The miners didn’t return to the lodge that night. As a result, Yoon Ji-han had the spacious room to himself and slept soundly. When Yoon Ji-han rose from the bed and stretched, he felt no trace of fatigue. His awakening had scoured it from his body, leaving only a clean, refreshing energy in its place. He was more than satisfied with his condition. Though it was early, the morning sun was already a glare that threatened to scorch the skin. In the past, he would have scrambled for cover, but now, he didn't have to. Another benefit of his awakening. Yoon Ji-han strolled through the mining city, basking in his new resilience. The town was small and shabby, but it had everything a person needed to survive out here. In the vastness of the desert, the Magic Stone Mine was a vital outpost. Caravans used it as a waypoint, stopping for supplies and selling wares from distant cities. Adventurers like Hwang Cheol-woo’s party came to re-equip before venturing into nearby dungeons. This constant traffic had given rise to a surprisingly bustling market. First, I need to learn the lay of the land, Yoon Ji-han thought. He’d heard stories about the Yeongseok Gwangsan, but second-hand information was never enough. A lesson learned in the slums was to trust only what his own eyes could verify. The shabby market stalls were mostly quiet. It was too early for most, and the miners who formed the city’s heart were still deep underground. The mine was a deep and intricate labyrinth. A single Magic Stone could take days to excavate, so the miners packed enough food to last and slept down in the darkness. It was a miserable existence, one that wasted no time on the luxury of sunlight. Yoon Ji-han had found the stories hard to believe at first. His awakening was a lifeline, but if he couldn't find a way to harness his new abilities, that miserable life awaited him. He had to prevent that at all costs. A sharp pang in his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten properly since yesterday's lunch. First things first: food. Yoon Ji-han headed deeper into the market, searching for something to eat. He didn't expect a proper restaurant, but he had a little money. Following a savory, greasy aroma, he found a stall tucked away at the back of the market, selling skewers of sizzling meat. An old man, as shabby as his stall, tended the grill. His face was a roadmap of deep wrinkles, framed by a grizzled beard. One lens of his glasses was cracked, and his age was impossible to guess. Yoon Ji-han took a seat on a stool in front of the stall. "What kind of meat is this?" he asked, a little hesitant. "Better if you don't know," the old man rasped, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "Heh." Yoon Ji-han just nodded. He remembered a time before, raising cows and pigs, eating his fill of real meat. Such luxury was a distant memory. Even in Shin-Hanseong, they subsisted on lab-grown protein. Out here, in the slums, people ate rats, roaches… whatever the monsters left behind. He picked up a skewer and took a bite. Through his cracked glasses, the old man watched him. "New face, are you?" "Arrived yesterday," Yoon Ji-han said, chewing. "This is pretty good." "Yesterday? Then you must be the one who survived the Sandworm attack." "News travels fast, I see." The old man chuckled again. "Heh. Only secret in this town is the color of your underwear. By tomorrow, everyone will know your story." "Fresh meat like you… you'll draw a lot of attention." Yoon Ji-han understood the veiled warning immediately and shot the old man a glare. The ferocious look slid right off him; the old man simply continued, unperturbed. "Watch your back. I don't know why you've come here for refuge, but this is no safe haven." "Refuge? I'm here to make money." "Heh. That's what they all say," the old man wheezed. "But you're not equipped for it. Came to the Yeongseok Gwangsan to make your fortune, but you didn't even bring a pickaxe. That's not the look of a man who's here to work." The old man's words were sharp, and Yoon Ji-han's brow furrowed. The sight seemed to amuse the old man. Yoon Ji-han changed the subject. "You've been here a long time?" "Since they first found the Magic Stones. You could say I'm part of the bedrock." "And I've got the collection to prove it." The old man gestured with his thumb toward the dark interior of his stall. Inside, heaps of unidentifiable junk were piled high. "Belonged to people who came here holding on to hope. Just like you. They fight going into the mines, do whatever it takes to avoid it. When the money runs out, they start selling things. First the worthless trinkets, then the things they value. When there's nothing left, they finally pick up a shovel and head underground. It's the way of things." "Anything useful gets shipped to Shin-Hanseong. This… this is what's left behind. The final traces of the desperate," he finished with a dry cackle that scraped at Yoon Ji-han's nerves. The old man's gaze was heavy, as if he were already picturing Yoon Ji-han's own meager possessions in that pile. Yoon Ji-han's appetite vanished. He forced down the last of the skewer and got to his feet. "How much?" "Ten sols." Yoon Ji-han stared. "Ten sols? For one skewer? What is this, sprinkled with gold dust?" He couldn't help his outburst. The standard currency of the Shin-Hanseong Colony was the Magic Stone, pegged at one stone per kilo. A single sol was one-thousandth of that. Ten sols was a hundredth of a Magic Stone—a sliver, but an outrageous price for a piece of mystery meat. Even in Shin-Hanseong, you wouldn't see price-gouging like this. Yoon Ji-han's anger was justified, but the old man remained completely indifferent, as if he'd heard the same complaint a thousand times before. "Everything's precious out here, kid. Food, clothes, a good pickaxe. That's what sets the price." "And if I refuse to pay?" A thin, knowing smile touched the old man's lips. "Heh. You think a helpless old man like me could run a business in a place this rough for this long without a good reason?" As he spoke, other merchants nearby slowly turned their heads, their gazes fixing on Yoon Ji-han. There was no warmth in their eyes. Yoon Ji-han gritted his teeth. Part of the bedrock, the old man had said. Now Yoon Ji-han understood. He wasn't just a merchant; he was connected, maybe even the lynchpin of this whole market. You didn't survive this long out here by being helpless. You did it by having teeth. If he didn't pay, he'd likely be blacklisted. No one would sell him so much as a cup of water. Damn it. I walked right into this. "At least you've got your wits about you," the old man noted. "Some hotheads would've started swinging by now." "Hah. I don't have that kind of coin on me." "Then you must have something else," the old man said, his eyes gleaming. "A Magic Stone, perhaps? Let's have a look. I'll give you a fair price for it." Yoon Ji-han stood his ground. He'd nearly died for that Magic Stone. He wasn't about to hand it over for the price of a single, overpriced meat skewer. The old man's smirk widened at his defiance. "Kid, a rumor that you're carrying a Magic Stone will be all over this camp in an hour. You think you can hold onto it then?" The unspoken threat was clear: the old man would be the one to start that rumor. Yoon Ji-han's glare intensified, but it was useless. Yoon Ji-han prided himself on being a survivor, but the creature in front of him was survival incarnate. In shrewdness and sheer audacity, Yoon Ji-han was hopelessly outmatched. Compared to this old man, he was just a child. Once word got out, he'd have no choice. Defeated, Yoon Ji-han reached into his pants and pulled out the small shard of Magic Stone. The old man's eyes glinted like chips of flint. "Ah. A piece that size... I'll give you a hundred sols for it." "Are you kidding me? This would fetch over three hundred in Shin-Hanseong." "But this isn't Shin-Hanseong." "This is robbery." "Kid," the old man said, his voice dropping, "a treasure you can't protect is just a disaster waiting to happen." He ended with another dry, rattling chuckle. Yoon Ji-han's hand clenched into a fist. The urge to smash the smug look off the old man's face was overwhelming, but he held back. Taking the man down would be easy; surviving the aftermath would not. A man like this would have connections, maybe even to the Awakened who guarded the Yeongseok Gwangsan. The old man's posture was relaxed, utterly confident. He didn't care if Yoon Ji-han took the deal or not. Decades of thriving in this pit had given him an aura of predatory ease that made Yoon Ji-han feel small and foolish. Finally, a sigh of resignation escaped Yoon Ji-han's lips. He had risked everything for this tiny shard, and now it was worth a pittance. All that effort, for nothing. "Why did I even bother?" he muttered, and handed the Magic Stone over. "Heh. Don't look so defeated," the old man said, snatching the stone. "I'm not completely heartless. I won't fleece a newcomer down to the bone on our first meeting." He counted out some coins. "Here's ninety sols change. Keep it safe. Plenty of thieves and pickpockets around." "The cat pretending to worry about the mouse," Yoon Ji-han grumbled, but he pocketed the ninety sols. The old man chuckled and gestured to the pile of junk inside his stall. "As a token for our first transaction, you can take your pick of anything in there." "You mean that trash?" "If you don't want it..." Not about to walk away with nothing, Yoon Ji-han pushed past the old man and into the stall. He'd been swindled, and he was determined to get something, anything, to salvage a shred of his pride. He knew he wouldn't find anything of real value. All the good stuff went to Shin-Hanseong. This was just the dregs. He rummaged through the piles of scrap. "This is all garbage. What am I supposed to do with any of this?" The old man watched him, laughing softly. He found the boy amusing. Most newcomers were disheartened by now, cowed and hesitant. But this one still had some fight left in him. It meant he still had something to believe in. This place wore everything down. People, objects, hope—it all turned to dust eventually. To see someone with such raw, defiant energy was a rare sight. That's why the old man smiled. Watching the boy grumbling as he dug through the trash, so determined not to accept a total loss... it was almost endearing. Just then, Yoon Ji-han's hand emerged from a pile of junk. He held up a small, delicate hourglass. "I don't care where it came from. Why is it still here?" "Because no one wanted it," the old man said with a shrug. He'd picked it up years ago from a caravan bound for Shin-Hanseong, part of a bulk lot. It was useless, so he'd tossed it on the pile. In a ruined world, who had a use for an hourglass? It was just a decoration, the kind of useless trinket only the elites in Shin-Hanseong would buy. And they never set foot in a place like this. "Why don't you pick something else?" "Hmph. Nothing else in this pile is even in one piece," Yoon Ji-han shot back. He turned and left the stall, the hourglass clutched in his hand. "Heh. Stop by again sometime!" the old man called after him. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other." "An unfortunate thought," Yoon Ji-han muttered, stalking away. The old man watched him go, a thin smile on his lips. Before he was out of earshot, Yoon Ji-han stopped and turned back. "I'll just call you Noh Jin-tae, then, old man. And let's not see each other again." Without another word, Yoon Ji-han turned and walked away. The old man chuckled to himself as he watched him disappear. "Oh, I don't think so, boy. There's still plenty of meat left on those bones. Heheheh." When a fish took the bait, you stripped it to the bone. That was the law of the Yeongseok Gwangsan, and no one knew the law better than Noh Jin-tae.

Chapter 4: First Steps of Power