Twelve days after the shed became theirs, the grain shed was no longer a hopeful wreck. It was a working operation.
The roof was solid. The drying racks ran the full length of the back wall. The long central table was scarred from constant use, and two heavy locked chests sat in the corner like iron secrets. Branded bundles moved in and out every morning under the red seal Deok-su Protected – Premium Medicinal Roots. The silver pouch on the table was thicker than it had ever been.
Seo-joon stood at the open doorway, counting the morning's returns. Thirty-eight bundles gone before noon. The runners were smiling now. Customers were coming to the shed itself instead of waiting in alleys. The business was no longer surviving. It was growing.
Mak-bong dropped a heavy pouch on the table with a metallic clink. "First guild payment arrived this morning, Boss. Baek So-yeon brought it herself. One hundred and twenty silver mun for the first delivery of one hundred bundles. She said her father is pleased and wants to double the order next month if the southern situation worsens."
Wol whistled low. "We just made more in one delivery than we used to make in a month of scraping by. That contract is real money."
Min-seo stood at the bundling table, fingers still on a half-tied bundle. She had been quieter these past days, watching everything with the same sharp, guarded eyes. The work had hardened her hands and her posture, but it had not dulled the quiet fire between her and Seo-joon.
Before anyone could celebrate, the alley outside filled with the sound of multiple boots and the creak of an official cart.
Four gray-uniformed officials stepped into the doorway, led by a thin, sour-faced man holding a sealed requisition order. Behind them, two armed guards. And leaning against the opposite wall with a smug grin was Gu Chil, arms crossed, watching like a man who had just lit the fuse.
The lead official didn't bother with pleasantries. "By royal decree, all merchants holding medicinal roots must surrender thirty percent of current stock for the border supply effort. Immediate inspection and seizure."
Seo-joon felt the floor tilt under him. This was the first direct hit from the war rumors. Not whispers anymore. Not rising prices. Requisition.
Min-seo moved to his side instantly, voice low and tight. "They're taking from everyone now. Gu Chil must have pointed them here specifically."
The official unrolled the order. "You are the root seller operating under Deok-su's banner. Show us the storage chests. Thirty percent goes to the army. Refuse and we seize everything."
Gu Chil's grin widened from across the alley. "Told you I'd collect, root boy. The magistrate's cousin sends his regards. War makes strange bedfellows."
Seo-joon's mind raced through options. The locked chests held the night's duplicated batch—nearly two hundred premium roots. Giving thirty percent meant handing over real product they had already promised to the Baek Guild. Refusing meant arrest or worse. And if the officials opened the chests and started counting too closely…
He made the call.
"Wol, open the small chest. Give them exactly thirty percent of what's inside. No more, no less."
Wol hesitated only a heartbeat before obeying. The officials watched closely as she counted out sixty roots and loaded them into their cart. Gu Chil's eyes narrowed, disappointed they hadn't found something illegal.
The lead official stamped the requisition receipt and handed it over. "You are now on the official supply list. Next requisition in ten days. Fail to comply and the shed will be seized for the war effort."
They left. Gu Chil lingered a moment longer, spitting on the ground. "Enjoy your little victory. Next time I'll make sure they take everything. Including that pretty delivery girl of yours."
The alley fell quiet again.
Seo-joon locked the door behind them and turned to the crew. The silver from the Baek Guild still sat on the table, but the taste of victory had soured.
Min-seo's hand found his arm. "You gave them real roots. The ones we duplicated last night. We just lost sixty bundles we were supposed to deliver to the guild in three days."
"I know," he said quietly. "But refusing would have brought them back with more men and a search warrant. This way we buy time. We duplicate again tonight—double the usual amount. High risk, but we keep the guild contract alive."
Mak-bong looked pale. "Gu Chil is the one who told them to come here. He's not going to stop."
Wol slammed the empty chest shut. "Boy's playing with fire now. War hasn't even started and the vultures are already circling."
Seo-joon looked at the signed contract, the silver, the drying racks, and the locked chests that held their real secret. The shed had become their greatest strength and their greatest vulnerability in the same week.
Min-seo stayed close after the others returned to work. Her voice was low, meant only for him. "You just gambled sixty bundles to protect the pot. That's the kind of choice that scares me, Seo-joon. Not because it's ruthless. Because I understand why you made it." She touched the side of his face briefly, the gesture private and heavy. "I'm still here. But every time we win like this, I feel us both changing. Tell me we're not becoming the people who deserve what Gu Chil wants to do to us."
He covered her hand with his for a moment, the touch grounding. "We're becoming the people who survive. That's all I promised myself the day I woke up in that cave."
Outside, the runner's voice drifted down the alley again, louder and more urgent than ever.
"Royal decree! All merchants must prepare double their normal stock for the next requisition! Border situation worsening!"
The war had not arrived.
But it had already started taking its first payment in blood and silver.