The hum of flickering lights and distant chatter filled the local mart as Jaemin pushed his cart slowly through the produce aisle. A cold breeze slipped past from the refrigeration units, but he barely noticed. His eyes moved from basket to basket—inspecting, judging, frowning.

  He picked up a tomato and squeezed it lightly with his thumb. Too soft. Back into the pile.

  Then a pack of spinach—already wilting.

  "Tch."

  His cart creaked slightly as he turned toward the green onions, picking up a fresh bundle. The price tag glared at him.

  "…What am I buying? Green onions or gold?"

  He muttered, clicking his tongue and placing it down with a sigh. "Should've bought some back when inflation wasn't a daily hobby."

  His footsteps echoed faintly as he passed through the fruit section, reaching out to pick a few apples—checking each one carefully, rotating it like it was some priceless artifact.

  He stopped at a bruised one. Deadpan.

  "…Nah."

  After carefully arranging five decent ones into the cart, he moved toward the chilled section. Frosted glass doors lined the aisle like a freezer vault.

  "Where are the yogurts…"

  He mumbled, scanning the racks behind the foggy doors. He opened one with a smooth pull, cold air brushing against his arm.

  Then he saw them.

  "Ahh. This one is it."

  He said, nodding to himself. He grabbed four packs of twelve—his arms full for a second as he dropped them carefully into the cart.

  "These are Nari's favourites, right?"

  He didn't even glance at the price tag.

  No frown. No matter. No second thoughts. If it was for her, it was worth it. Simple as that.

  He turned the cart and kept moving. The tires bumped gently over the tile.

  Further down, a section came into view—rows of low-level Coreborn gear on dusty stands. Nothing elite. Nothing fancy. Just cheap arm guards, rust-resistant blades, reinforced boots, and faded vests that promised "+3% Defence" or "Minor Flux Resistance."

  He stopped.

  Stared for a moment.

  Picked up a black glove marked "BEGINNER'S CORE CONDUIT: Precision Boost +1%."

  "Do I need them…"

  He murmured.

  His reflection stared back at him in the dull, scratched mirror behind the display.

  All he could remember was a time when he did need them. When even a glove like this would've been a dream. When he stood outside this very shelf and calculated whether a half-torn boot was worth skipping a meal.

  Now…?

  He didn't need it. Not even close. And even if he wanted it… the tag still felt too high for what he was getting in return.

  He put the glove back on the hook and let out a short breath.

  Then turned his cart and kept walking.

  "The fuck…"

  Jaemin muttered under his breath, eyeing the numbers on the little electronic price tag of a plain pack of eggs.

  "Why is everything so expensive? Someday I'll have to pay tax for existing past 100 years…"

  He scratched the back of his arm, half in annoyance, half in disbelief.

  "Um, excuse me?"

  He called out, spotting a worker restocking the dairy aisle nearby.

  "Yes? How can I help you?"

  The worker asked, polite but clearly tired.

  "I was wondering… where could I find more Coreborn gear? Not the starter trash here—something decent."

  "Oh, uh…"

  The worker blinked, thinking.

  "I'm not sure about here, but maybe online? Oh! Wait—yeah, there's a small shop that specialises in gear. Not far—just seven blocks down from here. Has a weird name, but you can't miss it."

  "Aah, I see."

  Jaemin nodded, casually bowing a little.

  "Thanks."

  "No problem!"

  He pushed the cart toward the cashier, waiting for his turn behind a family with what looked like a year's worth of groceries. A couple more muttered grumbles later, he finally scanned his things, packed them up, and left.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The cold air hit his face as soon as the automatic doors slid open.

  Plastic bags dangling from both arms, he walked. And walked. And walked.

  "What is this, a side quest?"

  Jaemin muttered, squinting at the streets ahead as he passed a cafe, then a noodle place, then a rickety second-hand bookstore.

  Then, finally… he stopped.

  "What the…"

  He muttered aloud.

  The store stood awkwardly squeezed between two closed buildings. Its sign was half-broken, and the glass door had a massive crack running diagonally through it. A rusty board above read: "LUNAR GEAR (Mostly Legit)"

  The lights inside flickered once. The place looked like it was stitched together with duct tape and sheer will.

  "Am I at the black market or something?"

  Jaemin muttered, stepping forward. His bags rustled as he gently pushed the door open.

  Ding-ling-ling.

  "Hey, is anyone there?"

  Jaemin called out, eyeing the half-burnt lightbulb swinging above his head.

  A man appeared—seemingly out of nowhere—from behind a dusty shelf. His long brown hair was loose, a few strands falling over his shoulders until he quickly tied it up into a messy bun with one hand.

  "Yeah, what can I help you with?"

  The man asked casually, wiping his hands on a grease-stained cloth tucked into his belt.

  Jaemin raised an eyebrow.

  "…I'm looking for some high-ranking gear to wear or use."

  The man gave a short nod.

  "Yeah yeah, come along."

  He waved Jaemin to follow, walking past shelves of cracked helmets and mismatched gauntlets, through a curtained hallway into the back section.

  This area was different.

  The floor was polished concrete. The lights were cooler and focused. And the gear? Immaculate. Displayed inside reinforced glass boxes, each piece had a flickering holo-tag next to it with specs, prices, and augmentation potential.

  From sleek kinetic exo-boots to flux-dampening chestplates lined with silver trim—everything here screamed "classified."

  The man cracked a small smile.

  "This… is the good shit."

  The contrast was wild.

  Outside, the place looked like a glorified junk pile. The first few shelves were a warzone of busted gauntlets, bent swords, and cracked helmets covered in dust that looked older than most Coreborn themselves. But this section? It looked like a museum exhibit. No, like a damn underground vault. Sleek. Spotless. Bright panels lit up each display.

  Every single item—polished, dangerous-looking, and sealed behind thick glass.

  The price tags? Well… Jaemin squinted at one of them and nearly whistled.

  "Eighty-four million won? What is it made of God's teeth?"

  His eyes caught something in the corner.

  A weapon—long, lean, deadly. Jet black from tip to grip. It looked like a longbow carved straight from a shadow. Minimal design. No glamour. Just efficiency.

  The label below it blinked:

  [MIDNIGHT WAR-BOW]

  [Grade: S-Class]

  [Type: Kinetic Shadow Integration]

  [Price: ?129,000,000]

  Jaemin tilted his head.

  "...May I get this one?"

  "Sure thing, pal."

  The long-haired guy replied, popping a toothpick in his mouth and casually unlocking the glass case.

  "You're not gonna check ID or anything?"

  Jaemin asked, one brow raised.

  "Why would I? You're paying money. I don't care if you're a circus clown or a convicted god."

  That was the moment Jaemin wondered if this shop was black-market adjacent.

  But the product tags were legit. The system scan was clean. Hell, the database even pinged it with a registered build code.

  So he paid. Swiped the full amount from his account—felt the heartbreak stab in his chest when his balance dropped—and picked it up.

  With a whisper of air, the Midnight War-bow shimmered out of his hand and slotted straight into his inventory.

  "KIECK!!"

  The man shrieked, his whole body jumping like he had just seen a ghost.

  Jaemin blinked.

  "Oh... right. Forgot he existed for a second."

  "WHERE DID THE BOW GO?!"

  The man's voice cracked like a kid hitting puberty.

  Jaemin calmly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a card—a usual card, the one used to play normal card games.

  "Watch closely."

  He said, his tone flat. With a flick of his fingers, the red heart symbol on the card twisted mid-air… and turned into a black spade.

  "H-HUCK!!"

  The guy damn near fell over.

  "Shhh."

  Jaemin pressed a finger over his lips.

  "It's a secret. But I'm letting you in."

  He took one step back, still holding that same deadpan look.

  "I'm a magician."

  And with that, he slid out the door backwards, eyes locked on the guy's wide face until he was fully out of sight.

  The second he was outside and out of view, Jaemin let out a small evil chuckle.

  "I love fooling people. Jejeje~"

  Plastic bags still in hand, yogurt still packed, bow now in his arsenal, Jaemin finally turned towards the path home.

  The door creaked open.

  Yeah... he saw this coming.

  Nari was on the sofa—upside down, blanket-wrapped like some goddamn human burrito.

  "Seriously…"

  Jaemin sighed, kicking off his shoes and heading straight for the kitchen, bags in tow. The fridge door swung open with a low hum as he started pulling out vegetables.

  He turned around—

  "..."

  Nari was now at the dining table. Sitting there. Smiling like a gremlin.

  "Oppa~ how was your one-week trip~? Did you get me souvenirs?"

  She chirped.

  If she'd asked a few hours earlier, he might've actually handed her the decapitated head of a high-class Abyssal.

  "I went for work, Nari… And I've got to head out again tomorrow. Rift Raid."

  She frowned a little.

  "Do you not get tired from working so much? It's not good to overwork yourself, you know…"

  "I know. I'm fine.'

  He replied, monotone, already peeling onions like it was muscle memory.

  Rustle. Shuffle.

  Bag sounds.

  Nari was suddenly digging into the mart bags like a wild raccoon.

  "Yeeeeeeee!!!"

  She screeched.

  THUD!

  She launched herself onto him in a sudden, tight, rib-crushing hug. The kind that made you think a chiropractor should be on speed dial.

  Jaemin barely reacted. His arms stayed at his side.

  Still, a faint smile curled on his lips.

  "You bought my favourite yogurts!!! I've been looking for these for like three days!"

  She squealed, releasing him and snatching a spoon with lightning reflexes.

  CLACK.

  Spoon gone. Jaemin snatched it right out of her hand.

  "Oi. I'm making food. Don't ruin your appetite scarfing that down."

  He said, moving the yogurts out of reach like some kind of hostage negotiator.

  Nari huffed. And then—

  THWACK.

  She kicked his shin.

  Jaemin didn't even flinch.

  "Seriously, how do you buy me a mountain of yogurt but then act like I can't eat it?"

  She grumbled.

  "Because I'm the elder one here."

  He shrugged.

  "…My ass."

  She mumbled under her breath.

  Unfortunately for her, Jaemin had excellent hearing.

  SPLASH.

  Cold water. Right on her face.

  "Shut it, will you…"

  He muttered.

  Nari yelped, grabbing a dish towel and cursing in half-whispers while Jaemin turned back to the stove, smile still stuck on his face.

  Yeah.

  This… felt like home.