Ultra Super Cool Weapon
“Looks like the next customer’s here.”
The orc spoke without even glancing back.
“What? Customer? Goddamn it, it’s those clueless brats again!”
Only then did the dwarf in the skirt finally notice Solomon and Maya. She frowned openly, making no effort to hide her displeasure.
“Brats, this isn’t a place for the likes of you! No matter what I say, you never listen. At this rate I might as well hire a damn professional to keep you out!”
The dwarf spat a string of curses. At the sight, the orc in the white suit turned his head.
“Forgive the master’s rudeness, colleague.”
“...Colleague?”
“Hotel Snark is a small place.”
The orc continued. Solomon quietly swallowed.
“Whether you like it or not, you learn to tell apart the familiar faces, the strangers, and the new ones. Especially when someone draws as much attention as you have.”
“...Have I really done anything to earn that kind of attention?”
“Well. They call me Gunter.”
“Solomon.”
After the brief exchange of names, Maya beside him murmured the orc’s name under her breath.
“The Gospel Evangelist!”
…Gospel? Is he talking about the church kind?
Hotel Snark overflows with legends and heavyweights of every shape and size. And for the most part, they’re all psychopaths.
Room 1004’s long-term resident, the Gospel Evangelist Gunter, is no exception. An orc preaching the gospel? you ask.
Shockingly, anyone who finds his holy hammer staring them in the face ends up shedding tears of joy while hearing a gospel they’ve never believed in their entire lives.
The orc spun the very same holy hammer of gospel around with one hand before slamming it down. Thud. Even that casual motion made the floor tremble. It was impossible to guess how heavy the thing truly was.
…It really was one hell of a psychotic gospel.
“You’ve worked hard as always. I’ll be counting on you after the next sermon as well.”
“Hmph. Only if it’s worth it.”
The dwarf answered curtly. The orc in the white suit adjusted his grip on the hammer and turned away without another word.
The exact moment he passed, Solomon stole a glance at his profile.
Strong.
The pressure he gave off, the sheer dignity, the overwhelming difference you could feel just by looking at him. Solomon carefully turned his head to watch the orc’s back as he walked away.
Gunter’s retreating figure, completely exposed from behind. That imposing back.
…
After a moment, Solomon let out a hollow laugh.
He couldn’t see a single opening.
Even though the man’s back should have been at its most defenseless, there wasn’t the slightest gap. It was as if he had eyes planted on the back of his head.
A veritable mountain.
Unconsciously, a few drops of cold sweat rolled down Solomon’s skin. The overwhelming gap in power was so vast he couldn’t even imagine challenging it.
He had only lightly imagined it, yet bloody psycho angels playing gospel metal above his head seemed to flicker in his vision.
Room 1004… so that’s one of the top-tier monsters even inside Hotel Snark.
How much stronger would he need to become to close that distance? How many more levels would it take?
Honestly, he couldn’t even guess.
“What, you’re still loitering around? Let me make this clear. Whether you’re a fixer from Hotel Snark or whatever the hell—”
“She told me to show you this.”
Solomon approached the grumbling dwarf and held out the item.
The reward Yuria had given him—an automatic crossbow modification ticket usable at the Deadlock Guild’s forge. It even took the form of a Geas promissory note.
“Ha, another idiot who got scammed hard and now comes waving some ticket or whatever…”
The dwarf in the skirt snatched the note without even looking at it and immediately tried to rip it apart with all her strength.
The instant those thick, muscular hands moved to tear the paper in half—
She froze.
Her eyes rolled back. The muscles in her cheeks began to twitch violently.
Before long, countless veins bulged across both hands gripping the paper. It was obviously, unmistakably abnormal.
“G… Ge…”
Her lips moved with great difficulty. By now the promissory note in her hands was radiating seven rainbow colors like light passing through a prism.
It wasn’t the kind of pretty light you could simply admire. The dwarf’s own pupils were glowing with the exact same rainbow hue.
Even her lips, nostrils, ears—every orifice on her body began to shine with that iridescent light.
The light itself was a warning radiance.
“A… As… Geas…! Ack, agaga, giiiiaaaagagagak!!”
Geas. Finally the three syllables struggled out from the corner of the dwarf’s mouth. Immediately afterward she began convulsing as if struck by electricity.
For a moment, every sound in the forge vanished.
The heavy clang of hammers, the sound of molten iron being poured into molds, the hiss of steam as glowing metal was quenched—
The sooty breathing, the metallic screech of grinding sparks, every noise that should have filled the workshop—
Everything stopped.
As if the forge itself had suddenly held its breath.
By now the dwarf was vomiting rainbow-colored blood from every hole and then some, retching up rainbow vomit from her guts.
“Kuhk, huk, huuuurk! Ack, ehk, ehhk!!”
“Wow. That’s one hell of an avant-garde rainbow shitshow.”
“Uuuup, urgh, geeehok!!”
Calm returned in the blink of an eye. The dwarf workers in the forge each regained their voices and threw themselves back into their tasks.
“Kraaak! You son of a bitch! You should’ve said it was a Geas from the start!”
“You should’ve listened to the whole damn sentence from the start.”
Solomon answered with the rough language he usually tried to suppress. There was no benefit in looking weak here.
“Fine, damn it. A promise is a promise! So, what weapon are you trying to modify?”
Without a word, Solomon pulled out the automatic crossbow he kept in his quick-loader belt.
“It’s the Nightfall XR-10 model from the Blade Forge workshop.”
The dwarf in the skirt identified the model name instantly as she watched the weapon unfold into its mechanical expansion structure with a metallic click.
“Ha! You’re going to modify something this mediocre here? That’s like putting a pearl necklace on a pig.”
“Um, Solomon.”
Watching the exchange, Maya carefully spoke up.
“Like she said, maybe it would be better to prepare a higher-grade weapon first and then request the modification. We could wait until later. As you know, the value of that note is…”
“......”
Solomon remained silent for a moment. Logically, it made more sense to acquire better equipment first and then have it modified.
But then, Elf broker Yuria’s words floated through his mind.
Before your next request, please make use of the Nightfall automatic crossbow you are currently using.
The Nightfall automatic crossbow he was currently using. Before the next request.
Yuria had specifically pointed out the exact weapon when she handed over the modification ticket. She hadn’t told him to buy new equipment. She had even clearly designated the timing.
Judging from everything she had shown so far, she wouldn’t have said it without a reason.
“No. We’re doing it with this one.”
“Tch, figured you’d say that…”
“Is there a problem?”
“Hmph. Not really.”
The dwarf blacksmith grumbled as if she had expected his answer.
“By the laws of the Geas, I swear upon the name of our dwarf god, the god of the great mountain, the mines, and all metal, the god of the furnace, the smelter, and the anvil—Dvergr!”
Her grumbling quickly transformed into a solemn vow.
“Our Deadlock Guild, in exchange for the ancient debt’s dissolution, shall carry out a Grade-A modification on the Nightfall XR-10 automatic crossbow according to the contract!”
At the same time, something astonishing happened. The modification ticket in the dwarf’s hand once again radiated rainbow light, then crumbled into particles like ash and scattered away.
“Hoo, no matter how many times I do this crap, I never get used to it.”
Having finished the oath, the dwarf in the skirt grumbled again.
“Right then. Let me explain our forge’s Grade-A modification.”
She snatched Solomon’s Nightfall automatic crossbow as if stealing it. The movement was visible, but Solomon didn’t bother resisting and simply let her take it.
“First. All additional specifications and adjustments will be performed with one hundred percent autonomy according to the Deadlock Guild’s technical philosophy. Separate customer requests or demands are completely impossible.”
It wasn’t particularly surprising. Only that level of stubbornness would earn the title of master craftsman.
“Second. Since a Grade-A modification involves the technical honor of both the Deadlock Guild and the weapon forge, you are obligated to form a ‘Geas’ prohibiting transfer, sale, or technology leakage to third parties.”
“Like this current deal, you mean.”
“...Yes.”
The dwarf’s face twisted as she continued.
“Third. The modified weapon will officially become a ‘work’ of the Deadlock Guild and will receive the exact same treatment as any other piece produced by this forge. Service, maintenance, inspection, upkeep—nothing will be an exception.”
“Understood.”
Hearing it laid out like this, the terms truly left nothing to be desired.
“So, how long will the modification take?”
“About ten minutes and nineteen seconds.”
“......”
“Nine minutes and seven seconds of that is for preparing the Geas. I’ll get the ritual ready, so wait a moment.”
“...What?”
Before Solomon could respond to the absurdity, the dwarf had already left her spot.
Wait, that means only one minute and twelve seconds are left for the actual work. Who the hell is she trying to screw over?
Simple subtraction that even an elementary schooler could do.
For all the grand talk about honor and masterpieces, the whole process was ridiculously fast. So fast that the trust he had built up until now nearly evaporated.
Was it not as big a deal as she made it sound?
It was then.
People have a few misconceptions about masters. That a master calligrapher doesn’t care what brush he uses, or that a potter will smash his work countless times until he’s satisfied and never compromises…
Just as the narrator in his head began to speak as if it had been waiting for this moment—
“Oh dear, I almost forgot.”
The dwarf who had left to prepare the Geas reappeared and said,
“This crossbow seems to be magically linked with your quick-loader belt. Hand it over. I’ll tune that too while I’m at it.”
Come to think of it, there was a spell on the quick-loader belt that let him swap cartridges with a simple wrist snap.
“Thanks.”
“Hmph, no need for thanks.”
The dwarf answered sourly.
“A Geas is a two-way street. In exchange for you upholding your oath, we stake the technical honor of the guild and forge. Wouldn’t want to do a sloppy job and end up with a rainbow nosebleed, would we?”
“Hearing that from someone who just had one makes me trust you twice as much.”
In truth, the virtue of a master isn’t that they refuse to compromise. It’s that they know exactly where they should compromise.
Along with the voice in his head, the dwarf in the skirt disappeared with the automatic crossbow and quick-loader belt.
About eight minutes later, she returned carrying a scroll that looked like ancient Egyptian papyrus.
“Hehe, classic dwarf-style Geas. Simple and nice.”
Maya burst out laughing when she saw it. Solomon didn’t understand why at first, but he soon realized what she found so funny.
“Hmph. Don’t lump us together with those pathetic gnomes.”
The dwarf grumbled sullenly as she unrolled the scroll.
Dwarves understand the virtues of a good contract. Simple and clear.
Unlike the gnome or goblin style contracts that cram dozens of pages with tiny text like a worm crawling across the page, adding clause after clause.
“If you wish for the modification, swear on your soul and give consent.”
“Ah, uh…”
The solemnity felt completely at odds with the ridiculous text.
“I consent.”
The moment Solomon answered, he felt a pressure as if something had seized his heart.
“Good. The oath is now established.”
The dwarf answered calmly and tore the scroll in half.
After ripping it, she handed Solomon the part that read “HEY!! IMMA TURN YER WEAPON INTO AN ULTRA SUPER COOL WEAPON!!”
She kept the half that said “SO DONT YA EVER SHOW IT TO NO OTHER PEEPLE!!!” and left once again.
About two minutes after she disappeared, the same dwarf returned.
“Here. The modification is complete.”
She handed back the Nightfall automatic crossbow and quick-loader belt Solomon had given her.
It was an absurdly swift process.
Moreover, when he actually received it, he couldn’t honestly tell what had changed. While he maintained a calm expression, it was Maya who broke the silence.
“Oh my god…!”
“Hmph. At least this young lady has eyes better than a knothole. I suppose I can leave the annoying explanation to her?”
The dwarf snorted as she looked at the excited Maya.
…Can she actually see the difference?
In the span of barely a minute.
The way Maya stared at the crossbow and belt that had been taken and returned like lightning was completely different.
Her eyes changed?
Her eyes were different. Not as a metaphor—optically. It was a retinal modification procedure known as the Kaleidoscope. The previous Solomon had known that fact.
Previous.
Once again that word seized Solomon’s mind. The Veil family, the bastard child, born in the red-light district. The filial son and his mother. Several keywords gathered like a puzzle, waiting to be pieced together.
The reverie lasted only a moment.
As they left the underground passage of the Deadlock Guild, Maya chattered like an excited child and revealed exactly why she was making such a fuss.
The phrase “ultra super cool weapon” had not been an exaggeration.
He was so eager to test it that he could barely contain himself.