Chapter: 14
Pandora Cube.
“Could it be… that I had relatives I didn’t know about?”
Park Ha-yeon asked in a trembling voice.
As far as she knew, she was an orphan with no one in the world.
Her only blood relatives—her parents—had died in a plane crash.
But you never know.
It could be a distant relative she’d never met, or perhaps an acquaintance of her parents who had heard the news late and come looking for her.
Otherwise, there was no way someone would just hand over such a large sum of money.
But the staff member’s answer was unexpected.
“No. He said his name was ‘Kim Jeong-seok.'”
“Kim… Jeong-seok?”
It was a name she’d never heard before.
The surname was different too.
No matter how hard she racked her memory, it was a completely unfamiliar name with not even a fleeting connection.
“We were surprised too. He was very insistent.”
The staff member added.
“He said to make sure you can walk without any issues for the rest of your life. He said money was no object.”
She went blank.
Is this a dream?
This must surely be a dream.
A sweet fantasy dreamed while under anesthetic.
When she opened her eyes, the cold hospital room and the reality of clutching her rotting leg and crying would be waiting for her.
Just as Park Ha-yeon was about to pinch her cheek.
“Congratulations, really.”
The nurses applauded with genuine smiles.
It wasn’t an auditory hallucination.
The hospital room air touching her skin, the smell of antiseptic, and the warmth of the people.
Everything was real.
A complete stranger.
Without asking for anything in return.
Had saved her life.
It felt as if a ray of light had poured into a world that had been nothing but darkness.
That was when.
“Oh, right! I almost forgot.”
Another nurse hurried into the room.
In her hand was a white envelope.
“This is a letter left by your sponsor. He said to make sure to deliver it to the patient.”
“…A letter?”
Park Ha-yeon received the envelope with trembling hands.
A rough white envelope.
Could it be that person?
That Kim Jeong-seok who had saved her.
‘Why on earth would he…’
Half fear, half excitement.
She carefully tore open the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of stationery with neat handwriting.
Park Ha-yeon slowly read the letter.
[To Park Ha-yeon.
You must be very surprised by the sudden sponsorship.
I imagine you’re wondering who I am and why I’m helping, so I’ll leave a brief note.
I too lost family in that plane crash.
My parents were on that flight.]
Park Ha-yeon’s eyes widened.
A fellow bereaved family member.
A victim of that horrific accident.
[You are the sole survivor of that accident.
You are the one who survived for the sake of everyone who left that place, including my parents.
So you must walk.
Please stand up again, walk, run, and freely enjoy the world.
That is what those who have passed would wish for.]
Her vision blurred.
The letters wavered, blurred by tears.
[Don’t feel burdened. I require no repayment.
I simply want to see you living healthily.
I will always cheer for you from afar.
You are not alone.
Sincerely, Kim Jeong-seok.]
Plop.
A teardrop fell onto the letter.
“Ah…”
The tears she had held back burst forth.
“Hic, huff…”
It wasn’t simply about the money.
The fact that she wasn’t alone.
The comfort that surviving wasn’t a sin.
That warm heart—someone cheering for her life—melted her frozen heart.
Park Ha-yeon clutched the letter to her chest and sobbed.
It was a sorrowful yet overwhelming cry, enough to make everyone in the room fall silent.
That day.
The girl decided to live again.
To live again and repay this debt of gratitude.
* * *
Beyond the small glass window on the hospital room door.
I quietly watched the scene.
Park Ha-yeon was collapsed, clutching the letter to her chest.
Wailing as if the world was ending.
It became certain.
‘She’s not an avatar of a god.’
It’s not an act.
That is raw emotion that only someone who has crawled up from rock bottom can show.
The desperate survival instinct and relief that gods could never imitate.
It was no small amount of money, but it wasn’t the least bit regrettable.
Rather, it was a bargain.
I know her future.
‘Spirit Lord Park Ha-yeon.’
Before regression, she was among the last five humans remaining.
My companion who climbed the tower to the very end.
But I didn’t fully trust her.
Because of her alias.
‘The White Devil.’
People called her that.
Outwardly, she was like a pure white angel.
Always smiling, with a gentle voice.
But inside, she was blackened and rotten.
I remember the spirits she commanded.
Each and every one of them had lost their light and was weeping.
To her, spirits were not friends.
‘Tools.’
Thoroughly consumable tools and slaves.
She used wind spirits to eavesdrop.
She commanded shadow spirits to assassinate.
Sometimes she forcibly possessed others’ minds with spirits to turn them into puppets, or manipulated their memories.
She even rigged gambling games by changing cards.
She stopped at nothing to survive and win.
Evil.
She was clearly a villain.
But I couldn’t condemn her.
‘Because it was to survive.’
Her beginning was tragic.
Paralyzed from the waist down.
An orphan with nothing.
After the Great Cataclysm, there weren’t many ways for a girl in a wheelchair to survive.
To avoid being used by others, she had to use them first.
To avoid being trampled, she had to trample first.
Her evil sprouted from desperate struggles for survival.
Having survived that way, she never learned how to stop.
Even after gaining power, she was still anxious and exploited others even more viciously.
Ultimately, her talent grew deformed, shackled by the chains of “survival.”
But this time is different.
I looked at the girl beyond the window again.
She will heal her legs.
She will stand on the earth with two feet.
She won’t suffer from poverty, nor will she need to grovel before anyone.
I planted ‘hope’ in her.
The belief that someone is watching.
The relief that she isn’t alone.
That will change her roots.
‘Don’t become twisted.’
You don’t have to become a devil.
Not a ruler of shady back alleys, but a proud sovereign under the sun.
If Park Ha-yeon treats spirits as companions, not tools.
If that overwhelming talent blooms in the right direction.
‘Spirit King.’
Not just the Spirit King.
Perhaps she might even command beings beyond that.
I was certain.
My investment would not fail.
She would grow into a far more powerful and reliable ally than before regression.
“Grow well.”
I muttered quietly.
There was nothing more to see.
I turned around.
My steps walking down the hospital corridor were light.
‘Money can always be earned again.’
I know how to earn money.
Where and what to do.
And even what happens there.
‘An unannounced blizzard will hit Daegu.’
In two days, a blizzard will strike.
A full 70 centimeters of snow will pile up.
After that, monsters will appear.
In short.
‘There’s another avatar of a god there.’
* * *
Daegu, Icheon-dong Antique Art Street.
It’s hot. Insanely hot.
With every breath, hot air filled the depths of my lungs.
Heat haze rose from the asphalt, and the road was like a frying pan just before boiling point.
People called this place ‘Daefrica.’
A self-deprecating joke that it’s as hot as Africa.
I wiped the sweat and looked up at the sky.
A blazing sun. A clear blue sky without a single cloud.
‘In two days.’
Who could imagine it.
That a blizzard would fall in this sweltering heat.
And that over 70 cm of snow would pile up, paralyzing the city’s functions.
This is not a natural phenomenon.
It’s clearly a ‘disaster.’
It’s proof that an avatar of a god with freezing or cold attributes has settled nearby.
Before going to catch that bastard, there was a place I needed to stop by.
I walked down the street, looking left and right.
Old, shabby signs.
Stone statues and ceramics piled carelessly in front of shops.
To ordinary people, it would look like just a street of junk shops.
But to my eyes, it’s different.
‘A treasure trove.’
The world has been turned upside down.
It’s not just living creatures that have changed.
Antiques and old items that have endured for ages—things steeped in stories and history—have also mutated in response to magical power.
Among them are ‘relic’-grade items imbued with special powers.
People don’t know it yet.
How immensely valuable these old items are.
In two weeks, or at most a month.
The moment awakened beings realize the utility of relics, the items here will be worth whatever price is asked.
I stepped into a shabby wooden building.
Jingle.
A wind chime sounded, but no one greeted me.
The shop was dim and smelled of musty dust.
“Come on in.”
An old man in a sleeveless shirt fanned himself and replied listlessly from inside.
He glanced at me briefly and turned his head away.
A young kid in a hoodie.
He must have judged I wasn’t a customer worth his time.
“Just look around. Don’t touch.”
Ignored.
Fine. That was actually more convenient.
I slowly examined the display shelves.
Fake Goryeo celadon, crude wooden dolls, rusted brassware.
Most of it was junk.
But gems are always mixed in with the rough.
I stopped in front of a shelf in the corner, thick with dust.
A bronze mirror the size of a palm.
An item that had long lost its function as a mirror, covered in rust.
‘This is it.’
I casually reached out.
At an angle where the owner’s gaze wouldn’t reach.
I channeled the faintest trace of magical power through my fingertips and brushed it across the mirror’s surface.
Woong.
There was a response.
A tingling vibration transmitted through my fingertips.
It wasn’t dead scrap metal.
Magical power was breathing inside it.
Definitely.
I picked up the mirror and walked to the counter.
“How much is this?”
The old man stopped fanning himself and looked at the mirror through his magnifying glass.
“That? Just 100,000 won.”
He was overcharging.
It was an item that wouldn’t even be worth 30,000 won normally.
But I didn’t haggle.
I pulled a few crumpled bills from my pocket.
“Here.”
“Take it.”
As soon as he received the money, the old man lost interest again.
I pocketed the mirror and left the shop.
The moment I stepped out into the scorching sunlight.
Ting!
A system message appeared before my eyes.
[You have discovered a hidden relic.]
[Your discernment is excellent.]
[Skill, ‘Appraisal’ has been created.]
Just as expected.
The act of detecting magical power and recognizing an item’s true value—that was the trigger for skill creation.
I immediately activated the skill.
“Appraisal.”
Swoosh.
A translucent information window appeared before my eyes.
[Item: Mirror That Reveals Truth]
[Grade: Rare]
[Description: A mirror used by a shaman from the Silla Dynasty. When infused with magical power, it can reveal hidden things.]
[Effect (1): Detects invisibility and stealth within a 10-meter radius.]
[Effect (2): Increases resistance to illusion-type magic.]
Success.
Rare grade.
Top-tier for an item obtainable in the early stages.
In particular, the ‘stealth detection’ option is an ability you can’t buy even with money.
It was the moment when a 100,000-won piece of scrap metal transformed into a treasure worth hundreds of millions.
‘Not bad.’
I tucked the mirror into my chest.
This was just the beginning.
The remaining money was 500 million won.
The emergency fund left after generously giving 1 billion won to Park Ha-yeon.
It’s a large sum for an ordinary person, but in the world of awakened beings, it’s barely enough to outfit even one piece of gear.
But here, in this antique street where values haven’t yet been established, the story is different.
‘I can spend it like a king.’
I began sweeping through the street.
I entered every shop there was.
My eyes moved without rest.
‘Appraisal.’
[Normal: A counterfeit celadon piece.]
Pass.
‘Appraisal.’
[Normal: A factory-made wooden doll.]
Pass.
It was like searching for gems in a pile of trash.
Ninety-nine out of a hundred were duds, but I didn’t give up.
Whenever blue light occasionally filled my vision, I opened my wallet.
“How much is this?”
“50,000 won.”
“Here.”
[Item: Jade Ring of Vitality]
[Grade: Uncommon]
[Effect: Slightly increases health recovery speed.]
“And that one?”
“That one’s a bit pricey. You’d have to pay 200,000…”
“Keep the change.”
[Item: Old Guard’s Sword]
[Grade: Rare]
[Effect: Maintains sharpness until durability runs out.]
I swept them up.
Rings, hairpins, scrolls, old swords.
Outwardly, it was no different from a junkyard, but my inventory was filling with solid relic items.
The merchants treated me like a pushover.
They whispered that the young kid must be heat-stricken and collecting junk.
I laughed inwardly.
These items I was buying now for 100,000 won, 200,000 won—in just a month, they’d be worth tens of millions.
That was when I reached the end of the street.
Dong— dong—!
A rough bell sound rang out.
People murmured.
“Oh? Is there an auction today?”
“Is it already that time?”
“Let’s go! Wonder if there’ll be anything decent today.”
Merchants and onlookers flocked to one spot.
In front of a fairly large gallery located in the center of the street.
‘Auction?’
I was intrigued.
If there’s an auction held in a place like this, it’s predictable.
Either stolen goods, or unidentified items being sold cheaply because their provenance is unknown.
In other words, a place where either jackpots or busts gather.
I mixed in with the crowd and entered the gallery.
The air conditioning was cool.
On the podium, an auctioneer in a tuxedo held a microphone.
“Alright, alright! Let’s start things off coolly on this hot day!”
The auction began.
In the beginning, unremarkable items appeared.
Sketches by famous painters, white porcelain from the late Joseon Dynasty.
They might have artistic value, but they weren’t relics infused with magical power.
I folded my arms and stifled a yawn.
I was just about to consider leaving when.
“Next item! A very unique piece.”
A staff member pushed out a cart.
As the black cloth was removed, laughter erupted from the audience.
“What is that?”
“It’s just a rock, isn’t it?”
“Did they pick it up from a riverbank?”
On the podium was a blue stone about the size of a fist.
Its surface was rough and covered in moss, looking for all the world like a common pebble.
But.
“……!”
I narrowed my eyes.
My heart tingled.
It looked familiar.
This wasn’t just ‘seeing it somewhere before.’
This was an item I knew very well.
‘Appraisal.’
I activated the skill.
[Item: Pandora Cube (Sealed)]
[Grade: Unknown]
[Description: A toy box left behind by the god of luck. Not even the gods—nor anyone else—know what will come out.]
Pandora Cube.
Among the tower’s veteran players, it was known as the ‘Devil’s Gacha.’
The odds are truly abysmal.
99.9% of the time, you get garbage.
A rotten egg, a goblin’s loincloth, or a note saying ‘sorry, try again.’
But.
‘There was exactly one time when a legendary-grade weapon came out.’
A memory from my past life flashed by.
A rumor that a certain ranker who cleared the tower’s 30th floor pulled a ‘legendary-grade’ piece of equipment from this cube.
In fact, thanks to that equipment, he shot up into the top 10 rankings.
“Why are they bringing out garbage like that?”
“Who would buy something like that?”
People saw it as nothing more than a mossy rock.
But to my eyes, it looked like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
No, as guaranteed legendary-grade equipment.
Because.
‘I’m a lucky man.’
