Chapter 192
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The Investor I
I regret not discussing ordinary people more.
This world, governed by awakened abilities, has created a hierarchical society resembling a pyramid. In old tis, wealth was passed down through families, but awakened abilities defy even DNA inheritance. They're like a gacha ga based on pure luck—unpredictable and arbitrary.
As for the most desired jobs among ordinary children these days―
Career Preference Survey for Children Under 10
③ Laborer in large guilds – 10.2%
② mber of the National Road Managent Corps caravan – 14.4%
① Writer – 26.8%
Surprisingly, the most coveted job among today's youth is that of a writer.
"Mom! I want to be a writer when I grow up!"
"Being a writer is like being a god!"
Indeed, it was the golden age of literature, not just of humanities.
The roots of the sudden literary craze were deep and mysterious.
It wasn't always like this. The field of humanities has always been a source of embarrassnt on the Korean Peninsula, especially the ultimate example in the form of creative writing.
This attitude and treatnt altogether reversed beginning in the 205th cycle.
Do you rember any incidents that occurred during cycle 205?
♪♫*♪~Feels like walking in a dream~♪♫*♪
Thank you for visiting our 『DREAM』 casino ٩(♡ε♡ )۶ We welco you with all our heart! ◕‿◕)⼃
That’s right, the Dream Casino.
In the 206th cycle, casino dealers, who turned money into dreams, began to work in earnest in the Inunaki Tunnel, and people couldn't help but be enthralled by this miraculous casino.
"Give endless Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McDonald's and those slightly soggy, super salty fries until I'm sick of them!"
"Hoho! That will be 160 won!"
"I want a beautiful girl who only looks at in my dreams..."
"Hohoho! Specifying a person costs 1,000 won, setting up the relationship is 2,000 won, starting from a base price of 3,000 won!"
In the beginning, most people's wishes were focused on basic pleasures, like food and sex. This was true of both Awakeners and ordinary people. If they had money, they spent it all; if not, they still indulged in luxuries.
"Wow! In reality, all I can drink is nasty alcohol, but in dreams, I can guzzle down delicious whiskies to my heart's content!"
"There are people in this dream!"
"Work has been really enjoyable lately. I used to think, 'Why bother when we're all going to die by anomalies anyway?' But now, I can't wait to rush to the casino after the workday ends. It really boosts my motivation to work."
Even if soone had immoral or unethical wishes, it didn't matter. It was just a dream, after all. The tutorial fairies who brought these dreams to life weren't particularly moralistic. People indulged in their dreams without worrying about what others thought, and the productivity of the workforce, which had been plumting on the Korean Peninsula, miraculously revived.
People should have been happy forever then—but of course, reality was not so kind.
"Even whiskey gets boring after a while..."
"My dream lover is great, but she feels a bit passive. I have to decide how she'll react and what she'll say before I even start dreaming. It's nice to be loved, but it feels a bit like dating AI..."
"After rethinking it, I guess work really is suffering. Why do we have to work to live?"
Humans are creatures who never know satisfaction!
More precisely, even if they are satisfied, they quickly get used to it and start craving more and more. Especially since the Dream Casino offered a service with one fatal flaw.
"It's great to enter a dream because it feels like reality, but having to set up everything beforehand really kills the imrsion..."
The lack of spontaneity.
For instance, let's say soone wanted to dream about “being late for school, running through the streets, and then bumping into a beautiful girl (equipped with strawberry jam toast in her mouth) at a street corner, and then 'Hey kids, there's a new transfer student' and 'Are you that lucky guy from then?!'” (This was a highly popular scenario requested by 310 people in Busan alone.)
It might have been fun to experience a scenario that had once only been the subject of unfulfilled fantasy, but the truth is, such a setup required 'spontaneity.'
Being late by chance, bumping into soone by chance, and that person turning out to be a new student. Only then would a love story truly make the protagonist's heart flutter.
"But giving the tutorial fairies freedom..."
"They'd make a tutorial dungeon out of anything and force people to kill each other! Shit, why should I have to endure more real-life experiences when I could be sweet-talking my lover in my dreams?"
"Hohoho, I really don't understand..."
Frankly, it wasn't my concern.
'People are just satiated.'
They complain that setting up their dreams beforehand ruins the fun? What does it matter? Aren't they experiencing desires they can't fulfill in reality?
I once discussed this with Noh Do-hwa.
"Perfection doesn't exist in this world. If we cater to these complaints, new grievances will soon arise. Nowadays, young people can't think of the old days. They just complain about the present. Tsk, tsk."
Noh Do-hwa looked at over her glasses. "You're not suffering from so disease where you'll die if you don't periodically act like an old geezer, are you...?"
Anyway, I ignored the complaints of the casino patrons, treating them as nothing more than the grumblings of those who had their fill.
But not everyone thought the sa as .
What I dismissed as 'whining of the satiated' was seen by soone else as 'the cries of a hungry potential custor'—a market yet to be tapped.
Writers began to take action.
Let's say you are an Awakener in Busan who loves whiskey.
Being an Awakener isn't a particularly prestigious status. You're just a lowly mber of a small guild. You work hard every day, scrimping and saving so you can visit the Dream Casino three or four tis a week.
Lately, however, you've been having so concerns.
'The whiskey tastes great, but just going to a whiskey bar and drinking non-stop isn't as enjoyable as it was the first ti...'
In other words, you're experiencing a kind of ennui.
You've thought about eting a virtual lover in your dreams like other people, but honestly, you're not really motivated to do that. You just like whiskey.
'Should I cut down on drinking? Hmm?'
As you dragged yourself toward the casino, a sign that you hadn't noticed before catches your eye.
[Cocktail Bar Mori (森) OPEN]
Location: Apgujeong Rodeo Station, Seoul
Business hours: 7 PM to 2 AM
Bartender experience:
- 1st place in World Class Japan
- Runner-up in the World Bartender Championship
Your eyes light up.
'A cocktail bar? In Apgujeong Rodeo? Wait, why are they advertising in Busan?'
You love whiskey, but you don’t hate cocktails. In fact, you started drinking whiskey after finding you liked cocktails.
Naturally, you beco interested and approach the timid promoter standing behind the sign.
"Excuse ."
"Y-yes?"
"About this cocktail bar. Is it currently operating in Seoul?"
"Ah, well..." The person behind the sign seems unusually shy for a promoter. Poorly dressed and apparently not well-fed, he visibly struggles to maintain his composure. "It's... a setup..."
"Sorry?"
"This cocktail bar has just opened, and, well, I made up the setting myself. It's a dream setting. If you buy my dream, I get a small commission, and I'll invite you to the cocktail bar I've set up..."
His voice is soft and his speech disjointed, but you manage to grasp what he’s getting at. "Oh, so it's not a real cocktail bar, but one you've created in a dream? I have to pay to enter?"
"Yes. I used to be a writer, so I'm good at this. It'll be great, honest..."
A writer.
Not exactly reassuring. In this post-apocalyptic world, being a writer is a completely unproductive occupation. (Even when civilization was thriving, it wasn't particularly productive.)
"What's so great about it? Honestly, I don't see why I should pay. The whiskey bar I've set up is really fancy."
"S-spoilers..."
"Sorry?"
"I can't tell you what's different because it's a spoiler... Sorry..."
At this point, most people would have walked away, thinking they were being taken for a fool. But you, you’re different. The truth of it is, you were chosen for this story because you’re the first to react differently.
You’re intrigued.
"How much is it?"
"I-is what?"
"The cocktail bar. How much do I need to pay to get in?"
"Oh, just 500 won! It's a grand opening event! I'll invite you for just 500 won..."
It isn’t cheap by any ans, but it’s not so much that it’d stop an Awakener like you. "Here you go."
"Ah! Th-thank you! Sir! You will be blessed! I really will make sure you have no regrets..."
Although he looks more like a beggar than a writer, you nevertheless hand over 500 won to the person in front of you.
The writer hurries off to the fairy guarding the casino entrance. "A guest! A guest has arrived! Now, as promised, please let him in..."
"Hoho? You're actually going along with this ridiculous scam?" the fairy says to you.
"As promised! Hurry!"
"Hoho, the world is truly a curious place."
You feel even more uneasy as you listen to the exchange, but the water had already been spilled.
'Well. If it feels too strange, I'll just consider it a 500 won donation to a beggar.'
You follow the dream guide into the inner part of the casino where you lay down on the bed in the sleep room. Normally, this would be the ti when you'd specify exactly what kind of dream you want, detailing the atmosphere and taste of the whiskey bar, but this ti, the writer interrupts you.
"Just go to sleep like this..."
"Sorry?"
"You're visiting the store I'm promoting in your dream! You don't need to specify anything. Of course, if you want to change your appearance or status, you'll need to tell ..."
"No, I usually just dream as I am."
"Well, then sleep away..."
And instead of you and the fairy discussing the setup, the writer and the fairy whisper and murmur to each other.
'It does feel a bit ominous.'
But what can you do? You’re already lying down on the bed.
You suppress your unease and listen to the fairy's lullaby―
And the next mont, you find yourself standing on a street near Apgujeong Rodeo Station.
"Oh?"
It’s an alleyway, just out of sight of where cars are waiting for the signal on the main road. It was a scene taken straight out of Seoul before civilization collapsed.
Turning your head, you see a small sign on a store.
[MORI 森]
This must be the cocktail bar the writer ntioned.
'The atmosphere of the dream itself is pretty convincing.'
You feel a tingle of anticipation as you open the door.
Inside, the bar is so small that barely ten people can fit. It’s more like those local-style cocktail bars you find more often in Japan than in Korea, izakaya.
The bartender pauses where he was reaching for the bottles and turns around to greet you.
"Irasshaimase!"
"Uh?"
A Japanese bartender?
The genetic predisposition for foreign language anxiety that lay dormant in every Korean is triggered.
As you stand there slightly flustered, the bartender puts down the bottle and smiles gently. "Welco. Please co inside."
His Korean is awkward. You try to keep your expressions and gestures as polite as possible as you step further into the bar.
"I'm sorry. I don't speak Japanese... Are you Japanese?"
"Yes. I'm learning Korean very hard! Kim Yuna! Son Heung-min! I love it!"
"Ah... Your Korean is really good."
"Thank you!"
Fortunately, you are the only custor in the bar. It would have been pretty embarrassing if there had been others.
But the best part about alcohol, like music, is that it's a universal language. Just as Mozart's music sounds the sa whether in Austria or China, the nas of drinks don't change across borders.
"Would you like to try a Godfather first?"
"Godfather. Yes, understood!"
Before long, the bartender whips up a cocktail and hands it to you. And as you touched the drink to your lips—
'...It's delicious?'
The taste of the drink is superb. If you had left it all to the tutorial fairy, the taste of a Godfather might have co out as Midori Sour, completely mixed up. That's why you had to specify each flavor yourself before dreaming.
But not this ti.
It tastes exactly like the cocktail you ordered, and even if it’s not exactly 'your favorite style,' it’s still delicious enough to enjoy.
It’s as if―
'—you're visiting a new cocktail bar that you've never been in before.'
You look around.
It’s your first ti visiting such a cramped cocktail bar. The cocktail bars you know in Korea are usually quite spacious.
The interior. The lighting. The bartender's nationality.
Everything feels refreshing, feels new.
"This drink is really good."
"Ah, really? Thank you."
"Could you also make a Manhattan?"
"Manhattan! You seem to like these drinks."
"Yes. I've always loved whiskey..."
Under the dim lighting, natural conversation flows between you and the bartender.
The glasses and the snack plates are quickly emptied. You’re drinking faster than usual, but it doesn’t feel overwhelming at all.
"So how did you end up in Korea, if you don't mind my asking? Isn't Japan better for business?"
"Actually, my wife is Korean..."
"Oh!"
"My mother-in-law did not agree to the marriage at first. She wanted two things: I speak Korean and I live in Korea."
"Wow. So you learned Korean and even opened a bar here because you really love your wife."
"Yes! I love her! A lot!"
Stories you didn't know.
A bar you hadn't been aware of.
A person you hadn't t before.
'Right.'
You empty your glass, you laugh with the bartender, and you get completely drunk, forgetting that you are dreaming.
'This is it. This is what a bar should be like.'
The next day, you visit Cocktail Bar Mori once again. That day, too, you have the bartender all to yourself.
When you visit two days later, there are two custors. They are your guildmates.
A month later, 'Mori' is packed with custors.
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