"I never imagined I'd walk home this scared..." Kyara muttered, arms tightly wrapped around the void bag as if it might vanish. The streets were quiet now, shadows stretching long across the pavement. She glanced over her shoulder every few seconds, as if some dungeon creature might have followed her out.
Her fingers clutched the strap tighter. The bag was warm—still humming faintly from the mana-rich items within.
Finally… she thought, as she reached the familiar rusted gate.
"Home sweet home."
Kyara lived in a modest apartment building—a five-story complex with no elevator, only worn-down stairs hugged by handrails that had seen better days. Four units per floor, and hers was on the third floor, door number two.
The stairwell was clean, smelling faintly of lemon detergent. The residents took turns cleaning it. Today must've been Mr. Noori's turn—he always added extra vinegar to the mop water.
Kreeek.
The door creaked open louder than usual. Her apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
"Kyara?" a soft voice called out from behind.
"AAAAH!"
She jumped, nearly colliding with the wall, and spun around. Her elderly neighbor, Marian, stood there with a tiny white dog in her arms, pink bow bouncing with each movement.
"Oh, did I startle you, dear?" Marian asked kindly.
Kyara laughed nervously, still winded. "No—no, Aunty Marian, I'm just a bit… shaken. Not feeling too well today, that's all."
Marian's brow wrinkled with concern. "Oh no, poor girl. Were you caught up in something dreadful?"
Kyara hesitated. "Actually… was there a dungeon rift announcement today? One of those random ones?"
Marian blinked. "A dungeon rift? I don't believe so, dear. Nothing on the news or in the building group chat."
Kyara forced a small smile. "Right. Just… wondering. Thanks. I'll get some rest."
As she turned, Marian called out again, "Rest well, sweetheart!"
Click.
The door closed behind her.
Kyara leaned her forehead against it for a second, breathing slowly.
I can't believe this…
She dropped to her knees and opened the void bag.
The moment the flap parted, a soft glow spilled out—enchanted flowers, shimmering herbs, silver-edged mushrooms, and sparkling potion fruits. She pulled out each item carefully, spreading them across her apartment floor like a merchant at a black-market auction.
"…I'm rich."
A beat passed, and then she burst out laughing, hands in her hair.
"I'm gonna be rich!"
---
The next morning arrived far too quickly.
Kyara dressed with a dazed expression, practically sleepwalking through her morning routine. The void bag sat in the corner of her room, now zipped and locked.
Act normal, she reminded herself.
She arrived at work looking like she hadn't slept—which, technically, she hadn't. Her coworker Jin, the bubbly intern at the front desk, immediately tilted his head.
"You good, Kyara? You look like you saw a ghost."
"Just tired," she said quickly. "Rough night."
Jin gave her a suspicious side-eye. "You keep glancing at your bag like it's gonna run away. You hiding a raccoon in there?"
She smiled awkwardly and walked away.
All morning, she jumped at loud sounds, avoided eye contact, and kept her hand on her bag like a paranoid treasure goblin.
By lunch break, she fled to the convenience store next to the office.
She scanned the aisles in a daze, grabbing bread and milk without looking.
Just as she was about to head to the counter, her phone buzzed. A message.
[Aunty Rina]: "After work, come to the address I sent you. Don't ask. Just come."
A second later, the phone rang.
Kyara picked up. "Aunty?"
"Hi, sweetie! Did you get my message?"
"Uh, yeah. What's going on?"
"A surprise, of course. You're going to love it. Come right after work, okay?"
"Okay…"
"And don't be late!"
She hung up.
Kyara blinked at her phone. "Why do I feel like I'm being ambushed with a wedding proposal?"
---
After a hellish afternoon, things somehow got worse.
Her team leader—an arrogant man named Mr. Gwan—decided to dock her for being one minute late after lunch.
"One minute late is one less point on your performance report," he sneered.
She clenched her fists. "You're seriously punishing me for sixty seconds?"
"Rules are rules."
"Well, then I'll just go talk to HR about how you clock in fifteen minutes late every Monday with a breakfast bag in your hand."
He flinched. "You wouldn't."
"I would."
The stare-down lasted ten seconds.
"…Fine. But don't make a habit of it."
Victory never tasted so bitter.
---
After work, Kyara followed the GPS to a quiet side street lined with old buildings and faded shop signs. One building stood out—renovated, fresh, with a warm wooden sign above the door that read: "Whispering Pages."
She stepped inside.
Books. Shelves upon shelves. A reading nook by the window. Soft lights glowing like fireflies. The air smelled like paper and lavender.
"Aunty?" Kyara called out.
From behind the desk, her aunt Rina emerged—stylish, sharp-eyed, and holding a manila envelope.
"Surprise!"
Kyara blinked. "You… opened a bookstore?"
"No," Rina said with a grin. "You did."
She handed over the envelope.
Kyara opened it slowly. Inside were notarized documents, a deed, and a legal transfer statement.
"I, Rina Cho, hereby transfer full ownership of Whispering Pages Bookstore to Kyara Cho out of love and appreciation."
Kyara stared. "You're… giving this to me?"
Rina smiled. "I thought you could use a fresh start. Away from corporate nightmares. A place of your own."
Tears pricked at her eyes.
"This is… perfect."
"The bookstore has over 400 books. Cozy reading area. All yours. And the best part? Upstairs—there's a little loft. It's small, but fully renovated. Kitchen, bed, desk. You can live there."
Kyara walked up the stairs. The second floor was modest but beautiful. Sunlight filtered through a high window. A new life.
She returned downstairs, stunned.
"This… this is mine?"
Rina nodded. "Yours."
Kyara looked at the shelves, the soft couch, the wooden floor warmed by a tiny heater.
She smiled.
"This… this is going to be the start of something amazing."