Cheon Yohwa

Right after I cleared the tutorial, I went home and collapsed flat on the bedroom floor.

Ugh. I'm wiped. One Fireball, and every muscle in my body was throbbing. Maybe my mana pool was just that pathetic. Still, I shouldn't have to climb the Tower anymore.

The only reason I'd cleared the fifth floor of the tutorial was to raise a skill level — for the blueprint that unlocked once a crafting skill hit level 2.

"Heh."

It was no exaggeration to call Slash the greatest skill of this age. I was going to make it right now.

White light wrapped around me.

"Administrator. You have arrived."

The woman who bowed was Serena — a black-haired beauty in a formal suit.

"Hello."

"Fortunately, you are in your right mind on this occasion. Have you come to devote yourself to the texts?"

"Yes. There's a spell I want to make."

In high spirits, I opened the blueprint and showed it to her.

"I want to make this. Do you happen to have any books related to it?"

"Yes, of course. This library holds treatises on the magic of nearly every world."

"Aha."

So she's doing that thing again. I tried once more, this time in the sort ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of phrasing a proper librarian would actually answer.

"Might you show me those books?"

"It is possible. However... it would appear advisable that you not craft the magic in question at present, Administrator."

"Uh... is there a reason?"

For a second I wondered if she was trying to stop me from becoming the incredibly slick owner of Slash.

"Administrator, you recall losing consciousness last time, do you not?"

"Yes."

"You seem to have believed it was due merely to a lack of mana, Administrator. In truth, it was the result of fatal damage to your circuits."

The delivery was mechanical, but I listened anyway. Serena really was something like a robot my skill had produced.

"There should be no great difficulty in casting magic for the present. However, the damage to your circuits will not yet have fully recovered. I therefore recommend an interval of at least one week before you craft your next grimoire."

I got the gist. I'd taken a nasty internal injury, so for a while I was supposed to take it easy.

But.

"...What happens if I make a grimoire right now?"

"In the worst case, death. Should fortune favor you, it may stop at brain death."

So absolutely not.

Then what am I supposed to do? Honestly, there was nothing I wanted besides crafting Slash. I had 350 million gold on hand — thirty-five billion won, converted. Just cashing it out means I live rich for the rest of my life.

I figured I'd shelve Slash for now and stop by an exchange downtown. Thinking it through, though, that was a stretch. What am I supposed to claim as the source of the gold? Pocket change was one thing, but the moment the cash climbed past a few tens of millions of won, a tax audit would come sniffing. After that, my identity leaking was only a matter of time. I could spend the rest of my life sealed in a can, manufacturing nothing but grimoires.

Not happening. I wasn't about to let anyone ruin my peaceful do-nothing life.

What I needed was a way to hide who I was and turn gold into cash. And I already knew one: the community built into the Awakening System, the so-called Hunter Gallery.

I can just cut a back-room deal on there. Nothing got logged. Meet up quick, go your separate ways, done. But of course, of course, of course, there was another problem. I could get robbed.

Black-market deals were full of vicious criminals who shook you down for the gold and never handed over the cash. Sure, I could blast the crook with a Fireball and be done with it. Not that easy. My Fireball had obvious limits. Until now I'd been fighting sluggish monsters, so I'd had time to react. A person was different. I'd be cut down before I even got the spell off. Worse, my output was so strong I might blow the whole area to pieces. That was a problem no matter how I looked at it.

Hmm...

The deeper I dug, the fewer answers there were. I was still turning over how to break the deadlock when Serena spoke.

"Administrator. Is something troubling you?"

I explained the situation to Serena. Once she'd heard me out, this was what she offered.

"Might you consider making use of Magic Enhancement Parts?"

She meant the third class skill I'd received as a reward for clearing the tutorial.

"...What are Magic Enhancement Parts?"

"Allow me to explain."

To put it shortly, enhancement parts were components that let you tune a spell however you liked. Adjust the range, draw out more destructive force, raise the casting speed — apparently you could do quite a lot with them. That alone would have made them extraordinary.

You can take a part back off after you've equipped it? Unlike some old RPG I used to play, there didn't seem to be any garbage rule along the lines of "cannot be traded once equipped." I was still reeling at that incredible fact when Serena spoke again.

"Administrator, your present knowledge is sufficient to manufacture enhancement parts for Fireball. However, unlike a grimoire, enhancement parts require additional materials."

The parts I meant to make were Casting Time Reduction, and Reduced Blast Radius with Increased Power. I wanted to put a criminal down quickly and quietly.

"To craft the parts you desire, Administrator, the following materials are required."

Serena produced a rough estimate. Most of them were byproducts you could get only by hunting high-rank monsters.

"...You want me to obtain all this?"

"Yes."

You couldn't buy materials like these at the System auction house. The goods permitted for sale were restricted. Do I have to go hunt them myself? The thought surfaced, and I scrapped it at once. That left nothing but a black-market deal. Except that isn't easy either.

Fuck.

The contradiction nearly dragged a curse out of me, but I just managed to swallow it.

I returned to reality.

The moment I was back, I started combing the black-market ads on the Hunter Gallery. Plenty of the posts looked like scams, though a number of dealers seemed trustworthy enough. The one that actually stirred my heart was a certain anonymous listing.

Looking it over, they were selling everything I needed. Oh, this is good. I wouldn't have to slog through deal after deal. I could get every last material from this one person.

So I reached out, and the meeting place was settled without a hitch. They live closer than I thought. Southern Gyeonggi had sounded a little far, but we'd simply agreed to meet downtown in Hwaseong City.

Anyway. Might as well go.

I tugged a hat and a mask down over my face and stepped outside.

Time passed. The streets of Hwaseong City.

I walked on, trading messages with my contact. ...If they're downtown, they're somewhere around here. I was glancing around with that thought when screams rose nearby.

"Kyaaa!"

"R-run! It's a monster!"

What? I followed the crowd's eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up. A single enormous bird hung in the sky. A C-rank monster — a Strike Bird. Even among C-rank, it sat at the very top: C-5.

Maybe I should get out of here fast. I was about to hurry off when a chill gaze pricked me from the sky. ...It's looking at me. Had the Strike Bird marked me as prey? Putting it down with a Fireball is a little unrealistic. The thing was C-5. To deal any meaningful damage I'd have to throw a fairly powerful Fireball, and then I might collapse from mana shortage all over again. I'd really rather play this safe.

I was still weighing it when steel sheared through the air. A girl with a brown ponytail had appeared from nowhere and taken the creature's head clean off. Korea's unmistakable number-one hunter — Cheon Yohwa.

She landed lightly and came toward me.

"Are you all right? You aren't hurt anywhere?"

"...Yes. Thanks to you."

"I'm glad."

She smiled, looking relieved.

"...Ah, now that I think about it, this really isn't the time. I have something urgent, so I'll just—!"

With that, she hurried off.

What was that? Cheon Yohwa was supposed to operate in Suwon, the next city over. What was she doing in Hwaseong City? And she was dressed in a zip-up hoodie, carrying some unidentified black bag. ...Hmm. She'd probably just come to a convenience store for whatever idol-collaboration bread was trending these days. Cheon Yohwa was mid-twenties at the oldest. Prime age for that sort of thing.

I've got my own road to walk. I started moving. I had urgent business of my own.

In time I reached the meeting place, a back alley, and found the person waiting there. A woman in a black zip-up hoodie. Her hat was pulled low, so I couldn't make out her face. ...She's wearing the same thing Cheon Yohwa was. Was that just in fashion now? Feeling oddly about it, I walked up to her.

"Is that the merchandise?"

"..."

She gave a quiet nod.

"You're not going to talk?"

Another nod.

Is she committing to a mute bit? Peculiar. It wasn't important, though, so I kept the deal moving.

"Before I transfer the money, may I check what's in the bag?"

She nodded and readily handed the black bag over. What's her plan if I just run off with this? Either she was pure to the point of looking stupid, or she was confident she could catch me even if I bolted. Judging by looks alone, I'd have bet on the first. ...It's all here. Every material I needed for the enhancement parts was inside. So it wasn't a scam.

"Goods confirmed. I'll enter the System now and send you the gold."

I was just about to transfer it when something snarled from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠outside the alley.

"Krrrk...!"

Is today some kind of holiday? Fortunately, this one was an ordinary D-rank mob. I was thinking I'd just loose a Fireball and tidy it up — and then came a thunderous boom. The woman had already closed in and burst ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the monster's head apart with her bare hands.

...That form looks familiar. I was still caught on how wrong it felt when her hat and mask slid off, maybe from the impact. She turned her head toward me like that. Our eyes met.

"..."

"..."

A brown ponytail and crimson eyes. A face so pure she looked as if she'd only just turned twenty — innocent enough to slap the prettiest girl in the province across the cheek about five hundred times. There was no mistaking it.

"Miss Cheon Yohwa...?"

Common sense said Korea's number-one hunter would never show up for a back-alley deal like this. And yet the person standing in front of me was, without question, Cheon Yohwa.

"..."

While I stood there in a panic, she closed the distance in long, expressionless strides and seized my hand in a hard grip.

"Th-that...! P-please, could you keep this a secret...?!"

"What?"

"I didn't have any money...! I'm really not the kind of person who does this. I was truly just short on money...!"

She begged me, her voice crowding with tears.

...What?