I Became The Owner Of The Magical Spring Where Spirits Gather

001.

Everyone rides the rollercoaster of life.
Sometimes, it climbs so high it feels unreal. Other times, it plummets in ways that are just as unbelievable.

My rollercoaster?
Well… I think mine hasn’t just fallen—it’s slammed straight into the ground.

“Since the accident, you haven’t been able to sleep, right? Hmm… and your appetite’s gone too, and nothing tastes good… Are there any other issues?”

At the doctor’s words, my mind, sinking deep in a dark swamp, was forced back to the surface.

“My eyes… I can’t look people in the eye. I know they’re not, but it feels like they’re looking down on me. I get paranoid.”

“That’s common among Hunters after an accident. Especially in your case, Hunter Lee Minseo—you were hounded by the media after ‘that’ incident…”

At that, memories suddenly came flooding back.

— It’s Lee Minseo!!
— Hunter Lee Minseo! Is it true you’re retiring due to your injury?
— They say your mana core is completely destroyed! Is there no chance of recovery?
— Can you say a few words?

The irritating, unpleasant memories of that day twisted Minseo’s face.

Maybe it was my expression, because the doctor quickly changed the subject.

“In most cases, that sense of loss can be eased if you find something to fill it with, or if your abilities return… but your injury is beyond what modern medicine can fix.”

He hesitated, then smiled awkwardly.

“I recommend going somewhere peaceful with fresh air and few people, maybe to rest and recover. You’re in a very sensitive state due to extreme stress. In this condition, even medication might not be effective.”

“Thank you.”

Another useless consultation, over.

I’d been to multiple hospitals, but all I heard was more of the same.
Actually, this hospital seemed to sugarcoat it a bit, maybe trying not to upset me.

— This is a serious injury. There’s nothing modern medicine can do.
— Go somewhere quiet and rest. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll miraculously recover… but don’t expect too much. Just try to find peace of mind.

I could still hear the voice of the first doctor I visited.

Back home, Lee Minseo sat on the couch, blankly staring at the TV.

— Next, news about the Gray Tower. Korea’s top guild, ACE, led by the Chrono Hunter, has successfully cleared the 39th floor of the Gray Tower. This marks the fifth global achievement…
— The 39th floor is currently under investigation… As we approach the 40th floor era, experts are optimistic about the discovery of new resources…

News about the ACE Guild—where he once belonged—and the Gray Tower, where he’d poured his life.

After his retirement, the swarm of journalists chasing him like leeches and the sensational headlines had mostly disappeared.

Sure, a few reporters still lingered near his home, and strange articles popped up now and then, but interest had faded.

Because the public had moved on.

The fall of a hero may be exciting and dramatic—but only for a moment.
A new hero appears, new stories emerge, and the past is brutally forgotten.

Just like him.

He remembered the day he retired.

“That’s unfortunate. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

His words sounded sincere, but they didn’t feel real.
His eyes gave him away.
He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Minseo stared into those eyes for a moment, then gave a slight nod to the middle-aged man in rimmed glasses at the desk.

“…I’ll be going.”

“Stay healthy.”

Healthy? What a joke.

A bitter smile crossed Minseo’s face, but he said nothing as he left the guild manager’s office.

Before his injury, that same manager used to cling to him, always trying to talk more. Now? He’d flipped like a switch.

“Tae-hyung…”

Jang Kanghee stood by the door.

Minseo didn’t respond, just looked at him. The round-faced younger man lowered his head and began to tear up.

Normally, Minseo would have patted his shoulder a few times.

But… sorry. I’m in no state to do that right now.

“If you leave like this… Are you really leaving?”

I didn’t want to hear any of it.
I passed by him in silence.

Behind Kanghee, a few other guild members stood awkwardly.

Maybe they’d gathered to give him applause or something. Their faces were full of pity.
Disgusting.

That hesitation in their eyes wasn’t real.

Without a word, I passed them and walked out of the building completely.

Even now, it’s hard to believe that was my retirement.

Well, I got my severance pay, so I guess it counts.

‘Damn it… I wasn’t supposed to think about this.’

Lee Minseo, the so-called star Hunter, was celebrated from childhood for his talent.
Now, injured and retired, facing the change in how people treated him, it was unbearable.

Especially after losing his “abilities,” the core of his confidence, he couldn’t handle the way people looked at him.

“Sigh…”

He wiped his pale, worn-out face with one rough motion.

‘How long has it been?’

A sudden accident. An unwanted retirement.

It hadn’t even been a full month, but the world already felt like it had stopped.

Impulsively, he grabbed his car keys.
He packed a few things, started the car, and stared blankly ahead.

‘Where should I go…?’

Since awakening, he’d lived his whole life as a Hunter.

He’d devoted his life to the Gray Tower—he had no friends to visit, no places to go.

‘Anywhere but here.’

Seoul, gray and crowded, felt like hell.

Minseo’s car slowly exited the underground parking lot.

He drove aimlessly through empty weekday roads until he arrived at—

‘Here…’

[Nabigol]

A quiet village sign came into view.

“Nabigol,” a small town on the border of Gangwon-do and Chungcheongbuk-do.

His childhood home. His grandmother’s village.

‘Without realizing…’

He parked in front of his grandmother’s house. As soon as he turned off the engine, memories came trickling back.

The sound of flowing water in the stream, the chirping of birds…
In summer, he used to fall asleep on the cool wooden porch after eating watermelon.

His grandmother’s house, like an old photo album filled with small memories.
The modest fence, the red front gate.
The white walls, the dark wood floors. The little spring in the yard.

It felt like his subconscious had brought him to the most peaceful place in his life.

— Creak.

He pushed open the creaky gate. Weeds had overgrown the yard.

He brushed his hand over the dusty wooden floor. Dust rose into the air.

He could almost see his grandmother fanning herself on this very porch.

Minseo sat in silence.

This house, full of memories, now looked abandoned and wounded.

‘It’s a mess. Just like me…’

A wave of emptiness hit him right in the chest.

He looked around with a bitter expression and spotted something at the edge of his gaze—
The forgotten little spring.

Drawn to it without thinking, he walked over.
The spring was dry, revealing a cracked bottom.

The clear water that used to sparkle like jewels—gone.

Just like his shattered mana core. Not a drop left.

He let out a sigh.

Then suddenly, a surge of anger, aimless and overwhelming.

He stared at the dried-up spring, consumed by emotion, then stood abruptly.

“Hoo…”

Who are you mad at, really?
How pathetic.

He took a deep breath. As he calmed down, the broken house around him started to feel familiar.

Especially that dried-up spring—it was just like him.

He shook his head and stepped inside the house.

There was nothing left.
Dust everywhere. The house was completely empty.

No grandmother’s cabinet in the bedroom. No fat old TV or green landline in the living room.

Everything was gone.

Minseo slowly wandered through the house, feeling strangely unfamiliar.

The sliding glass doors and cherry-colored trim were still the same.

‘Oh right, there was an attic too.’

He opened a small door in the corner room and found a little staircase, like a secret passage.

His childhood hideout.
A low-ceiling attic with a small window, filled with everything he loved.

“Huaah… Dust.”

Crouching to enter, he was met with dust and cobwebs.

Standing at the top of the steps, he spotted a small tin box.

“Wow.”

He let out a soft exclamation.

Dust didn’t matter.

He quickly opened the tin box. Inside were random little things:

Carefully folded paper toys, favorite character figures, shiny stones, a clumsy slingshot…

A faint smile crept across Minseo’s lips.

His childhood treasures.
And then—what’s this?

“A notebook?”

Puzzled, he picked up a worn notebook. Inside, rows of his grandmother’s neat handwriting.

Ah… he remembered.

His grandmother’s journal.

He’d never read it this closely before… and as he flipped through, something fell out.

A photo.

Faded with time.
He was in the middle, grinning mischievously. His grandmother was behind him, smiling sweetly with her hands on his shoulders.

The lush garden, the clear spring… fragments of precious memories captured in one photo.

Minseo gently brushed the photo with his fingers.

Closing his eyes, the warm scenery of his grandmother’s house came back vividly, not like now, but glowing with peace.

After a while, he slowly opened his eyes and looked again at the photo in his hand.

‘Let’s fix it. Just like before.’

Maybe… maybe if he rebuilt this place, he could forget the pain—even just a little.

Just like the carefree child who once ran through nature.

Maybe Minseo was searching for something to fix, because he couldn’t be fixed.