Chapter 2
“But… what do I do now?”
Now that the rush of excitement had settled, it was time to calmly gather my thoughts.
Even though I’d acquired a ridiculous cheat ability, there wasn’t much I could actually do.
If it were someone else, they’d probably buy dozens of tablets online and start downloading videos immediately—but I couldn’t.
“What if they track me down?”
Because I’m overly cautious.
Being rich is great and all, but living quietly without any major incidents is far more important to me!
Of course, having money would be nice, but I hate anything even remotely risky.
What if dozens of tablets started showing up in the tower’s shop all under one seller’s name?
Sure, tablets are a great return on investment, but that’s a rookie move.
Once people notice my powers, journalists, entrepreneurs, and politicians alike would dig into how it happened.
In a small country like South Korea, wouldn’t they investigate who suddenly bought dozens of tablets in a day without even registering a business?
Of course, it’s not like the tablet companies only sell to a couple of people, so the chances of them finding me are slim.
But still—if you leave a long enough tail, you’ll get caught.
So, never sell the same items repeatedly. Especially not expensive ones.
Another issue was converting things to cash.
To get tower points converted into money, you’d have to bring out gold or magic stones. If someone were selling tons of those, it’d be even easier to get discovered.
“Absolutely not.”
In the best-case scenario, I could join a big corporation and funnel tower items that way.
Worst case? I get caught by a crime syndicate, turned into a money-making slave.
Maybe I could reveal my identity and get government protection?
But getting talked about by the public? No thanks.
So, there are three main problems.
First, no one must ever find out that I can freely enter and exit the tower.
Second, I need a way to turn external goods sold in the tower back into real-world money.
Third—
[Kim Namjoong’s bank account balance: 2,400 won]
I don’t have money to buy anything useful.
Payday’s still a week away. I have to survive on 2,400 won until then.
“Damn, I shouldn’t have spent money on that game.”
If I’d known I’d awaken… ugh. Too late now.
It’s kind of tragic that I have this crazy ability but still can’t do much with it.
sigh
“Well, let’s try a test at least.”
clunk—
Opening the cupboard, I saw the only food left in my studio apartment: instant ramen.
Cheap five-for-5,000-won ramen from the supermarket, but even that sells in the tower.
There’s that saying—people can quit drinking or smoking, but not ramen.
As Korea’s national soul food, ramen is practically nonexistent in the tower.
People who want strong awakening powers bring weapons. Those who want money bring tablets or electronics.
How many people would bother bringing ramen?
The only people who’d do that are lunatics… or ramen fanatics.
Plus, since it’s a common product sold everywhere, there’s no risk of being tracked.
I reached out and grabbed the ramen: Jin Ramen in my right hand, Chapagetti in my left, Buldak Ramen tucked under my arm.
“Enter the tower!”
With half excitement and half fear, I shouted—and with a whoosh, my vision blurred.
Then I arrived in a blindingly white room.
Just like before, the same message appeared.
[You have entered the tower. You are currently in the Tutorial Zone, a safe area.]
It was exactly as I’d seen on YouTube.
A plain, empty white room.
If I didn’t have this ability, I’d probably go crazy.
You really can’t do anything here.
Now I understood why most people who clear the tower come back mentally wrecked.
Even this tutorial zone feels like a psychological test—imagine fighting hordes of monsters alone?
Then another creepy message appeared:
[You can now set the tower’s entry difficulty. Once set, it cannot be changed. You may not exit until you fully clear the tower.]
You can’t leave until it’s cleared?
“That’s exactly what I need to test.”
The most important thing to me was whether I could freely enter and exit the tower.
“Exit the tower!”
whoosh—
My surroundings changed again.
Back to my usual room.
“…It works!”
As I expected, the ability was functioning.
I had honestly been a bit worried, but thankfully, it worked.
Knowing I wouldn’t get trapped in the tower gave me a new sense of confidence.
And hope that I could earn real money.
“Well then… time to sell.”
The ramen I brought was my only capital.
Fortunately, I wasn’t hungry, having eaten some leftover food from work.
So I’d sell it all.
“But first, I need to check the shop prices.”
I’d only ever seen this stuff on YouTube and forums.
Using the actual system window was a first.
Re-entering the tower and accessing the shop, I found there was no ramen or instant food for sale—mostly weapons and crafting items.
Food? Just monster meat.
Definitely a tough market here.
“Fixed price or auction… yeah, auction sounds better.”
The tower’s shop had three systems:
The tower shop sells fixed items directly.
Players can list items at fixed prices.
Players can auction items to others.
For someone like me who doesn’t know the market, auction is better.
Considering ramen sells for about 1,000 won in real life, I figured it might go for 10,000–50,000 won here.
Since 1TP equals about 10,000 won, I expected 1 to 5 TP per pack.
“Still, that’s great.”
That’s a minimum tenfold markup—up to fiftyfold profit.
Who else could make this kind of pure profit?
It might not seem like much for cheap ramen, but once I get rolling, I’ll be raking in billions.
[Would you like to list: Jin Ramen x5, Chapagetti x5, Buldak Ramen x5 for auction?]
“Yes.”
[To list items, you must set a seller nickname. This cannot be changed later.]
“Nickname, huh… can’t I post anonymously?”
[Seller nickname cannot be anonymous.]
“Hmm… what should I pick.”
Most hunters just use their real names.
Famous ones get cool nicknames like “Reaper” or “Divine,” but that’s only cool because others gave them those names.
Using your online gamer tag in real life? Embarrassing.
‘Hey, what was your nickname in the tower?’
‘Uh… UltimateWizard69.’
‘Ah… yeah… okay…’
Shudder. Just thinking about it creeps me out.
So in the tower society—half online, half real—many just use their real names.
But I couldn’t do that.
Obviously, I didn’t want my identity exposed.
So I needed a nickname that didn’t reveal who I was but could still become famous in the tower’s trade scene.
“This one’s perfect.”
[Nickname: Midas (available). Confirm?]
“Yes.”
Midas, the man with the golden touch. Also called King Midas in Greek mythology.
I considered names like “Golden Carriage,” but that sounded too military.
Midas just felt cooler—like it’d attract more wealth.
[Listed: Jin Ramen x5, Chapagetti x5, Buldak Ramen x5 for auction. Minimum bid: 1TP.]
“Finally done.”
It was almost time to head to my part-time job.
I’d been rushing around since awakening, but today my steps felt lighter.
Unlike before, I could now envision a future.
A life with hope… who knew it could feel this good?
I needed to think more about how to best use my powers.
But first—off to the convenience store.
After all, I still had no way to turn tower points into cash yet.
Putting on my worn-out shoes, I stepped outside.
* * *
The convenience store shift was over.
Another dull, uneventful night.
Some drunk jerk came in and spilled food trash all over the floor again.
Maybe some people eat through their nostrils.
“Welcome.”
I greeted the person coming in.
She barely nodded, like it pained her to acknowledge me.
It was Lee Eunji.
She used to come in 5–10 minutes late, now it was a blatant 20 without even messaging.
Clearly pissed that I’d refused to cover for her.
If not for my relationship with the store owner, she’d be the one in trouble if I just left. But she didn’t seem to care.
Sigh, Gen Z these days… They act like part-time work is some royal title.
If I were the owner, I’d have had a stroke already.
“Move.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s my shift now. Move.”
She’s the one who’s late—why’s she picking a fight?
I just stared blankly, and she glared at me like I was the problem.
She always complains about annoying customers… and now she’s being one.
Bet she acts like this to other coworkers, too.
Even the Bible says: Treat others the way you want to be treated.
I usually let this stuff slide—but not anymore.
I’m New-Neo Namjoong now.
“I’ll let the owner know about today.”
“W-what?”
“Not just today. All the other times you’ve been late. I’m tired of wasting my time.”
“You’re mad over 20 minutes?”
“Once or twice, sure. But this has happened dozens of times. If you add it all up, that’s a full day’s pay.”
Her face turned beet red with rage.
“Fucking hell, whatever! You loser!”
“I’ll be heading out now.”
I didn’t bother listening to the rest of her shouting.
Instead, I flipped her the bird on my way out.
“Treat others how you want to be treated,” huh?
Well, I don’t want kindness from someone like her—so I don’t owe her any.
If she wants to act like shit, she’ll get treated like shit.
Jesus really was a wise man.
“Phew… just one more week of this.”
Outside the store, I let out a sigh of relief.
Payday was one week away.
I’d already told the manager I was quitting.
‘You’re quitting so suddenly? Something happen?’
‘No, I just want to start living a more proper life.’
The manager looked surprised at first, then smiled when I said I wanted to work more honestly.
Without him, I would’ve quit long ago.
I’m not exactly a persistent person.
I’ll pay you back someday, boss.
But kindness is kindness, and business is business.
Even though I value safety, I can’t stupidly keep working retail when I have this money-making power.
Someday, I’ll reward my manager—with cash.
“Now, let’s see how much it’s gone up…”
I was dying to know how much the ramen had sold for.
But I couldn’t open the system window at the store—someone might see and suspect I’d awakened.
Hunters aren’t rare, but if a store clerk starts staring into space, people naturally assume they’re a new one.
Then the authorities might get involved.
“Let’s see… points… 1, 10, 100, 1,000… Huh?”
On the system window, I saw a number I couldn’t have even imagined.
