Translator: Pai_

"Huff, hrgh... haaah!"

Dawn.

The moment he woke, Su-ho headed down to the yard and swung his spear. He had never been lazy about training to begin with, but today there was an extra edge of force behind every thrust.

Because he had seen the Prophecy Newspaper's Obituary Column.

「Warrior Mun Su-ho」

「Killed in a concentrated attack by three enemy soldiers while covering his sister's retreat.」

A notice foretelling his death by enemy spears and blades.

Dying in a three-on-one fight technically counted as an honorable death, but the problem was that Su-ho himself had very little interest in honor.

Whether one skewer or three pierced his body, what difference did it make? He was a kebab either way.

'Besides, none of the other family members even showed up in the Obituary Column.'

Whoosh. Mun Su-ho spun his spear as he thought.

'The final battle wasn't a siege defense, it was a field engagement. Meaning the Royal Capital had already fallen. South Gate would've collapsed too, and the whole clan would've died with it.'

'Hmm. The fact that I at least managed to grab Si-ah and run in the middle of all that chaos... I'd say that speaks to my competence.'

Just as his stray thoughts were deepening in various directions...

"Son! Good morning! Training at the crack of dawn? Man, that's my boy. So diligent!"

His father, Mun Geum, came down with a noticeably warmer expression.

It was only natural, given that his son had pulled him from the water and saved his life the day before. The father-son relationship, which had always carried an unspoken awkwardness, had improved overnight.

Then again, Mun Geum had been the only one feeling awkward. His youngest son, who had seemed strangely worldly and detached about everything since childhood, had always felt somehow unfamiliar to him.

All through the previous night, Mun Geum had regretted the way he'd acted until now. Getting up this early to approach Mun Su-ho was entirely a calculated move disguised as coincidence.

"Oh, right. I need to check on the warehouse today. You said you had a cart you confiscated yesterday, didn't you, son? Want to come in together?"

"Sure."

Mun Geum's tone sounded perfectly casual.

But in truth, this was an extraordinary privilege.

Built into the inner wall of South Gate stood a massive warehouse. This was the Lost Property Warehouse, where every item seized during inspections at South Gate was stored.

Naturally, one could reclaim their lost property at any time, so long as they paid a modest "storage fee".

However, some of the kingdom's more cultured citizens felt that having already paid customs to pass through the gate, only to be charged again, was, to put it delicately, utter bullshit.

It had been 996 years since the kingdom's founding. Over the course of nearly a millennium, all manner of miscellaneous goods had piled up, layer upon layer.

By now, items whose owners had long since been forgotten, objects of unknown origin, lay hidden deep within the bowels of that enormous warehouse.

The role of managing this place also fell to the gatekeeper clan. And the key to the warehouse was entrusted solely to the clan's head, which in this generation meant Mun Geum alone.

In other words, the offer to "look around the warehouse together" carried a quiet implication: from now on, Mun Su-ho would be treated not as a mere Illegitimate Child, but as one of the legitimate successors.

"Sounds good. I'll help out, Father."

Su-ho had no reason to refuse.

If he was going to prevent the kingdom's downfall, he needed to build up his own power base. In this br⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌utal and uncivilized kingdom, there was simply no group more trustworthy than blood relatives.

None of this would have happened had Su-ho not rescued his father the day before.

"That's my boy! Go wash up and follow me, then."

Su-ho drew water from the well, finished his medieval-style shower, and hurried after his father. Eager to see what the fabled "South Gate Warehouse" he'd only heard rumors about actually looked like, he stepped inside, and...

"Cough, cough!"

Nearly 1,000 years' worth of accumulated dust greeted him.

Su-ho instantly found himself in an involuntary experiment to determine which was stronger: his respiratory system or the warehouse's fine particulate matter.

"What in the... Father. When was the last time anyone cleaned this place?"

"Ha ha. Well, you see, when I was young I made a solemn vow that the moment I inherited the headship from your grandfather, I'd give the place a thorough cleaning..."

Mun Geum's expression turned sheepish.

"But somehow, between making ends meet day after day, I never found the time..."

"Good lord. So it hasn't been cleaned since Grandfather's generation?"

"Th-that's right?"

Mun Geum swallowed back the fact that his own father had made the exact same vow and ultimately failed just the same. His youngest son's face was already radiating a contempt that screamed 'what is to be done with this uncivilized kingdom', and Mun Geum wanted to get closer to his son.

"I was actually planning to quietly start cleaning from tomorrow!"

"Good thinking. Honestly, coming in and out of a place like this, your lifespan shaves off in real time. Please take care of yourself."

'My son is worried about me!'

Mun Geum was moved. Having recently lost his eldest and second sons, and with his only daughter Si-ah doing nothing but hurling sharp words at him day after day, this middle-aged gatekeeper had reached a point where even the smallest remark could move him to tears.

Su-ho hauled in the cargo cart he had confiscated and stamped with a seizure seal the previous day, parking it in the [Medicines] section.

This medicines section itself was clearly a relatively recent addition, as the signpost marking the area bore the time period [900s].

Beyond this s⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌ection lay [Medicines: 800s], [Medicines: 700s]...

Past that, it was too dark for sunlight to reach.

No amount of squinting could peel back the shell of darkness. Considering that Mun Su-ho boasted the eyesight of a human eagle, the place was staggeringly, absurdly vast.

'Wow. This is ridiculously huge. Is there some kind of spatial magic cast on it or something?'

Meanwhile, Mun Geum, who had followed his son in, was pulling some unidentifiable medicine bottle from the [Medicines] shelf and guzzling it down.

Su-ho was mildly horrified.

"Father, please. You can't just grab and drink whatever you find. You'll get sick."

"Hmm? Come on. You've always been such a picky eater, even as a kid. Your mother wasn't like that at all. I wonder who you take after."

"This isn't about picky eating. It's about hygiene. Hygiene."

"Ha ha. You're still young, son, so you wouldn't know. These things, the older they get, the more potent they become. Nothing beats aged medicine, I tell you!"

Pop. And with that, he pulled out yet another glass bottle from the shelf, this one filled with a murky liquid of indeterminate color that could have been liquor or gutter water, and downed it in one shot.

'Ah. Oh, kingdom.'

Su-ho gave a resigned shrug. Just when he thought he'd fully adapted to life born into a new world, every so often the kingdom's barbarity would trip him up like a speed bump, forcing him into an involuntary shoulder shimmy.

"Just watch out for poison, at least."

"All right, all rig⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌ht. Such a nag. I'll stop for today."

That was what his mouth said, but Mun Geum's eyes were still greedily eyeing the other gacha-bottles whose lids had yet to be opened.

'Did his near-death experience yesterday trigger some kind of rebound effect on his survival instincts?'

Su-ho left the warehouse without thinking much of it and headed to his post for work.

It was still early morning. He fished the Prophecy Newspaper out of the day's delivered stack and began reading, only to find, of all things, a headline featuring his very own father splashed across the page.

『Father Mun Geum Encounters a Fortuitous Opportunity and Breaks Through in Martial Cultivation!』

Pfft!

The black tea he habitually sipped while reading the morning paper came spraying out. Fortunately, the Prophecy Newspaper was not some flimsy rag that fell apart when wet, so reading the article was not a problem.

The problem was the article's contents.

「Earlier this dawn, while organizing the warehouse alone, Mun Geum ssi encountered one stroke of misfortune and one stroke of fortune.」

「First, he rashly consumed an excessively aged medicine and got a stomachache. However, another substance he consumed turned out to be, remarkably, a Magical Elixir left behind by a Celestial Warrior some 70 years ago.」

"What."

A trickle of black tea that hadn't quite made it out during the spit-take now dribbled down the corner of Su-ho's mouth. That was the level of shock he was dealing with.

Could it be that his modern sensibilities about hygiene were wrong, and his father's barbaric aged-medicine theory was right all along?!

「The Celestial Warrior in question had achieved mastery in martial arts but was indifferent to all worldly matters, to the extent that he did not even realize he had lost the Magical Elixir until 50 years after the fact.」

「The Celestial Warrior, certain of the culprit, executed his own disciple that very night.」

「In reality, however, it has been revealed that the Magical Elixir had been stored in the South Gate Lost Property Warehouse's medicines section for decades. This paper extends its deepest condolences for the disciple's wrongful accusation...」

"Unbelievable."

Su-ho was deeply shaken.

Yet it was in precisely this moment of crisis that his considerable character revealed itself, for Mun Su-ho resolved, almost immediately, to retract his prejudice.

'I still haven't shed my lowly modern sensibilities!'

'This is a fantasy world. Expiration dates, best-by dates, none of that matters. Obviously, mysterious Magical Elixirs only get more potent the longer they age!'

'From this day forward, I shall never be a picky eater again.'

Mun Su-ho sprang to his feet.

And barged into his sister's post, where she was in the middle of preparing for the morning shift.

"My beloved sister."

"...Did you perhaps forget, being born an Illegitimate Child and all, the concept that it's polite to knock before entering?"

"Your dear brother has run into something extremely urgent. So, just for today, could you cover my post as well as yours?"

"Ah, I see. You're busy. Well then, why don't you just die? I could cover for you permanently, you know. Why are you still alive?"

Su-ho pulled a coin pouch from inside his jacket.

Clink. The gold coins he had earned confiscating Crystal Leaf from the Alchemy Fortress the day before played a glittering melody.

"Cover both my post and yours for the day, and I'll pay you 20 Sita."

"I suppose things come up in life. People get busy sometimes. Sure."

Si-ah, who had lost half her entire fortune the day before, had no choice but to swallow her pride. Her s⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌elf-respect was developing an acquired flexibility.

"On top of that, if you call me oppa for the whole day, I'll add 10 more Sita."

"Drop dead."

"20 Sita."

"Get lost."

"25 Sita. 45 Sita total. That's my final offer."

"I can't imagine what urgent business it could be, but if orabeoni has to leave on short notice, there must be good reason. I'll hold down the fort with proper inspections, so please, go in peace, orabeoni." [TL: Orabeoni: An archaic, formal, and polite Korean term used by a female to address her older brother]

The negotiation reached a dramatic resolution.

Reassured, Su-ho placed a【Lane Closed】sign at his post, then rearranged the wooden barriers so that the queue funneled into his sister's post instead. Si-ah gladly lent a hand with the work.

"Thank you, my beloved sister."

"Oh, please. It's only natural between siblings."

Mun Si-ah's tone was demure beyond belief. He could say with absolute certainty that in nearly twenty years of life, he had never once witnessed this level of demureness from his sister.

This was why a person needed to make money first. Once your wallet fattened up, the chaotic family hierarchy of the past twenty years sorted itself out on its own.

Vowing to keep earning hard so he could maintain his subscription to the Rental Little Sister Service, Mun Su-ho returned to the Lost Property Warehouse.

The key to the warehouse was still under his father's supervision, but that posed no issue. Before the bridge-jumping incident, perhaps, but now a single sweet word could loosen the security clearance to any degree.

"You know, I got to thi⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌nking, Father. If you're going to personally organize the warehouse starting tomorrow, I can't just sit by and watch as your son. Let me go in ahead and do some cleaning in advance, so it's at least a little easier for you."

"Son...!"

And so, strengthening both the bond of siblings and the filial devotion between father and son, he re-entered the warehouse.

"Hmm."

The warehouse's fine particulate matter welcomed him. To Mun Su-ho, the smell of this dust now seemed as fragrant as the ink of a freshly printed newspaper.

'No matter how many Magical Elixirs Father drinks, there's a clear limit to what he can achieve. He won't be any use in preventing the kingdom's fall.'

'Then wouldn't it be an act of loyalty to the nation if I consumed the Magical Elixir in Father's place?'

'The nation must survive for my clan to survive, so in the end, this too is filial piety.'

As if he had never once lamented the kingdom's hygiene standards, Mun Su-ho's eyes swept over the medicine bottles in the [Medicines] section as though they were a lavish feast spread before him.

"Where are you hiding? Come out, my Elixir of loyalty!"