The Unnamed Ring

I turned on my heels.

The direction I headed was the opposite of just moments before.

It was toward the right side of the tower.

I walked with my ears perked, following the source of the sound.

“Wow, what’s with the prices these days…”

Someone muttering to themselves.

After a short distance, my paws brushing through the grass with soft crunches, a large bulletin board came into view.

Auction House

“Today’s my lucky day.”

A man with a savage face kept tossing a chipped dagger into the air and catching it as he strode toward the auction house.

“You listing it for auction?”

“Too much hassle. I’ll just sell it at the buy-it-now price and go eat.”

When he pushed the dagger against the board, it vanished with a familiar woong—sound.

The same noise that played when I summoned steel in the forge.

The same sound that had accompanied Daon’s appearance.

Ugh…

Goosebumps rippled across my skin at the noise.

Soon, text floated up on the bulletin board.

The man pressed the ‘Instant Sell’ button without hesitation, then immediately tapped ‘Deposit to Account.’

“Let’s go. I’m buying the pork belly.”

My sharp eyesight caught every detail of the process—the price, the transaction flow.

The pathetic dagger I’d seen at the stall earlier had been priced at 800,000 won. This one was around 200,000.

“Hmm.”

I had a decent feel for it now.

Without lingering, I left the area and wandered until I found a quiet, empty clearing.

I turned my head in every direction, scanning for any presence. Nothing.

All that remained was thought and creation.

“What should I make…”

All I had was a handful of molten iron. Far too little for armor or a large weapon.

“But I really don’t want to make another dagger.”

It was a stubborn pride I had carried since my days in the forge. There had been an exception when I made one for Daon, of course.

That had simply been because I didn’t know what she liked, so I’d forged the first dagger she reached for.

“Hmmmm…”

The deliberation stretched on until the sun, hanging high in the sky, began to sink behind the ridge. By the time twilight settled over the clearing, I finally stood.

I raised my hand.

Drip. Drop.

Molten iron began to fall from my fingertips. I caught the droplets, cooled them with my breath, and drew them out into a long, thin strand.

A razor-thin wire.

Next, I took the remaining iron and coiled it around my finger like a ring.

The warm, red heat flowing across my skin felt strangely familiar.

Scrape. Scrape.

Using my finger as an anvil and the tip of another as a hammer, I gently polished it again and again.

The nearly transparent wire I had drawn out was smoothly absorbed into the steel ring now wrapped around my finger.

“It can’t only fit my finger…”

The final step was the inner wall of the ring. I forged it with a microscopic sliding structure. If the wearer’s finger was thicker, it would detect the pressure and gently expand; if thinner, it would contract and grip the skin perfectly. A variable structure that responded in real time to the wearer’s body.

When the last process ended, white steam carrying the chill of the night air rose from my fingertips.

“…It’s done.”

I stared at the ring as it continued to emit faint wisps of steam.

At first glance, it was just an ordinary, thin silver ring.

“Hmm.”

The result wasn’t bad. Or rather, it was exactly that—not bad.

It’s lacking.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was hollow, like a half-eaten pastry.

“Still…”

After finishing both the scrap from earlier and this ring, I was beginning to understand why my body had been forged into this particular form.

These small, slender fingers were perfect for delicate, precise work.

The sharp senses unique to an animal were ideal conditions for a blacksmith.

“All of that’s good, but…”

Of all possible appearances, did it really have to be this one?

“I should have imagined something cool and majestic instead…”

Pushing aside the regret, I lightly bent the index finger wrapped in the ring.

Ting!

With a subtle friction sound, a silver thread shot out from the center of the ring.

“It works.”

After confirming, I flicked my finger lightly.

Slice.

The wire shot forward without a sound, slicing through the air and striking a massive boulder at the edge of the clearing.

The rock slid diagonally and fell away. Its cut surface was mirror-smooth.

“…Hm.”

I clicked my tongue, retracted the wire back into the ring, and left the clearing.

My destination was the deserted auction house bulletin board visible in the distance.

“Oh…”

The moment I listed the ring, the words Sold appeared.

At the same time, a thick bundle of cash thudded to the ground in front of me. Stacks of yellow bills ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had almost forgotten the appearance of piled up.

What should I even spend this on?

Money was necessary to live. That much I knew.

But on what, exactly?

I’ll need a house. And food…

Come to think of it, even though I had returned to the modern world quite some time ago, I never felt hungry. It was as if the sensation of “hunger” itself didn’t exist.

“Hmm…”

Even so, something in my chest felt empty.

It wasn’t physical hunger. It was a deeper, more profound starvation.

“April…”

When I confronted that hunger, the image of the first piece of equipment I had ever given a name suddenly rose in my mind.

The countless hours spent in the forge.

The eternal time where even my existence had grown faint.

The hours when loneliness had cut into my very soul.

All of it had probably been for the sense of fulfillment I felt when I created April.

I squeezed my eyes shut, repeated the rationalization to myself, and turned away from the auction house board.

I ignored the crowd of men in black suits who were rushing to the exact spot I had just vacated.

“Is this the place? Are you sure?”

“According to the database, this is the correct auction house…”

“Damn it… Are we too late? What are you doing?! Search the area, now!”

I massaged my stiff shoulders and kept walking.

They must have lost something valuable.

“Hmm…”

I stuffed only the bills I might need immediately into my pocket, then packed the rest into a hole I dug and covered with dirt.

Some instinct told me that if I wasn’t going to use it right away, I should store it.

I left the auction house behind, the black-suited crowd still swarming the area.