"
My turn.
"Hello."
"Hmm? You look like you can handle some heavy lifting."
"Hahaha, I get that a lot."
I gave a smooth reply and flashed a warm smile to make a good impression. Positive responses and smiles are the basics of social survival. Oh, but come to think of it, am I taller than the average guy here? Makes sense—modern life beats peasant grub in nutrition. Anyway, that's a plus. In labor crews, guys who look strong are always welcome.
"I'm damn good at heavy work. Got any construction gigs? I'd love one."
"Of course. Take this token to Dagumjeonjang. They're expanding, need lots of hands. A strong buck like you will be popular."
"Dagumjeonjang!"
I shouted it like a true Murim man and asked,
"Where's this Dagumjeonjang?"
I'm no wuxia expert, but I know the drill: when you hear a fancy name, yell it out big. Especially nicknames or martial arts you've witnessed.
"You don't know?"
"No clue."
"Head out and go left all the way. You'll see the sign."
The guide handed me a token-like thing.
"What's this?"
Sign should make it easy enough.
"Proof we sent you from Dahoebang. Show it and get to work."
"Oho, got it. Thanks."
Seemed like they had tons of these gigs. Efficient system for day laborers—no red tape. Interesting, but not important now. Societies vary everywhere. Off to Dagumjeonjang I went.
"Let's see... ah."
Soon a sign appeared. Following it, boom—massive construction site. Shirtless laborers everywhere, busting their asses. Felt like home.
"Nice."
But damn, the building was huge. A palace hall or something? How much cash do these guys have to expand like this? Dagumjeonjang—sounds like a bank or big pawnshop. Pawnshops probably don't expand this big, so likely a bank or usury joint.
With that in mind, I bellowed a greeting.
"Hello! From Dahoebang for work! Need laborers? I'm great with a shovel!"
"Hmm?"
Yeah, drawing all these eyes and yelling felt embarrassing, but survival first. I'd die without this. For Kim Geun-hyeop's life, a little shame is nothing. Time to sell myself.
"Loud voice! Tall too! Over here!"
"Yes!"
That guy looked like the foreman. I bowed big again.
"Hello! Can I start now?"
"Damn right! Good at shoveling? Head to the digging pit—do as you're told!"
"Got it. Oh, here's the Dahoebang token."
"Hm. Good. Almost noon, so you'll get about 50 mun today."
50 coins! From what I gathered, enough for a day's living! Hell yeah! Path to survival!
"That so? What if I come early morning?"
"No slacking? 100 mun!"
"Understood!"
I bowed and headed to the pit.
"Hey, you. Shovel."
"Yes."
Some rat-faced prick with a sour mug handed it over.
"Go down and keep digging. Slack off, you're out. I'm watching."
"Got it."
His rotten face and casual tone pissed me off—inner black dragon rising—but this ain't modern Earth. Play smart. Just bow and scrape here.
Let's do this. Nail it, and they might call me back tomorrow. Steady gig? No fears. Time to seize survival with my honed life skills.
Whoosh!
I leaped into the pit.
"Dig here?"
"Dig."
"Yes!"
Checked how the other laborers worked.
"Hm."
Scanned their levels. Boring as hell. Calling yourselves laborers with that shoveling? All below me. That's not how you dig. Time to show 'em. Kim Geun-hyeop's two years of army-honed ultimate shoveling divine art!
Swoosh!
I unleashed my true power in righteous fury and thrust the first confident scoop.
"Irresistible impulse, Dejaaaah!"
Slide it in light, drive deep with body weight, lever it out easy. One scoop done, flowing naturally to the next like water. Using hips and core, fling the dirt up top.
Splosh!
Repeat at good pace. The art of shoveling. My pride.
"Ooh... that guy's good!"
"How's he so smooth?"
"Knows his stuff, huh?"
Laborers gawked and nodded at my divine art. Pro level.
"..."
Even the overseer watched. Finally recognizing my worth? Whatever—stand out, get remembered. In Korean sites, stiffing pay means facing wild violence, but this is Murim. Flaunt presence to dodge unpaid wages.
Focus on that.
"Hoo!"
Sweat poured as I dug. Hungry, but pay means food. Imagining a meal while sweating felt alive. Yeah. Murim schmimurim—life's about carving your path. Land anywhere, stay cool, find a way, do anything... Wait, shoveling in Murim? Shouldn't I be learning kung fu, swinging swords? Other worlds get cool shit, but day one shoveling? Crushes the ego.
Swoosh!
And so my first day in Murim passed.