By the time the fourth hour rolled around, Yujin had officially surrendered.
Her choices were clear:
Option A: Stay inside and risk another "penalty." Which could be anything from cramps to god knows what.(Last time, it felt like an electric shock down her legs and thighs.)
Option B: Step outside for five seconds, trick the system, and retreat back into the shadows.
Naturally, she picked Option B.
Throwing on an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, she grabbed her wallet and phone and stomped out of her apartment.
"I'm outside. Happy?" she muttered.
Ding!
The system responded with its usual unintentional smug cheer:
[Mission Update: Physical exit detected. However, exposure to high-end environments is required to increase encounter probability. Please proceed to a qualifying location.]
Yujin squinted at the screen. "Qualifying what now?"
[Tip: Try upscale lounges, hotel lobbies, rooftop bars, or luxury boutiques.]
Yujin froze.
"…Excuse me?"
Her eyes twitched.
"Oh, great," she muttered. "So now I have to walk into a Gucci store or something?"
She stared down the hallway, hoodie hood up, soul deflating. This system didn't just want her outside—it wanted her humiliated.
[You have 4 hours and 15 minutes left.]
Her heart sank.
A high-end location? Within the next four hours?
There was no way. She didn't even know where rich people hung out around here.
How was she supposed to know where potential billionaires lounged or where money casually changed hands over sparkling water and avocado toast?
This wasn't her world—it never had been. And yet, somehow, the system had pulled her into its twisted little challenge.
Now, she found herself weirdly engrossed. Curious, even. Her earlier logic—this isn't normal, this isn't real—had quietly slipped out the back door.
She pondered. The only person who'd have a clue about these kinds of places was Soe—Mina's friend—or maybe Mina herself. Yujin had enough trouble trying to keep her life together, let alone knowing where the city's elite liked to burn their money.
…Right?
Unless—
A memory stirred. Mina had mentioned a new café last week—something trendy downtown with velvet seats, expensive coffee, and pastries that looked better than they tasted. The kind of place that had a dedicated aesthetic on social media and people who carried business cards like they were currency handing out business cards like they were candy.
She didn't want to go. Every fiber of her screamed don't.
But the timer kept ticking. And despite everything, a tiny part of her wondered…
What if this really did lead to something—anything? Even if it was insane.
The system sure as hell wasn't bluffing about that penalty.
Yujin sprinted through the station, heart pounding like a war drum.
Her destination: a luxury café five subway stops away.
She'd never dared enter it before—rumor had it a single drink there cost half her rent. and if this ridiculous system wanted "high-end," then that's what it would get. But desperate times called for desperate scams.
Step 1: Walk in like she belonged.
Step 2: Order the cheapest item on the menu.
Step 3: Sit, wait, and pray that this was enough to fool the system. Survival-level humiliation as mission completion.
When she arrived, the exterior alone made her hesitate. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Soft jazz seeping through invisible speakers. The glow of chandeliers spilling golden light onto velvet seats and marble counters. It didn't look like a café. It looked like the kind of place that charged for a photoshoot.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and marched in like she was reviewing it for a food blog.
Yujin gulped.
"I belong here. I belong here." She repeated it like a prayer.
Approaching the counter, she scanned the menu and nearly had a heart attack. Everything was written in French—or was it Latin? She wasn't sure—and not a single item looked like something she could pronounce, let alone afford.
"A… a small coffee, please," she said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.
The barista blinked at her with the kind of expression reserved for the hopelessly poor or tragically lost. "Madam," he said gently, "our smallest size is Grande."
She glanced at the price beside it.
35,000 won.
Roughly $27.
Yujin wanted to scream
Her soul left her body for a brief moment.
"…Grande, then," she muttered.
The barista gave a polite smile. "And the name for the order?"
Yujin froze. Her brain panicked, then landed on the first name that made her feel even remotely powerful.
"Kim Jennie," she said confidently.
If she was blowing half her grocery budget on a cup of coffee, she was damn well going to do it under an idol's name.
She took the overpriced drink—served in a cup so delicate it looked like it came with a trust fund—and made her way to a quiet corner booth by the window. The cushion beneath her felt like sitting on a cloud woven by very skilled artisans and craftsmen.Ridiculous.
Pulling out her phone, she finally checked Mina's messages.
[Mina: Got something to eat. I'll swing by yours in a bit Babe.]
Yujin quickly typed a reply:
[Not home anymore. I'm at Maison de Lune.]
It was the name of the café—French, pretentious, and absolutely perfect for this city's wannabe elite. The kind of place influencers came to photograph their lattes more than drink them.
As she hit send and took a cautious sip of her "Grande" coffee (which honestly tasted like mild regret and burnt flowers), a familiar chime went off.
Ding!
[Mission status: 98% complete.]
Yes!!
She nearly screamed in triumph, her eyes wide with disbelief.
It actually worked.
This place was high-end enough.
She looked around, half-expecting the chandelier to start raining coins or for a suited billionaire or a knight or whatever to walk in and propose a business idea or wedding ring on the spot.
But no—just couples on awkward dates and girls taking selfies with pastries that cost more than a utility bill.
Still, progress was progress.
She just had to sit here for two more minutes and she'd be free.
Then—
A voice, sharp with curiosity.
"Wait… isn't that Dan-su?"
"Isn't he the heir to the Han Group?"
Yujin froze mid-sip.