Seongjii pedaled his old bicycle through the quiet streets of Seoul, a heavy bag of journals strapped behind him. The setting sun painted the neighborhood in shades of gold and orange.
Same streets… same people… same boring deliveries, he thought.
Sweat rolled down his forehead as he wiped it away, his tired eyes reflecting the fading light.
Maybe I was just born to be average.
He stopped in front of a familiar house and rang the bell.
"Just leave it at the gate, kid!" a voice shouted from inside.
"Ah—right! Have a good evening, sir!" Seongjii replied politely.
He climbed back onto his bicycle and rode off, his shoulders slumped.
It's already been a year since school started… and I'm still doing this.
⸻
Later that night, Seongjii sat in his small, cluttered bedroom. Posters of manga characters and old game consoles covered the walls.
Park Seongjii. Seventeen. High schooler. Dreamer. Part-time journal delivery boy.
His eyes drifted to a photo pinned on the wall—his school days. Minho, Satoshi, Hyunwoo… and Zoe Kim. All of them smiling.
He smiled faintly.
"Those were good days."
A knock echoed from his door.
"Seongjii," his mother said, "one last delivery tonight. It's urgent. Can you handle it?"
"At this hour? It's almost nine…"
"Just one near the old park."
He sighed. "Alright… I'll go."
As he left the house, his parents looked up from the dinner table.
"You've been working hard, son," his father said. "Don't overdo it."
"Eat properly next time," his mother added. "It's cold outside."
"Yes, Mom… Thanks," Seongjii replied with a small smile.
⸻
Night had fully fallen when Seongjii cycled past the old park. The trees whispered as the wind passed through them.
Then—something glimmered beneath a tree.
He stopped.
A golden lamp lay half-buried in the dirt, reflecting the bike's light.
"Huh? What's that… a prop or something?"
He picked it up.
Warm.
Too warm.
The glow suddenly intensified.
"W-what the hell—?!"
FLASH!
Golden light exploded into the air, forcing him to shield his eyes. Thick smoke swirled upward, slowly taking shape.
"Am I dreaming?! I really shouldn't have skipped dinner!"
From the smoke emerged a figure—elegant, confident, eyes glowing with power.
She smirked.
"You humans never change. Always dropping me."
Seongjii froze.
"W-Who are you?!"
"The real question," she said calmly, "is what you just unleashed."
⸻
"Alright, kid," the figure continued. "You get three wishes. Choose wisely."
Three?! That's it? Seongjii facepalmed internally. I've got way too many ideas for that.
A grin slowly formed on his face.
"Actually…" he said, "let's make it fifty-one wishes instead."
Her eyes widened.
"WHAT?! Fifty-one?! That's impossible! There are rules!"
She studied him closely, then laughed softly.
"You're either incredibly bold… or incredibly foolish. Maybe both."
⸻
FLASHBACK — THE CREATOR
A dimly lit mystical laboratory. Glowing runes floated in the air as a hooded figure worked on a golden lamp.
"Long ago," the voice narrated, "when Jennie was still human, her creator foresaw the chaos a mortal could cause."
The figure placed both hands over the lamp.
"One day, someone will dare… to demand more wishes from the very beginning."
The creator's face remained half-hidden, eyes sharp.
"For such fools, limits shall exist. No superpowers. No immortality. No breaking the laws of nature. Any wish beyond these boundaries… will be rejected."
The lamp glowed violently as magic sealed Jennie inside.
"And so," the voice concluded, "Jennie was bound to the lamp… waiting for the one reckless enough to awaken her."
⸻
RETURN TO PRESENT
Seongjii stared at Jennie, his mind racing.
So the fifty-one wishes… they really come with limits.
"Exactly," Jennie said. "You've got your plan, mortal. Just remember the rules."
The lamp's glow reflected in Seongjii's eyes as excitement surged through him.
Fifty-one wishes…
The ultimate plan begins.
⸻
TO BE CONTINUED…