Dream House

The office corridor was always the same.

Dry and gritty, like eyes that had gone without eyedrops for too long.

People in matching gray suits passed by without a word. No expression on their faces, a document folder or a cup of coffee in their hands. Some hurried through the corridor at a clipped pace, eyes glued to their phone screens; others greeted each other mechanically and lined up in front of the elevator like machines waiting their turn. Every single movement seemed scripted.

Nine in the morning to six in the evening. Locked inside those fixed hours, in an organization where even a brief lunch break demanded a guilty glance over your shoulder, I was simply enduring, one day at a time.

Truly dull days.

The next morning, I set off for work as usual, with that same awkwardness hanging over me. When would it ever fade? Probably not until the very moment I quit — some feelings just don't go away. But a strange ease had settled in one corner of my heart.

An ease worth five billion won.

Things I'd never noticed before began to catch my eye. As I stepped off the bus, even the scenery around the office looked different. The commuter crowd in front of the bus stop seemed to move a little slower today, oddly enough. Watching office workers scurry and sprint for fear of being late, I found them strangely endearing. All this time I'd been wedged in that crush myself, fighting my way into each day — but today it felt like I'd taken one step back to simply watch.

By the bus stop, a woman was selling gimbap from a food cart, the rolls taking shape neatly over her white gloves. A whiff of sesame oil drifted by on the breeze. Any other day I'd have walked straight past, but today, somehow, the smell felt warm.

Was there a shop like this around here?

When I turned my head, the ginkgo trees lining the sidewalk came into view, their green leaves swaying in the wind and catching the sunlight. Had my commute always held colors this vivid? For as long as I could remember, it had been nothing but gray.

Money I hadn't even spent yet. Just knowing it existed made the whole world look different?

Then it hit me: the world hadn't changed at all. I had.

Lunchtime. The rooftop.

"Hey, Youngsoo."

"What?"

"Isn't the world beautiful?"

"......."

Youngsoo walked over slowly, pressed a hand to my forehead, then spread his fingers in front of my eyes.

"How many am I holding up?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? Are you out of your mind? Suddenly the world's beautiful? Is this some post-divorce thing?"

"It's not."

"Sure it's not. Where'd you put your meds? Take them right now. You said I could give you two or three packets if it got serious, right?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

After putting up with his over-the-top clowning for a while, I said it anyway.

"If things get rough, tell me."

"Rough, my ass. What kind of man whines about his problems to his own friend's face?"

"I don't mean that. The coin you invested in — it got delisted, didn't it?"

"Ugh. Dude, way to stab right at the wound."

"You took out a loan too. If you're struggling, say so."

"Hmph. You think a man like Choi Youngsoo crumbles over some chump change? A trial this tiny isn't even a speed bump in life!"

"You lunatic. Anyway, I said my piece."

"Really? Then just lend me ten million. See, there's this new coin I've been looking at, and the moment it lists—"

"You absolute lunatic!"

I hurled one big curse at him and headed back to my desk. But even as I said it, if Youngsoo ever truly asked to borrow money, I'd give it to him. Not lend — give.

For Youngsoo, I could do that much. Back in college, when I was working part-time jobs to pay tuition, he was the one who showed up to take attendance in my place. And when he got bored, he worked alongside me at the restaurant where I waited tables — then handed his entire earnings over for my tuition. Looking back, I owe him more favors than I can count.

Though, to be fair, he's also the bastard who introduced me to my ex-wife.

One week later.

Finally, forty hours.

A suffocating week of routine had come to an end. How long had I waited for this moment?

This ability business was like a drug. I'd been counting down the days.

What will you give me this time? The tutorial handed me a lottery jackpot — maybe this round I'll get Powerball?

I picked up some beer and dried squid from the convenience store and headed home. As I stepped in, I found a certified letter waiting in my mailbox.

"What's this?"

Ah, right — time to renew the lease already. My ex-wife and I had saved hard for three years, dreaming of buying our own home someday. Now it was a pointless plan.

Time to start over. Somewhere new.

And with money in hand? I called the landlord and told him I wouldn't be renewing. Starting tomorrow, I should probably look at some real estate.

I ate a simple dinner, washed up, and came back out. Time to draw.

Both hands respectfully cupped, on my knees.

"Ability unlock!"

Dream House?

This was the ability made for me, right now! It was a shame it was one-time only, but it found me a house and handed me investment data on top of it.

Another jackpot. This was what forty hours of honest work was worth.

But I held back. I wanted to use it this very second — yet taking another day off tomorrow wouldn't do. If I fired it off carelessly and someone else snapped up the property first, I'd never forgive myself.

I'll save it for the weekend.

And the weekend came. With something to look forward to for once, time seemed to fly by.

"Dream House!"

"Seoul. A property that works as an investment — and that I could live in myself."

"Right in the heart of Seoul..."

And in Gangnam, no less. A Gangnam commercial building, about to become mine?

A sunny Saturday in Songpa-gu, on Macheon-ro. A residential district wedged between apartment complexes and schools — a lively neighborhood strip with steady foot and car traffic. At the corner stood a building with red brick walls that caught my eye immediately. On its sign: Seongjin Real Estate.

The moment I'd used the ability, I'd headed straight for the agency at the listed address. I rang the doorbell and stepped inside to find a middle-aged man with a thick head of hair swept back, sipping coffee.

"You're here about the property on Macheon-ro 1019-gil, aren't you?"

"Yes. That's the address."

The owner's eyes lit up at once.

"And here I was wondering who'd ever take it off our hands. Young man, fortune has smiled on you." He pulled out the paperwork and went on. "Even at the four-billion range, it's a genuinely good deal. Early this year the owner was saying he wouldn't sell for five billion. The ground floor is perfect for a shop, and the second floor is ideal for a jeonse rental."

"Mind if I see the inside?"

"Of course. You have to see a place like this with your own eyes."

We rode in the owner's car to Macheon-ro. The moment I pushed open the glass door on the ground floor, a high ceiling and spotless floors spread out before me. Few support columns meant the layout would work perfectly as retail — or as a café. The electric shutter, the ventilation windows, the heating and cooling — everything was brand new.

"A franchise café was supposed to move in here, but they pulled out during the pandemic. It's sitting empty now, but by the rents around here, you'd get at least fifteen million a month."

Following the wooden staircase up to the second floor, I found a home laid out as an open living room and kitchen. From the window, the residential complexes stretching toward the Han River were visible. Warm sunlight poured in, and the space was so generous that for a moment I actually thought, I want to live here.

"You truly won't regret this one," the owner said, buzzing with excitement. "I've been in real estate fifteen years, and a place like this comes around once every few years. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The owner's in a sudden bind and has to let it go. You're getting an absolute steal."

I nodded. "Is the price firm?"

"There's a little room to move. Though honestly, there's not much reason to shave it down — it's already below market."

He smiled and slid the contract toward me. "Sign this, stamp it, and the deal's done."

The pen trembled at my fingertips. Through the power of the System, a building in the heart of Seoul was about to be entered under my name.

Still — a deal's a deal, and you haggle what you can.

"Let's close it at four billion. Knock off the fifty million."

"Haha. The seller told me that's exactly as far as he'd go."

"Then we have a deal."

The moment my seal touched the paperwork, the familiar system notification rose before my eyes.

"Signing that contract really put me in a good mood."

"You've earned the right to smile! Conditions like these, in Gangnam of all places... the price is only going to climb from here."

The owner's voice grew more and more animated, but I quietly gazed out at the building beyond the window.

This is my building now.

If the System had been a person, I would have hugged it on the spot.

And once again, I found myself waiting — waiting for another forty hours of work, so I could unlock the next ability.

For the first time in years, I was looking forward to going to work.