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Join the ServerSeon Woo-min could never just walk past that spot.
He couldn’t leave Mung Bean behind, all alone.
The thought that the other warrior cats had probably sold out within an hour of release on the first day made it even harder.
Rooted to the spot like a statue, Woo-min checked his bank balance on his phone.
He calculated how long he could last until next payday if he bought this unexpected, considerably expensive figure.
There was still a week until payday.
With that much, he could easily survive on the leftover side dishes from his sister’s store.
Fine.
He reached his hand toward the Mung Bean figure box.
That very moment—
“Oh?!
Mung Bean’s still here?
I’ll buy this one, at least!”
Unfortunately, the shaggy-haired middle schooler next to him was faster.
The kid waved the box above his head like he’d caught a prize fish, and his friends responded with cheers mixed with jeers.
No…
Watching this with the expression of a defeated nation, Seon Woo-min muttered like a madman.
He quickly chased after the group as they surged toward the checkout counter.
It wasn’t even because they liked Mung Bean—it was the phrase “since Mung Bean’s the only one left” that rang bitterly in his ears.
“Excuse me.”
The group of middle schoolers lined up at the counter turned around in bewilderment.
Seon Woo-min smiled gently, as if to emphasize that he wasn’t some weirdo but a respectable member of society.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but would you consider letting me have that figure?”
“Huh?
This thing?”
The shaggy-haired boy clutched the figure box in both arms.
Peeking out from between his crossed arms, Mung Bean’s pale green grape-colored eyes looked at Woo-min pitifully.
“Why?
What do you want it for?”
“I want to buy it.”
“So why do you want to buy it?”
“Why?
Because I like Mung Bean, of course.”
“Aww~ But if that’s the case, I like Mung Bean too, you know?
Cherry’s my favorite, though.
Who’s your favorite?”
“……”
So you’re saying you want to buy the Mung Bean figure even though Cherry is your favorite?
Woo-min clenched his teeth quietly.
“Mung. Bean.
Mung Bean is my favorite.”
“You’re lying!”
“…I’m not lying.
Why would I, at my age, lie to a student?”
The fact that he was arguing with a middle schooler at nearly thirty years old should have made him cringe, but Seon Woo-min was more serious than ever.
He felt like he wanted to pull out his heart, completely occupied by Mung Bean, and show it to them.
“No way, this is mine.”
With a cheeky grin, the shaggy-haired boy defiantly placed the figure box on the counter.
The barcode was mercilessly scanned.
As the kid unhesitatingly handed over eight 100,000-won gift certificates, Woo-min sighed at the sight of Mung Bean’s sorrowful eyes peeking out from inside the paper bag, following him until the end.
Will Mung Bean ever be loved?
Will he get shoved into a corner of a drawer, overshadowed by Cherry’s other figures and merchandise?
Will he end up on the secondhand market for less than the retail price, let alone with a premium?
“Hey, open it up.”
“Where’s the Ruby Sword?”
The kids were opening the box right in front of the goods shop.
Seon Woo-min was horrified, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
It was unthinkable—you carefully take the seal off so even the box doesn’t get scratched when you bring it home to treasure, yet here they were on the street.
They didn’t even bother looking at the hologram sticker that authenticated it as official.
Woo-min felt dizzy, his head spinning.
Just as he was about to explain how to store figures properly, Seon Woo-min withdrew his outstretched hand and turned away.
There was nothing more he could do.
If he kept watching, it would only make his heart ache.
A man—Lee Do-kyung—had been watching Woo-min’s dispirited retreating figure until that moment.
He flicked the cigarette he’d been smoking to the ground.
The butt crushed under his sneaker was a Cloud Nine, the brand Seon Woo-min favored.
“Hmm.”
That Seon Woo-min had come to an anime goods shop, and that he was despairing over not being able to buy a figure—these were surprising and novel discoveries for Lee Do-kyung.
No matter how he thought about it, Woo-min didn’t seem like the type for anime.
Seon Woo-min was a man with the soul of a poet, after all.
“Hey, hey, hey, you little squirts.
Hold up.”
After spraying himself here and there with cologne from a portable container, Lee Do-kyung gestured to call over the group of shaggy-haired middle schoolers.
His friends, who had been smoking with him in the alley, were startled and stared at the uniformed students.
Exchanging bewildered glances that seemed to say, “What’s he doing now?” and “No idea.”
“When you were checking out just now, what did that guy say?”
“He, he said he wanted to buy it and asked us to give it up.
Said he was a Mung Bean fan…”
The shaggy-haired boy stammered, intimidated.
The silhouette of the man, backlit by a neon sign, swayed slowly, its shadow encroaching on his body.
“Yeah?”
Lee Do-kyung had overheard Seon Woo-min mention something about ‘Nokdu’ before, back then.
…I didn’t realize that ‘Nokdu’ was this Mung Bean.
I thought it was the mung bean for pancakes.
I’d been looking up restaurants that served mung bean pancakes for nothing.
More than that, the last place Seon Woo-min had gone before he died was the Invincible Power Kitty Corps OST concert.
When Do-kyung had come to this current world where Woo-min was alive, a month ago, he’d looked up the Kitty Corps on Namuwiki and had seen the name Mung Bean.
But he only just now learned that Seon Woo-min was a fan of that particular cat.
“Hmm…”
Why hadn’t Seon Woo-min ever told him that he liked the Invincible Power Kitty Corps or that he was a fan of a cat named Mung Bean?
Lee Do-kyung frowned, lost in thought.
His tongue licked the pierced lower lip, his blue-grey eyes fixed on a point in space.
To the shaggy-haired boy, he looked exactly like a quietly simmering thug.
Moreover, the friends gathered around Lee Do-kyung—with their flashy appearances as tattoo artists or motorcycle enthusiasts—didn’t look like ordinary people either.
The group of middle schoolers, without anyone leading them, huddled together in the corner of the alley.
“Um… so can we go now?”
The shaggy-haired boy, who had been using casual speech with Seon Woo-min, bowed his head and spoke politely to avoid crossing Lee Do-kyung.
Only then did Do-kyung’s gaze, which had been elsewhere, shift downward.
He had an expression that said, ‘Oh, you were here.’
“Hey.”
“Ye, yes?”
“I’ll give you money.”
“Huh?
You’re not taking it?”
“What are you talking about?
I’ve got plenty of money.
I’ll pay you double, so sell me that.”
“What?”
“You deaf?
Why do you keep saying ‘huh, huh’?”
“No.
G-go away.”
The shaggy-haired boy backed away, hugging the paper bag to his body.
Why were there so many people coveting Mung Bean today?
It was almost making him develop a fan heart he never had before.
“I’m absolutely not selling it.
And I don’t need your money!”
“Yes, you do.
You need money.”
“No, I don’t!
I’ve got plenty of money too.”
“Yeah.
But I guarantee I have more money.
Give me your account number.”
“You’re not even a Kitty Corps fan, Mister!”
“What?
Mis—”
Lee Do-kyung’s face hardened in an instant, and the shaggy-haired boy flinched.
Fearing he might get hit, he swallowed dryly, but the cool gaze that had approached right before his eyes slowly narrowed.
“Right, right.
I might look like an ‘ahjussi’ to you little squirts.
Yeah, that’s entirely possible.”
“…Fine, just let us go, hyung.”
“Take the money.
Then I’ll let you go, okay?
Don’t make me say it twice.
Give me your account number.”
“Ah, seriously!”
The guy was impossible to reason with.
From earlier, he’d been repeating the same line about calling out his account number, and muttering to himself.
He seemed a little unhinged, so it was clear he wouldn’t let them go quietly.
“Ha.
Just send it via KakaoTalk Pay.”
The shaggy-haired boy sighed and muttered.
From the fact that this had happened twice now, it seemed this Mung Bean figure was simply not meant to be his.
“Okay.
How much?”
“768,000 won.
You said you’d buy it for double, so… let’s call it an even 1.5 million won.”
“…Ha.
Well, I’ll be.”
Lee Do-kyung, who had been holding his phone ready to enter the amount, laughed in disbelief.
These days, kids might be full of themselves, but asking for 1.5 million won for a mere toy was something else.
“Bold.
Okay.
Nice try.”
“Huh?”
“Stop messing around and give me the real price this time.
Even though I look like this, hyung can get really scary when he’s angry, okay?”
Lee Do-kyung emphasized ‘hyung,’ but the shaggy-haired boy was exasperated for a different reason.
‘Even though I look like this’—was he under the impression he looked kind?
“You’re scary even when you’re not angry, okay?
And that price is right.
Look it up!
You don’t even know anything.”
The shaggy-haired boy fumed, pulling the figure box from the paper bag and shoving it in front of Lee Do-kyung’s eyes.
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