Chapter 10. What’s Going On with the Neighbor? (1)

The LV33 mosquito and the LV69 red mage had been pretty strong opponents—but if it weren’t inside this cramped one-room apartment, I’d have had total confidence.

“This… this is definitely the Buddha’s Palm.”

While recovering from burns and witnessing miracles like my rice cooker talking, I was slowly learning how to use the status window interface.

At first it was confusing, but as I imagined “clicking” in midair, I got used to the system more and more.

The downward strike is always stronger than an upward strike, so the more force I put down, the power multiplies.

Yeah, this is the Buddha’s Palm technique.

I didn’t even use it seriously, worried I might break something, yet it still had enough power to smash walls or leave craters in the ground.

If I’d gone all in with it, I probably could’ve killed the red mage in a single blow.

The problem is… this one-room would’ve been obliterated too.

“Anyway, one way or another… I need money.”

My lease here lasts until February next year.

I’ve already made up my mind about this gate.

It’s a headache, sure—but it benefits me.

<Burn Treatment Medicine>
<Gold Coins>
<Gold Bars>
<Meteor Iron>
<Thousand-Year Tree Root>

The burn medicine—I’m basically doing clinical trials on desperate people.

The gold—well, the unit price is nothing to scoff at, even in small amounts.

I could probably set up a company around placer mining or extracting gold from computer parts, then sell it legally if I wanted.

<Rice Cooker Spirit>
<Fairy-Growing Flowerpot>

The ego-ricecooker makes heavenly rice like nothing I’ve ever tasted.

Since I’m near Daehak-ro, not on the main boulevard but tucked behind the one-rooms with cheap rent, I wondered:
Should I open a shop and sell rice burgers? Or maybe an onigiri shop?

The fairy flowerpot is… kind of healing, actually.

“I love you.”

Its little twin-leaf sprout waves make me smile without reason.

<Flight LV1>
<Inextinguishable Flame – Deactivated>
<Strength of Strength LV50>
<Mutation Factor LV1>
<Trap Hunting LV10>

These are traits I gained from killing the Mutation King, the level-up mosquito, and the red mage.

I don’t know the exact rules for acquiring skills, but according to Ricecooker Man, you get them randomly from defeated opponents.

Apparently, I can equip up to ten traits—but for now, I’ve filled five slots.

<Enhanced Towel>
<Enhanced Fly Swatter>
<Enhanced Electric Fan>

These are the loot.

The enhanced towel has some defense buff—it told me to wear it like a scarf.

“….”

I looked in the mirror. Didn’t say it aloud, but honestly, why do I look more and more like some middle-aged man?

The enhanced fan, though—

<Cold Breeze LV1>

It has a “Cold Breeze” skill, so I turned it on.

It cooled the entire room enough that I don’t even need the AC.

Since the always-on rice cooker already eats a ton of electricity, being able to ditch the wall-mounted AC in summer means big savings.

“I seriously need to buy this one-room.”

About 50cm across from the double outlet by my bed, and floating about 25cm vertically into the air, sits the gate.

Not just as a source of income—I can feel it. This could lead to a life different from everyone else’s.

When I fought the red mage, I was laughing like a maniac. It was that fun.

So, obviously, I deserve ownership of this space.

Whether I break the building apart, smash it, or wreck it, I need that gate.

Which means I need ownership of this one-room building and the land it sits on.

“And that means… I need about 800 million won.”

…And here’s where I hit the wall.

I plan to run a business by selling the gold, medicines, and foods produced from the gate.

But the thing is—I have to do it from here.

This room is basically rented ground.

Sure, as long as I pay rent, no problem. But what if I get kicked out?

Then I’d have to abandon all the resources pouring from this gate.

Already, I’ve thrown away the dreams and major I studied for 26 years, not so easily picking them back up.

So I treat this one-room like it’s already mine—renewing the lease, paying whatever rent they demand, cherishing it like a house I own.

That might be enough.

But there’s a problem.

“What the hell, why so much luggage? She’s moving in right before the semester starts, in this August heat?”

“Hey, it’s hot, that’s why I moved in. They’ve got AC here. You didn’t even let me use yours, Mom.”

“You shut your door all day long. Can’t you at least come out in the summer, sit in the living room, eat watermelon together?”

‘It’s over’

So the neighbor is moving in.

Who’s this girl, moving in already?

She said she’s returning to school next semester. Wouldn’t it make more sense to move in right before it starts?

Of course, some students do return home during break and stay there comfortably.

Others, after a quick visit and some scolding from parents, come back to Daehak-ro to hang with friends before term starts.

But she’s just moving in right now?

“Something about inverters—they say if you leave it on, it actually saves electricity. But you keep turning it off, whining that it’s cold.”

“Have you ever paid an electric bill yourself?”

The girl’s mom is clearly helping with the move. And wow—the walls here have zero soundproofing. I can hear everything.

“…This could be bad.”

I live in Unit 203.
These one-rooms are packed tightly, so I’m between 202 and 204.

204 already has a tenant.

Through the wall with my computer, desk, and AC, I can hear that guy.

Seems like he’s half-cohabiting with a Japanese girlfriend—because the familiar Japanese words I hear are… yeah.

So I played the sound of a blonde foreign girl moaning in English—“Oh, shit, fuck”—like an animal, to fight fire with fire.

Things got quieter.

So no, it’s not floor-noise—it’s wall-noise. Normally, unless you’re blasting that kind of sound, nothing really carries through.

The real problem is the new tenant, 202.

Right now, mother and daughter are already raising their voices in the summer heat while moving in.

Maybe it’s just that their higher-pitched voices carry further. Or maybe it’s because their door’s open as they lug stuff inside.

“Didn’t I say you don’t have to help? The place already has everything anyway.”

“Then what’s this flat iron? And how many times do I have to tell you to bring your rosary?”

“Ugh, I told you, I’m not carrying a rosary around.”

…Meanwhile, I’m sweating bullets.

I patched up a busted wall here. Maybe I didn’t seal it right?

Gypsum’s supposed to block sound transfer…

I told myself I’d live with guilt and conscience, but honestly—when you’ve got a treasure stash hidden inside, nerves are natural.

Maybe it’s just because the door is open while they’re talking?

I peeked out.

And then—the mother and daughter at room 202 spotted me.

“Oh! Oh my, hello!”

Thank god. They were fighting in the hallway with the door open.

The young woman wasn’t visible, but her mother turned at the sound of my door and greeted me.

“Uh, hello.”

“Sorry! We were being loud, huh?”

“Oh, not at all.”

I tried to sound casual, not like I’d opened the door just because of the noise.

Pretending I was heading out, I grabbed my wallet and stepped into the hall.

The mother immediately struck up conversation.

“Sorry again. It’s moving day. My daughter, you know…”

“Mom!”

“Quiet, you. I came to help, and all you do is argue. Oh, and—young man?”

“…Yes?”

“Sorry to ask, but could you bring up some bottled water and rice from the trunk in the parking lot? We left it open.”

“What? Are you crazy? Why are you asking a stranger to do that?”

“Oh, hohoho. He looks strong and tall, doesn’t he? Handsome, too. My daughter shouldn’t be hauling rice sacks by herself. Come on, lend a hand.”

Older ladies really are pros at fake compliments.

Normally I’d just say, “Sorry, I’m busy,” and walk off.

But since 202 will be my wall-neighbor—and given my guilty conscience about the noise—I felt obligated.

And besides, I’d leveled up my strength stat anyway.

“Ugh, I don’t even eat rice that much… Oh, wait—hey, it’s fine, you don’t have to! Really!”

A girl rushed out of 202—short shorts, a loose T-shirt, sharp eyes.

Didn’t get a close look, but she was pretty cute.

Light summer clothes, nothing flashy, but her clear skin stood out—and the rosary bracelet on her wrist stuck in my memory.

“Aigoo, she never listens.”

…Sounded just like my own mom. Hard to laugh.

“Haha…”

“See? I just wanted her to eat properly. Bought rice, water too, so she doesn’t rely on delivery all the time. But she yelled that I bought too much, that she doesn’t need it, that I should’ve just brought side dishes instead…”

“Ah, I see…”

Mothers and daughters. Classic.

Then the 202 girl came back with a 20kg rice sack on her shoulder.

“Seriously, who even eats this much rice these days?”

Immature. Rice is great.

She lifted it, but her thin frame looked too frail. I offered:

“Want me to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I got it.”

She seemed wary of strangers.

“Alright then.”

Her mother added, “Anyway, nice to meet you. Please take care of her.”

“Ah, sure.”

In times like these, you should be asking the landlord for help, not random neighbors.

But I just nodded silently. Parents worry too much anyway.

***

Later that night—

“What the hell… don’t tell me we’ve got a ghost girl now?”

I woke up thinking some weeping female ghost had crawled out of the gate.

But Ricecooker Man, who was on night watch, was calm as ever.

[You’re awake? All clear!]

“All clear? You don’t hear that?”

[I do!]

…So cheerful.

“Where from?”

[From those posters. The guys in your bromides are making the sound.]

…The posters are crying?

Even if their singing voices go high, they don’t sob like that. Creepy.

But it was definitely coming from that wall.

“…Mommy… hic… Mom…”

I’d heard of cats meowing like babies—but who the hell cries like a child like this?

The neighbor girl?

No way she’s bawling just from being separated from her mom.

Judging from their arguments earlier, it didn’t seem like that…