“Ugh.”
I barely managed to drag my stiff body upright.
The day before, I’d made a single Damascus dagger and then collapsed right where I was.
Maybe the sleeping arrangement had been bad, because my whole body felt sore.
Even in a metallurgist’s workshop, it seemed a sofa didn’t come with a function that made it feel like a bed.
I groaned as I sat on the sofa.
I thought back over the past few days.
I’d Awakened, whined a bunch, then gotten a forge and grinned like an idiot.
I had to admit what needed admitting.
‘Awakening. And the Gallery… You enjoyed it too.’
Regardless of the fact that I disliked Awakened people.
I couldn’t deny that the things I’d gained through Awakening were extremely useful.
I opened the Gallery.
It was so I could properly grasp the situation I was in.
They said it took three days just to get used to the mood of a gallery, but I’d spent two of them drawing aggro and making a knife.
Shouldn’t I at least make good use of the one remaining day?
Fortunately, the old-timers of the Gallery answered my questions kindly.
└DressedCold: Most of the people here are from other dimensions. Since there are a lot of different kinds of craftsmen, sometimes multiple craftsmen get called from the same dimension, but cases where they’re in the same field are rare.
└WatermelonThief: Yeah, that’s right. Other than Yoiyoi and Dagger Lord, there probably aren’t many?
The most surprising thing was that their dimensions were all different.
Some of them came from medieval fantasy worlds where dragons flew through the skies, while others came from soft romance-fantasy settings.
There were places where mana was commonplace, and places like ours where it was the exclusive possession of a select few.
Most of them didn’t seem to know about the Black Tower, either. In our dimension, I was the only person connected to the Gallery.
└ImperialHammer: We don’t have anything outside the Gallery either, like status windows or passives. You just know by feel.
└SpearKingOfAllWeapons: The ranking systems are all different too. Instead of Unique-Epic-Legendary, I heard some places use Su-U-Mi-Yang-Ga.
└DontBuyShields: What the hell is Su-U-Mi-Yang-Ga…?
└BowGuy: Actually, Spear King uses Su-U-Mi-Yang-Ga.
└SpearKingOfAllWeapons: Actually, it’s Gap-Eul-Byeong-Jeong.
Just as I was spending a good while gallerying and studying like that,
the Metallurgist barged into the conversation.
└Metallurgist: Python, come talk to me.
Hm?
***
A laboratory in another dimension.
“Mmm…”
A woman who had been sleeping face down on a desk, covered with a white researcher’s coat, woke up.
It was the metallurgist, Eponine Roche.
By her head lay a dagger with a Legendary option attached to it.
It seemed she had fallen asleep as if passing out after researching all night.
Eponine stared down at the dagger with a displeased expression.
She was used to ruining her sleep while investigating something.
But this was the first time she had failed to find even a clue by the next day.
How had such a shoddy dagger ended up with one amazing option after another?
The blade was thick and the tip was blunt.
At this point, a finger would be pointier and a tree branch would be sharper.
Yoiyoi wouldn’t even be able to use this lump of metal to slice rice cakes…
She shifted her gaze to the side.
A wooden doll with a hole in it, as if pierced by a sharp spear.
Famous swords split cleanly in two.
Mithril lay scattered about, its cut surfaces exposed in neat cross-sections.
They were the byproducts of yesterday’s experiment.
‘And I didn’t even infuse it with mana.’
When she lightly thrust with a steel sword, wood split apart, and when she brought it down with a tap, mithril cleaved.
How?
She genuinely had no idea.
Even the laws of magic operated within the realm of common sense.
It had been hundreds of years since they had theoretically established how magic activated.
People breathing fire, or eating sand and turning into sand, were now common sense.
But stabbing something with a magic beam of a three-centimeter radius and producing a hole only one centimeter wide was not common sense.
She had even brought in cutting-edge equipment to determine the cause, but she hadn’t found an answer.
“Haah.”
It seemed this would take some time.
After waking herself up with a quick wash, she went out and bought breakfast.
The meal was simple.
A slice of frozen pizza and three tomatoes for dessert.
She took a bite of the pizza she’d heated in the microwave and opened the Gallery.
The first thing to do was review the posts that had piled up overnight.
It was a habit born from her peculiar manifestation of a thirst for knowledge, always wanting to grasp all information.
The atmosphere on the board was no different from usual.
Craftsmen wasting time on pointless chatter.
Suddenly, she grew irritated.
No, seriously. These people were supposed to be craftsmen counted among the best in their respective dimensions.
They should have been sharing their techniques with one another, discussing them, and developing further.
Was it really acceptable for them to be lazing around, eating and playing like this?
Just imagining those sorts of people being praised as master artisans made her feel twisted inside.
Tch.
“Nom.”
Eponine chewed on the pizza loaded with tomato sauce and scrolled.
The scroll bar moved up and down for quite a while without stopping.
There were no posts worth keeping up with today, either.
“I’m the idiot for expecting anything.”
Just as she was about to close the Gallery,
a post caught her eye.
A newbie’s post looking for her.
She clicked on it.
A photo of a Damascus dagger greeted her.
The way its raindrop pattern was engraved like tree rings was beautiful.
He said it was a return gift for the Cube Forge.
She’d given it to him in exchange for borrowing the dagger in the first place, so what return gift?
Did he want them to exchange gifts until the day they died?
She grumbled like that, but the corners of Eponine’s mouth had crept upward.
“Ha, this brat… He’s cute.”
Eponine enlarged the photo and examined the sword in detail.
As a capable blacksmith, a passionate researcher, and a renowned scholar and professor, the quality of the weapon didn’t seem all that impressive to her.
It had simply been given an option after completion; it was obvious mana hadn’t been utilized during the production process.
The designs of the blade and grip were also just slightly lacking to be called perfect.
Which meant everything else was good.
‘Looks like he’s stupidly good at hammering, at least.’
If even basic magic were added to this, it would produce a far more functional sword.
It was a shame, but it couldn’t be helped.
There seemed to be a gap in technological capability between their two dimensions.
Eponine had learned something while talking to the newbie yesterday.
The level of mana utilization in Python’s civilization had not escaped the prehistoric age.
They knew how to fight while wrapped in mana, but had no ability or knowledge whatsoever to use it in engineering or technology.
And the scientific level of the twenty-first-century civilization Python lived in wasn’t that different from Eponine’s civilization.
The background in the dagger photo he’d uploaded proved it: electrically powered machines and modern structures.
She was delighted.
The craftsmen in the Gallery were at most stuck around the modern era. No one understood even when she explained electricity or automation.
Just as she’d been feeling frustrated alone, a craftsman who seemed like she might actually be able to talk to him suddenly appeared.
That was why, despite having a backlog of things to research, she had taken the Legendary dagger as if enchanted.
On top of that, the human had a somewhat cute side.
That was right. In truth, things like technology and civilization weren’t important at all.
What mattered was enthusiasm!
She usually didn’t say it out loud because she worried she’d sound like an old nag, but Eponine placed great importance on the will to do something.
In that sense, Python was quite a likable newbie.
She liked that, the moment she gave him a forge, he went straight down to his hometown.
She liked that he insisted on giving her a return gift and hammered away in a sweat.
Somehow, she could picture him jumping up and down in excitement after seeing his new workshop.
There just weren’t passionate characters like this these days.
If possible, she wanted to keep him nearby and raise him…
What should she do?
After pondering for a moment,
Eponine’s genius brain produced a good answer.
Grin—
With an ominous smile, Eponine opened the Gallery.
***
└Metallurgist: Python, come talk to me.
└Python: Huh?
A sudden comment from the Metallurgist.
Something about the mood felt strange. Not in a good way, of course.
In my experience, conversations that began with “come talk to me” or “we need to talk” mostly led to bad endings.
Usually, Pyo Yeojeong would call me over with that line and explain how the mercenary corps was getting fucked.
└Metallurgist: Can we talk through private messages?
The Metallurgist was even asking for a private chat.
Had I made some kind of mistake without realizing it?
Was gifting a knife a signal to throw hands in the Metallurgist’s world?
I gulped and accepted the Metallurgist’s request.
└Metallurgist: First, I saw the knife you made. You’ve got talent.
└Metallurgist: Of course, there were some things that were a little lacking. You can improve quality with mana during the production process too, but all you did was add one option after the finished product came out.
└Python: So that means you liked it, right?
└Metallurgist: Python, the thing is, I’m a professor.
└Python: …I see?
Because of my deep-rooted academic inferiority complex, formal speech slipped out without me realizing.
The Metallurgist continued saying what she had to say, regardless.
└Metallurgist: I came up with an interesting research topic. Could you help me out a little?
└Metallurgist: Think of it as a return gift for your return gift.
She wanted me to help with research?
I didn’t know for certain, but the Metallurgist was probably from a different dimension than mine. At the very least, there was no way a technology like the Cube Forge existed on our Earth.
She might even be hundreds of millions of light-years away.
In a situation like this, I couldn’t figure out how she wanted me to help.
└Metallurgist: No need to think of it too seriously. It’s a simple social experiment.
A social experiment!
I didn’t even know what that was.
└Metallurgist: You said most people in your world suffer from mana insensitivity.
└Metallurgist: And that people who knew how to use mana in the first place only appeared thirty years ago.
└Metallurgist: You said there were no blacksmiths or engineers among the Awakened, so there were no mana-bearing items either.
└Metallurgist: Strange towers appeared, and magical beasts poured out of collapsed towers, leaving the residents trembling in anxiety.
I replied with “Yeah.”
I had no idea what she was trying to say after laying that much groundwork.
└Metallurgist: In that situation, what would happen if you released a defensive artifact imbued with mana? Aren’t you curious?
What?!
I deleted the “Yeah” I’d posted above and changed it to, “I’m listening attentively, Professor.”
I quickly pulled my body up from where I’d been reclining on the sofa too. I knelt reverently before the Gallery status window and waited for the next chat.
A defensive artifact.
If something like that existed, wouldn’t we at least be able to avoid seeing children running around with pistols loaded with live ammunition?
I wouldn’t have to see old ladies laying out bracken and guns on street stalls either.
‘The Black Tower too…’
We’d be able to climb the tower further.
The number of squad members who died or became crippled would drop drastically too.
Maybe it could even be used to keep those Hunter bastards in check…
└Python: That artifact thing. How good is its performance? It can definitely block bullets, right?
└Metallurgist: It should be able to block crude weapons made without mana, of course, and most attacks from magical beasts too.
└Metallurgist: It’ll also block an attack imbued with mana once.
Performance this, performance that.
That was a stupid thing to ask from the start.
These were people who carried around forges inside cubes the size of a piece of ninety-nine-percent cacao chocolate. Of course it would be amazing!
└Metallurgist: People keep saying in the Gallery that I’m getting a free ride…
└Metallurgist: Don’t worry. I’m not getting a free ride.
└Metallurgist: If you agree to help, I’ll support you fully.
└Metallurgist: I mean I’ll teach you how to use mana during production, and even how to make artifacts.
Even lessons?
Was it all right for me to receive something like this?
I felt my body tremble faintly.
A giddy excitement made me grin before I knew it.
Meanwhile, perhaps thinking I was still hesitating, the Metallurgist continued trying to persuade me.
└Metallurgist: Well, if you intend to walk the single path of cold weapons for life, or if you’re set on only making weapons, then I suppose it can’t be helped.
└Metallurgist: What’s certain is that once this is over, your skills in making weapons and armor will have improved tremendously too.
└Python: I’ll do it! I’m doing it! I’ll do it. Fr. I absolutely will. No matter what.
└Metallurgist: Huh? Oh, thank you! I’ll still make sure to guarantee you time to make weapons.
└Metallurgist: But you’ll have to handle product promotion and sales yourself… I don’t really know much about that side… Will that be okay?
└Python: Don’t worry!
That was my specialty.
I had already planned out the sales route too.
└Metallurgist: I’m getting nervous;;
└Python: Have you spent your whole life getting lied to?
Seriously.