A New Weapon
The next day, in the black market of the Upper Slums.
“That’ll be six thousand five hundred crowns altogether.”
Solomon held out the bag. The moment Maya saw the thick bundles of cash inside, her jaw dropped.
“Three thousand is for the crossbow. Use the rest to get me gear in that price range.”
“Wait, where the hell did you get this much money in a single day?”
“The pig pulled off a massive spectacle. A real shitshow.”
Solomon answered flatly.
“And things got a little complicated, so I’ll need to stop by Ghosttown.”
“Ghosttown? Don’t tell me you’re heading to Hotel Snark?!”
“That’s right.”
“…….”
Maya fell silent for a moment. She didn’t try to talk him out of it or tell him to reconsider. She simply seemed lost in thought before finally speaking again.
“Wait here a second.”
With that, Maya vanished. Some time later, she returned and began showing Solomon the items she had brought, explaining each one.
“This is the Ghostwhale Bone Blade.”
The Ghostwhale is an apex predator that drifts through the Sea of the Dead, devouring lost spirits…
A masterpiece that anchors the impossible ghost bone—specifically that of a whale—into the material world.
Even without hearing the grandiose name, it was impossible not to recognize the blade’s uniqueness the moment he laid eyes on it.
“It’s an excellent weapon on its own, and it can cut non-material entities like the spirits of Ghosttown. It’s pretty expensive.”
Solomon silently took the Ghostwhale Bone Blade that Maya offered. An inexplicable chill immediately raced down his spine.
It is not the edge of cheap metal. Within it flows a deep, dark current—like a whale gliding through the ocean’s abyss, slicing through black waters…
The sensation of standing before an indescribably colossal predator at the bottom of an endless abyss.
“Looks like it costs a fortune.”
“One hundred million crowns.”
“Did you already forget how much I brought?”
When Solomon spoke in disbelief, Maya simply shrugged with the same expression.
“Six thousand five hundred crowns is everything you have. And three thousand of that is the outstanding balance on the crossbow you need to pay back immediately.”
“Did you already forget how generous I was?”
“…….”
“Besides, you’ve grown big enough to be summoned to Hotel Snark. This much of an investment is nothing.”
Solomon remained silent. Regardless of the dramatic description, he needed to figure out exactly how this weapon functioned in game terms.
At the very least, it was a magic weapon. And no ordinary one at that.
Unique item… Could it be Legendary? No, even that seems like a stretch.
There was no purple or golden glow indicating rarity. Without a clear item description, figuring out its performance was the first order of business.
“Next are these. Well, they don’t compare to the Ghostwhale Bone Blade.”
And Maya’s prepared goods weren’t finished yet.
“A gas mask that can resist the poisonous air of Ghosttown, and a new set of clothes.”
“New clothes?”
“The latest tactical coat from the Wearetech Guild. Model name—Nightweaver Coat.”
The Wearetech Guild started as an underwear manufacturer. These days, there is no type of ‘clothing’ they don’t handle—from industrial equipment to military-grade defensive armor.
Never mind the fact that their top-selling product is still lingerie designed to ignite passionate nights between men and women.
She carefully handed over the mask and the black coat. It was light. At the same time, a steel-like weight that contradicted that lightness danced along its hem.
“The outer layer is a composite weave with stab-resistant coating and dual shock-absorbing materials. The inner lining is magic-infused fiber engraved with spells. It even carries Silver’s Grace.”
“Silver’s Grace?”
“It’s a cantrip that activates automatically according to the wearer’s movements. Nothing too flashy, but it has beneficial effects that reduce noise and presence while making movement lighter.”
Stab resistance, shock absorption, and even magic fiber—functional clothing that sounded far from ordinary at first listen.
“……Thanks.”
“Hehe, make sure to keep using our market, big shot.”
Maya, dressed in her leather jacket, smiled as she spoke.
“Out of all the guilds and workshops in Downtown’s 20th District, there isn’t a single item this Maya can’t get her hands on!”
At Maya’s words, Solomon quietly nodded. Someone he could trust and rely on. Even though she was merely a trading partner in the black market, talking with Maya strangely lightened his heart.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yeah, I’ll be waiting.”
With those words, Solomon gathered the equipment Maya had given him and turned away. After leaving the black market with a lighter heart, it was time to head toward the heavier burden.
A heavy man was waiting there.
“Mmm, munch munch… You’re here.”
Outside the tavern, in broad daylight no less, the sight of the pig wasn’t exactly pleasant. He was holding two double cheeseburgers in each hand—meaning four burgers total, two per hand—and was devouring them.
“I thought you were on a one-meal-a-day diet. Are you already stuffing down that single meal?”
“No, this is just a little snack because I was feeling peckish… And besides, everyone knows french fries are what actually make you fat! I held back on the fries!”
Roche said, simultaneously shoving two double cheeseburgers into his gaping mouth.
“Yeah, I’m actually tearing up. Shut up and let’s go see the medium.”
“D-did you bring everything you need?”
“Everything except the fries.”
Solomon answered as if he had given up.
A special weapon capable of striking spiritual bodies and a gas mask that could resist Ghosttown’s miasma. He had gathered all the necessary supplies.
“Munch munch, alright then, let’s go. I might as well get some exercise for my diet…”
“Didn’t you say it was right in front?”
“Hey, walking is hardcore cardio at my weight!”
With that, Roche waddled across the Lower District streets, past the slum housing and toward the place known as the “Crossroads of the Dead.”
It was the cemetery district located in the Lower District.
Though it was called a cemetery, it was far from the quiet and solemn scene one might imagine. It was practically indistinguishable from a landfill. The only difference was that the trash here consisted of human corpses.
“Huff, huff…”
They hadn’t even walked far, yet the pig Roche was already pouring sweat like rain. Finding the sight ridiculous, Solomon added,
“This is pure curiosity, but what happens to your successor when you kick the bucket?”
“What?! Huff, you, you bastard… Huff!”
“No, I don’t mean any harm. I’m genuinely just curious…”
No matter how you looked at it, the guy didn’t seem long for this world. Then again, the fact that his pancreas was still holding out might actually be proof of how tough he was.
“T-there it is!”
Roche pointed. It was a shop standing alone in front of the cemetery. Blackout curtains covered every window, allowing no light whatsoever.
“Huff, huff… G-go on ahead, partner. I’ll rest here a bit and catch up later…”
It was a death flag he had seen many times before.
“If you die, your successor… Never mind. See you later—if you’re still alive.”
With a sigh of resignation, Solomon headed straight for the shop Roche had pointed out. A sign reading Hillhouse hung at the entrance.
“Excuse me.”
Solomon carefully opened the door and stepped inside. Despite the complete absence of light, the shop’s interior was impeccably organized—far too clean to believe it was located in the Lower District slums.
“Welcome.”
A voice came from deeper within. It belonged to a young woman.
“You’re the fixer Solomon that the pig mentioned, right?”
“Yes.”
Solomon nodded and walked forward. In the center of the dark room sat a woman before a crystal ball, like a fortune teller in a mystic shop.
“I hear you want to enter Ghosttown.”
“I have business at Hotel Snark.”
“Ah, Hotel Snark? Looks like you’ve made quite the name for yourself.”
Made a name for himself. There it was again.
Hotel Snark is the major league that countless fixers and contractors in this city dream of reaching.
The woman giggled with amusement. Solomon silently observed her. Even in the darkness, her appearance was relatively clear.
“Nice to meet you, future big shot. I’m the medium Adina.”
What stood out most was her corpse-pale, dark skin. Even with the hood of a fortune teller, another unmistakable feature protruded—sharply pointed ears.
She’s a dark elf.
For Solomon right now, that didn’t particularly matter.
“Oh my.”
It was then.
“You’re hiding quite a vicious-looking weapon at your waist.”
As she spoke, the elf’s gaze turned toward Solomon’s belt. Without a word, he drew the Ghostwhale Bone Blade and showed it to her. For a brief moment, an unusual gleam flashed in her eyes.
An unusual gleam…?
No further information available.
At the same time, the voice in his head refused to provide any more details.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not really.”
The medium Adina shook her head.
“You know what entering Ghosttown means, right?”
“Yes.”
“Just to be clear, I’m not talking about Ghosttown itself.”
“Then?”
“I’m talking about the hotel.”
She continued, her voice carrying both the mystery and ominousness befitting a medium.
“To be honest, simply passing through Ghosttown isn’t that difficult. But the moment you set foot in that hotel…”
“Many things become irreversible.”
“…….”
Solomon remained silent. He had already steeled himself to some extent.
“I know.”
“Then we can make this quick. You’re also quite lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“The most skilled ‘guide’ in a long time has just returned.”
“The most skilled guide?”
“Someone so capable that even the Five Great Families of Uptown would personally invite him.”
Solomon fell silent in disbelief. Downtown was one thing, but the Five Great Families of Uptown? There had to be a limit to exaggeration.
Even Solomon knew how much weight and influence those names carried.
In fact, in a way, Solomon was the one who understood the significance of those names better than anyone.
“Come with me.”
Regardless, the medium Adina stood up. She immediately opened a trapdoor hidden beneath a carpet and crossed into the passage leading underground. Into the darkness without a single candle.
Solomon silently followed behind her. Then, in what looked like a dimly lit attic filled with darkness, a faintly glowing silhouette caught his eye.
“This is the Fairy of the Morning Lake from Avalon.”
There stood a structure of iron bars far smaller than a birdcage, and within it was a light.
What appeared to be light was, upon closer inspection, a living creature that emitted its own glow. Not just any creature, but a tiny humanoid form with wings—
A fairy?
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
The tiny light spoke. It was neither a beautiful voice nor feminine. It was a thick, masculine voice. Upon closer look, he saw long hippie-style hair and a bushy beard.
“You looking down on me because I’m a fairy, you little shit?”
“…….”
Solomon said nothing. No—he couldn’t.
“This is why these mortal brats who still smell like their mother’s milk…”
The fairy pulled something out. It was an incredibly small pouch, so tiny it was hard to see even by fairy standards. It looked like a medicine bag used to hold powder—
The fairy scooped some of the powder with his fingertip, brought it to his nose, and snorted it hard. This was clearly not his first or second time.
“Krrgh, now this is fucking magic. What the hell else would you call it?”
The fairy’s wings trembled, then drooped weakly. His eyes were completely glazed over.
“Goddamn Five Great Families! The High Council! Arthur, Nimue, all of you can kindly fuck off to hell! Carpe diem!”
Then, as if suddenly regaining his breath, he shot upright and began breathing heavily.
“He’s the most trustworthy guide among those who can lead you through Ghosttown.”
“……This drug-addict fairy?”
“He may not look it, but his skills are top-tier.”
“Yeah, well said. And as you know, the best deserves the best treatment.”
“…….”
Solomon silently recalled the narrator’s explanation.
Ghosttown was a realm existing on the boundary between life and death. Common sense and physical laws from the outside world did not apply there. Therefore, a ‘guide’ was necessary—someone who understood the logic beyond reason and could prevent one from getting lost.
In that regard, a fairy was the perfect candidate.
Since ancient times, fairies have been the guides of boundaries. Countless fairy tales and legends tell us this.
A kind-hearted fairy will open the path for the lost,
but a mischievous fairy will lead them into an endless maze.
Depending on the fairy’s heart, the same road can become an irreversible crossroads.
That much he could understand. He had seen it in the rulebook, after all.
However, the hippie drug-addict fairy before him felt like he was smashing Solomon’s common sense to pieces with a hammer from the very bottom.
“You’re going right now, yeah? The commission fee is 0.2 grams of ‘Titania’s Breath.’ Oberon’s Breath is trash that only cowards snort.”
The fairy inside the iron bars answered. He looked so free-spirited that he didn’t even seem imprisoned.
“The pig already paid the fee. It includes the cost of the drugs and the ritual to enter Ghosttown.”
The medium Adina added as she watched.
“Shall I prepare the ritual right away?”
“Please do.”
“Then sit on that chair over there and soak your feet in the basin.”
Sure enough, in the darkness sat a lone chair, and at its feet was a basin filled with water.
This is the ritual?
He had expected something grand like chanting spells or performing a shamanic rite. At that moment, the narrator’s voice echoed in his mind.
Water has long symbolized boundaries. The world within water, the world outside water—mystically speaking, it is like a thin membrane separating this world from the next…
“That’s right. Now take off your shoes and put both feet in the water.”
“Done.”
Solomon sat on the chair, removed his shoes, and submerged both feet in the basin. Like taking a foot bath.
Placing your feet in the water means you are standing at the threshold of the other world. In other words, you are no longer setting foot in this world.
The unsolicited TMI actually sounded surprisingly plausible once he heard it.
Therefore, he had no choice but to believe it for now.
Heading into the ‘shadow world’ where matter and flesh held no meaning, alongside this hippie drug-addict fairy.
What made that possible was the power of a medium—the intermediary between the living and the dead.
“What’s next?”
“I need a cat. A very fierce one.”
The medium said.
Cats have been regarded since ancient times as spiritual animals that travel between life and the afterlife.
Next is a cat. Does she keep one here?
At first he had wondered if this was all a scam, but after hearing the narrator, it somehow felt surprisingly legitimate.
“Look into my eyes for a moment.”
Before he knew it, the medium Adina had leaned in right in front of Solomon’s face—close enough to feel her breath.
By the way, where is the cat?
Just as he was about to question it, she spoke. In a far fiercer tone than before.
“Meow.”
“?”
The moment she said that, the world he stood on flipped upside down. His vision spun and flipped over and over like he was riding a roller coaster.
When he came to his senses, the medium was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t even in the secret basement of the shop anymore.
An endless wasteland stretched beyond the horizon.
The sky, which should have been bright daylight, was darker and gloomier than usual. Because the sun was black.
A black sun…
He realized it the instant he saw it. He could also feel the air of death that filled every direction, even through the gas mask.
I’ve arrived in Ghosttown.
He had just stepped onto the boundary between life and death.