“No, seriously. How long does it take to open one lousy box?”
The irritated voice echoed through the appraisal room, drawing the gazes of everyone nearby.
The middle-aged man seated in the client’s chair tapped the table with visible impatience. In front of him sat an old metal box roughly the size of two grown men’s fists put together.
Across the table, the appraiser was sweating profusely as he made excuses.
“I’m sorry. I pushed quite a bit of mana into it, but there’s been no response at all. It seems the mana circuit around the locking mechanism is tangled.”
“Then shouldn’t you use a skill or run it through a machine or something? I paid good money for this request, and it’s already been two hours. What is this?”
“Even our senior appraisers took turns trying with their skills. We also ran it through the machine three times just now.”
With a troubled expression, the appraiser pointed to the monitor.
In the center of the screen, red letters were blinking clearly.
[Unidentified Storage Box / Appraisal Failed]
“Haa. It was sitting in the corner of an old dungeon storeroom covered in dust, so I thought it might be worth something.”
The client clicked his tongue and glared at the metal box.
Its surface was so rusted that it was difficult to tell what color it had originally been. A shallow pattern of some kind was carved into the lid, but even that had been worn down and blurred.
No matter how one looked at it, it seemed like something that belonged in a scrapyard.
The appraiser asked carefully, “Since the item is so old, it seems the mana circuit itself may have died. Should we put it through the precision equipment one more time?”
“Forget it. Just hearing that machine gives me a headache. What’s the point of clinging to something that won’t open?”
“Then how would you like us to handle this item? Since it belongs to you, we can return it as is, if you wish.”
“You want me to carry this heavy chunk of scrap metal onto the subway? I’m already irritated enough after wasting my time today. Just throw it away here. It looks like trash anyway, and dealing with it is a hassle.”
The client waved his hand dismissively and prepared to get up.
The appraiser sighed and picked up the file containing the list of items scheduled for disposal.
It was right then.
“May I take a quick look at it?”
Taehu, who had walked over from the direction of the break room, approached the table.
He set down the file he had been carrying and stared intently at the old metal box.
The appraiser tilted his head.
“Hunter Hwang Taehu? Even the seniors have already given up on this item. The machine appraisal failed too.”
“I know. I was just curious about what it looks like.”
Taehu answered calmly and removed his glove.
Then, without hesitation, he placed his bare hand on the surface of the box.
The instant his fingertips touched the cold, rough metal, golden text that ordinary appraisers could never see quickly appeared over Taehu’s retinas.
[Sealed Alchemist’s Storage Box]
-Condition: Sealed.
-Classification: Special storage equipment.
-Contents: Rare alchemy materials. Details can be confirmed after unsealing.
The corners of Taehu’s eyes twitched faintly.
An alchemist’s storage box?
Alchemy materials were always in high demand in the hunter market. The higher the grade, the more sellers could name their price, and rare materials were difficult to obtain even if one came prepared with money.
Suppressing an inward cheer, he continued reading the next text.
[Unsealing Conditions]
-When external mana is injected, the locking mechanism temporarily hardens.
-Stop injecting mana and submerge in pure water for at least 3 hours.
No wonder.
Taehu swallowed a laugh inwardly, dumbfounded.
The appraisal office’s appraisers had taken turns shoving mana into the box in an effort to open it. The machine also worked by forcibly firing mana waves to analyze the internal structure.
In other words, the more they touched it, the more firmly the box locked itself shut. They had caused all sorts of commotion over an item that would open if it were simply left soaking in clear water. Of course it would not open.
When Taehu pulled his hand away, the golden text slowly scattered.
He calmly suppressed his rising anticipation and tapped the box a few times.
“The locking mechanism really has hardened completely. If you wanted to force it open, you’d probably have to bring in an oxy-fuel torch and tear the whole thing apart.”
“See? I told you it was just scrap metal. What a waste of my time.”
The client grumbled as he put on his coat.
Just as the appraiser was about to write it down on the disposal list, Taehu suddenly spoke up.
“Sir. If you’re going to throw this away, why don’t you sell it to me?”
The client froze.
The appraiser holding the pen also looked at Taehu as if he could not believe what he had just heard.
“This thing? Didn’t you just say yourself that it would have to be torn open?”
“I’m not interested in the contents either. I just like the outer shell.”
With a shameless expression, Taehu pointed at the worn-down pattern on the box.
“I personally enjoy collecting old ornaments and antiques like this. I think it would look pretty decent displayed at home. If you’re going to throw it away anyway, I’ll buy it.”
The client looked back and forth between Taehu and the box with suspicion in his eyes.
“Is this thing actually worth money or something? You said the appraisal failed earlier.”
“If it were worth money, we would have calculated the settlement for you after deducting our fee. You saw with your own eyes just now that even the machine failed to appraise it, didn’t you?”
At Taehu’s straightforward answer, the client’s eyes wavered.
It was true that every employee in the appraisal room had been struggling with the box since earlier, yet the result had been a complete failure. He himself had already concluded that it was trash and had been about to throw it away.
“Well, if you insist on buying it, I won’t stop you. How much will you give me for it?”
“I’ll give you 1.5 million won.”
“1.5 million won?”
The client’s voice cracked and shot upward.
It was junk that had been destined for the scrap bin. He had even asked the appraisal office to throw it away because the transportation cost felt like a waste, yet suddenly, it had become worth 1.5 million won.
“Think of it as saving the disposal fee and getting plenty of travel money on top. If you don’t like it, we can just dispose of it as originally planned.”
Taehu made a show of backing off and turned his head toward the appraiser.
The client, suddenly anxious, reached out across the table.
“No! I’ll sell it. I was going to throw it away anyway, so if you’re offering 1.5 million won, I’m grateful.”
“A wise decision.”
Taehu smiled faintly and took his phone from his pocket.
Right there, he pulled up a familiar sales contract form and held it out to the client. As if afraid Taehu might change his mind, the client quickly completed the electronic signature.
Beep.
With a short vibration, 1.5 million won left Taehu’s account, and a deposit notification rang on the client’s phone.
“Confirmed. Well then, good luck.”
The client left the appraisal room, the corners of his mouth twitching with joy at having unexpectedly gained a tidy sum.
Watching him go, a fellow appraiser looked at Taehu in disbelief.
“Hunter Hwang. Do you have money to burn? You paid 1.5 million won for that chunk of scrap metal?”
“I told you, collecting antiques is my hobby. Once I clean it and wipe off the dust, it’ll look decent enough.”
“You really do have unusual taste.”
The colleague shook his head and left to check another client’s item.
Left alone, Taehu looked down at the old box on the table.
Others might laugh at it as a 1.5-million-won piece of scrap metal, but in his eyes, it looked completely different.
An alchemist’s storage box that would open after he stopped injecting mana and soaked it in water for just three hours. He had obtained, at a legitimate price, an unidentified storage box that no one else had been able to open. Once the rare materials sleeping inside were released onto the market, there was no telling how many zeroes would be added to that 1.5 million won.
Taehu hummed to himself as he lifted the box.
Despite its appearance, a fairly substantial weight traveled through his fingertips.
He walked over to his personal locker, opened his bag, and carefully placed the box inside. Once he zipped it shut, a smile naturally spread across his face.
“I guess I’ll have to wash out a big rubber basin after work today.”
Recalling the perfect opening method engraved in his mind, Taehu returned to his appraisal table with light steps.