Woke Up and Still in Murim, Fuck! We're Screwed!!!
"Save me, please!"
Honestly, I'd been hoping it was all a dream and I'd wake up in my tiny one-room apartment. But that hopeful bullshit got utterly demolished, turning me into a slab of meat!
My one-room...! Sure, there was jack shit there, but compared to this Murim hellhole, it was basically Peach Blossom Paradise. I figured I'd wake up there, but nope—still stuck here.
"..."
Fine. Let's face it. I've been completely transported to another world. Some dimensional rift or bullshit like that flung me into Murim by accident, and the way back is sealed off. So, no choice but to survive here.
Same thoughts as yesterday... Sigh. Waking up changes nothing, so it just loops back in my head.
"Get it together!"
It's still early morning. To survive today, I gotta hit up Dahoebang for work. They remember my face from Dagumjeonjang, so mentioning that should do it.
Slap! I smacked my cheeks to wake up and got ready to head out. A working man's morning is hectic—squeeze every second out of nothing. Skipping breakfast sucks, but with no cash, it's a pass. I'm the type who must eat in the morning, but fuck it, no choice.
Grrrrowl. Stomach's fucking killing me, but I'll tough it out today and work. Full day pays 100 copper coins, so no more starving after tonight. Just focus on that.
"Hup!"
I let out a shout and stepped out of the Munro Guesthouse.
"Morning air's chilly."
But I'm used to it. My mornings back home always felt like this. I knew the way, so straight to Dahoebang.
"Door's open already."
They start crazy early. I went in and greeted them.
"Morning. Here for work today."
"Hm? You're too early."
"Too early?"
"Come back in about half a shichen."
Shichen? That's the Murim way of telling time, right? Half a shichen's gotta be thirty minutes or so.
"Ah."
Ah, fuck. Wasted sleep. From now on, wake up thirty minutes later. I can regulate without an alarm anyway. No helping it. I stepped out, loitered for about half an hour, and came back.
"Still not started?"
"One shichen left. Come back then."
What? I waited half a shichen thinking it was thirty minutes, but now a full shichen's left? Wasn't half a shichen thirty minutes? I pondered it and realized: one shichen is two hours. Half is one hour. Murim time is fucking complicated.
"Here for work!"
"You're full of energy... Let's see."
"Oh, actually, they told me to come back to Dagumjeonjang yesterday."
"Then take this and head there."
VIP pass. I grabbed the tag and went to Dagumjeonjang. Not many laborers yet—guess I'm an early bird. In any world, slack off in the morning and you don't survive. Those guys who beat me here probably came from elsewhere. If they're that diligent, I'll see them often. Make some connections? Nah. Even if I'm adaptable, it's only day two in Murim. Chat too long and my common sense gaps might make me look weird. Better play lone wolf for now. No bonding.
...Is this the time traveler's curse? So goddamn lonely.
"Morning! Heard I was great with a shovel yesterday!"
"Over here."
While waiting for the crew, that rat-faced kid from yesterday called me.
"Shovel."
"Yes sir!"
Grabbed the shovel and got digging right away.
"Work till dinner for 100 coppers."
"Got it!"
Can't pass up 100 coppers!
Scraaaape! No muscle pain. I'm a vet at manual labor. My skills unchanged from yesterday—bulldozer mode, scooping dirt and pushing forward.
"Ooh... Impressive as hell."
"You're a natural with that shovel."
Other diggers nearby started chatting me up.
"Hahaha, just got the knack. Anyone can do it."
"Really?"
Light chit-chat while working. Ears open, eavesdropping on their talk to pick up Murim commoner mindset, lingo, culture. Even bullshit helps fill my knowledge gaps. Gotta build that common sense.
"Heh heh heh."
Kept at it. But I'm no idiot burning stamina on enthusiasm. Pro tip: hustle when the boss watches, slack when not. Pace yourself to last the day. Stamina management is key.
"Gaaah!"
Midway, slurped water from the big barrel with a ladle for breaks. Gotta sync with the others—eye contact. They give water time, but solo moves look bad. Like that, noon hit.
"Gonna die."
"Don't even say it."
"Steak for dinner tonight."
Laborers gathered in groups, pulling out dry rations and dumplings for lunch.
Grrrrowl. You fuckers... I wanna eat too... Gut's raging. Starving to death here.
"..."
But no food, so what? Best to crash in the shade. Found a spot, lay down, closed eyes.
"Afternoon work starts!"
Boom—power nap done. Woke up.
"Ugh."
Time flew? Quick stretch and back to digging all afternoon. Not hard, just boring. Then it got dark.
"Work over!"
"Yee hawwww!"
Quittin' time! Pay time! Heart pounding in line. Gonna get my 100 coppers. What to do with it? Just thinking makes me happy.
"Here's 100 coppers."
"Thank you!"
Grabbed the strung coins—wave of insane gratitude hit. What the hell? This is all money? It's so goddamn heavy!
"M-my feet...!"
Too heavy to walk. Like money ghosts clutching my ankles. But nothing stops me. Stuffed 'em in my pouch, legs shaking like jelly, dragged ass back to Dahoebang. Returned the tag—day done. Free time!
"Grrraaah!"
Not much to do—just eat and sleep—but the thrill chased off the gloom.
Grrrrowl. Starving like a beast.
"Time to eat."
Tonight, real food. That roasted sparrow from yesterday? Hwahwajak or whatever? Get that, thin noodles, and provisions for tomorrow's lunch.
"Waiter!"
Into the guesthouse, called out.
"Yes sir!"
Different kid from yesterday.
"Table for one! Thin noodles, one hwahwajak! Plus lodging and some provisions for lunch tomorrow!"
"90 coppers, sir!"
"Gah!"
What?! 90% of my blood money gone in one go? Paid up. Noodles 10, hwahwajak 30, lodging 30... that's 70. Provisions must be 20. Head spinning.
"..."
Soul's escaping. Sat at my spot, but no strength left. Busted ass all day for 100, gone in a second to 90. At this rate, save 10 a day.
"10 coppers."
Ten days for 100. Miss one day, savings gone. Buy supplies midway? Fucked. Future flashed dark... No future here? Just labor till I drop from illness? Need rest days to avoid burnout, but save 10/day—can I afford a weekly off? Maybe one every ten days, then broke again. To rest, gotta make extra cash first.
"Dizzy."
No future. Am I really gonna slave away in Murim till I die? No... Can't be. Find another way.
"Food's here, sir!"
"Huh? Oh yeah?!"
Thud! Waiter set it down—negativity washed away. Tasty-looking thin noodles. But today, more: hwahwajak roasted sparrow right there.
"Is there food this good?!"
"Popular dish. Enjoy."
"Aah...!"
Perfectly golden sparrows on the plate. Three of 'em... Fist-sized, cute little roasted fuckers—three!
"I'm done for, fuck!"
The aroma! That crispy scent driving my nose insane! Meat! Flesh! Bones! Shiny fat! Fuck rotisserie chicken—I've got hwahwajak! How good will this taste? Trembling hands grabbed one, shoved whole in mouth. Licked the meat off bones, crunch—
"Hnnngh...!"
Oily juices exploded, flooding bliss. Heavenly. Sparrows this good? But short-lived—tiny bird.
Crunch crunch. Shredded in seconds. Teeth crushed bone with meat, tongue devoured fat. Perfect texture. Couldn't stop—devoured it lewdly.
"Grroooh...!"
Slurp! Inhaled hot noodles, slurped broth, crammed another hwahwajak—crunch crunch bones and all. Noodles mixed with shredding meat. Protein. Carbs. Fat—all dancing in my mouth. Ultimate nutrition? Sucked calcium from bones too.
"Guh...!"
Fun ends quick. Devoured noodles and sparrows, licked plates dog-style for last drops and grease. If Oldboy's Dae-su became that cop's dog, he'd lick shoes like this. Tears welled. Wiped 'em, grabbed 20-copper provisions pack, headed to room.
"Ah. Good meal."
Meat after ages—stomach full, satisfied.
"Want more."
Hwahwajak's perfect. Earn more, order two next time. Insanely good.
"Whew."
Alright. Wash and sleep. Fiddled with coins, checked provisions, went downstairs to well, washed, back to bed. Provisions... Half for breakfast, rest for lunch—last till dinner. Then eat again. Tomorrow, try gyeweisochae. Chicken gizzards stir-fry? Sounds nasty, but variety's key for nutrition. Health is wealth here.
"Haa."
And so, my second night in Murim passed.