Chapter 7: The Juttak Bestows Beer and Dried Squid (1)

Before the market updated, the gallery's post regeneration rate skyrocketed. It was only natural. The very thing all the gallery users had feared had come to pass.

No matter how much he thrashed around trying to survive, the odds were slim to none. With only a day left, what more could he do?

A few consoling comments, but Nanjangi Suljujeong wasn't the only one in this dire situation.

Terror spread through the entire gallery in an instant. Every gallery user showed their anxiety, fearing they might be next. And for someone, this brought preordained despair.

He ignored the comments on the post, eyes off the screen. A dwarf sat on the floor, tearing at his hair. The one active as 'Nanjangi Suljujeong'—the dwarf kingdom's sole master blacksmith, Dolkin Mahit.

"Fuck... really gonna die without doing shit."

His gruff dwarf voice trembled and cracked. That showed how much terror the situation brought him.

He'd endured this space for quite a while. He knew most incidents in the gallery. So he was certain. He'd die to those called Yudong Goe-i. Brutally, indescribably so. Torn apart alive, slaughtered beyond recognition, or maybe vanish without a trace. All fates of those killed by Yudong Goe-i in this gallery. And now, that fate had come to Dolkin.

He glanced at the shadows. A mountain of tens of thousands of swords, and a lone hammer. He trudged over, lifted the hammer, then let out a hollow laugh.

"Ha, if I'd known, I never would've come here. Thought smithing swords forever would've been fine..."

Swords bought from the previous Juttak, origins fuzzy now. Originally on the verge of breaking, rusted wrecks. But now? Masterpieces worthy of the title. Child's play for the continent's top master blacksmith. Give him materials, he'd forge the best, whatever it was.

But despairingly, this dwarf couldn't use them. He made them because he's a dwarf—but can't wield them because he's a dwarf. The curse dwarves bore in exchange for god-given supreme smithing. Unerasable, passed down generations. They couldn't use weapons they'd 'personally' made.

"If I had booze right now, I wouldn't be shaking like this. Even cola's gone, nothing left. Heh..."

His thirst deepened. Hands trembled like Parkinson's. Dolkin thought: if he died to a Yudong Goe-i, he'd surely become a booze-related monster.

As despair thickened...

With a ding, he checked the market board with a despondent face.

"...Beer? What the hell. And dried squid?"

Whatever it was, if the Juttak posted it, like the cola, it'd be no ordinary item. A day from death anyway. No point hoarding points now.

Strange appearance. Large glass mug. Yellowish liquid bubbling foam on top, covered in a blanket of froth. He brought it to his nose—malt and alcohol scent wafted. He yanked it away in shock.

"...!!"

Eyes wide. Alcohol scent he hadn't smelled in ages. Yes, booze. A drink the booze-loving dwarf race had never tasted. His first 'booze' ever.

But the chill from the glass felt off. Booze was usually lukewarm, not yellow like this.

"..."

He swallowed, smacking his lips. Booze in front of him—warm or cold, who cares. Booze is booze.

"Gonna die anyway, doesn't matter! Alright, let's try it!"

Full of anticipation, he chugged the beer mug. Gulp gulp—over half gone in a flash.

"Kuh-! Damn, refreshing!!"

Wiping foam from his mouth, reflexive praise. The chill down his throat mixed with alcohol—pure bliss. Lukewarm booze he'd known? No longer booze. This long-awaited booze hit hard, head spinning. He wanted to savor it.

Instinctively, he grabbed the dried squid beside it, popped it in.

"Wha, haha! What the hell is this...!"

Chewy, mouth filled with salty sea flavor. Beer's bitter edge with squid's salt—perfect combo. Dwarf life's best feast.

Above all, didn't know the creature, but its presence was massive. Looked like kraken kin.

Mug and squid emptied in a blink. Lying on the floor, he smiled.

"Burp. Kuhuu... Fucking satisfying. Nice last gift. If not here, would've been lifelong masterpiece. Shame."

Flat on his back, awaiting doom—

"What. Final goodbye? Perfect timing. Gotta say thanks."

But the next message made him bolt up, thinking he'd misread. Impossible.

"I-I can live...?"