Picking Up a Snake

Time flows equally for everyone — but for the self-employed, it tends to flow a little more cruelly.

A few months had passed.

To cut to the chase: I was still alive.

The problem was that being alive was about the only achievement I had to report.

Even after receiving the death sentence of a zero-percent mana conductivity rating, I hadn't given up. I swapped out three different types of materials, changed the number of fold-welds, even dissolved powdered magic stones into the quenching water.

The results were all the same. The only thing that grew was my debt.

Which was why the walls were now covered in failures. Half-finished spears. Half-finished hammers. Half-finished scythes. Frustration might forge a man, sure — but this was overdoing it.

The one silver lining was that people will spend money on useless things. Craft pieces. Art objects. Props. Word of mouth about my work quietly spread among collectors and cosplayers.

And so I went from an EX-grade Awakened to a replica vendor on a secondhand marketplace app.

And I learned something.

The scariest thing in the world is human malice from the other side of a chat window.

What do you want me to do about it.

Still, I managed to cover the interest and the rent somehow. Not in the black, but not bankrupt either — a business that was just barely breathing. Standard specs for a self-employed twenty-something these days.

A life of making cosplay props with an EX-grade trait. Well, some people live that life.

But the katana hanging on the wall — my first work — I never sold. Kept it. Because I was attached to it? That was part of it. But the real reason was something else.

"…Something's missing."

When I made it, I was sure it was a masterpiece. Every step of the process finished perfectly. The blade was sharp, the wave pattern artistically etched.

But as time passed, a sense of incompleteness I couldn't erase settled in — like a puzzle with the center piece punched clean out.

No matter how many times I activated the trait, the answer came back the same.

"Where am I supposed to find a material that doesn't exist on Earth. You want me to rocket-ship an interdimensional express order or something?"

I let out a hollow laugh and took off my apron. When it came to chasing off a foul mood, late-night snacks were the best medicine.

That night was ordinary, too.

An industrial district street past eleven. The thick, sticky night air unique to summer clung to the back of my neck, and the streetlights along the road flickered or were dead outright — about one in three. It had been nearly two months since I'd filed a repair request with the district office, but civil servants' clocks apparently ran on a different schedule.

I was on my way back from the convenience store. Inside the bag: potato chips, two triangle kimbap, two cans of zero-calorie lime cola. All buy-one-get-one deals. Not a single full-price item among them. Get two for the price of one. If every transaction in the world worked like that, I'd be a happy man.

That was when it happened.

Kuuuuung—!

The ground rumbled. The rhythm of something massive coming this way. I looked down the far end of the alley.

"…You've got to be kidding me."

A blue snake was crawling toward me. Its body filled the entire width of the alley, head swaying at the height of a second-story building.

A Gate Break? Why in a backwater neighborhood like this? What was the Association doing? Where were my taxes going?

Crackle—

The streetlights in the path it passed through bleached white, then crumbled like pillars of salt. Ah. That one wasn't getting fixed by a district office complaint.

And from the direction the snake was heading — toward me — something white came running.

A pure white girl. She looked like the finest masterpiece that had just fled a dollmaker's workshop. If a piece of silverwork could run, I thought, it would look like that. Every time she passed between a dead streetlight and a living one, her silver hair flickered like a strobe.

A small frame. Porcelain skin. White as if someone had cut a girl out of paper and pasted her onto the night street.

But what seized my gaze most of all was the slender nape of her neck as she ran, gasping for breath.

A glimmer. A soft, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pearl-like luster. Something rising from her skin…

Scales?

While I stood frozen, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠captivated by that gleam, the girl spotted me.

"You there! Save Nagi-nim! That's an order!"

I looked at the girl in silence. Then I turned my gaze to the blue snake approaching behind her. Still turning streetlights into salt. I looked at the girl again, then the snake. Then I thought about the expiration date on the triangle kimbap in my bag.

Good until four in the morning. Still time to eat it. If I was alive.

"I decline."

I spun on my heel and sprinted full speed — in the opposite direction from the girl.

"Huh!? Hey! Wait! Where are you going! That's the wrong way! Nagi-nim is over here!"

"Survive on your own, please! I'm busy, so I'll be going now."

My life was not a buy-one-get-one. It was a single item. No deals. No restocks. What possible reason was there to put that one irreplaceable unit on display in front of a blue anaconda.

"Wait! Nagi-nim is granting you the honor of saving her, you know? An opportunity that comes once in a thousand years!"

"I'll yield that honor to someone else! Every man for himself! It's the aesthetic of modern living!"

"Why do the humans of this era have so little faith?!"

I assessed the situation coldly. That thing was something the Association's special task force should be handling — not something a Production-class Awakened had any business facing. I ran while drafting a complaint petition in my head. But then—

Patapatapatapat—!

The footsteps behind me were not normal. Getting closer. Wait. Hold on. Why were those tiny legs so fast.

"You there! Wait! Stop!"

"I refuse!"

"Refusal is refused!"

Boing!

Weight landed on my back.

"Guh—!"

"Got you!!"

"What the hell is this! Get off right now!"

"No! If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you abandon Nagi-nim, divine punishment will fall! Nagi will curse you!!"

Her breath brushed the back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of my neck. Cold body temperature for someone who'd been running. And a smooth, hard texture. Scales. Actual scales attached to her skin.

"Save the cursing for later and get down first. You're heavy."

"Liar! Nagi-nim is light as a feather! So light you were shocked, right? Right?"

"What shocked me was the shamelessness."

"Thanks for the compliment! Heh."

That was not a compliment.

Kuuuuung—

And through all of this, the ground kept shaking. The sound of the blue snake changing course and coming this way. Of course it was. The prey had combined into one. We'd become a combo meal.

"Don't drag me into this — go die gloriously on your own!"

"So cold! A human with no blood and no tears! From this moment on, we are ichiren-takushou!"

"Ichiren-takushou means being reborn together on the same lotus in paradise. You're saying we should die together right now!"

"Shut up! Once a snake bites, it doesn't let go! Chomp!"

Her arms tightened around my throat.

"Khh— my neck… d-don't choke me…"

"Ah, sorry. Snake habit. It's instinct."

The pressure in her arms loosened — very slightly. Very slightly. Meaning she had zero intention of letting go.

I cleanly gave up. Wrestling this self-proclaimed "Nagi-nim" off my back like a leech was less profitable than putting even one more step of distance between myself and the blue eel.

I rounded a corner with the girl still on my back.

"Hah… hah… What even is that insane eel in the first place? You two seemed pretty familiar."

"It's not an eel! It's a terminal of the Leviathan! The main body is way bigger! That thing is a tentacle it spread across the world? Like… leg hair!"

"Snakes don't have leg hair. And if the leg hair is building-sized, the main body is—"

I stopped mid-sentence.

"Never mind. I don't want to hear it. Bad for my mental health."

"Oh! Pretty wise for a human! Nagi-nim will praise you! Squeeze!"

Leviathan. I knew that name. It was from the Bible. The monster God pulls out in the Book of Job to humble humanity. "Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook," and so on.

I turned three corners. Each time, the sound of building edges being sheared away came from behind. The snake didn't turn corners. It widened the alley as it came. Everywhere it passed, streetlights, signs, and utility poles bleached white and crumbled. Brush against that body and a person would become a salt statue. Don't look back. Look back and I might turn to salt myself for no good reason.

"Hey, human. Where are we going right now?"

"My workshop. It has a shutter."

"Shutter? What's a shutter."

"A steel door. You pull it down and it closes."

"Ooooh! A barrier! A human barrier!"

"It's more of a security fixture than a barrier… but close enough."

I didn't have the energy to correct her. My lungs were already at their limit, and my calves were on the verge of a walkout.

A familiar two-story warehouse building appeared at the edge of the industrial district. I wrung out the last of my strength, dove through the door, half-threw the girl off my back, and slammed the shutter switch.

Rrrrrrk— clunk.

The steel shutter closed. I collapsed on the spot and gasped for air. A cold forge. Walls hung with failures. The smell of iron and charcoal. My little fortress. Defense rating: about equal to the monthly rent.

"Shh. Quiet."

"Shh? Shhhh! Sounds just like a snake!"

"No — just actually shut your mouth."

Surprisingly, the girl went quiet. In the darkness, only the two of us breathing passed back and forth.

The rumbling of the ground… stopped. One second. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Silence.

Did it go looking for other prey? If it had to eat someone, I'd prefer it start with the difficult customers. That lady with the "my husband is angry" routine, for a start.

"…Did we lose it?"

I shouldn't have said that.

Crunch.

The shutter crumpled like paper. With a shriek of tearing metal, deep-sea-blue scales shoved through the gaps in the crumpled steel plate. A vertically slit yellow eye swept across the dark workshop.

"What is this! You said it was a barrier! A defensive wall!"

Nagi ducked behind my back and shrieked.

"Please don't expect too much from human security fixtures."

I was the idiot for putting any faith in a cheap steel plate that hadn't even been mana-treated. Ah. So this is how I die. Without ever properly using my EX-grade trait, leaving nothing but debt, inside a reptile's stomach.

That was when it happened.

Ziiing— ziiiing—

A strange vibration rang out. From the wall. From the temporary rack. My first work — the katana — was crying. The same mournful cry I'd heard months ago in front of a cup of instant noodles. You're crying even in a situation like this?

"That."

The girl looked toward it. The fluster from moments ago vanished as if it had been a lie; her voice went calm.

"That sword. What is it."

"My first work. It won't sell, it can't hold mana—"

I stopped, and the words that had been stuck in my throat for months finally came out.

"It's a failure."

"A failure…?"

The girl stared at the sword. In the darkness, her pupils narrowed into vertical slits.

"That sword is calling for Nagi."

"What?"

The girl brought a hand to her own nape. Her fingernail hooked under one of the pearl-lustrous scales. And she tore it free.

Riiip.

"Nngh… that hurts!"

Of course it hurt. She'd torn it out of her own skin. Tears clinging to the corners of her eyes, the girl held the scale out toward me.

"Here. Remake it with this."

"Right now? Look, maybe you should assess the situation a little—"

CRUNCH!

Through the gap in the shutter, the snake's head was forcing its neck into the workshop. Nowhere to run. No time. Common sense said the thing to do right now was write a will, not forge a blade.

"You're a blacksmith! Hurry!"

The scale dropped into my palm.

In that instant—

My vision bleached white.

I had finally found the missing piece.