Securing the Funds
The shutter of Baek's Drugstore remained firmly closed for days on end.
Those in the monster raid industry figured Baek Hongpyo, the boss, had taken his staff on vacation.
They'd been run off their feet nonstop, after all.
Baek was notorious for treating his employees like gold.
So everyone figured they could wait a day or two.
But as day three passed, then four, then five—with no sign of the pharmacy door opening—
"What's going on?"
"Why aren't they opening?"
"Damn, my stock of mosquito poison antidote is running low."
"You think they're bust?"
"Nah, no way. I have Baek's number—I'll give him a call."
"Already tried. Went straight to voicemail."
Unease began to spread.
Baek's Drugstore was the only place to buy mosquito poison antidote.
What if they never got to buy it again?
They'd have to suit up in those godawful anti-mosquito gear suits once more.
But Baek's Drugstore stayed shuttered the next day.
And the day after that. And the day after that. Once down, the shutter showed no sign of rising.
In the midst of it all, rumors started to circulate.
— Reports of abnormal reactions to mosquito poison antidote.
— Demands to disclose the formula.
— The autonomy committee might halt sales.
— Baek and the developer shut down under pressure.
A town of two million felt surprisingly small.
The rumors spread like wildfire.
"Abnormal reactions? Bullshit. I've got every allergy under the sun, and I chug this stuff like water."
"Never seen a single person have issues from it."
"How could it be bad? It's sold millions already—this is sabotage."
Counterarguments popped up,
but they were quickly drowned out.
"Come on, where there's smoke, there's fire. No drug's without side effects."
"I agree. Friend of mine works in the autonomy committee's pharma approval department—says the complaint calls are piling up."
"So who had the side effects? Smoke, you say? Then where's the fire? Name one person."
"Fuck, I hate that proverb most of all. Spread bullshit rumors, then when called out, 'no smoke without fire'—those assholes."
Even the kids Baek had raised with devotion jumped in.
An orphanage alum running a beauty salon, chatting with a customer.
"My husband's been looking gaunt lately."
"Why's that?"
"Can't get mosquito poison antidote, so no energy for hunts."
"Oh! You mean the stuff from Baek's Drugstore?"
"You know about it?"
"Of course. Heard someone threatened them."
"Threatened?"
"Why keep the antidote exclusive? Demanded supply, spread rumors, blocked other pharma imports?"
"Who was it?"
At a bar counter, a bartender—an orphanage alum—serving patrons.
"Word is YJ Drugstore's involved..."
"Tch, knew it. Jo Hoonseok from YJ—everyone knows he's greedy. How many pharmacies has he crushed like that?"
"Really? I didn't know."
"Anyway, heard anything about restocking?"
"Not sure. Dad—er, Baek—said the developer's pissed."
"No wonder. I'd be too."
An awakener alum from the orphanage, talking with colleagues.
"I'm never buying from Gurye pharmacies again."
"...Where you getting meds then?"
"Namwon or Hadong via delivery. Even if it's pricier."
"Yeah? Count me in. Looks like Baek's furious."
Rumors swirled and multiplied.
This wasn't just pharmacy turf wars.
Since the mosquito poison antidote, how many awakeners and compatibles had flocked to Gurye?
Monster hunts boomed, the economy grew, and wave safety improved—it was inevitable.
"We can't just sit here."
"Why's the local paper so quiet?"
"Trash journalists, obviously. Sucking up to Jo Hoonseok for handouts."
"'Free, free,' they say, but Gurye's the least free place around."
"Took you long enough."
Some took action.
Drugstore boycotts. Raid team walkouts.
Active Jirisan jungle monster raid teams dropped by more than half.
It wasn't just protests.
The sales halt on mosquito poison antidote played a part.
Veterans who'd tasted its benefits now balked at hunting without it.
No one went to Gurye pharmacies anymore.
Even with steep shipping, they ordered from out of town.
The mood grew tense.
Gurye Autonomy Committee began discussions.
Three standing committee members convened.
The mosquito poison antidote conflict raging now.
After over an hour of debate, they prepared final statements to conclude.
First, Nogodan Guild Master Lee Jeonghak.
"We must intervene. Summon Jo Hoonseok to the committee and grill him on collusion and bullying small pharmacies."
Not out of righteousness, by any means.
Awakeners and compatibles sided with Baek's Drugstore.
Even Nogodan's locals—Gurye's homegrown guild—were furious.
How long since liberation from mosquito poison?
Back to thick anti-mosquito suits for hunts?
Nailing Jo Hoonseok was the fastest fix.
But others disagreed.
Cheonwang Group Chairman Min Dongyeol, Gurye-rooted powerhouse.
"I oppose. Approvals are too lax. Side effects emerged this time too. Yet no formula disclosure..."
"Side effects? Got proof? We analyzed every ingredient already."
"What about Jo Hoonseok the committee member? Evidence he bullied small pharmacies?"
"So we do nothing?"
"It's a free city. Can't persecute over this. Especially our own."
Lee Jeonghak shook his head, eyeing Interior Ministry Officer Ji Gwangin.
Final call: majority vote among three.
Ji Gwangin smiled.
"I agree with Chairman Min. Jo's served Gurye loyally for years. It'll resolve smoothly. Let's trust him."
Decision made.
But Lee glared at Ji.
'Bastard took Jo's money.'
Of course!
With Gurye Pharmacy Association's capital, squashing Baek's was easy.
Min too.
He owned bio subsidiaries and pharmacies.
Craved the formula most.
Jo handling it meant no dirty work.
"Fine. We'll watch."
Lee backed off.
Who sold didn't matter.
Just sell soon.
Jo Hoonseok was confident.
Crush Baek's Drugstore.
But they fought back hard.
Preemptive sales halt?
'Playing the public opinion card?'
Ridiculous fools.
As if he hadn't anticipated it.
Feared public backlash?
He was used to it.
What mattered: committee leanings.
Cheonwang's Min Dongyeol—near-ally, pharmacy empire.
Vice-minister Ji Gwangin: soaked in association bribes.
Main worry: militia Nogodan Guild Master Lee Jeonghak.
'Fists trump law.'
If he moved, even Jo couldn't stop it.
Just heard: Lee stays put.
'Perfect!'
Phase two.
Muzzle local media.
Then met Gurye bank branch managers.
"Demand early repayment from Baek's Drugstore."
"Uh, th-that..."
"Choose: Gurye Pharmacy Association, or obvious bankrupt Baek's."
"Understood."
Cut the cash flow.
In free Gurye, true freedom was money.
And they had more.
He'd win.
Taeju had a packed schedule.
Too busy.
Eventually reopen Baek's, stockpile antidote for sales.
Plus develop spore poison camel goral antidote on the side.
His building's basement lab brimmed with 20L barrels of pure antidote.
Rough count: 300 barrels. In 10ml vials? 1.8 million doses. No room to step.
Couldn't make more—out of space.
Solid.
That stock alone was a fortune.
But one worry nagged.
"Baek, how's the orphanage finances?"
"Uh, h-holdin' up. Donations comin'. If short, l-loan it is. Haha."
"Loan? Didn't the bank demand early repayment?"
"...How'd you—?"
"Employee alum told me."
"Ah..."
Baek Hongpyo hadn't wanted to mention it.
Worried it'd drain morale.
Planned alternative funding.
"We'll cut back. Tuition, comms, transport, books—surprisingly slashable. Buys months."
"Why cut? Kids have it hard enough."
"But money..."
"Don't cut a penny."
Taeju was firm.
"Don't worry. See that antidote stock?"
"Yes."
"Sell it all."
"Th-then reopen the store—"
Taeju grinned.
"No. Not through the store. Jirisan Defense Legion requested supply, right?"
"...Oh? Yeah, now I remember."
"Sell a million vials. Same price: 50,000 won each."
Baek Hongpyo's face lit up.
"Brilliant! Th-thank you."
"No biggie. I'm in it for profit too."
"I'll negotiate now."
500 billion total.
Drugstore cut: 150 billion.
After taxes: over 130 billion.
Plenty post-repayment.
"And hint to the military."
"Hint?"
"Developed spore poison camel goral antidote too. Interested?"
"Sp-spore poison camel goral? ...No way—that soup from the feast?"
"Yep. Goral meat."
"Lord! No wonder it stuck to my ribs."
If real?
Goral hunts viable.
Those rare corpses—fought dead by monsters, bought by palace officials.
Civilians taking it? Slashes wave casualties.
"Spore antidote pricier than 50,000, right?"
"Obviously."
Empire Army Jirisan Defense Legion Major General Oh Jinhyeong read his aide's report with a grim face.
"Whew. Mountains beyond mountains."
Paju succession strife.
Mana rejector eldest, stepmother, half-sibs at imperial academy.
Oh knew the drill.
Territorial feuds weren't rare—still happened.
Kim Taeju, no paternal talent, exiled to Seoraksan Outpost. Assassination threats, discharged. Disowned.
Bad blood with military.
Oh desperately needed mosquito poison antidote.
South Jirisan: civvie awakeners thinned monsters.
North?
'Any way out?'
Massive airstrikes on Jirisan for extermination?
Triggers wave.
Monsters scatter everywhere.
Mass casualties?
'Demotion.'
Passive defense? Same result.
Antidote essential for aggressive ops.
'Gotta request in person.'
Never mention Kim Ungbang.
Then—
"Major General!"
Aide bursts in, no knock.
"What?"
"Baek's Drugstore offers mosquito poison antidote supply."
Oh shot up.
"What? Q-quantity?"
"A lot."
"How much?"
"One million vials. 500 billion."
Money issue now?
"Legion reserves?"
"Sufficient."
No brainer.
"Buy it. No—half upfront to lock it."
"Yes, sir. Oh, Baek mentioned something else."
"What?"
"Spore poison camel goral antidote developed. Interested?"
"...Pardon?"
Misheard?
"The ones spraying poison spores?"
"Yes."
"Roast 'em, juices fountain—heavenly taste?"
"Correct."
"R-real goral spore antidote?"
"That's what he said."
Oh grabbed his smartphone.
"Get Baek's number! Talking direct."
End of Securing the Funds