Five Photos of a Cute Dragon
"Bwahahaha! I did it!"
Haring bounded down the mountain in little hops, whooping with pure, unfiltered joy.
She'd gotten the pictures. Five of them, no less!
Honestly, she never thought she'd pull it off this fast. Their first meeting had been a disaster, and every movie and novel she'd ever seen painted dragons as savage, terrifying beasts. She'd already been smacked once. Odds were high she'd die trying.
If I die, there's a respawn cooldown, but still…
Even so, a photo was a photo. Worth the risk. That was the logic she'd used to justify charging in at full sprint.
"And she just… let me."
The dragon had simply stared at her, blank and unbothered. Probably figured that no matter what the human in front of her did, it couldn't so much as scratch her, so why bother intervening. She also looked like the type who found almost everything too much of a hassle.
Which meant Haring had walked away with a whole stack of crystal-clear shots. Absolute win.
Once she'd put a safe distance between herself and the nest, Haring opened the system's internal photo album. Screenshots taken with the built-in system camera filled the gallery, the most recent ones sitting right at the top.
A tiny dragon wearing an expression of pure inconvenience. And Haring herself, frantically throwing up double thumbs-up beside her.
"Oh my god, she's so cute!"
Just looking at that face made her heart melt. She wanted nothing more than to scoop the dragon up in a crushing hug — the fact that she hadn't was going to haunt her forever.
If I'd tried that, I'd actually be dead.
Standing off to the side and snapping photos had earned her nothing more than a blank stare. Physical contact? No way the dragon would have sat still for that.
"…Or would she?"
A dragon whose laziness had maxed out every possible stat might just let it happen…
"Should I push it further next time? Ending it here feels like such a waste…"
The dragon's cuteness was one thing, but what had she climbed this mountain for in the first place?
A Hidden Piece.
That was the whole point of a month of climbing — the very thing countless gallery users were still desperately praying for.
"Two titles feels a little thin for all that work."
She hadn't gotten a single weapon forged from dragon horn, no skill, no special ability — none of the classic novel rewards. And the dragon herself had said it out loud: there were people out there receiving her training.
Haring might be saying it herself, but she had grit. While everyone else was out having fun, she'd spent an entire month doing nothing but climbing.
"No reason I can't do it too!"
She had no idea how brutal a dragon's training might be, but this was still a game. It couldn't be completely impossible.
And if she got a hug out of it along the way, even better.
Haring opened the gallery with a dreamy smile, already painting a bright future in her head.
Let's see…
(Photo of a man performing a full kowtow, a bow strapped across his back)
O great and almighty and solemn and beautiful and all-powerful Haring-nim.
Please tell me where it is.
I upvoted every single one of your climbing certification posts, Haring-sama. From now on I will post one Haring praise thread a day. I want to see the dragon. Please. Please please.
Please please please please please please please.
"Sorry, but not yet."
She felt a little bad for DragonBok, who was dropping a dozen dragon-related posts a day — but she had no intention of sharing. This wasn't a quest that ended with a photo.
(Compilation of Haring's climbing certification photos)
The gallery's losing it over the missing climber. But if you actually try, you can find this place, right?
She posted a bunch of certification shots, and the last one even showed the habitat.
Based on what we've got so far, the location is Red Mountain.
Specs are unclear, but she's probably close to a newbie.
(Red Mountain is a low-level zone, and she spent a whole month just climbing, so no leveling either)
(Photo of a beaming Haring throwing up a peace sign, with a sleeping dragon in the background)
Granted, her gear looks solid for her level… but let's just call that cash-shop money and move on.
Anyway, it's almost definitely not at the base of the mountain. If it were that low, someone would've found it already. And if we assume she didn't revisit places she'd already been, that narrows it down pretty hard.
(Paint-program map of Red Mountain with a black circle marked on it)
Somewhere around here, maybe?
"What the hell. They're deducing this way faster than I expected."
How had they already pinned down the location? Had posting climbing updates so consistently been a mistake?
Haring felt a twinge of disaster settling in, but shook her head. Nothing she could do about it now. If she hadn't posted those climbing logs, she would have given up ages ago.
A full month of climbing with zero gallery time? Yeah, right.
"Does this mean that guy's going to show up too?"
That guy. Her older brother.
The benefactor who'd made it possible for her to play this game in the first place — and the one who'd first introduced her to the gallery. He'd quit the gallery himself to focus on streaming, but you never knew. Streaming and community boards were practically the same organism.
Right now the buzz was confined to ProlGal, where people were still half-guessing. But if the topic came up on her brother's stream, and the streaming-side gallery latched onto the bait…?
"…I need to hurry."
Players could start flooding Red Mountain any day now. More of them would go looking for the dragon, and once that happened, she wouldn't get meetings like this anymore. Unlike the mid-sized ProlGal, the streaming galleries operated on a completely different scale.
"First things first…"
"Haaaaawn…"
Sleepy.
I would have loved nothing more than to sink into a proper deep sleep, but the conditions kept hovering in that irritating middle ground where real rest was impossible. Most of my drowsiness had already burned off, for one thing — and between Haring's bizarre photo-op stunt and the fairies constantly dropping by to pester me, peace was a lost cause.
The fairies I could live with. The problem was this strange human who kept coming back…
"Dragon-nim."
"……"
"Dragon-nim. Dragon-nim. Or should I call you Flame Dragon-nim?"
"Call me whatever."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Ever since she'd bolted that first time, something had apparently clicked in her confidence, because the visits were getting more frequent. Roughly once every three days?
On her third visit I'd planned to kick her out on sight, but she'd brought snacks as a peace offering, so I let it slide.
It's not like she actually does much…
Compared to the fairies who treated my body like a mountain range to be scaled, she was practically quiet.
Haring trotted closer and pulled a small box from her coat. Inside sat a neat row of appetizing cookies.
"Hehehe. You're going to want these today. Cream puff cookies from the village at the foot of the mountain."
"…Cream puffs. But cookies?"
"Yes. Try one."
I did like cream puffs…
I took the cookie from her without much ceremony. For the record, I was currently in my Polymorph form. Haring muttered something about how our hands had touched and giggled to herself, but I ignored her completely and focused on the cookie.
Looked like a regular cookie with cream filling smeared on top.
Crunch.
"!"
"Well? Good, right?"
"…It's good."
"Hehe. Don't let the look fool you — these cost five thousand g— I mean, ten silver coins. They're buff food. Super expensive."
"These are good. Bring more of these from now on."
"Huh? These are kind of pricey…"
"Bring them."
Munch, munch.
I swallowed every last speck of cream without leaving a crumb behind. For a dragon's body the portion felt almost insultingly small, but in Polymorph form I didn't need much food. Fill the stomach just enough and that was plenty.
Of course, eating more wouldn't have been a problem either.
Haring made a pained face, then nodded.
"They're that good?"
"Yeah."
"…I should've bought the cheaper ones."
"Hey. You."
"Yes?"
"What were you doing last time?"
"Doing what?"
"In front of me. That thing."
Two weeks ago, Haring had struck a series of poses right in front of me and then fled. Judging by the way she'd run, I'd assumed she was never coming back — so watching her show up again like nothing had happened had been almost impressive in its shamelessness.
At the time, I'd figured those motions were some kind of magic or ritual.
Nothing changed, so clearly not.
Haring hesitated, chewing on her words, then answered carefully.
"Photos… I mean, like, pictures you can save…"
"Photos?"
Photos as I knew them?