BOPE 59

Chapter 59 …

Clatterclatterclatter!

A rattling sound echoed as the hidden shop listings sorted rapidly. Donghee hoped he might finally get a hint about other users.

Gulp.

He swallowed hard, anxious to see how many had left reviews.

But then—

Clatter!

– There are currently 0 user reviews for the Hidden Shop. Therefore, you can view 0 listings.

“What kind of scam is this?!”

Furious, Donghee felt like the top of his head was about to blow off.

“You jerks! If there are no reviews, don’t even list the option!”

– You can submit a review yourself. Would you like to write reviews for your previous purchases?

“No!”

– You’ll receive bonus points for writing a review.

“Well then… of course I’ll write them. That’s the whole point of shopping—writing reviews! Open purchase list!”

– Do you want to pay Open Points to view your purchase list?

He felt a deep urge to curse violently.

Donghee clenched his shaking fists, trying to calm himself. If he could just grab that blue bastard by the collar and shake him, he’d gladly fork over 1,000 or even 2,000 points.

As he fantasized about smashing the blue status window to the floor, it suddenly blinked back into view.

– Are you serious?

“…What?”

– Grab collar. 2,000 points.

“Wait… that’s possible?”

– Totally possible.

“Deal!”

It was just like spending money that never existed.

If he could yank that shiny blue bastard by the collar and slam him to the ground like a game of slap-match, 2,000 points was a small price to pay.

– 2,000 points deducted. Have fun!

“…Huh?”

Before Donghee could process what was happening, the once-flat blue status window began to ripple like still water disturbed by a pebble.

“Uh, uh-oh.”

He staggered back instinctively, as if he might get sucked into it.

The wind began pulling the surrounding air toward the center of the swirling screen. Desperately glancing around, Donghee searched for cover—there was none.

Then the vortex reversed. His hair, which had been flying forward, now blew the opposite way.

Whoooosh!

It lasted only seconds, but felt like hours to Donghee.

As the whirlpool expanded, Donghee ran out of space to retreat. Just when he wondered what would happen next—

SPIT!

The swirling window spat something out.

“…Huh?”

What emerged was the same silver-haired man he’d seen in the carriage earlier—the one who looked like a gleaming mackerel.

Donghee was too shocked to breathe, watching as the silver-haired man approached slowly, like a being made from moonlight.

Everything about him shimmered, and his piercing icy gaze could freeze a person in place.

He drew closer.

Hic!

Donghee hiccupped in fright. The tall man leaned forward, meeting his eyes.

He smelled like a winter wind.

“Grab it.”

His voice was as cold as he looked.

“…Grab what?”

Donghee asked, barely holding back tears.

“The collar.”

“Excuse me?”

Blinking stupidly, Donghee looked up as the man ran his hand through his silver hair with a tired sigh.

“2,000 points. You said you wanted to grab a collar.”

“S-So then you’re…?”

When Donghee pointed, the man smirked and snapped his fingers.

Behind him, the familiar blue screen floated up like a full moon.

– Status Window Entity has appeared.

“Now you get it?”

Donghee looked back and forth between the man and the screen, then slowly nodded.

“So you’re… the Silver Mackerel.”

“That nickname is offensive.”

“Quiet. So, you are the status window. And the status window is you?”

The man looked frustrated but nodded reluctantly.

“Not entirely wrong.”

“And I paid 2,000 points just to grab your collar?”

“…Unfortunately, yes.”

He frowned like his pride had taken a hit.

If Lei was a flower boy, this guy was more of an ice-sculpture type of handsome. Either way, not her taste.

“Well then, about those 2,000 points—”

The man began to speak, elegant and cold—

“You bastard! I’ve been waiting for this!”

Donghee lunged forward, grabbing the man’s collar and yanking him close.

Their faces were inches apart.

“What the hell—!”

The man looked startled by Donghee’s violent attitude, but Donghee had years of frustration to vent.

“Sparkling hair! I swear if your scales start peeling, I’m not paying for cleanup! I paid 2,000 points, so I have the right to do this!”

“Mackerels don’t have scales.”

“Shut up! You’re lucky I don’t turn you into sushi! You think it’s funny to mock innocent, clueless users like me?!”

She shook him like a rag doll, yelling.

Then she saw it—the blue screen behind him was flashing:

“ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

Donghee narrowed her eyes, let go of the man’s collar, and reached out toward the screen.

For the first time ever, she felt its cool texture.

Without hesitation, she grabbed it—and slammed it to the ground.

SLAM!

Just like a game card, it hit the ground. The laughing text was replaced by rows of exclamation marks.

The screen looked stunned—if that were possible.

The silver-haired man stared wide-eyed as Donghee grabbed her shoulder, turned her around, and asked—

“Who are you?”

“What do you think? I’m Ha Donghee! The person you dragged into this mess!”

“…No way…”

He stared, then grabbed her hand, inspecting her palm.

Behind him, the floating screen shone blue light onto it.

“Hey! What do you think you’re—”

Just as she tried to yank her hand back, his body started fading.

In the blink of an eye, he was sucked back into the screen.

Donghee stared, dazed, at his disappearing form.

The screen floated again and, in its usual clean font, informed her—

– 2,000 Hidden Points have been deducted for the Status Window Collar Grab Event.
Remaining Hidden Points: 115p

Just like her part-time pay vanishing from her bank account, those 2,000 points were gone—leaving behind a tingling in her hand.

She opened her palm and stared at it.

“So that silver mackerel dude is the status window. And the status window is… him?”

But something didn’t quite add up.

When she was shaking his collar, the status window had been laughing.

“Wait a sec…”

Donghee squinted.

“Maybe… the silver mackerel is just a subset of the status window?”

– Wrong! Good try, but incorrect.

“…Then is the status window a subset of the silver mackerel?”

– Sets? That’s not how this works. (Typical of someone who only studied the start of math: knows only about sets.)

Feeling called out, Donghee waved her hand in embarrassment—but it just passed through the screen, which had become intangible again.

“Then who is that guy?”

– Silver mackerel?

Fzzzzzt.

The text glitched and vanished.

– Please name the entity. (Silver Mackerel is NOT allowed.)

Donghee thought about translating it into English—Silverfish.

– “Silverfish” rejected. Anything with “Silver” is disallowed.

She sighed in defeat.

“Then how about… he came from the status window, so let’s call him Taechang.”

– ?

“Taechang. Surname: Sang. First name: Taechang. A good ol’ Korean name. Nice, right?”

– Taechang registered successfullyㅋㅋㅋ!

Fzzzt!

The screen buzzed like it was laughing, then vanished.

It felt like a storm had passed.

Donghee sat blankly for a moment, then slowly stood.

She could almost hear the silver mackerel—now Taechang—screaming in frustration somewhere far away.