What's Your Name?

Pain Reduction.

In fact, among modern folks, who doesn't deal with some kind of chronic ache? Take Seon-woo's dad—he's got severe diabetes that's messed up his peripheral nerves. He says stepping barefoot on the ground feels like walking on a brutal acupressure mat. Apparently, it's one of those common side effects for diabetics. High blood sugar clogs circulation, and the feet, being the farthest from the heart, are the first to suffer. That's why diabetics have to be so careful with foot wounds. A cut you don't even notice can fester and lead to amputation.

Honestly, these clothes can wipe out the pain, but they won't cure the diabetes at its root. They just reduce the pain. But pain-related illnesses aren't limited to diabetes. From rheumatoid arthritis to something called CRPS—Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. CRPS is especially horrifying; the pain can be beyond human imagination and constant. No reliable treatment makes it even more grim.

Imagine supplying those clothes to patients like that. It's not even a money issue. And pain reduction is a huge boon in combat too. We hunters feel plenty of agony during hunts. When that headless troll kept coming at me, it hurt like hell. Cutting that pain would make these items incredibly useful.

"Mom, how about making some other styles? Not just the hanbok upgrades—maybe vests or something simple and practical."

"You think? I'm suddenly overflowing with motivation! Hohoho."

There's a special joy in creating something that's genuinely top-tier. Only makers get it. And just like that, Mom set up a clothing factory with the female orcs.

Now it was time to field-test these clothes outside.

"I'm heading to Dad's."

"Okay."

I made my way to the field where Dad was working. He's always smiling there. Everything he plants grows perfectly, yielding crops that blow previous harvests out of the water. How could he not be thrilled? And now with livestock too. Lately, he's been talking about raising island boars. Full-grown ones might be tough, but starting from piglets? He thinks it's feasible. Pigs eat anything, after all. They could devour a big chunk of our gate's surplus production. I'm on board with that. Plus, they breed faster than cows and pop out way more piglets per litter. And the taste? Out of this world.

"Any new crops?"

"Yeah, some popped up. I didn't even plant 'em."

"Huh? What kind?"

"Those."

Dad pointed to some trees. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had no idea when they'd sprung up there. A quick Observation revealed the details.

A coffee tree with awakening properties.

"Jaaackpot! That's coffee!"

"I suspected, but it's really coffee?"

"Yep. Doesn't boost stats, but it stimulates the brain. Best ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠part—no side effects."

"Oh ho? We should swap Si-yeon's water for this."

"Gotta keep her on it. Heh."

Si-yeon could use a brain boost. She's a high schooler prepping for exams, after all. Maybe it'd stop her from pulling Transfer Student Typhoon stunts.

"I actually like that it doesn't raise stats."

"Me too."

Stat boosts would be messier. Maximized natural effects like this are better. We'd have to think about selling it outside, though.

"How're the island boars coming along?"

"Planning to have the orcs snag some piglets. Karak's great at that."

"Sounds good. Then we'll need a pig barn."

"Orcs'll handle construction. Dad, just oversee."

"Alright."

"Don't work too hard."

"Hard? This is fun! Makes me wanna bring the whole village here."

"Huh? That... might actually work."

The real farming pros aren't Dad or me—they're the folks from Gapyeong. But the earthquake wrecked not just houses but fields too. These are people who live off a year's harvest. This year? Total disaster. Government aid helps, but will it cover the loss? It's not just money; the grief of losing their crops, cows, pigs—like losing kids. They talk about those animals like family. Just like how I felt losing Hoya.

My territory needs expanding anyway. Why not hire them as farmers? Sure, not all rural folks are saints. But Mom and Dad's village? No bad apples. People romanticize countryside life, but outsiders often get shunned. Not there—they welcomed and stuck by my parents.

"Gonna seriously consider bringing them in as territory folk."

"Huh? That could work."

"Yeah, they're the pros."

It was worth pondering deeply. The commute from Gapyeong might be tricky... but maybe not. They're in temp housing now anyway. Definitely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠food for thought.

"I'll look into temp spots."

"Do that."

After chatting more with Dad, I headed to the forge where Si-yeon was causing chaos.

"Yo, witch blacksmith."

"Who're you calling witch?!"

"You. The lunatic witch dreaming of being Transfer Student Typhoon right in front of me."

"Fair. I might be a bit unhinged."

Si-yeon coolly owns it. Hard to argue.

"So, how's the forging going?"

"Duh, perfectly. Check this."

She proudly hands over a sword. I was genuinely shocked.

Her Burtiya Blacksmithing skill was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already at 5. What the hell?

"What are you?"

"Till I become Steel Man, I'm all-in on blacksmithing!"

I could actually see it happening. Appearance-wise, anyway. "How'd you infuse water energy?"

"Wait, it actually worked?!"

"Yeah, this sword..."

Without Observation, she couldn't see the stats, so I explained.

"Whoa, jackpot!"

She swung it, and a bluish aura coated the blade. Water energy, no doubt. Could I infuse fire? But I lacked fire spells like Fire Arrow. Maybe my talent really was rock bottom. Mom crafts items, Si-yeon too, Dad multiplies wild ginseng... and me? Jack of all trades, master of none.

"Sigh, life."

Reality hit hard. Then Hoya hopped on my shoulder and licked my face.

"Right! I've got you. Ain't that right, Hoya?"

Hoya nodded toward the treats, chin up. Shut up and hand over snacks.

I offered tribute. Meow! Nyaaang meow meow!

"Quiet and let's hunt?"

Meow!

Yep. Gotta obey Hoya. Lately, she felt like the real owner.

Meow!

"We're going!"

"Si-yeon, make weapons for the family too."

"No worries. One for you too, bro."

"Thanks. Off to gather mats."

"Cool."

Amazed at her usefulness, I let Hoya drag me into the forest by the scruff... sort of.

"Hoya, this isn't troll territory."

Not the troll yard—I named it that since trolls spawned there. But today was different. Hoya the forest guide led here.

"Eerie."

Had I ever said "eerie" out loud? Probably not. It's one of those book words you rarely use. The air felt chilling, the ground crumbly.

"Soil's... bone-dry?"

Island soil was fertile—crops thrived everywhere, even troll yard. Not here.

"Weather's autumn-like..."

Definitely fall, like troll yard. But the chill? Winter-level.

"What's here?"

Nyaang.

Hoya nodded. Something was. Deeper in, movement caught my eye.

"Huh?"

A man with flashy blond hair in noble garb. Human? Or formerly human. No living skin looks like that.

"That's... an undead."

Luckily, easy guess—TV and movies drilled it in. Undead: dead but not dead. Humanoid was weird. Observation dropped a bombshell.

"Herthian?"

The undead's name included "Herthian."