Danbi, still wearing her armor coat, came toward Suho with a slight, almost flying jump.
“Um... I’m wearing the [Forged Ray Ring], the [Elastrin Silk Defensive Suit], and the [Diatanos Belt] right now, and I think I need to know how much of an attack these can block. You have your sword, right, Danbi? Try stabbing me once with that [Song of the Stars].”
“Ah... hahaha...”
Danbi broke out in a cold sweat at Suho’s absurd request.
From Danbi’s point of view, the defensive items Suho had equipped were fairly excellent in their own right, but they were fundamentally lightweight pieces with an emphasis on utility, and most of them were protective gear meant for daily life.
They were hard to consider equipment for climbing the Tower, where one had to withstand high damage—in other words, anti-monster gear.
Compared to that, her [Song of the Stars] was an ultra-powerful weapon capable of dealing effective damage even against high-grade monsters.
“...Um, Suho. You can’t block the Song of the Stars with things like that.”
“Eek...”
As Suho instantly drooped, Danbi planted a realistic seed of hope in him.
“Still, in everyday life, unless it’s a fairly serious threat, you won’t even budge.”
“That’s why I need to get a sense of exactly how much...”
“Um... one moment.”
Danbi went into a room inside the damage-measurement chamber, entered a passcode, opened a cabinet, and brought something out.
“Hiek! Wait, why do you have something like that?”
What she had brought was a Remington pump-action shotgun.
“Well, the clan bought it for various measurement purposes. We purchased it with government approval, so don’t worry.”
“Whoa... Y-you’re not going to shoot me with that, are you?”
“Yes. They should block this much easily. I’m going to show you.”
“N-no, no, just use the Song of the Stars...”
“The Song of the Stars can’t even be compared to the damage from a shotgun like this. That’s why I brought this out.”
“Whoa...”
“Stand over there, in front of the black steel plate.”
“Ah, haha... wait a moment. I need to prepare myself... and I still don’t know how to infuse ether into them...”
“The ring, Elastrin defensive suit, belt, and boots you’re wearing don’t require ether infusion. They activate automatically in specific situations.”
“Huaah......”
Well, if that was the case.
Right. In fact, wasn’t this what he had wanted? A proper test. A test was best when it was certain.
Suho steeled himself.
“Okay. Then... I’m ready.”
Suho let his arms hang down and stood in a relaxed posture. But without realizing it, his whole body tensed up and his fists clenched tightly.
“Here I go.”
Click-clack, bang—! Click-clack, bang—! Click-clack, bang—! Click-clack,
Danbi fired the fearsome shotgun in rapid succession.
Sparks flew, and the smell of gunpowder spread along with a thunderous roar that battered his ears.
The first to respond was the [Forged Ray Ring].
A shield of light bright enough to be seen with the naked eye formed in front of him, then easily deflected the shotgun shells.
The shotgun’s damage couldn’t break the shield, and the shield shone in front of Suho until its inherent duration ran out.
But once its duration of about ten seconds ended, the shield naturally disappeared, and the [Diatanos Belt] began to react. It started reflecting a certain amount of damage.
Some of the damage it failed to reflect came straight through to Suho, but the [Elastrin Silk Defensive Suit] neutralized the bullets’ kinetic energy.
Also, part of the shotgun’s impact reflected by the belt bounced back toward Danbi, and fortunately, that too was blocked by the armor coat she was wearing.
When the shells ran out, Danbi stopped firing.
The overheated barrel radiated heat, and the smell of gunpowder hung thick amid the white smoke.
“Phew, how was that?”
“It’s... definite. The performance, I mean.”
Unlike the ring, the Diatanos Belt and Elastrin Silk Defensive Suit continued operating, so Suho could barely feel the impact of the shotgun. There was only a slight pressure, as if someone were poking him in the chest with their palm.
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
Danbi smiled and put the gun back in the cabinet.
“Then these boots...”
As Suho looked down at the boots and hopped in place, Danbi, having put the gun away and returned, came right up to him.
“Ah, we need to test those too, don’t we? Excuse me.”
“What? Uwaak!”
Danbi lightly wrapped an arm around Suho’s waist and flew into the air. In an instant, the two of them rose to over ten meters.
“Aaaah! W-wait a second!”
“You’ll only be able to feel the effect at about this height.”
“Wait! It’s too high. Too high!”
Danbi had already let go of Suho, but Suho, too startled, clung tightly to Danbi and wouldn’t let her go.
Danbi, her ears turning bright red, grabbed Suho again and descended to about half the height, stopping at roughly five meters.
“Now try it. This much should be fine.”
“Huaa... o-okay. This should be enough.”
Only then did Suho make up his mind to jump down and let go of Danbi.
Whoosh— tap— shooosh!
Immediately after the impact of the fall, the moment fall damage reached the soles of his feet, the Skyfall Boots absorbed the shock and released that energy outward.
It felt as if steam had burst out in every direction around Suho’s feet.
The shock Suho felt in his ankles and legs was only about as much as jumping down from a step twenty-five centimeters high.
“Waaah...”
He was purely impressed.
Yes, he could make use of this.
Suho felt that he had taken another step closer to “safety” in reality.
* * *
“Hyung, hello.”
“Oh? It’s been a while.”
When he returned home after finishing his schedule, Jiho’s friend Seungwon was there.
Seungwon was Jiho’s friend from childhood, a guy who had often hung out with Suho too when they were young.
Though as they grew older, Suho had distanced himself because their personalities didn’t quite match.
“Something happen?”
“What would happen? I just came to hang out with Jiho.”
“Yeah? What are you doing these days?”
“Playing around.”
“Yeah? Before, you were working at...”
“They said they were downsizing, so I got cut.”
“That’s rough...”
It wasn’t anything new.
In a world where youth unemployment was all too common, getting fired from a perfectly decent job was something that repeated itself like an everyday occurrence.
In a precarious economy, extreme job insecurity followed people around like a friend.
“I think this is my first time coming over since you moved into this house. Wow, but this place is seriously nice. Did someone in the family win the lottery?”
“Something like that.”
“Really? Damn. I’m so jealous.”
After that, Seungwon came over frequently to see Jiho.
Jiho didn’t particularly push him away, and Suho regarded him as Jiho’s guest and didn’t interfere.
But every time Seungwon came over, what he actually showed interest in was Suho—and the work Suho was trying to do.
However, Suho found Seungwon uncomfortable, so he had no intention whatsoever of working with him.
In particular, he truly hated the guy’s distinctive cynicism and personality that was dissatisfied with everything.
“Hyung, I heard you’re making a ton of money these days? Haa, must be nice.”
“I saw your car, hyung. It’s insane! A new Comandorghini! You have to give me a ride sometime.”
“Hyung, I heard you’re starting some business. Is there anything I can help with? I’m pretty useful, you know.”
Suho gradually began to feel exhausted.
“Uh... I’m fine. I’ve got enough hands.”
“Wow, this is crazy. I’ve never seen an android this elaborate before. Wow, money really is great. If you pour money into it, you can buy stuff like this too. This is totally amazing.”
“Oh, this furniture is seriously expensive. How much did you buy it for? I know a thing or two about this field.”
“Ah, the speakers. There’s another brand with way better cost-performance for these. What a shame.”
The guy kept rattling off appraisals of the expensive things in Suho’s house without stopping, constantly showing his envy.
Just listening to that nonstop chatter was torture.
This was nice, that was enviable,
That was even more amazing, wow, I’m jealous, must be so nice.
Chatter, chatter, snide little remarks—it was so exhausting Suho thought he might go insane.
All the more so for Suho, who was in fact fiercely battling the emptiness of abundance and struggling to find the meaning of life.
Finally, one day, unable to hold back his irritation, he ended up saying something.
“Hey, man. What are you so jealous of?”
“All of this. Everything. That bastard Jiho’s living the good life because he has a great hyung. He wasn’t born with a silver spoon, but now it’s basically a diamond spoon, isn’t it?”
“Phew... Seungwon.”
“Yes?”
“From what I’ve experienced, when it comes to buying things, the most enjoyable time is when something you want appears, and you dream about it, research it, and look at it.”
“Huh?”
“And when you save money or make an effort to obtain it, and finally succeed in purchasing it—or when you receive it and unbox it—that satisfaction reaches its peak.”
“Ha, that’s true. You know what’s up, hyung.”
“But the problem starts after that. Your satisfaction with the object drops sharply, and before long, you don’t feel anything at all.”
“Ahem...”
“This is common to everyone. Do you know what that means?”
“No.”
“A rich person who can have anything is already deprived of the joy and happiness in this area, and has to live inside that emptiness.”
“Mm... I get what you mean. In one word, it sounds like complaining on a full stomach.”
“It is complaining on a full stomach. But just as being hungry enough to starve is painful, being so stuffed from overeating that your stomach feels like it’ll burst is also agonizing enough to kill you.”
“Hmm... Do you think people who don’t have money, who can’t even eat what they want, can’t get treatment when they’re sick, and are miserable because of money would sympathize with that?”
“I’m not saying money isn’t necessary. Who doesn’t know you need money to live? What I’m talking about is that envy you keep going on and on about.”
“Ahem...”
Seungwon raised the corner of his mouth in a smirk and shrugged.
It was an expression that made Suho want to beat the crap out of him.
“Well. To me, it just sounds like self-indulgent whining from people who have things. So what, are you saying people need a moderate lack of things? ‘I have no appetite, so please just starve me.’ Isn’t that way too pathetic? Anyway, I don’t know about all that philosophical stuff. I just want to make a ton of money, no matter what. No matter how much money I had, I’m confident I could use it meaningfully, productively, and happily. I’d make proper investments too, and manage my assets meticulously.”
“Oh?”
“Emptiness? That’s something weak-minded losers fall into and flounder around in.”
“Hmm. So you’re not a loser, you just don’t have things because you never got the chance? And because you don’t have them, you can’t show how you’d use them properly?”
“Something like that.”
As Suho quietly stared at this irritating guy who was so full of confidence, a bit of curiosity arose in him.
He wanted to test it.
The possibility that someone could use an enormous amount of money meaningfully, productively, and happily.
“Fine, I understand. The emptiness of abundance is a realm you can’t know until you’ve reached it. But when that time comes, make sure you remember what I said.”
“Haha, yes sir. Though I don’t know if a time like that will ever come in my life.”
“It has. Right now. Tell me your account number.”
* * *
At the OnTower auction house again, he listed and sold five [Highest-Grade Healing Potions] and five [Highest-Grade Disease-Curing Potions].
The total sale price for the ten bottles was 320 million points.
The price had definitely dropped.
It seemed that since the supply was steady, more chaebols were thinking they could just buy them at the next opportunity.
“Hmm... So they’re putting it off until next time, huh?”
He figured he shouldn’t sell potions for a while.
“If I had my way, I’d like to sell Magrite...”
The value of the hardest metal in the universe was limitless. Especially if one made a weapon from it—how outstanding a weapon would that be?
But since it was a substance that had never appeared before, no one would have any idea what it was, and because they wouldn’t know its value, it would be difficult to receive a large amount of money for it.
In any case, “making money” was nothing more than a pastime for Suho, but an auction where people couldn’t properly recognize an item’s value was no fun.
Suho moved a little beyond the Dream Village to the endlessly stretching land right beside it.
There, frames woven from black metal were spread out—frames Suho had asked Ravi to make from none other than Magrite.
Rows of multi-tiered racks, like storage racks for gold bars, were densely arranged like furrows in a vinyl greenhouse, stretching for hundreds of meters.
The reason he had made frames like this was purely useless.
It was because, at some point, Suho had fallen in love with the form of a one-kilogram gold bar.
A gold bar with dimensions of six centimeters wide, eleven centimeters long, and 0.8 centimeters thick—the size and shape of it, its clean smartphone-like appearance, had strangely captivated him.
So he began making and organizing ten thousand tons of pure gold bars—in other words, ten million of them.
The act of neatly standing the gold bars upright and slotting them into the grooves of the precisely made frames was fun in itself, and seeing the gold bars standing in orderly rows like dominoes, packed tightly together, made him feel very good.
The act of arranging them in lines like that also seemed to calmly settle his complicated feelings.
Since he was at it, he also began making and organizing platinum, pure silver, diamonds, and SS-grade, SSS-grade, and EX-grade Etherium in the same size and shape as the gold bars, ten million of each.
He had infinite time anyway. There was no reason he couldn’t.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Ravi, who had been watching Suho engage in yet another new eccentricity despite thinking she ought to be used to it by now, asked.
“You know, like this. When you arrange things of the same size neatly in rows, it makes you feel good. It feels good when you look at them later, and it feels good when you take them out one by one and put them back too. Sigh, how would you understand this kind of joy?”
Ravi opened her large eyes wide and round as she spoke.
“Ah, I know! It was in something I studied recently.”
“Yeah? What was it?”
“Ordering compulsion, which appears as a subtype of obsessive-compulsive disorder.”
“...... Forget it. I’m not talking to you.”
Suho took a box of the Elixir of Anti-Aging and left the warehouse.