"Don't judge me," Ji-woo mumbled to his reflection. "A man's gotta prepare. And besides," he added, eyeing his current attire of faded pajamas and a slightly questionable t-shirt, "a spice king needs a certain… panache."

First on the agenda: shopping. He grabbed his newly acquired fortune (or at least a reasonable portion of it – he wasn't about to flash fifty million won at the local market) and headed out the door. His first stop was a department store.

"Okay, Ji-woo," he muttered to himself as he entered the brightly lit store, "think like a spice king. What does a spice king wear? Probably not pajamas. Definitely not pajamas."

He wandered through the clothing sections, his eyes scanning the racks. He needed clothes that would blend in with the Aethellian aesthetic, something practical and comfortable. He opted for simple tunics, sturdy trousers, and a few linen shirts. "Think peasant chic," he muttered, grabbing a handful of items. "But, you know, slightly less… peasant-y."

Then, his eyes landed on a rack of… well, let's just say "more elaborate" clothing. Think velvet, embroidery, and enough gold trim to blind a dragon.

"Now that's more like it," he murmured, running his hand over a particularly ornate tunic. "A spice king needs to make an impression. Imagine me strolling through the Aethellian marketplace, draped in this bad boy. They'll be begging me for my Fire Dust."

He grabbed a few of these… "statement pieces," telling himself they were "essential business attire." "You never know," he reasoned. "Maybe there'll be a royal spice-tasting ceremony. Or a spice king's ball. A guy's gotta be prepared."

He also picked up a few more practical items: a sturdy backpack for carrying his wares, a good pair of hiking boots for traversing the Aethellian terrain, and a few travel-sized toiletries. "Gotta stay fresh while conquering the spice trade," he muttered.

Next stop: the bank. He walked into the pristine lobby, feeling a slight twinge of nervousness. He had never opened a bank account before. He had always been a "cash-under-the-mattress" kind of guy. But now, with millions of won burning a hole in his metaphorical pocket, he figured it was time to get… official.

He approached the teller, a young woman with a friendly smile. "I'd like to open a bank account," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I have… a substantial deposit."

The teller's smile widened. "Certainly, sir. And how much would you be depositing today?"

Ji-woo hesitated. He didn't want to raise any red flags. "Just a… small portion," he said. "Let's say… five million won."

The teller's eyebrows raised slightly, but she didn't comment. She led him to a private office where he met with a bank representative. They discussed the different types of accounts, and Ji-woo opted for a basic savings account. He deposited the five million won, feeling a strange mix of relief and… a slight pang of regret. He was officially a responsible adult. Or at least, a slightly more responsible adult.

"Okay," he muttered to himself as he left the bank, "adulting is hard. But at least I'm adulting with millions of won."

Crucially, his next stop was a wholesale market specializing in… well, everything. He needed supplies. He needed spices. He needed things to trade.

"Right," he muttered, pushing a cart through the vast warehouse. "Operation: Spice King needs some… spices!"

He found a section dedicated to dried herbs and spices, his eyes widening at the sheer variety. He grabbed bags of chili flakes, garlic powder, ginger, turmeric, cumin, coriander, and anything else that looked vaguely exotic and potentially valuable. "Fire Dust's gotta have some friends, right?" he reasoned.

He also picked up a selection of other potentially tradeable goods: packages of instant coffee, boxes of tea, bundles of colorful socks, and a few sets of nail clippers. "Gotta diversify my portfolio," he muttered. "Can't put all my eggs in the spice basket. Or, you know, spice sack."

He filled his cart to overflowing, feeling a surge of excitement. He was ready. He was stocked. He was… probably going to need a bigger backpack.

He returned home, his bags overflowing with new clothes, his newly purchased trade goods, and a newfound sense of financial security. He laid out his purchases on the bed, admiring his… "spice king" wardrobe and his… "spice king" inventory.

"Okay, Ji-woo," he said to himself, striking a pose in one of the more elaborate tunics, surrounded by bags of spices and socks. "You are ready. You are stylish. You are… probably going to get some weird looks in Aethel. But it's a risk I'm willing to take. And you are definitely going to need a bigger backpack."

He packed his much larger backpack with his new clothes, his toiletries, his newly acquired spices and trade goods, and a few snacks for the journey. He also added his notebook and pen, his trusty tools of the trade.

He looked around his small, dusty house, a smile spreading across his face. He was no longer just a grieving son, lost and adrift. He was Ji-woo, the merchant, the traveler, the spice king of Aethel. He was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, armed with his father's tools, a suitcase full of questionable fashion choices, a massive backpack full of potentially lucrative goods, and a newfound fortune. And, of course, a burning desire to find some decent food.

He walks out the house and stop at the cliff, glanced at the shimmering portal, a sense of excitement bubbling within him. Then he jumped off the cliff onto the portal.