Chapter 401

Chapter 401

When Zeon picked up the charm, a faint jolt ran through his fingertips—there was something off about it.

“This is the charm that’s supposed to bring good luck?”

“Yeah! They say if you stick it on a wall at home, the Four Guardian Spirits will bless you. So, what do you think? Interested?”

“Do you remember who sold it to you?”

“Looked to be in his fifties. Had a big burn on his cheek. Why?”

“No reason. I’ll take it. How much?”

“Just a hundred sol.”

“Are you crazy? You want a hundred sol for this scrap of paper?”

“Hey, hey! It’s a charm that brings good luck, you know. Don’t want it? Then walk away.”

“Gladly.”

Zeon set the charm bundle down without a second thought and stood up. The vendor’s expression changed immediately.

“Whoa now! Why so impatient? You just gonna walk off like that?”

“I don’t have time for games.”

“Alright, alright—eighty sol.”

“Seriously… this guy…”

“Seventy. No—fine. I’ll be generous. Sixty sol. That’s as low as I go. Any lower and I’m losing money. Don’t want it? Then walk.”

“Sixty sol? Deal.”

“Wait—seventy…”

“You gonna keep dragging this out? I’ll walk.”

“No, no—sixty sol. Okay!”

Zeon pulled out sixty sol from his inner pocket and paid.

The vendor let out a long sigh.

“Man, haven’t had a tightwad like you in a while. Not making a damn thing off this!”

“Please. You probably still made double what you paid. Don’t act like you’re getting robbed.”

Zeon replied with a faint smirk.

No doubt, whoever brought in this charm sold it to the vendor for practically nothing. That’s how the black market worked.

They swindled both buyers and sellers.

In this place, if you got tricked, you were just an idiot.

Zeon had said “double,” but in truth, the vendor had likely made much more than that. He was sure of it.

Still, Zeon settled at sixty sol because it was a fair spot—enough that the seller wouldn’t feel cheated, but not so high that he himself was being fleeced.

As Zeon expected, the vendor gave him a grin.

“Thought you were a sucker, but you’ve got some bite. Heh heh!”

“Then I’m sure you’ll keep milking suckers with everything you’ve got.”

“Damn right. Take care now.”

The vendor waved him off, clearly done with the conversation.

Zeon smiled and walked away from the stall.

Once he’d put some distance between himself and the vendor, he looked down at the charm in his hand.

Crackle! Zzzzt!

Tiny, invisible sparks flickered at his fingertips.

It didn’t hurt—just a slight tingle—but the sensation was unpleasant.

The vendor likely hadn’t sensed anything, being a regular human. But for someone like Zeon—an awakened with sharp sensitivity—the charm gave off a distinctly foul energy.

“This isn’t a charm for good luck… It’s a curse.”

Zeon couldn’t read the strange characters written on the charm, but he didn’t need to.

He could feel the tainted mana laced through each brushstroke.

He wasn’t sure how the letters had been imbued with mana, but there was no doubt: the longer someone held on to this charm, the worse it would affect them.

More importantly, Zeon had never seen charms like this in Neo Seoul before.

If they’d been used here, they surely would’ve shown up at the Goblin Market.

The fact that even the Goblin Market hadn’t seen these meant the item had come from outside the city.

The most likely suspects were the Wolf Fang Unit.

They were from Geoseong and didn’t have any of Neo Seoul’s currency. So naturally, they would’ve tried to raise funds by selling what they had.

They wouldn’t have parted with anything valuable—but they might’ve tested the market with cheap junk to gauge the exchange rate.

That was why Zeon had bothered buying the ominous charm in the first place.

He pulled one of the slips from the bundle and channeled mana into it.

Crackle! Crackle!

The charm sparked more violently, as if it were resisting.

Zeon closed his eyes and pushed in more mana.

Fwoosh!

Suddenly, the charm burst into flame—releasing a torrent of foul energy in one final act of defiance.

The cursed mana that had been sealed in the writing unraveled like threads of darkness.

“Well, what do we have here…”

Zeon’s expression twisted with disbelief.

He could feel the aura of depression, hatred, and rage in the mana.

He had once killed the Grim Reaper and taken the Scythe of Death.

The scythe was a vessel of concentrated curses.

Though he’d avoided using it due to its backlash, Zeon had wielded it enough times to understand how curses worked—to sense and distinguish their types.

“Hold on to this long enough, and you’d spiral into depression and eventually kill yourself. What a sick joke.”

Zeon tested the remaining charms one by one, infusing them with mana.

Every single one of them was cursed.

The type of curse varied slightly, but all had the same effect: they damaged the user’s spirit over time.

Fwoosh!

The bundle of charms turned to dust in his hands.

Zeon brushed his palms clean and scanned the rest of the black market.

Something told him that this charm wasn’t the only thing the seller had left behind.

He began inspecting the other stalls.

By the time the sun began to set, Zeon had swept through the entire market.

In his hands were over a dozen cursed items.

All gave off the same ominous aura as the charms.

And according to the various shopkeepers, they had all been sold by the same man.

The items varied: necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings.

Different in form, but the patterns and writing etched into them matched the charms exactly.

And just like before, each vendor had been told that the items brought luck.

It was a blatant lie. But they believed it—because the moment they touched the items, they felt overwhelming happiness.

The euphoria had momentarily clouded their minds, making them buy the objects without hesitation.

Even so, the black market merchants hadn’t forgotten their instincts—they’d still haggled the prices ruthlessly.

It was a situation where both buyer and seller had tricked each other.

Zeon let out a quiet sigh as he looked at the cursed items he’d collected.

Seeing them, he could sense the seller’s intent.

“Is he getting a kick out of toying with people?”

Every single item was designed to harm its user.

Sure, they brought fleeting joy—but the longer one kept them, the more they gnawed away at the soul.

“This world already has more than enough lunatics… and now we’ve got a proper madman in the mix.”

Zeon clicked his tongue and scanned the market again.

There was no telling how many of these cursed items had made it into circulation.

Some were likely still out there—perhaps even already sold and in someone’s possession.

How many victims were there now? Zeon didn’t know.

But one thing was clear: whoever sold these items had now secured enough money to sustain themselves in the slums.

Which meant it would be even harder to find them now.

They could just buy what they needed and hide in some quiet corner.

Based on the situation, it seemed that the same person who had sold these cursed items was also the one who tampered with the Goblin Market’s barrier to let in Ma Gwangryang.

If they had the skill to make these artifacts, then hacking the market’s defenses probably wasn’t that difficult either.

“Tsk.”

Zeon clicked his tongue.

He’d just stumbled upon a truly troublesome foe.

He’d rather go up against an overwhelming opponent with brute force. At least then, he could meet power with power.

But these types—who moved in secret and struck from the shadows—they were the worst kind.

Unpredictable, always waiting to stab you in the back.

“Jang Woo-hang’s the real problem. Who knows what kind of tricks he’ll pull while hiding behind Xiao Lun.”

Of course, Xiao Lun himself wasn’t easy to deal with.

He was clever, and powerful enough to rule his district with an iron grip.

But no matter how sharp you were, it was never easy to guard against a knife in the back.

“This is turning into a real mess. Just have to hope Xiao Lun doesn’t end up being manipulated.”

Zeon shook his head and left the black market.

＊＊＊

Xiao Lun stared at the Yue King Goujian Sword resting on the table.

A simple, straight blade.

Ancient characters carved along the sword’s body.

A rounded hilt, inlaid with a blue gemstone.

It was made of nothing more than bronze.

In terms of hardness, it couldn’t compare to modern weapons.

If this were the original Yue King’s sword, it would’ve shattered the moment it clashed with a contemporary blade.

But this version—itemized during the Great Collapse—possessed durability far beyond reason.

As a test, they had struck it against a sword forged by one of Neo Seoul’s master smiths. That sword had been sliced clean through, like paper.

Even the smith who made it, a craftsman from the Southern District, had been left speechless at the result.

“A sword for the one who rules the era…”

Xiao Lun unconsciously repeated the words Jang Woo-hang had said.

The more he mulled them over, the more he liked how they sounded.

And with that, his mood lifted even more.

He found himself growing fond of Jang Woo-hang, who had offered him such a precious gift.

Originally, he’d brought him in just because they were from the same hometown. But to think he’d present a treasure like this…

The more he thought about it, the more Jang Woo-hang pleased him.

“How commendable. I should take extra care of him.”

Of course, he had no intention of granting him access to the city hall’s core facilities. That would be too much even for Xiao Lun.

But offering him some lesser benefits as a show of favor? That would more than satisfy Woo-hang.

Smiling faintly, Xiao Lun looked down at the Yue King Sword.

Vrrrrrrrm…

As if it understood his thoughts, the sword let out a soft hum.

Hearing the sword’s voice for the first time, Xiao Lun burst into a hearty laugh.

“Haha! They say legendary blades choose their masters—seems it’s true. To think such a treasure existed in Geoseong…”

Xiao Lun reached out and took hold of the Yue King Sword.

The moment it settled into his hand, the sword cried out again—louder, stronger.

As if recognizing Xiao Lun as its rightful master.

Xiao Lun gripped it tighter.

“A ruler of the era… Yes, I’m the only one in Neo Seoul fit for that title. Jin Geum-ho? That old man’s nothing. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time—he’s not fit to usher in a new era. No… only I have the qualifications. Only I deserve to be the ruler of this era.”

He muttered, as if in a trance.

＊＊＊

Jang Woo-hang was walking alone through the Southern District’s early morning streets.

In the days since his arrival, he’d toured not only the Southern District but the entirety of Neo Seoul.

And he had been stunned. Amazed. Jealous beyond words.

Every zone was orderly. Spotless.

Not a single piece of trash on the roads. The air was clean, crisp enough to taste.

“So envious! Truly… envious!”

The emotion rising on his face was unmistakable—jealousy.

He wanted his people, back in their homeland, to experience this kind of life.

He walked with purpose, eventually arriving at Neo Seoul’s main gate.

Armed awakened stood guard, heavily armored and watchful.

No one—awakened or otherwise—passed through without proper screening.

Outside the gate, a line had already formed. People stood waiting for their chance to enter the city.

Neo Seoul’s gates opened precisely at 6 a.m.

Everyone outside was simply waiting for the clock to strike six.

When it finally did, the gates swung open—and the crowd began to flow in.

The guards checked IDs meticulously.

They inspected identification, scanned them for forgeries, and conducted several layers of screening.

Only those who passed were allowed entry into Neo Seoul.

Jang Woo-hang leaned against a pillar near the gate, silently watching people come in.

He stood there for quite some time, growing mildly bored, when a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

As the newly admitted individuals trickled into the city, they began clustering—moving as one, as if they were a group.

They wore unfamiliar clothing and had unfamiliar faces. But Jang Woo-hang recognized them immediately.

He had Qi Sense.

He burst into laughter as he approached them.

“Hahaha!”

“Woo-hang!”

“Captain!”

They, too, beamed at the sight of him.

It was a reunion with the Wolf Fang Unit.