Birds of a Feather Flock Together?

"Was it to your taste?"

"Don't even ask!! This... this is the first beer I've ever had in my life!!"

I barely held back the laughter threatening to burst out as I watched Foambeard's eyes practically spinning in his head. What I'd handed him was just your run-of-the-mill domestic lager from the neighborhood convenience store—nothing special.

Honestly, our country's beer does get some flak for not stacking up to the heavy hitters from overseas. But compared to medieval brewing tech? This was god-tier nectar, no question.

With a relaxed smile, like I was just getting started, I dropped the real bomb.

"And this is the worst one we have."

Foambeard's eyes bulged like they were about to pop out.

"Wh-what did you just say?"

"I said this is the worst beer. My world is full of ones with way deeper, richer flavors."

His whole body started trembling.

"Th-there are beers out there even better than this...? Repairman, please tell me you're joking."

He'd already upgraded my title to "Repairman Sir." What the hell did beer even mean to a dwarf?

I nodded and kept going.

"If you like bitter with a killer hop aroma, there's IPA. For something smooth and nutty, we've got wheat beer. Oh, and if you evolve your ale to the final stage, it'd probably be like stout, right?"

Gulp—Foambeard swallowed hard, looking ready to grab my pant leg.

"Then... about those failed weapons piled up like mountains in your warehouse. Can I take them all?"

He hesitated at my proposal. Dwarf pride was putting up one last fight.

"Th-those are trash, I tell you. Handing off scrap like that under a dwarf's name... it's a bit much. How about some good items instead?"

"Do you have good items piled up like mountains too?"

"W-well, no..."

"I want quantity over quality. And I'll get good stuff from you later anyway."

"Urk..."

Pride versus gluttony—a brutal internal war. But after tasting Earth beer, he had no other choice.

"Ugh... fine! Take 'em! Just... don't say we made them...."

"Don't worry. Different dimensions anyway—no one would believe they came from dwarves."

"W-well, that's a relief, then..."

I cheered inwardly. Failed or not, these were dwarf-forged. Way better ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠baseline than some human smith's "masterpiece." Fix 'em up with my repair skill, dump 'em on the Earth market? Boom—cash and safety secured.

But Foambeard wasn't done.

"But I have one more condition!"

"What now? Not backing out, are you?"

"No! The weapons are one thing, but I want the recipe for this delicious beer! Our dwarf brewing isn't quite at your world's level, but it's top-tier on Ereinia Continent. With the know-how, we could brew as much as we want!"

Bold demand for the recipe. I snorted internally. Good luck replicating modern temp controls and cultured yeast strains in this medieval setup.

But no need to sour the deal. Homebrewing kits and simple recipes were everywhere these days. Let the dwarves' grit and skill handle the upgrades.

"Sure. Recipe for high-grade items?"

"Deal!! Perfect! Kahahaha!"

Foambeard bellowed in satisfaction.

"By the way, Repairman Sir—you fight too? Thought you just fixed stuff."

"Of course. I'm a full-fledged hunter, smashing monsters in gates."

His eyes sparkled.

"Hunter, eh? Perfect! What's your main weapon? I wanna give you a gift."

A prideful dwarf offering first? Convenience store beer's power was unreal.

"Spear. I main the Seven Dragon Eight Trigram Spear style."

"A spear!! Manly, with that heavy one-shot power! Great! I'll scour my warehouse and hook you up with the best one!"

"Honored. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Thanks."

"My pleasure! Letting me taste beer that foams up my beard like this—my lifelong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dream fulfilled today! True Foambeard at last! Kahahahaha! What a day!"

I didn't hide my grin watching him roar with laughter. People, man—what can you say? Not a rough edge on him.

And with that, the barters wrapped: Tower Master, Royal Alchemist, Elder of the World Tree Forest, Saintess, and finally Dwarf Foambeard.

Then, system messages flooded my vision like a waterfall.

My eyes went wide. Just five trades. But their quality and ripple effects across the continent must've been off the charts.

"Whoa... what the hell? I'm already Gold rank?"

Bronze to Gold. Straight vertical climb. A rank others slaved lifetimes for, and I nabbed it with one mega-deal.

"Already? Impressive."

The Tower Master next to me stuck out his tongue in awe.

"Means the stuff you brought will shake up our continent big time. Trades that could flip a whole world's civilization on its head."

Next stages: Platinum, Diamond, Master. At this rate, I'd hit Master soon and summon Jermad sis to the real world.

But the Tower Master stroked his goatee, face turning serious.

"However, keep this up and experience gains will slow noticeably. The system always craves new knowledge and bigger interdimensional fusions. So, here's a proposal."

Repetitive trades, escalating XP requirements per rank. Solid point. But what proposal?

"Sure, Tower Master—what's up?"

"Keep dealing with Ereinia like this, but open fresh trades with the Murim too?"

"Murim?"

"Yeah. Truth is, Murim's a mess compared to our continent. You know that?"

"A mess...?"

The quietly listening Royal Alchemist chuckled and chimed in.

"Heh, Repairman. From our Ereinia view, they're total barbaric savages."

"Ah? Savages?"

"All they know is tempering their bodies to beat and slice people. How's civilization supposed to advance? It's a brutal backwater where brawling 'advances' more than culture."

I mulled it over. Yeah, the Murim from wuxia novels I knew was way more miserable than medieval fantasy. Pure might-makes-right, survival of the fittest.

Lucky I was born in Korea.

But reality check.

"Problem is, I don't know many in Murim. Traded once with someone called Shadowless Sword, but they ghosted after. Big deals like this need someone with clout..."

As I looked stumped, the Tower Master and Alchemist exchanged knowing smirks.

"We've been on this community for decades—think we don't know any Murim folks?"

"Wait, really? You've traded with them?"

"Of course. Magic breakthroughs need cross-dimensional knowledge exchange. Their qi energy's different from mana—prime research material."

"Who with?"

The Tower Master dropped an intriguing name.

"Heard of the Zhuge Clan?"

My eyes widened. Anyone who's read a wuxia knows it—the Murim brain trust, masters of mechanisms, formations, and sorcery over raw martial arts.

Perfect overlap with tower magic.

"Whoa! One of the Five Great Clans, right? Yeah, I know 'em."

"Ho! Then we're on the same page. I'll write you an intro letter for their community user. Meet a Zhuge—they'll lose their minds over your world's gadgets."

The Royal Alchemist jumped in, not to be outdone.

"I'll write one too."

"Who do you trade with, Alchemist?"

"Me? The Sichuan Tang Clan."

Another Five Great pillar. Top dogs in hidden weapons, poisons, and medicine. Perfect synergy with alchemy.

The Tower Master eyed the quietly listening Elder of the World Tree Forest.

"You know any Murim folk?"

The elder shook his head in disgust.

"None. I want nothing to do with those brutes wrecking nature in their endless scraps."

"Hm, you, dwarf?"

"Nope. They only care about swords—ignore armor! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A true craftsman masters both weapons and armor. No dealings."

"Shame. But Zhuge and Tang—two of the Five Greats—plenty to kick off Murim trades."

As the Tower Master wrapped up...

"Um... why not ask me?"

Saintess Liane tilted her head, pouting.

Everyone blinked in surprise at her outburst.

"Eh...? You know Murim people too?"

Saintess and Murim? Mismatch city.

But Liane smiled confidently and nodded.

"Of course. Murim's got people, so religion's big there. I still chat steadily with one of their religious leaders."

"Really? Murim religious leader... Right! Shaolin Temple! Buddies with their high monks!"

The Alchemist declared confidently. Shaolin's the go-to for Murim religion.

But Liane shook her head.

"Nah, not close with Shaolin. They emphasize self-enlightenment; our faith worships the Lord God. Fundamental clash."

I nodded quietly. Buddhism's self-power to nirvana; hers was other-power via a real god. Doctrinal friction, yeah.

"Taoist then? Wudang?"

"No. They're the ones trying to become gods themselves. Blasphemy."

"Ah... ha...?"

Taoism's goal... ascension to immortality? Yeah, that'd rub her wrong.

Wait... not Shaolin, not Wudang—who the hell's her religious contact?

The Alchemist voiced my curiosity.

"Then who? A Murim faith in a real god?"

Liane smiled benevolently and spoke slowly.

"You guys don't know? They're holed up in some barren mountain, doing asceticism, believing in and following God..."

The Tower Master and Alchemist's faces twisted.

"W-wait... Saintess... you don't mean...?"

She dropped the bomb with an innocent grin.

"The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. You haven't heard?"

Birds of a feather... flock together...?