Joo-won approached the tower's entrance. With reverence, he played the Gu Zheng, its celestial notes resonating in the air. The fluid door shimmered, revealing the tower's majestic interior.

"This disciple humbly returns," Joo-won announced, bowing slightly.

Hanjjokkom, the dokkaebi who resembled a earless teddy bear, materialized before him. Its round, button eyes fixed on Joo-won with an inscrutable gaze. "Speak your purpose, young cultivator."

Joo-won produced a small vial from his space wristband, holding it forth. "This one seeks wisdom regarding a potent poison. It was wielded by Alchemist Mang-Dok in a recent confrontation."

The dokkaebi extended a stubby paw, enveloping the vial in a mysterious light. After a moment of contemplation, Hanjjokkom spoke, with voice carrying the weight of ancient knowledge.

"This venom originates from the Thousand-Fangs Viper Dragon, a fearsome beast of the Desolate Era. However, this sample is but from a youngling, no more than a century old. The Poison sect uses its venom for nurturing their disciples."

Joo-won's eyes widened, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. "The Thousand-Fangs Viper Dragon? Surely you jest, Hanjjokkom!"

The stuffed bear-like dokkaebi fixed him with its unblinking button eyes. "This one does not jest, young cultivator. The venom you hold is as I said."

Joo-won's mind whirled like a dervish. A mythical creature's venom, in the hands of that snake Mang-Dok? This was worse than he'd imagined.

"Hanjjokkom," he pleaded, "surely there must be a way to counter this poison? My Heaven Clarity Pills and Five Organs Mountain Herb Decoction won't be enough if Mang-Dok unleashes this on the whole district!"

The dokkaebi tilted its head, considering. "Hmm. Perhaps there is a more... accessible solution. Tell me, young one, have you heard of the Three-Leaf Starfire plant?"

Joo-won wracked his brain. "I... I'm not sure. Is it common?"

"Too common like the blood of the Kun Peng," Hanjjokkom replied, a hint of amusement in its tone. "It grows in shaded valleys, its leaves shimmering like captured starlight. When brewed with pure spring water under the light of a full moon, it creates a potent antidote."

Joo-won's brow furrowed, his mind racing. As common as the blood of Kun Peng? "Honored Hanjjokkom, forgive my ignorance, but... is there perhaps a more, well, ordinary solution? Something a common herb-picker might stumble upon?"

The stuffed bear-like dokkaebi tilted its head, button eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Ordinary? Young cultivator, the Three-Leaf Starfire is common. What manner of 'normal' do you seek?"

Joo-won rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "I mean... something the average person might find in their garden or local market. We're trying to protect an entire district, after all."

Hanjjokkom was silent for a long moment, its round form perfectly still. Then, with a voice tinged with surprise, it spoke. "Your words perplex me, Joo-won. Allow me to glimpse your memories, that I might understand."

A warm sensation washed over Joo-won as Hanjjokkom's power flowed through him. Suddenly, the dokkaebi's eyes widened – an impressive feat for button eyes.

"Great heavens!" Hanjjokkom exclaimed, its usually calm voice filled with shock. "The world has changed far more than I realized. The knowledge of the ancients, lost to time..."

Joo-won leaned forward, hope kindling in his chest. "Then... is there something more suitable for our current age?"

Hanjjokkom's button eyes gleamed with ancient wisdom as it began to share its knowledge. "Listen well, young Joo-won. While the Heaven Clarity Pill and Five Organs Mountain Herb Decoction are potent, I understand your need for more... accessible alternatives."

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Joo-won leaned in, his curiosity piqued. This was exactly what he'd been hoping for!

"I shall impart to you several recipes," Hanjjokkom continued, its voice taking on a teacher's tone. "These use common herbs from your world, but when combined correctly, they create a powerful synergy. The key lies in extracting specific compounds from each plant. Precision is crucial, or the antidote will fail."

As Hanjjokkom listed off various combinations, one particular recipe caught Joo-won's attention like a flashing talisman.

"The Seven-Hued Harmony," Hanjjokkom announced, a hint of reverence in its voice. "This antidote harnesses the power of the rainbow itself."

Joo-won's eyes widened as Hanjjokkom listed the ingredients:

"Bloodlotus Seed, red as dawn's first light. Sunstone Moss, orange as a tiger's flame. Golden Web Herb, yellow as autumn's bounty. Jade Serenity Leaf, green as a tranquil forest. Azure Frostbloom, blue as the deepest sea. Nightshade Iris, indigo as twilight's embrace. Purple Soul Orchid, violet as the mysteries of the cosmos."

Each name sent a thrill through Joo-won. These were more than just herbs – they were a poem, a promise of hope against Mang-Dok's venom.

"These ingredients... they must be the key," Joo-won muttered, his eyes gleaming with determination.

Hanjjokkom hopped onto the table, its round eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. He crossed its stubby arms and huffed.

"Tch! Gathering the ingredients is child's play, young master," the spirit chided. "The true test lies in coaxing out their essence. One misstep, and your antidote will be as useful as pig swill!"

Joo-won's lips quirked into a wry smile. "Then I suppose I'd better not make any missteps."

Days blended into weeks as Joo-won toiled tirelessly. The moonlight often found him still bent over his work, hands stained with herb juices, muttering incantations under his breath. Each failure only fueled his resolve.

"Aiyah!" Hanjjokom exclaimed one night, after a particularly spectacular explosion left Joo-won's face covered in soot. "At this rate, you'll poison yourself before that Mang-Dok fellow gets the chance!"

But Joo-won merely wiped his face and started again.

Finally, after a month that felt like a lifetime, Joo-won held up a vial filled with shimmering, opalescent liquid. The Seven-Hued Harmony danced in the lamplight, a rainbow trapped in glass.

"It is done," Joo-won breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

…

One night, Joo-won's fingers brushed against something smooth and round as he rummaged through his space wristband. His eyes widened as he pulled out the mysterious black "seed" Tae-yang had given him. It gleamed like polished obsidian in the flickering candlelight.

"Hey, Hanjjokkom," he called out, holding up the object. "What do you make of this?"

The dokkaebi waddled over, its stuffed bear-like body swaying comically. But when its glowing eyes fell upon the "seed," Hanjjokkom froze.

"By the Jade Emperor's beard," the spirit whispered, voice uncharacteristically serious. "Young master, that's no ordinary seed. It's an egg – one that hasn't been seen in the mortal realm for countless ages!"

Joo-won's eyebrows shot up. "An egg? What kind of creature—"

"The Unmaker," Hanjjokkom cut in, his tiny paws gesturing dramatically. "A beast so ancient, it's said to gnaw at the very roots of Yggdrasil itself!"

Joo-won's mouth went dry. "That sounds... ominous."

Hanjjokkom nodded sagely. "Aye, it could bring about untold calamity. Or," the spirit's eyes gleamed, "become a source of power beyond your wildest dreams. But first, it needs to be nurtured by pure energy. For thousands of years!"

"Thousands of—" Joo-won began, then shook his head. "Never mind. What should I do with it?"

The dokkaebi stroked his non-existent beard. "This tower... its primordial energy might just do the trick. We could leave it here, let it soak up all that juicy cosmic goodness."

…

Days blended into weeks as Joo-won threw himself into his studies. The tower's alchemy lab became a second home, filled with bubbling concoctions and the acrid smell of herbs. More than once, Hanjjokkom had to douse small fires caused by particularly volatile experiments.

"I've almost got it," Joo-won muttered, adding a pinch of glowing powder to a simmering cauldron. The mixture turned a sickly green, then abruptly exploded in a shower of sparks.

Coughing and waving away the smoke, Joo-won's shoulders slumped. "Or... maybe not."

But for every failure, there was a small victory. A successfully brewed antidote, a newly understood alchemical principle. Slowly but surely, Joo-won's knowledge grew.

One night, as moonlight streamed through the tower's windows, Joo-won held up a vial of shimmering liquid. "Look, Hanjjokkom!"

The dokkaebi peered at the vial, impressed despite himself. "Barely passable, young master. But remember, true mastery isn't just about making fancy potions. It's about—"

"—understanding the balance of nature and using that knowledge wisely," Joo-won finished, smiling. "I know, old friend. And I promise, I'll use everything I learn to protect those who can't protect themselves."