Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Grimoire
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It was midnight, no different from any other day. I headed out for my part-time job and frowned at the delivery box sitting right in front of my door.
“……What the hell is this.”
I didn’t remember ordering any packages, but there was a fairly heavy box just sitting there all by itself.
I wondered if it was a misdelivery and tried to check the tracking number, but for some reason, there wasn’t a single label on the box.
‘Illegal delivery?’
No way to know. But it definitely wasn’t mine, so I carefully moved the box to the neighbor’s door and kept walking.
Better to avoid getting tangled up in some nosy bullshit.
I arrived at the convenience store not long after. I got the rundown on any oddities from the previous shift worker, put on my vest, and took my seat at the counter.
“……Hoo.”
With winter in full swing, the store’s heater made it warmer than my place. A bit dry, sure, but beats freezing.
I zoned out for a bit, checked stock on the shelves, then headed back to the counter.
I restocked the empty cigarette rack. I paid for one pack and pocketed it separately—mine.
Cigarette prices were insane these days, but quitting? No chance.
‘Maybe if the opportunity comes up.’
No such luck yet. I let out a pointless chuckle, pulled out my phone, and killed time until a customer showed.
Dopamine hits from shorts, scrolling posts on the community boards.
My go-to gallery was Mystery Gallery. Folks swapped stories and tips on all sorts of weird anomalies. Mostly bullshit with no real basis, but reading it like fiction was kinda fun.
Aliens, monsters, that kinda thing. The “how to deal” advice actually sounded plausible sometimes.
[Title: How to Exterminate Aliens]
[Anonymous]
So, what do our fellow countrymen do if they run into hostile aliens?
Answer: Poke ’em with a tree. Wood’s a rare resource in space, so stabbing them with it usually kills ’em dead on the spot.
So, dear countrymen, keep this in mind and use it if you ever meet an alien.
(Frog dropping a thumbs-up)
[Comments]
-Wow, super helpful. If I meet an alien that looks like you, I’ll definitely stab it with a tree!
ㄴOne that looks like you? Too hot, gotta breed with it…… Spare it……
ㄴ(Then die lol)
[Title: How to Become a Mage]
[Serious Magic Addict]
To become a mage, you either apprentice under one or get your hands on a grimoire.
Grimoires come in two types: ones written by mages, and ones written by outer gods.
Hard to tell apart by looks. A mage can spot it at a glance, but if you’re not, you gotta read the contents. If it’s an outer god’s grimoire, you’ll get exposed to otherworldly knowledge and lose your mind. No coming back from that. You’re a gibbering mad mage now.
If you think you’ve found a grimoire, hit me up in the comments first. I’ll check it out and let you know.
[Comments]
-Found what might be a grimoire? Can you check?
ㄴSerious Magic Addict: Send pics to [email protected].
ㄴSent.
ㄴSerious Magic Addict: You little shit, isn’t this just some trash BL fanfic? You’re begging to get wrecked.
ㄴ(Lmao trying to pass that off?)
ㄴSerious Magic Addict: Don’t let me catch you.
I burst out laughing at the comment thread.
Tap tap.
I hammered out a reply of my own.
-How do you even know if it’s a grimoire or not?
ㄴSerious Magic Addict: Start with the cover—it’s distinctive. Any normie can tell it’s no ordinary book. Feels like an ancient tome.
Grimoires pick their owners, so they just pop up in front of them outta nowhere. If a book appears that you’ve never seen before, boom—that’s your grimoire.
“Some solid worldbuilding.”
I started typing a response, but a customer walked in, so I set my phone down and stood up.
After that, no time for the community. Dealing with assholes drained me dry.
Night shifts at the convenience store were fine otherwise, but drunk idiots gave me headaches. Barely any customers, yet a few ate up all the time—somehow made the fatigue worse.
Wanted to quit, but no other part-time gigs around here.
Gotta pay the bills somehow. Just grit my teeth and bear it.
“Thank you.”
I flashed my customer-service smile and saw them off.
The dark sky was lightening up. I finished closing tasks and waited for the next shifter.
Moments later, a woman in a deep hood stepped inside. She looked beat, yawning hugely as she eyed me.
“Any incidents?”
Lee Yu-bin.
My relief. I took off my vest, stretched, and answered.
“Nope. Delivery’s coming soon—just sign for it.”
“Ugh, heavy shit, hate it. Can’t help a girl out?”
“Sure.”
“Way too quick on that no~”
Yu-bin giggled and took the vest. I told her to hang in there, lit a smoke, and headed home.
Morning streets filling with people. Roads clogged with cars, suits and uniforms popping up. I glanced at them, then made for my studio.
‘Grimoire, huh, that’s what they called it.’
The thought hit me as I reached the top of the stairs—a post from Mystery Gallery.
Find a grimoire, become a mage.
Pure fantasy stuff.
If that poster was legit, tons of folks must stumble into magic by chance. Outer gods real too.
‘Wonder if outer gods all look like Cthulhu.’
Silly thoughts as I stood at my door.
The delivery box from before midnight? Gone. Owner must’ve claimed it.
No big deal. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. Flicked on the light in the dim living room, tossed my puffy jacket onto the bed.
That’s when our eyes met. Or so it felt.
“…….”
On the bed. A pristine white book with silver embroidery stood there.
Nearby, a shredded box lay scattered. No mistake—that delivery from midnight.
“Fuck me.”
Cold sweat down my spine. I rushed to check the window locks.
All secure. No signs of breakage.
Door too. No forced entry. Solid steel door looked just like when I moved in.
Ghost story shit.
No trace of anyone entering, but the box I’d left at the neighbor’s was in my room? Shredded, with this random book sitting pretty?
The more I thought, the dizzier I got. Ignored the book for now, checked if anything was missing.
Nada.
Not much to steal anyway, but why break in and take nothing? Pointless.
Searched high and low—no anomalies. Just the torn box and fancy book.
Had to face it.
“……Teleported itself in here?”
I glared at the book on the bed and muttered.
I knew it was bullshit.
Impossible by common sense.
Top scientists would scoff. But to me, it was the most plausible explanation.
Anything else didn’t add up.
“What are you?”
Just in case, I grabbed a chopstick and poked it.
Instantly, instead of toppling, the book lit up like crazy, blasting pure white light everywhere.
“Shit.”
Couldn’t even run—froze, watching. Brain stalled from the impossible anomaly.
Light faded. Book still there, plain as day.
White cover, silver embroidery.
Thick as a philosophy textbook or law tome. But the scent? Not paper—floral, alluring.
I reached out on instinct, then froze as a thought hit.
Gallery post flashed in my mind.
‘Distinctive cover. Ancient tome vibe. Appears outta nowhere. If a book shows up that wasn’t there before.’
That’s a grimoire.
Ridiculous, just novel fodder—I’d thought. But right then, as it crossed my mind, the book floated up, agreeing.
Drifted right to my face, pages rustling open.
Pure white pages parted, revealing title and author.
[Hand of Recreation]
[Author: Recomposer of All Things]
[This grimoire was penned by the outer god ‘Recomposer of All Things,’ hereafter ■■■■. It details methods to recreate inorganic and organic matter. Also records various alchemies and magics. No previous owner, so memory access unavailable. Rejoice. You are this book’s first master.]
“Ah.”
Somehow reading in Korean, I snatched it up without thinking and sat on the bed, clutching my head.
Looks like that gallery post was the real deal.