Chapter 1: The Warehouse Keeper of Morgue (1)

[…Next up in the news. The ranking of Korea’s richest children in stock investments has been updated. As of the closing price on the 0th of the 0th month, new names have made it onto the list, sparking widespread attention.]

– Han Dajeong (1st): Stock assets worth 45.67 billion won.

– Kang Yuju (4th): Stock assets worth 23.42 billion won.

– Jung Seonjae (10th): Stock assets worth 9.89 billion won.

– Heo Hongjun (12th): Stock assets worth 9.43 billion won.

– Yoon William (13th): Stock assets worth 8.99 billion won.

[The common thread among these children is their extraordinarily privileged backgrounds, such as being the grandson of the chairman of OO Corporation, the daughter of the vice president of XX Holdings, or the son of the executive director of GG Pharmaceuticals…]

At that moment, someone’s voice abruptly cut through the sound of the news.

“Damn it.”

This was a shabby company cafeteria.

A place where day laborers from the logistics warehouse gathered to eat.

The workers, slouched over and watching the news, began chiming in with their own remarks.

“Hey, what the hell! How do those little brats have so much money in stocks? Do those golden spoons start studying investments from the womb or what?”

“Kim, what kind of nonsense is that? You think they invested that themselves? It’s just their parents funneling money into their side accounts.”

“So, what, you’re saying those kids are just someone’s warehouse characters?”

“Exactly. So shut up and eat your food, Kim.”

“Still, I’m jealous. Their warehouses are all luxurious, and here we are in this…”

The rundown logistics warehouse was filled with an endless stream of all sorts of goods.

The people gathered here had to haul items all day in front of conveyor belts.

This job, also known as “loading and unloading,” was notorious for its grueling intensity.

Especially for newcomers, it wasn’t uncommon to get sick or injured from recklessly taking on the work.

There was even a saying that medical bills could end up costing more than the wages earned.

…And my job was also loading and unloading at this logistics warehouse.

My name is Cha Hasang.

Age 24.

After being discharged from the military, I was saving up for tuition and living expenses before returning to school.

I didn’t even have enough money to pay this month’s rent, so I was up at the crack of dawn, working at the warehouse, chewing on dusty rice.

I absentmindedly mumbled as I thought about the kids on the TV.

Poor things.

Is it really happiness to have such vast wealth at such a young age?

To live a life without agency, as someone’s spare character or warehouse alt—could that really be a good life?

To have your real name broadcast on TV before you can even think for yourself, to have your family ties exposed, to be envied and resented by strangers—what kind of life is that?

Then again, it’s a life I’ve never experienced, so there’s no reason to envy or pity them. 

Honestly, it’s kind of ridiculous for someone in my position to feel sorry for them in the first place…

I was lost in these thoughts when a voice suddenly cut in.

“What? Poor things?”

The mocking voice came from beside me.

Hong Mujin.

A middle-aged man who acted like a shift leader in this logistics warehouse.

He was older, skilled at his job, and a long-time veteran who’d been clocking in for years.

For some reason, this guy absolutely, positively, hated me.

“Hey, kid! Who’s pitiful here? Those little brats?”

“You brainless idiot. You think kids who were handed billions from birth are pitiful? Then what about you?”

“What does that make you, scarfing down smelly cod in this grimy warehouse cafeteria, worried about being late for roll call, burning your mouth in a rush?”

I didn’t have anything to say.

I knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.

But I didn’t know where or how to argue back, and I didn’t have the energy or passion to try.

I lowered my head, staring at the dented tray piled high with rice, some pathetic side dishes, and a shriveled piece of cod stew.

Silently, I picked up my tray and stood up.

At that moment, another news report came from the TV.

[Next up! News regarding the massive earthquake that struck Busan the other day. The cause has finally been revealed, drawing significant attention. A super-high-level magical beast, a “Death Knight,” first observed during a dungeon break near the Western Pacific, made its way through Japan and was advancing toward Korea. It was stopped by the Swordmaster Cheok Junseong, who happened to be dispatched to Jeju Island. It was later revealed that this creature was rated A+, making the incident even more sensational. In an interview, Swordmaster Cheok Junseong stated that he fought the Death Knight for three days and three nights, engaging in a staggering 3,021 clashes, resulting in a draw. The Death Knight’s location after escaping the battle remains unknown…]

I stared at the TV, lost in thought.

Awakeners must have it good.

Awakeners.

People who, one day, without any warning, suddenly manifest superpowers.

Heroes who stand at the front lines, fending off dungeons and magical beasts that have begun to spill over from the otherworld.

Monsters of chaos and divine power.

They fly through the skies, part the seas, and move mountains.

They were beings on a level so far beyond comparison to rich kids with their billions.

Even just becoming a D-rank Awakener would mean never worrying about money for life, they say. Of course, even the lowest F-rank Awakeners have their own struggles…

Even so, online communities were constantly buzzing with debates like “Work at a small company vs. awaken as an F-rank hunter.”

No matter how tough it is, could it really be worse than an ordinary citizen like me?

Soon after, workers began gathering in front of the warehouse conveyor belts.

There would be no time for idle thoughts from now on.

“Safety first! Safety first! Safety first!”

Everyone gathered for the loading and unloading shouted the safety slogan “Safety First” three times, raising their hands.

It was a freezing cold evening.

The conveyor belts, which had been still, began to move slowly.

Goods flowed in along the belts.

I started hauling the cargo without a moment to catch my breath.

My breath grew heavy, and sweat poured down my back like rain.

Despite the cold weather, my work clothes were soon soaked with sweat.

This was why I never wore black shirts for loading and unloading.

Once the sweat dried, white salt stains would form around the chest and armpits, and, well, it just didn’t look good.

At that moment.

“Hey! Worker at Belt 5! Pick up the pace! Don’t let the cargo pile up!”

A supervisor in a red vest was yelling at me.

Nearby, a group of veteran workers, including Hong, were pointing at me and muttering something.

Saying I’m slow, that young people these days are a problem… probably just gossiping as usual.

I gulped down some instant coffee from a plastic bottle like it was a potion and kept hauling.

The sweat trickling between my lips made the coffee taste salty.

As I worked myself to the bone in a trance-like state…

“Hey! Watch out! You idiot! Cha Hasang! You moron!”

Suddenly, Hong’s cursing came from behind me.

At the same time.

Beeeep! Beeeeeeep!

The supervisor’s whistle pierced my ears.

…What?

I turned my head in a daze.

Then.

Creak… Creeeeeak…

A massive box, tilting slowly, came into view.

A heavy piece of cargo, at least two meters tall, was falling toward my head.

“…Oh.”

In that critical moment, my body wouldn’t move.

Yet my mind was strangely filled with other thoughts.

My body felt oddly stiff… and, even stranger, it was glowing brightly!

Huh? Glowing?

Yes.

Twinkle, twinkle—

I was glowing.

No way, could this be…?!

The most radiant moment of my life had arrived.

Right here, in the loading and unloading warehouse!

At that moment.

Ding-dong!

<World interference has begun!>

<You are syncing with a resident of the continent of Lokpia in the otherworld!>

A message appeared clearly in the center of my fading vision.

<You have awakened!>

It was the moment my life changed completely.

***

Shalalalalala—

It was as if a beautiful music box melody brushed past my ears.

At the same time, a blinding flash of light erupted.

Awakening. 

The radiance known as the light of awakening.

And then.

Boom! Crash!

The delivery box falling toward my head was torn to pieces, scattering in all directions.

“Is this a dream or reality?”

Before my eyes, a system window had appeared.

Ding-dong!

<You are syncing with a character from the continent of Lokpia in the otherworld!>

<1%… 3%… 8%… 16%… 31%…>

One day, our world began syncing with another.

A phenomenon known as “world interference.”

That other world was revealed to be a vast continent called Lokpia.

The problem was that during the syncing process, dangerous elements like dungeons and magical beasts began to transfer over.

Random times, random places.

Nothing could be predicted—not when, where, or what would appear.

And the birth of Awakeners was just as unpredictable.

Only a tiny fraction of people on Earth could sync with the residents of Lokpia, sharing their memories, abilities, and possessions.

Soon, the awakening messages continued to appear.

<You are from the continent of Lokpia…>

The process of awakening was already well-documented.

They said the first thing it tells you is the nationality of the person you’re syncing with.

Among countless nations, only a few held global dominance as superpowers.

This was true for Lokpia as well.

“Rozidia,” “Helhagrand,” “Rocinante.” 

The superpowers that ruled Lokpia.

I clasped my hands together and prayed fervently.

Please, a superpower! 

A famous nation! 

Any awesome nation! Just a strong one!

If the sync target was from a superpower, you were already halfway to success.

If you could choose your nationality at birth, how many would pick South Korea?

Most would probably choose a more prosperous or powerful nation.

Starting with countless advantages—why would anyone refuse?

At that moment, a new message appeared on the system window.

<You are from the nation of “Morgue” on the continent of Lokpia…>

Morgue? 

Is there even a nation like that over there?

The name on the system window was unfamiliar.

The thought that crossed my mind was, “I’m screwed.”

An unknown nation likely meant it was some insignificant, weak country.

Titles like “Rocinante’s Spear King,” “Helhagrand’s Swordmaster,” or “Rozidia’s Archmage” were now a distant dream.

But let’s think positively.

It’s fine! 

There’s still hope! 

The nation isn’t as important as the person! 

The key to awakening is who you sync with!

Superpowers naturally had a wealth of talented individuals.

But did that mean weaker nations had none? Of course not.

Even in a small nation, those who led the country were bound to be exceptional.

I failed the nation gacha, so let’s hit the jackpot with the character gacha! Please, God, Buddha, Jesus, Allah, Mary, Zoroaster, the heavens, Cthulhu, the sealed left arm, right arm, left leg, and right leg of Exodia! Please, please, please!

A Swordmaster? 

A Mage Tower Lord? 

A Fist King?

I didn’t dare hope for such grand figures.

Royalty or high nobility… no, that might be too greedy.

I’d be satisfied with just a regular noble.

If I could inherit even a fraction of a noble’s knowledge, skills, or wealth, I could live large in this world.

It doesn’t even have to be a noble. A “veteran knight,” a “skilled mage,” or at the very least, a “seasoned mercenary” would do…!

Whether it knew my desperation or not, the system window continued to display text.

<From the capital city of “Gobekli Tepe”…>

Oh, nice! It’s not some backwater village—it’s the capital!

Talented people naturally gravitated toward the capital.

In Korea, living in Seoul at least earned you some respect.

Didn’t foreigners assume that living in a country’s capital meant you were rich or had a good job?

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!

I calmed my racing heart and kept staring at the system window.

Soon, the remaining text began to appear one by one.

…Alright, goodbye forever, you wretched warehouse! I’m out of here!

And then.

Ding-dong!

Brilliant text appeared clearly on the system window.

<You have synced with the warehouse keeper “Morgue Mu Featherback”! Congratulations!>