SFAD 01

Episode 01

The AchMage Who Delivers Food

A faint, metallic stench filled the air, sharp enough to sting the nose.

It was familiar, yet unpleasant every single time—a foreign odor leaking in from the “other world” beyond.

Seong-jun stood before the control line, one hand holding a still-warm delivery order, the other gripping an old scooter helmet.

Today’s destination lay beyond the Gate—right in the middle of a hunting ground.

“I’ll need to check your identification. Please present your Gate entry permit as well.”

A soldier wearing a bulletproof vest and an armband blocked his way, his eyes filled with suspicion.

Though his face looked young, the muzzle of his firearm was steady, unwavering as it pointed directly at Seong-jun.

Around them, people in combat uniforms and specialized vehicles moved in a bustle that made it clear this was no ordinary delivery zone.

Without a word, Seong-jun pulled out a crumpled ID card along with a small laminated pass from inside his coat.

“Republic of Korea Registered Awakened – Ma Seong-jun.”

The soldier glanced between the registration card and Seong-jun’s face several times before tilting his head in confusion. His gaze briefly lingered on Seong-jun’s worn delivery vest and the food bag in his hand.

“…Confirmed. You may enter.”

With that blunt permission, the control line was opened. From behind him, faint murmurs of other soldiers drifted over.

“An Awakened… doing deliveries?”
“What kind of strange person is that…?”

Seong-jun ignored their stares and stepped into the Gate.

With a ripple of spatial distortion, his vision went dark—then lit up again.

The scenery before him was different from reality: a bluish, eerie glow permeated the air.

The atmosphere was heavy with ozone and the faint scent of unknown creatures.

Click.

Seong-jun manually switched off the headlamp that had automatically turned on in response to the darkness.

From here on, it was a danger zone.

Even a single light could signal to monsters that prey existed nearby.

But the real issue was this—light could be hidden, but scent could not.

“Of all things… why did they order doenjang jjigae…?”

He sighed deeply as he looked at the delivery bag, tightly sealed yet still leaking its distinctive, savory odor.

Then he bent his fingers in a strange motion and placed his hand over the bag.

“Claustra Odoris.”

“Seal the scent.”

For a brief moment, a blue geometric pattern appeared on the surface of the bag—then vanished.

At once, the odor spreading outward disappeared completely.

Yet Seong-jun, the one who had cast the spell, now wore an even more tense expression as he looked into the cave ahead.

“60… 59… 58…”

Unfortunately, the spell’s duration was only about one minute.

In theory, the spell should last much longer—but on Earth, where mana density was nearly zero, its duration collapsed dramatically.

This was precisely why Seong-jun had become a “delivery-running hunter.”

His awakened ability—magic—was practically unusable in combat due to the extremely low mana concentration on Earth.

Only inside Gates, where some mana existed in the atmosphere, could he use it at all. If he were outside in the real world, even basic spellcasting would be impossible.

“Haah… 29… 28…”

He ran forward, fully aware that monsters could approach at any moment, triggered by his footsteps.

Choosing sound over scent was a calculated decision—because monsters inside Gates were more sensitive to smell than noise.

As he ran deeper, the sounds of battle grew louder.

The clash of metal, flesh, bone being torn apart, and bodies breaking apart—each sound struck him with the realization that this was not merely a cave, but a hunting ground.

Then—

“Hey! He’s here! He’s really here! See? I told you! Delivery really comes inside the Gate!”

A hunter who had been resting jumped up and shouted in excitement.

Another hunter beside him grumbled while rummaging through his pocket.

“Damn it… I didn’t think he’d actually come this far. Crazy guy… here, your share.”

They had apparently made a bet over whether delivery would actually reach inside the Gate.

Seong-jun ignored their commotion and quietly placed the bag onto the designated table.

“One serving of doenjang jjigae set meal, pork stir-fry with rice wraps, and extra steamed egg. Delivery complete. Payment was confirmed as prepaid. Additional charges remain.”

“Additional charges?”

The man who seemed to have won the bet looked puzzled.

“Deliveries inside Gates include hazard pay and special surcharges. Payment is accepted in mana stones. Since this order involved a strongly odorous dish, an extra fee applies.”

Seong-jun explained in a flat, emotionless tone—as if stating a standard rule.

The man blinked for a moment, then burst into laughter and tossed a small violet stone from his pouch.

“Ha! Of course! If you risk your life delivering it, you deserve it! Here, take this little one!”

The small stone landed in Seong-jun’s hand like loose change.

Without a word, he slipped it deep into his pocket.

He bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then turned and walked away without hesitation.

This was reality.

A single mana stone—earned only by risking one’s life—was treated as mere pocket change by low-tier hunters like the man he had just served.

“Hmm? You came out sooner than expected.”

Hearing the guard’s surprised voice at the exit, Seong-jun took a deep breath.

As familiar air filled his lungs again, he let out an unconscious sigh.

In his hand, he could feel the mana stone.

A new form of energy—and currency—that powered this world.

Something any Awakened could obtain freely through hunting.

But for him—

“…Damn it.”

It was something he could only obtain by risking his life through deliveries.

An Awakened insignia was engraved on his shoulder.

A mark that had never once shone—practically useless.

If Seong-jun had chosen a different path instead of magic, he would have gone hunting himself.

But what he had been given was knowledge—magic that existed only in theory, impossible to use in practice.

In the end, he could only survive by risking his life daily through deliveries—earning small fragments of mana stones to support both himself and his master.

Back in his one-room apartment, Seong-jun placed the chicken box he had just bought onto a shabby table.

The smell of fried oil filled the room.

From the corner of the bed, a girl who had been lying lazily sprang up.

“Oh, chicken! Is it boneless today, or with bones?”

Her sky-blue hair, impossibly vivid, and her flawless skin like polished jade clearly marked her as something non-human.

Though she looked no older than her late teens, her personality was far more nagging than that of an elderly woman.

His only master—Shin Min-ah.

Once known as Minastrias, the world’s only and strongest Great Mage.

“It has bones. I can debone it for you if it’s troublesome.”
“No need. I can handle it myself.”

Despite her grumbling, Min-ah couldn’t hide the faint smile at her lips as she picked up a piece of chicken.

After their late meal, Seong-jun turned around and sat cross-legged on the floor.

Min-ah cleaned up the empty box and sat behind him.

He handed her the small mana stone he had earned today along with a crumpled sheet of paper covered in repeated revisions—his latest magical theory and formulas, filled with ideas he had worked on through the night.

“……”

Min-ah remained silent for a moment.

Seong-jun spoke, already understanding what she wanted to say.

“I know what you’re going to say—but it’s fine. What I want to learn is the theory itself, not the activation of spells.”

This was their familiar nightly exchange.

Min-ah placed her hand gently on his bare back.

Mana began to flow from her other hand, holding the mana stone.

“Revela mihi.”
“Reveal to me.”

A flash—

Min-ah opened her eyes.

Before her stretched an immense factory without end.

A visualization of her spell system—her “circle”—rendered as a mental space.

Her magic, the pinnacle of modern sorcery, was filled with enormous mechanisms that dwarfed any observer.

“The problem is… it’s a factory with no fuel.”

She moved toward the end of the factory, then shifted her consciousness toward the area connected to her disciple.

What appeared was a completely different landscape.

Instead of machines, there were countless books and papers filling the space—design blueprints rather than functional constructs.

“A pile of millions of theories that can’t even be used…”

She considered strengthening the newly added diagrams, but the mana from Seong-jun’s stone was insufficient.

She placed three faintly drawn spell diagrams into the vast archive.

At that moment—

She felt something strange.

“…What is this?”

Turning back, she looked again at the overlapping layers of papers.

Normally just thin sheets stacked together—but today, the tangled lines seemed… to form a single, massive picture.

She narrowed her eyes and examined them again.

Countless lines intersecting randomly—yet collectively forming something greater.

“…No, that’s impossible.”

She dismissed the feeling.

After all, knowledge alone does not change anything.

“Done. By the way—you stayed up all night drawing this again, didn’t you? Get some sleep! You’ll ruin your health like that!”

At her familiar scolding from behind, Seong-jun turned with a faint smile.

As always, his eyes held quiet satisfaction—and a trace of exhaustion.

Watching her disciple, Min-ah failed to realize—

“A change beyond her understanding… was already beginning within him.”