Give a Little, Get a Lot

The black coffin etched into the back of my left hand at least had a design of its own — some distinctive look to it.

But what was showing on that screen? Design didn't even enter the picture.

"That's just a feather."

"Even so, it's a thirty-Tar item. Can't be helped. At least the performance is solid, so we should count ourselves lucky, no?"

I rolled my eyes across the display, hunting for whatever the effect actually was, but of course this godforsakenly unhelpful product slot didn't even have a description field.

Explanation or no explanation, Chaeyeon was absorbed in studying the tattoo with open fascination, so I asked instead.

"For thirty Tar, it can't have a real effect to begin with. What kind of ability is it?"

"Instant acceleration. Hmm — to put it in the language of this world, unlike Master's, which is passive, this one would be classified as active."

Active. Something about that sat wrong, so I pushed further.

"Wait. That means there's a cooldown too, doesn't it?"

"That's right. But it's not particularly long. A few minutes at most?"

"...When a fight breaks out, it's over inside ten minutes every single time. And you're telling me a few minutes isn't long? Are you kidding me?"

I frowned at the crow, then — deciding the ability itself was still decent — let the tension out of my brow and said,

"But then the duration shouldn't be bad, at least."

"Ahem. Ahem."

She cleared her throat instead of answering, working her neck. My brow creased again. I glared. Catching the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠look, she answered carefully, watching my face.

"...Three seconds."

"I must have misheard that."

"You heard correctly. Three seconds."

I smoothed my expression blank and picked up a dumbbell lying on the floor nearby.

"This birdbrain is straight-up scamming me now."

"No! There really ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was no other choice! Below fifty Tar, things that are actually useful are extremely rare — and if I'd brought something with side effects, you'd have complained about that too!"

"So this is the best you could do?"

"...Yes."

I sighed, set the dumbbell down, and waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine. Just raise it to fifty Tar or more — no, seventy Tar or more. I'll throw in my own money."

"Um... Master? I'm sorry, but for body-adhesion products like Marks, that kind of thing — pooling extra funds — isn't possible."

"Unbelievable. Just one thing after another."

Then Chaeyeon, who'd been turning it over carefully beside me, poked me and spoke up.

"Oppa. I think it's fine?"

"Fine how? Are you not thinking straight because you skipped breakfast?"

She didn't flinch at the cynical retort. She just smiled faintly and answered.

"I was surprised too when I first heard three seconds, but thinking about it again... I feel like it should be enough."

I turned to stare at her over that incomprehensible claim.

"A window that ends in a single blink is enough?"

"Yes. If I set my stance and activate it, I should still be able to get at least one solid thrust in with the sword."

"Which means you only get one proper attack. How is that enough?"

She hesitated a moment, then rose on her tiptoes and whispered by my ear.

"If the cooldown is long and the activation window is short... it makes me curious just how strong the ability itself must be."

"....."

Well, look at that.

A girl who looked like she'd never touched a game in her life had just made a pretty sharp deduction.

As Chaeyeon looked up at me, eyes sparkling with anticipation, I turned it over in silence for a few seconds, then asked the crow.

"One question. In this tattoo product category, what's the cheapest price right now?"

"Uh... exactly ten Tar."

That was enough. I made the call without even asking what that bargain-bin tattoo actually was.

If two out of three specs on a product costing three times the minimum were so bad you couldn't look at them with your eyes open, then the entire value was concentrated into the remaining one.

Which meant this Feather tattoo had the full weight of thirty zombies' worth of value poured exclusively into speed.

The moment the purchase locked in, a black feather began to slowly etch itself onto the milky, faintly gleaming back of Chaeyeon's right hand.

And then a speculation drifted through my mind.

"This tattoo — you didn't recommend it because it's somehow related to you, did you?"

It was a feather, and black at that, so the thought was inevitable. But the crow denied it without missing a beat.

"...Come on, of course not!"

But her answer had been a little slow. Was I imagining it?

I eyed her with a look that said I found her suspicious, but she ignored the gaze and simply watched Chaeyeon with fond amusement as the girl marveled over her new mark.

After that we did a few more minutes of iron in the gym, then headed back to the book cafe.

Chaeyeon had been watching me raise and lower the barbell from behind with a peculiar look, so I needled her about why she wasn't joining in. She put on a show of having muscle soreness from overdoing it last night.

If you're going to say that, don't stand there openly staring.

A little later, after breakfast, we got ready to hit the pharmacy we'd forgotten about yesterday. Chaeyeon kept examining her tattoo from every angle, so I finally took her out to the athletic field.

"Do you know how to activate it?"

"Hmm... no. I just asked, and she said it activates on its own if you generate a clear enough will. But I think I'll need to try it in actual combat."

"You're going to use it in a real fight without practicing first?"

Ridiculous. I shook my head, walked over to the flower bed beside us, picked up a stick of suitable length, and handed it to her.

Then I crooked a finger at her bewildered face.

"Swing it once. Using that tattoo."

"...We don't know how much power it'll have."

"It's just a stick. This'll give you a much better feel for it than flailing at empty air, so just shut up and do it."

She frowned a little, looking back and forth between the stick and me, then — feeling the light, thin weight of it — finally nodded and took her stance.

Even she seemed to figure it was fine at this level.

"...Where should I swing?"

"Anywhere that isn't my face or below the waist."

Just a bit of post-meal exercise. Chaeyeon nodded at my casual words.

The stick — thinner than my pinky finger — slowly came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to bear.

We stood still for a few seconds. I was about to yawn wide and ask when it was going to happen when—

In that instant, her presence twisted.

"...?"

Twisted, literally.

Not the composed state of calmly watching her opponent and precisely piercing the target.

For a single flash, I saw it: the emotion of a body given an unnatural force, slipping out of control, panicking.

"Wh-what?"

Supernatural power flooded her muscles and nerves. The hand gripping the stick, the arm holding it, the legs planted on the ground — every action accelerated as if someone had hit fast-forward, all of it happening in a fraction of a second.

And then the stick, instead of the chest she'd aimed for, shot toward my face like a bullet on a trajectory that had lost all control.

BAAAANG—!

CRACK—

Unable to withstand the wind pressure, the stick split apart right in front of my eyes and scraped past both my cheeks.

"....."

"....."

I watched the scene in silence, then said one thing.

"From now on, you're practicing that for at least an hour. We don't leave until I say you're done."

"...Yes."

Chaeyeon quietly set down the stick and nodded.

The experience of nearly getting wrecked while trying to kill some boredom was fairly novel.

The shock was one thing, but more than that, the speed had been beyond anything I'd imagined. With a little exaggeration, it was enough to slap every Olympic fencer on the planet across the face and still have room to spare.

A high school girl producing a speed that would take tens of thousands of hours of effort and training to achieve was absurd enough — but more important was the recoil, or rather the lack of it.

I kneaded Chaeyeon's arm muscles for a moment — still perfectly fine after generating that speed — then turned to the crow.

"No side effects even if she keeps using it, right? Not just now, but ongoing?"

"I keep telling you not to worry. The principle of that Feather is a higher-dimensional formula that manifests new muscle fibers to assist the original ones, channeling the rebound completely naturally..."

"Got it. We're leaving."

"Ah! Wait a second! You asked the question and now you're walking off without even hearing the full—"

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠closed the laptop and left the book cafe.

Chaeyeon still hadn't fully adapted to the tattoo, but she'd insisted she was going no matter what, so I decided to just take her along.

Kang Haejun briefly raised a hand and offered to go in her place, but one look at Chaeyeon's expression and he quietly sat back down.

As for Soeun... Yejin had been dragging her all over the place, running wild experiments with heating-related work, so I hadn't even seen her face for a while.

Still, it was kind of admirable that she was trying all sorts of things to conserve resources (read: corpses), so I didn't bother stopping her.

"Oppa! Be careful out there!"

When she greets me that diligently every single time, there's really nothing I can say.

She'd been gathering firewood by the wall next to the main building, chatting, and when we opened the door and came out she hurriedly stood and waved.

I waved back and called out.

"If you need anything, tell me! I'll grab it for you!"

"No! Nothing I need right now! Except Jiyun's medicine is almost out!"

"Got it."

That was the first thing I planned to get at the pharmacy anyway, so no issue.

Soeun's scrapes and cuts had already been treated long ago with the bandages and disinfectant we'd stored at the book cafe.

Beside me, Chaeyeon was flouncing around, proudly showing off her Feather tattoo. She called out to Soeun, who was looking at her with a chilly expression.

"Hey, Kang Soeun! Look at this! I even put on full bicycle pads so I won't wipe out and look pathetic like you! Pretty good, right?"

"...Honestly, I'd rather you just come back injured."

Chaeyeon beamed right past Soeun's words, latched onto my arm, and urged me to go.

She started rubbing against me, saying it felt cool now, and I peeled her off in disgust. As I turned my head, an abandoned bicycle caught my eye.

"...Want to just take that and ride over?"

"Huh?"

A leisurely bike outing with a coquettish high school girl in the middle of the apocalypse.

It wasn't half bad.