Fireball — FinalRealRealRealRealLastWrapUpFinalVersion

I was living the peaceful life of an orphan with nothing past a middle school education. Then, one day—

I had become an Awakened.

Did I just pull an S-rank?!

Dreaming of my great escape from the gutter, I checked my class, and—

The most useless E-rank production class in the world had rolled out the welcome mat.

...So a grimoire is basically a skill book.

Making skill books sounded nice on paper, but a class like this hid a trap. Items were always better when you took them straight from the Tower. You could sweat over E-rank gear all you liked; the axe some orc dropped would still be better. And people were supposed to pay money for garbage like that? Ridiculous. Maybe if it were an A-rank class. An E-rank crafting ability like mine was worth more by not existing at all.

And of course, I make skill books.

You only had to glance at the forums to see what everyone thought of low-grade skill books.

Skill books of D-rank and below were trash you could barely even dispose of. The prevailing opinion was that nothing under C-rank was worth using.

But my class was E-rank.

If I do well, maybe I can crank out a couple of D-rank skill books.

I let out a sigh and sprawled flat on the floor.

...How am I supposed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to live starting next month.

My whole family, slaughtered in a Gate rampage caused by government negligence. A middle school graduate. An orphan. Living in a Gate disaster zone. For those reasons and plenty more, the government had me classified as a "special-grade orphan."

Because of that, the government stipend had been pretty decent.

The second you awaken, they cut the stipend.

I'd thought this was going to be my great reversal. A class like this, I was better off without.

...Do I take on more work?

Even with the stipend, I'd had to work ten hours a day with not a single day off, just to scrape by. How miserable was a life with no stipend going to be?

"Huu."

Feeling the walls close in, I opened my status window. The class name could be a bluff. For all I knew, underneath it was actually some monstrous combat class.

Too soon to tell.

The calm before the storm. Whether I starved to death from here on out would be up to my skills to prove.

"Hm."

Looking only at the class skills, it seemed like an ordinary production type.

...Did I really hit the garbage jackpot?

Grasping at straws, I pulled up the skill description.

A quick look showed that a few blueprints had already unlocked. I picked one at random and tapped it.

"What the hell is this."

The name looked like a college PowerPoint file, and the shock lasted about a second. Then a skill information panel appeared in front of me.

Grade 1?

Mana efficiency and output, I understood. The rest, I had no real idea. Some classification system of its own, maybe.

...More importantly, why is the mana efficiency like that.

For a skill, the things that mattered most were mana efficiency and output. Mana efficiency was how much of the mana you poured in the spell actually used. Output was how much of that mana converted into force. Roughly speaking, mana efficiency × output = power.

120% mana efficiency? What?

Even a decent S-rank skill sat in the low nineties. One hundred and twenty percent was absurd. And the output alone was better than C-rank.

...This was supposed to be E-rank magic?

A few more comments trailed after that, but the favored line seemed to be that it would land around B-rank.

I can make a B-rank skill book?

I turned a cartwheel in my head and looked at the skill again.

There was a lot written on it, but one line stood out above the rest. This skill did not occupy a skill slot.

...Does that mean I can learn it even if my skill slots are full?

If that was really true, the value was insane. Even if the power only reached B-rank, being able to use one more skill was enormous.

Let's just make it.

With that thought, I hit the craft button.

"...?"

A magic circle spread open in the empty air, and then nothing happened. Don't tell me they wanted me to build the thing by copying that.

And how exactly am I supposed to do that.

Production classes usually spat out a finished product with a single click. Me, they tossed one blueprint and told me to make the rest myself?

This isn't it.

Even artifacts, which had been studied half to death, were still something humanity didn't properly understand. And skill books—the things countless scholars hadn't even been able to lay a hand on?

...Hopeless.

Wondering if there was any way at all to make use of the skill, I dug through the skill window, and one thing caught my eye.

What kind of ability is this.

I tapped it without thinking.

The world in front of my eyes washed pure white.

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a cold wooden floor.

Where...?

I pushed myself up and looked around. Enormous bookshelves ran on and on, and the ceiling was so high I couldn't see where it ended. It looked like a colossal library out of a fantasy world.

So this is the Magic Library.

I'd heard that some skills possessed a space of their own. A place like this existing wasn't, by itself, all that shocking. Then, all at once, I felt a presence nearby—the crisp snap of a book being shut, the old floorboards shrieking underfoot, and last of all, footsteps coming toward me.

Someone's here?

I turned my head, and my eyes met those of the cool beauty walking up to me: black hair, crimson eyes.

"Administrator. You've opened your eyes."

"Who are you?"

"I am the librarian of this library."

"Aha."

The face belonged on a runway more than behind a reference desk, but that was secondary.

"Do you happen to know what this place is for?"

I was curious why the library existed. It probably wasn't a place where you purely, innocently just read books. I asked because I figured there had to be some special reason.

"...?"

She tilted her head, plainly puzzled, and answered.

"This is a library. A place where one reads books."

"Is that for real? I had absolutely no idea."

"You are too kind."

At my words she showed a faint smile and bowed her head.

...Was she doing this on purpose?

"Administrator. Setting that aside, is there anything I might assist you with?"

She asked it with a blank face. Some kind of NPC who lived here, more or less. Honestly, I wasn't sure there was anything to do in a library. Just in case, I decided to ask about the blueprint.

"I obtained a grimoire blueprint. Would you happen to know how to craft it?"

"Yes. I know."

"Oh, you do?"

"Yes."

"...?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

It felt like talking to an AI on launch day. Probably just me. I put a clearer question to her.

"Could you teach me how to make a grimoire?"

"Yes. I am a librarian who exists in order to assist the Administrator."

"...Please teach me."

"Understood."

She reached into the empty air, and a single book came flying from somewhere.

"Having determined that the Administrator currently possesses absolutely no knowledge of magic, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I hereby recommend a foundational text on the study of magic."

"...You want me to read this?"

"Yes."

I turned to look at the book. A majestic volume, thicker even than a Bible.

"That volume contains every piece of foundational knowledge required for grimoire crafting."

"Is there anything a little shorter? For now, I just want to try making this one spell."

I showed her the Fireball blueprint.

"...A search of the library has confirmed that a volume concerning Fireball - FinalRealRealRealRealLastWrapUpFinalVersion does exist."

She reached out again, and this time she brought a single thin book.

A book with a title like an academic paper.

"...How long do you think it'd take me to understand this on my own?"

"If the Administrator lacks foundational knowledge, it is estimated to take approximately ten years."

Ten years. Far too distant a story—but even so, I finally understood the mechanism of my ability.

So the library was part of the set.

Use the magical knowledge gained in the library to complete the high-performance grimoire drawn on the blueprint. Structurally, the skills fit together with a clean click.

Ten years is a bit much, though.

Still, being able to use the ability at all meant something. A B-rank skill book was worth a few hundred million won at the very least. Invest ten years, make just this one, and I could live fat for the rest of my life.

You have to attend school for nine years just to come out a middle school graduate. Next to that, this is a bargain.

I took the book in that happy mood—and in that same moment:

"...Calculation complete."

Korea's forums had begun to burn with nothing but talk of Fireball - FinalRealRealRealRealLastWrapUpFinalVersion.