The Dead (2)

It really was Orichalcum. That single confirmation was more than enough.

Going forward, it seemed wise to add Orichalcum to my bartering catalog alongside the Adult Mandrake Roots.

Though since it's an unrefined ore, it probably won't be universally popular.

Unlike an Adult Mandrake Root, which anyone could simply ingest for immediate miraculous gains, raw Orichalcum was notoriously difficult to forge and handle. At most, average users would employ it for heat dissipation and thermal stability, much like Princess Chaeng-gu had done with her broadcast device. Still, since it was universally classified as a precious mineral, trading it in measured quantities would serve me well.

A true sports supporter needed backbone. What was the point of calling yourself a fan if you jumped ship the second your team looked vulnerable?

In all my years observing sports enthusiasts, few ever voluntarily renounced their allegiance. The rare exceptions usually happened when front offices committed nuclear-grade betrayals—like tossing aside a club legend who embodied the soul of the franchise simply because they were strapped for cash.

I wonder if there are players like that in this world, too?

Not just franchise icons, but generational talents who defined an entire era. Yet this world was inhabited by diverse species, with demons and elves enjoying absurdly long lifespans. Because their perception of an "era" might span centuries, the concept felt somewhat ambiguous to me.

So that was the gist of it.

Because demons and elves possessed such vast longevity, their physical prime stretched across many decades, giving them steady, prolonged careers. Humans, on the other hand, burnt bright with staggering peak performances, making them the most dangerous contenders when it came to snatching championships.

I suppose that's why there aren't massive outcries about biological inequality.

Every species brought distinct strengths and weaknesses to the pitch. Seeing this reminded me that wherever sentient beings gathered, human nature—or rather, mortal nature—remained fundamentally the same.

"Hm?"

I was idly scrolling through the highlight reels posted by Princess Chaeng-gu when a particular thread caught my eye.

It wasn't particularly biting bait, but my curiosity was piqued, so I clicked right in.

That sort of challenge was child's play. The world I came from had an internet culture that transcended simple community boards. It was a digital sea teeming with every conceivable variety of off-the-wall meme. All I needed to do was pluck one of the classics.

Honestly, how could anyone resist? You wouldn't be a red-blooded man if you held back. Especially when there were diverse otherworldly races involved—it was impossible not to be curious.

...Excluding dwarves and beastfolk, of course.

I shook my head violently as the hauntingly vivid imagery from that fateful encounter flashed in my mind. Physical wounds could be knit back together with an Elixir, but psychic trauma was beyond the reach of even the most potent alchemical draughts.

In the brief moments I had spent browsing elsewhere, Chae-yu had gifted another goal to the opposition. Having surrendered a goal in the opening thirty seconds, they had held out for barely ten minutes before their net was breached a second time.

The person diligently uploading these clips was Princess Chaeng-gu. Even as her beloved club bled goals, she kept posting with stubborn determination. Her mental fortitude was genuinely terrifying.

Or perhaps her mind hadn't survived intact—she had broken past absolute despair into pure, detached enlightenment.

It was a pitiful sight, but there was nothing I could do from where I sat. All I could offer was keeping up with the videos she painstakingly shared. Knowing next to nothing about formal tactical systems, I was purely a casual observer.

Aren't they playing way too defensively?

From the video clips alone, it looked as though Chae-yu was frantically turtling around their own box. It would be far better if they embraced what I had joked about earlier—stop sweating three conceded goals and just assemble a squad capable of slamming four into the other net.

Well, as I had acknowledged, there wasn't a single thing I could influence beyond cheering from the sidelines.

Not a chance in hell. Unless someone offered an item of genuine quality in exchange, no transaction was happening. Furthermore, I couldn't help but look at new fixed-handle users through a somewhat cynical lens. The gonics I had traded with previously had extended unconditional kindness to me right from the start.

Above all, since most run-of-the-mill survival supplies could be purchased through the integrated auction house, I intended to be quite selective.

It was still too early to give up all hope. With the match rolling into halftime, an endless barrage of sarcastic banter flooded the gallery. It was a familiar, comforting flavor of internet culture. Chuckling softly, I skimmed through a few of the funniest posts.

Whoever had observed it first was right—truly hopeless sports teams possessed a singular, tragic aura. When that despair was processed through gallows humor, it yielded pure comedic gold.

"Wait, what?"

An unexpected prompt interrupted my casual reading. KingLeor, the very man who bickered ceaselessly with Princess Chaeng-gu at every opportunity, had pinged me for a trade.

Blinking in surprise, I tapped accept to see what was going on. Had it been an absolute stranger, I might have hesitated, but he was a regular handle whose presence was familiar.

It seemed he had been angling for Orichalcum all along. His tone was noticeably deferential. I had already guessed his underlying motivation, but I played along anyway.

He had spent all that time teasing her relentlessly on the boards, yet on the inside, he had been burning with jealousy. Still, I appreciated his honesty. The man was simply a diehard ultra; beneath the fandom posturing, he wasn't malicious. His occasional jabs at Princess Chaeng-gu fell well within standard banter between rival football supporters.

Who do you think you're fleecing? Beat it.

...I felt tempted to retort, but I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠swallowed the words. I had no idea what useful treasures he might actually have in his stash. KingLeor had likely thrown out the jersey offer as a half-serious probe anyway, as he showed no visible disappointment when I declined.

There was a long pause before a reply arrived. Being completely ignorant of supernatural sorcery, it was an entirely sincere question on my part.

This was a classic win-win proposition. Without hesitation, I finalized the trade.

A persistent, hands-free illumination tool would be an invaluable asset whenever I surveyed the depths of subterranean caverns. Since I couldn't cast spells myself, acquiring a self-contained enchantment was a massive boon.

The channel closed. I promptly checked the contents of the transaction window.

"Wait a second."

This fellow—no, this demon gentleman—had slipped in an official Leor athletic jersey after all. While Chae-yu's kit featured a pristine white base, Leor's jersey was also primarily white, distinguished by vertical stripes running down the fabric. Furthermore, rather than a stag crest, their breast bore the embroidered emblem of a hawk.

You've got to admire the sheer dedication.

Smirking faintly, I tucked the jersey neatly away into my storage inventory. I refrained from uploading a verification post on the boards. If Princess Chaeng-gu saw me flaunting a rival jersey, she might feel genuinely betrayed. Even if we had never met face-to-face, I had no desire to wound someone who had shown me so much kindness.

It appeared the break had wrapped up while we were finalizing the deal. And with the opening whistle of the second half, Princess Chaeng-gu's remaining sanity shattered into fine powder.

Perplexed by the thread title, I clicked inside, only to discover that Chae-yu had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠conceded yet another goal almost immediately after the restart.

The comment section descended into riotous pandemonium. Naturally, the crowning jewel belonged to KingLeor.

The man had an exquisite talent for rubbing salt into fresh wounds.

In association football, a three-goal deficit signified utter domination. Prudence dictated throwing in the towel, pulling the starters, and preparing for the next fixture.

Well, who knows. Maybe they really will put four past them.

Princess Chaeng-gu was sure to stick it out to the bitter end. Wishing her the best, I kept refreshing her feed to catch every development.

Whether by sheer collective yearning or divine intervention, the impossible suddenly began to stir.

They snatched a goal back.

Not content with that, they buried a second shortly after, hot on the opposition's heels.

They actually tied the match. And then...

Against all probability, a genuine miracle had taken place on the pitch.