I'll Borrow a Weapon

The lingering twang of the bowstring had barely faded when blue holograms burst forth from every direction—Yu Hayeon's schematic display. Green and red figures flashed in rapid succession, and then lines of text began stacking themselves across the screen.

Yu Hayeon stared blankly at the hologram window, her pupils darting left and right.

"The bow sits right in the hand. Center of gravity's excellent, too."

"Turbine RPM at a hundred percent? Zero backflow? What is this?"

"Well, it's your equipment, Director."

"You. Are you actually human?"

"Would you like to see my ID?"

Yu Hayeon strode right up to him. Instead of answering, she flicked through the holograms with sharp jabs of her finger. Every swipe piled on more numbers.

"And the variable tension calculations? The string angle just shifted ever so slightly—what correction values did you input? Every circuit lit up within a second of your hand touching the grip. This bow doesn't even have a neural-link module. It's a purely manual control model!"

"I just pulled it and it pulled."

"Don't play dumb with me!"

Yu Hayeon clenched her teeth.

"It's an engineering impossibility. Individually recognizing and controlling two hundred and seventeen mana circuits would require an A-rank or higher computational trait, or some kind of unique magic-class skill. But your trait—Weapon Master—is a combat-correction ability."

"Mm. My fingertips are on the sensitive side, I suppose."

More precisely, the trait had handled all of it on its own—but explaining that would mean reciting nearly thirty sub-entries one by one. I couldn't be bothered.

"You think a completely unscientific excuse like that is going to fly!?"

She hammered at the console in a fit of irritation.

A hiss, then a heavy thud. The hangar floor split apart to either side, and a target board rose fifty meters ahead. Layer upon layer of blue mana shields stacked across its face, thickening into a formidable wall—one, two, three… five barriers in all.

"Shoot."

Yu Hayeon folded her arms and jerked her chin toward the target. Her eyes had narrowed to a fierce slant.

"I don't know what kind of trick you pulled, but holding a draw and actually launching a projectile are entirely different domains. That target is a five-layer overlapping defense shield. A full-power strike from a twentieth-floor hunter stops at the third plate. Punch through even one of them and I'll concede the point."

A demonstration, then. Well. If she was going to insist, I might as well.

I drew the string back.

A low, gathering hum. No separate arrow was required. Compressed energy siphoned from the bow's mana turbine coalesced into a single, clear, transparent blue shaft.

I loosed the string on the exhale.

Light tore across the hangar in a perfectly straight blue trajectory.

The first shield shattered. The second and third burst in rapid succession. The arrow punched into the fourth, spinning ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠furiously, then detonated in a spray of sparks.

The blast wave obliterated the fifth shield entirely. A fist-sized hole punched clean through the special-alloy wall behind the target.

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shrill alarm screamed from the ceiling. Red lights began to spin.

"……"

"……"

I looked from the hole in the wall to the spinning alarm lights and back again.

They're not going to bill me for that repair, right?

This could easily run into the tens of thousands of dollars. Hell, maybe six figures. She was the one who'd told me to shoot the thing—but if a conglomerate legal team decided to come after me for damages, a nobody like me wouldn't stand a chance.

I set Artemis back on its stand with extreme care. Then I buffed the grip with my sleeve, just in case I'd left fingerprints. Restored to original condition.

"That was quite the show. Looks incredibly expensive, though, and I'm a broke nobody who can't even afford the damage insurance, so I'll be on my way. The wall repairs come out of the Director's personal budget, I assume? Since you requested the demonstration."

I headed for the exit without looking back.

"Wait."

A low, settled voice caught me from behind.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Going home. It's getting late, and I'd rather not miss the last bus."

Yu Hayeon approached slowly. She glanced down at the bow on its stand, then let out a short, incredulous laugh.

"You didn't just perfectly understand and handle my design… my theory… and now you're walking away?"

"I didn't understand anything. I just clicked it."

"Ha. Trying to drive up your price, are we?"

Something flickered strangely in her eyes—the look of a collector who'd just spotted a rare antique across an auction floor.

"Your negotiation technique is impressive, Mr. Baek Mujin."

"Pardon?"

"You deliberately put on a perfect demonstration of control over my weapon, and then immediately stand up and walk out saying it's too expensive to use?"

"No, I genuinely don't have the money—"

"I'll admit it. You won this round. You've more than proven your value."

Yu Hayeon thrust a tablet at me. It was the same contract I'd seen yesterday. The numbers, however, were not.

"I'll double the signing bonus from yesterday's offer. Equipment selection rights go to you entirely. Every laboratory and every product line at Yooseong Artifacts, opened without restriction. I'd say that constitutes a sufficient show of good faith."

The terms were absurdly generous. And the better the terms, the heavier the shackles that came with them.

"Ordinary people know their place. I can't handle being some conglomerate's exclusive hunter. Getting dragged to executive dinners, posing for promo shots, doing interviews, filing commute reports—I despise all of it."

"You want a higher salary? Name a figure. I'll match it."

"It isn't about the money. It's about my lifestyle. I'm leaving."

I started for the door again.

Her hand snapped around my wrist.

"You think I'll let you walk? With data like this sitting right in front of me?"

"Director. You're going to break my wrist."

She drew a single breath, then bit her lip.

"…Fine. If an exclusive contract is that unbearable."

The tablet screen changed. This version was a single page.

"We'll do it as an ambassador arrangement."

"Ambassador?"

"Yooseong Artifacts provides the equipment. You just use it. Rental fee: zero."

"…Zero?"

She ticked the conditions off on her fingers, one by one.

"In exchange: the Yooseong Artifacts logo is to be clearly visible in all future Tower-clear footage. The complete telemetry logs from the weapon are to be transmitted to the lab. And you will take point on regular field-testing of all new product prototypes going forward."

I ran the numbers in my head at speed.

Commuting? None. Getting chewed out by a boss? None. Tedious interviews or event appearances? None. Just borrow the gear for free, and hand over the data it generated every time I used it. That was it.

"Free rental. I like it."

"…You really are impossible to read."

Yu Hayeon let out a disbelieving sigh and tapped at the tablet.

"Your first assignment as a beta tester is the 10th Floor. Bring down the Albatross that flies around up there. I want every scrap of that bird's flight path and the bow's intercept data. Don't leave anything out."

"Understood."

"Take the bow with you now. I'll get you a case. And this is the equipment loan contract."

She held out a document envelope. Inside: an equipment loan statement, a data-provision consent form, a testing-participation confirmation.

"Sign them."

And at the very bottom, one extra page.

A single sheet, slipped in with impressive subtlety, caught my eye. I plucked it out and dangled it in front of her nose.

"And this is?"

"…Ahem."

Yu Hayeon's face went red in an instant. She coughed loudly and snatched the document away.

"A mistake. Automatic print-system error."

"Corporate printers these days. Remarkably shameless."

"Oh, be quiet. Take the bow and get out!"

The next morning.

The moment I stepped through the 10th Floor gate, a cool wind slapped me in the face again. A plateau above the cliffs. A sea of clouds. And a white silhouette tracing lazy circles fifty meters up.

A harsh cry echoed down.

"Back again, you bastard."

The Monstrous Bird Albatross was gliding at its leisure, great wings spread wide. As before, it shook out a few feathers and let them drop toward the ground.

They struck with sharp, successive cracks. Scorch marks bloomed across the stone.

"Still as arrogant as ever."

The scabbard at my hip shuddered violently, a low, resonant growl rolling out of it.

"Quiet down. You don't have the range for this anyway."

I gave the magic sword a tap to settle it, then drew the snow-white bow from its case.

Prototype Artemis-01.

The instant my hand closed on the grip, the mana turbine at the center of the riser spun up with a rising whine. At the same time, lines of blue text scrolled into the corner of my vision.

"The bow's coaching me."

One of them was a jealous, menhera magic sword. The other was a personal trainer who wouldn't shut up. My weapons had teamed up to exhaust me.

I settled into my stance.

The string creaked as I hooked my fingers and drew it back hard. Every mana circuit built into the limbs flared blue at once. The light gathered at my fingertips and became an arrow—a mana shaft condensed under enormous pressure.

The Albatross overhead whipped its head around, having sensed the surge of mana rising from the ground. Its round eyes flooded with alarm.

A panicked shriek tore out of it.

"What are you looking at."

The bow gave its permission. How considerate.

I loosed the string.

The shockwave rattled the plateau's stone. A pillar of blue light punched up from the ground, tearing the air as it climbed vertically.

Fifty meters up, the arrow struck home—dead in the left wing joint of the Albatross, which had been beating its wings in a frantic attempt to flee.

A rupture like an explosion. The enormous wing tore clean off. Blood and feathers sprayed down like rain.

The creature that had so arrogantly owned the sky screamed and spiraled, plunging toward the ground. It slammed into the plateau floor with a thunderous crash, a geyser of dirt erupting around it.

A wash of blue light, and a pair of enormous silver feathers settled into my inventory. I looked down at the bow.

"…Yeah. Expensive really is better."

"You did good too. You swatted those feathers just fine yesterday."

I'd gone from one large dog to two.

The moment I stepped out of the portal, camera flashes detonated in my face.

"Hunter Baek Mujin! A solo clear of the 10th Floor in forty-seven seconds!"

"That's a Yooseong Artifacts prototype, correct? Have you signed a contract with Director Yu Hayeon?"

"Have you abandoned the Serin Workshop magic sword!?"

That last question snagged in my ear, but I didn't answer. I slipped away in full slippery-eel mode.

In the back seat of the bus, I turned on my phone. The portal homepages were plastered with me.

"Conglomerate bus, my ass. One wrong draw on that bow and it rips your arm off. The thing's a deathtrap."

Still. The bow's performance was the real deal, I'd broken a record, and I'd picked up a rare material. Net positive, all told.

So what if they called me Yooseong's dog? What mattered was the number that hit my bank account. Woof woof.

Then a chill ran down my spine.

…Wait.

I reread the gallery thread.

Yooseong's dog. A new weapon. What's Mackerel Boss gonna do. Lost her first-ever regular customer.

"Hold on."

Yesterday ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd kicked up that whole scene and gone to Yooseong Tower. Today the news had my name and Yu Hayeon's sitting side by side on the front page, and footage of Yooseong's cutting-edge bow in my hands had been broadcast to the entire world.

A single face flashed through my mind.

I got off at the next stop in a hurry and started running for the back alley.

An alley that should have been ringing with the roar of bellows and the ring of a hammer was dead silent.

The dead end. A peeling wooden building. A new warning had been posted on the workshop door.

A long, low creak. The door eased open on its own before I could even touch the handle.

Han Serin stood in the gap.

"You're here…?"

Long, ink-black hair covered half her face. The eye visible in the other half had no focus at all—a dead eye, the light gone out of it.

That eye drifted, slowly, to the bow case slung across my back.

A creak. Han Serin's head listed slowly to one side.