Chapter 1: Money and Talent Pour In
Chapter 1: 9.56 million won (1)
“Two days…”
He had been unconscious for two days after a traffic accident and barely regained consciousness.
It felt like he had a dream.
But it was hazy, and he couldn’t remember it clearly.
- Because of the Grim Reaper’s mistake…
- A gift…
- In case it isn’t fulfilled…
- Minimum penalty…
He seemed to have heard something like that.
Whatever. Screw it.
He shook his head and slowly raised his upper body. Watching him, Lee Shin-woo let out an admiring sound and started peeling a tangerine.
“Damn, you’re seriously impressive.”
“What is?”
Lee Shin-woo popped the whole tangerine segment into his mouth and reached out to lightly poke Ryu Seong here and there on his body.
“Ow—hey. Ahem. Doesn’t hurt, right?”
“Nope.”
“How the hell are you this fine after getting hit by a small car?”
“Hey. I was out cold for two whole days. How am I ‘fine’?”
“But your bones aren’t broken. No fractures either. That’s good enough.”
“Well… yeah, I guess.”
“No visible injuries, yet you were unconscious for two days—I’m kinda curious about that too, but hey, good is good.”
He really was freakishly fine. The only explanation was insanely good luck.
“Still not discharged?”
“Yeah. They said they want to monitor me for a few more days.”
“That makes sense. With traffic accidents, the aftereffects often show up right when you think you’re perfectly fine.”
“I seriously feel completely normal though…”
“You never know. Just hang in there a few more days.”
“Tch, fine, whatever. At least I’ve got my smartphone. Without it I’d have died of boredom.”
“Pfft, true that.”
“But what about your chicken shop?”
“It’s my off day today, you bastard.”
“Oh right, yeah. But isn’t the off day actually busier for you?”
At those words, Lee Shin-woo’s expression stiffened for a moment.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned his head away.
“Ahem—still, my friend’s in the hospital. Had to come.”
“Yeah, fair enough. Ah, I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick.”
After Ryu Seong came back from the bathroom, they kept chatting for a while. But it didn’t last long. A sudden phone call made Lee Shin-woo stand up with an apologetic look.
“Sorry, man—I gotta head out.”
“Knew it.”
“My wife says the kids are crying way harder than usual and asked me to come help.”
“Both of them?”
“Yeah, both. How do they manage to act exactly the same?”
“Well, they’re twins. Man, you really have it rough.”
At that, Lee Shin-woo mechanically curled the corners of his mouth into a smile.
“Rough? Nah, it’s happiness.”
“Bullshit.”
“Pfft, anyway—sorry about this.”
“It’s fine. Go already.”
“See you next time.”
Ryu Seong waved him off half-heartedly, and Lee Shin-woo hurried out.
Alone time again.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, he clicked his tongue at his own pathetic state.
Tsk. This time I was actually confident.
Of all times, getting into a car accident on the way to a job interview. Looked like he’d be stuck unemployed for a while longer.
“Sigh.”
At least I’m alive.
Even while comforting himself like that, his hand was already operating the smartphone, opening a job-search site. He roughly calculated his discharge date and prep time, adjusted the filters, and started scrolling through job listings. He was pretty focused when—
[Ding!]
Something like a bell rang inside his head.
“Hm?”
He looked around, and a semi-transparent window appeared before his eyes.
[Quest Activated!]
[Dig in the ground—will you find 500 won?]
[Money is precious and important to everyone. That’s why so many people work hard to earn it. However, sometimes how you use money matters more than how you earn it. Take this one small step to slightly change the direction you’ve been living in until now. Right now—go donate 500 won anywhere!]
[Remaining time: 10 minutes]
[Success Reward: Random Card, Good Deed Points]
[If you fail the quest, you will suffer from chills and headaches for 3 hours.]
[This is your first quest.]
[Penalties will be applied every time the time decreases.]
It was a completely out-of-nowhere situation.
“What the…?”
He closed his eyes, shook his head, and opened them again. The bizarre text blocking his vision had vanished.
Did I… see that wrong?
But what was this lingering unease?
Nah, no way I’m going crazy.
Pushing the stray thoughts aside, he went back to browsing job listings. Five minutes passed like that.
[Remaining time: 5 minutes.]
[Minor penalty activated: Mild headache and chills.]
The semi-transparent window and text appeared again. Before he could even check the penalty details, his whole body started throbbing.
“Ugh?”
His head pounded, his vision spun, and his stomach churned.
W-what the hell?!
He froze in panic for a full minute.
[Remaining time: 4 minutes.]
[Second penalty activated: Symptoms worsening.]
The symptoms intensified.
A freezing cold hit him like he’d been dropped in the middle of Siberia. Even pulling the blanket over his head wasn’t enough to fend it off. Soon, his upper and lower teeth were chattering against each other.
“F-fucking hell.”
He couldn’t just sit there.
He had to move.
Yeah, he had to follow what that weird message said.
He tried to take a step—
But the excruciating headache made his vision swirl.
“Grrgh…!”
Failing the quest meant enduring this pain for a full three hours. Hell, even without failing, the worsening symptoms with every passing minute were already driving him to the brink of insanity.
He didn’t have the confidence to endure the escalating penalties, let alone the unimaginable intensity if he outright failed.
It was absurd.
But he had no choice but to believe it.
He stumbled out of the room and patted down his pockets.
D-did I have any money?
He frantically checked his wallet—thank god, there was a 10,000-won bill inside.
No time to think.
A few people glanced at Ryu Seong as he staggered by, but he didn’t have time to care about stares.
Damn it…!
Where the hell am I supposed to spend money?!
As he wobbled down the hallway, he spotted a desk in the middle with a donation box on top.
That’s it!
It had a sign saying it was for starving children.
[Remaining time: 2 minutes.]
[Symptoms worsening.]
Drenched in cold sweat, he crumpled the 10,000-won bill in his hand and shoved it in.
“Huh? Patient, are you okay?”
A nurse noticed something was off and approached.
“Patient?”
Just before she reached him, the pain vanished like a lie.
Ah…?
He was too fine. Way too fine.
That vicious agony had melted away like snow in his eyes.
Was it a dream?
No.
The pain had been too real to dismiss as fake. If anything, this sudden normalcy felt even more unreal.
[Quest Cleared!]
[You’ve reached the upper limit recognized by the quest—additional rewards granted.]
[Settling…]
Before he could steady himself, the next message filled his vision.
[Settlement complete.]
[Acquired Lowest-Grade Random Card.]
[Acquired 1 Good Deed Point.]
[To use the card, strongly express your intent to open it.]
What a goddamn ridiculous situation.
“Patient?”
“Y-yes…?”
“Are you okay?”
“Ah, yes. I just felt dizzy for a moment.”
The nurse looked at him with concern.
“Just in case, I’ll call the doctor. Which room are you in?”
Ryu Seong blankly told her his room number and name, then returned to his bed with the nurse. Soon after, the doctor came, gave him a quick check-up, and concluded there was nothing seriously wrong.
“Still, just to be safe, don’t overdo it and get some rest.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
After the doctor and nurse left the room, Ryu Seong, now alone, slowly walked toward the bathroom. His hand lacked strength as he opened the door, and his steps looked slightly unsteady.
He was completely drained.
Whoosh.
As soon as he entered the bathroom, he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face. Only then did he start to feel a little more clear-headed.
When he lifted his head and looked in the mirror, he caught a glimpse of pupils that seemed utterly empty for a moment.
But only for a second.
Focus quickly returned, and the natural human curiosity that anyone would feel began to rise.
Random card. Reward.
Those words swirled through his mind.
The pain was real, wasn’t it?
Then the reward should be real too.
It was the most natural line of thought.
That’s why he remembered.
The message had said he needed to strongly express his will.
Card… open!
He imagined it with fierce determination—and a scene far beyond what he expected poured into his vision.
“It’s… real?”
He rubbed his eyes several times in disbelief.
But it was unmistakably reality.
Shuffle—shuffle—shuffle.
From a thick deck, countless cards fanned out endlessly. They densely filled the space, then slowly began to circle like a ring. Soon after, text urging a choice appeared in the center.
[You may select only one card.]
He really should be careful, but it didn’t matter much anyway—only the backs of the cards were visible.
His decision was quick.
For now, he’d just pick the one that drew him in the most.
Tap.
A subtle sensation tingled at his fingertips, and the chosen card enlarged dramatically and flew toward him.
[You have selected the lowest-grade ‘Cash’ card.]
[A random amount will be set.]
[9,560,000 won will be awarded as the reward.]
The moment he saw the not-insignificant sum, his heart pounded wildly. But soon the text gave off a soft glow and vanished along with the card.
Everything faded like an illusion.
Where’s my reward?
No matter how much he looked around, there was no money. They said they’d give it and then just disappeared—he felt tricked, and anger bubbled up inside him.
“Ha. This is fucking bullshit.”
A hollow laugh burst out.
Am I actually going insane?
Maybe it was aftereffects from the accident. Something wrong with his brain making him see things.
Should he get a brain scan?
While he was agonizing over it, his smartphone on the bedside table vibrated violently. He came out of the bathroom and checked it—an unfamiliar number was calling. Feeling a strange sense of unease, he pressed the answer button.
“Hello?”
(Is this Mr. Ryu Seong?)
“Yes. That’s me. Who is this?”
(Congratulations! You’ve won the top prize in the cash event you entered at ○○ Mart earlier this year!)
“Huh?”
(After taxes, 9.56 million won will be deposited into your account. Congratulations once again!)
“Uh…?”
Before he could pull himself together, the call ended. Almost immediately, a text message arrived notifying him that 9.56 million won had been deposited.
9.56 million won.
Exactly the same amount as the card reward.
Not a single won off.
This wasn’t his brain playing tricks on him from an injury.
This was plain, undeniable reality.
Everything he had experienced earlier was real.
“…”
A considerable sum had just landed in an account that previously held only a few hundred thousand won at most.
Thump, thump.
It wasn’t just because money had come in.
Something.
Some primal instinct told him that his life—his entire existence—was about to change.
Comments
Post a Comment