The Faceless Customer
In a shadowy alley off Seoul's bustling main street, where flashy neon signs and the Hunter Association logo flickered, the forge deep in the gloom opened the day with the roar of the bellows. Whooosh—clang. Each ragged breath from the battered automatic bellows sent the furnace temperature spiking. Amid the coke pile glowing orange-hot, a lump of steel heated to its core.
Seojun Im swept back his sweat-matted bangs and clamped the glowing steel with tongs, slamming it onto the anvil. 'Alloy mixed with C-rank monster Iron Boar's shinbone. Carbon content's all over the place.' Just by looking, the material's properties flashed through his mind like data. The scraps hunters dragged from dungeons varied wildly in quality. Some were usable, but this one on the anvil was riddled with impurities—a total dud.
The client wanted the lightest, toughest dagger possible from this cheap alloy. Brazen demand, but Seojun grabbed his hammer without complaint. Tang! The first strike cleaved the forge's air with a dull thud. 'Density's low, as expected. Gotta disperse the force.' His eyes sharpened. It wasn't brute smashing. The instant the hammer face met steel, he snapped his wrist, driving shockwaves deep into the material.
Tang! Clang! Taaang! Crisp hammer blows rang out. Sparks flew with each drop, crimson bursts scattering everywhere. He gauged impurity expulsion from the spark colors and angles. By the time his right shoulder ached, the flattened steel began taking the dagger's shape. 'Now.' Seojun paused, reheating the formed blade in the furnace. Heat treatment to realign the crystal structure—any ordinary smith would skip it, but he stuck to the process with stubborn precision.
Sizzle— Plunging the hot dagger into the oil bath erupted white smoke. Acrid fumes stung his nose. Through the haze, he checked for fine cracks on the surface. Clean, luckily. "Whew." Tension eased, fatigue crashed in. The finished dagger gleamed sleekly, unbelievable for C-rank materials. Faint blue mana light traced its razor edge. "This'll pass as low B-rank," he muttered, setting it on the workbench.
These days, hunters favored mass-produced gear from big guild factories. Back-alley forges like his drew only cash-strapped rookies or vets with tricky repairs. Even those visits had dried up long ago. As he started tidying with rent on his mind—ding-a-ling— the door chime rang. "Welcome..." Seojun's greeting trailed off.
A figure stood at the forge entrance. Humanoid shape, elegant hanbok—but that was irrelevant. The essentials were missing. No eyes, nose, or mouth. Just a smooth, egg-white round head and tousled bob hair like a wild mop. The forge's heat vanished in an instant. Chilling dread filled the void. The flames hadn't dimmed, yet cold sweat soaked his back. His brief hunter instincts screamed: This isn't human. Not a monster either. A kaeyi lurking in the city's shadows.
[...Boss.]
The voice didn't enter his ears—it resonated directly in his mind. Clear and bell-like, like jade beads. Seojun swallowed dryly. Run? His legs felt glued to the floor. "What... can I do for you?"
The egg ghost glided in soundlessly, stopping at the workbench and tilting its faceless head side to side. [I want you to make something for me.] "If it's something I can craft..." Seojun nodded toward the sample weapons on the wall. A kaeyi wanting arms? Horrifying thought. But refusing might end badly. [No weapons.]
From its hanbok sleeve, it placed a tattered paper bundle on the bench. [What I need is...] It raised its head, facing him squarely. No gaze, yet terror intensified. [...a mask.]
"...A mask?" Seojun echoed, puzzled. He'd half-expected a face itself. A mask, though? [Yes. One to cover me.] He unfolded the papers. Less blueprint, more child's crayon scribble: a grotesque grinning face with torn laughing eyes and twisted smirk.
"What... materials will you use?" [Doesn't matter. As long as it holds my essence.] That was the crux. Normal steel or hunter gear couldn't contain kaeyi energy. Seojun's mind raced through corner-stashed supplies. 'Cursed gravekeeper's shovel fittings... too weak. Obsidian from the abyss cave? Too hard to work.' Then it hit him—the deepest warehouse box. A gift from a retired hunter for booze money years back.
Yin Iron.
Demon realm essence condensed in metal. Wouldn't melt under normal heat; mana infusion ruined it. Hunters dismissed it as trash, but its eerie aura had kept him from discarding it. "One moment." He fetched the dusty lead box. Opening revealed a dark blue lump, gleaming ominously, devouring surrounding light.
[Hoo...] A faint vibration from the egg ghost—satisfaction. Seojun tonged the Yin Iron into the furnace. Whoosh! Normal flames would've taken ages, but he pulled a lever by the air intake. His custom mana amplifier kicked in. Rumble— Deep vibrations rose; red flames turned blue. Mana density converting to heat.
Shaaak— The Yin Iron screamed in blue fire, surface melting to viscous liquid. Seojun stared, transfixed—nothing like his usual materials. 'Now!' He shifted the molten mass to the anvil, grabbing not his iron hammer but an ebony wood one. Steel might scatter its essence.
Kwaang! Not metal-on-metal, but a heavy burst like an explosion. Numbness jolted his hands. The repulsion was immense, pushing back the hammer. Teeth gritted, Seojun swung again. Thud! Kwaang! Thud! He envisioned the eerie laughing mask from the sketch. The Yin Iron writhed like a living thing, resisting.
Every sense heightened, reading the grain, instinctively knowing where to strike or yield. Sweat droplets hit the anvil, hissing to steam. His pupils began glowing blue. Time held only hammer, metal, and him. For the eyes, he infused affection. Kaang! A sharp crack; shards flew, forming torn laughing slits.
Next, the mouth—delicate taps with the hammer tip shaped the twisted smirk. Tap, tap, tack. Finally, smoothing the surface. Reheated, then quenched not in oil but his proprietary solution: monster blood mixed with holy water. Shoooo— Black smoke billowed, carrying a fishy yet sacred scent. Cooling in the liquid, the mask darkened from dark blue to pure jet black. Absolute void, reflecting no light.
Seojun extracted the finished mask. Still hot, yet icy cold gripped his bare palm—unbelievable from the furnace. A smile that seemed to weep, unsettling any viewer. "It's... done."
The egg ghost reached slowly, taking it. It caressed the mask, then pressed it to its faceless head. Slither. Seamless fit, as if always one. Jet-black covered the white egg. And...
[...Splendid.]
The mask's mouth moved. The same jade voice, but clearer, purer. [It holds my essence perfectly. No—more than that. My scattered power gathers around this mask.] The ghost glanced down. Black haze rose around its jade hanbok. Far stronger, more dangerous than on entry.
Seojun swallowed. What have I made? [Payment.] It tossed something from its bosom onto the bench. Thunk. Fist-sized crimson gem. Blood Jade...?! Rarest magic stone from A-rank hearts. Worth buying the forge outright.
[I'll return.] With those words, it glided out as silently as it came. Alone, Seojun eyed the Blood Jade and anvil alternately. Furnace still blazed, but his heart chilled. "Come again!"