Critical Heal

"That'll do. Absolute dogshit."

I said it to close out the conversation with Windy, and I thought I'd only flipped the mic live afterward.

Or maybe my hand had moved ahead of my mouth.

"What about it?"

"Me?"

Foreign viewers were already scattered through the audience, so playing innocent wasn't going to fly. And of all moments, the mic had clicked on in the one brief lull when the chat had gone a little quiet.

"Hmm."

Trying to explain that it wasn't what it sounded like didn't look like it would mean much. The users who lived to repost would spin it into a fight no matter what I said, and somehow I'd gone and locked in a misunderstanding with no way in or out.

"This is awkward. I've created quite the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠misunderstanding."

"Yes. I said absolute dogshit. I never said the Skeleton Summoner is absolute dogshit."

"No comment on that."

"No... I said no comment. How does that count as speaking my mind?"

I hadn't meant to, but I'd just poured oil onto a fire that was already roaring. In no time my remark was screenshotted onto the community's trending posts, and it didn't take long after that for the screenshot to reach Bulldog.

"Oh."

Every word came through a full scowl, and stacked on top of that build of his, it put out a genuinely frightening air. I flinched. Just a little. What if he actually tracked me down and swung on me? Not that the security on this tower was the kind of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place just anyone could barge into.

Maybe I was simply fated to be an attention whore. Why was a mess like this so much fun? Watching the viewers split into camps and tear into each other with more investment than I had—without me even stepping in—a pleased smile rose all on its own.

Not a bad outcome, I decided. If a jab like this was what it took to push Bulldog into even more outrageous spending, then all the better.

"Hmmm. I'm bored. Should I stock up on a few more essences?"

I went to the auction house, and since I was already buying out the mid-grade, high-grade, and top-grade essences, I swept up the lowest-grade listings that had piled up again while I was at it. Corner the market. A monopoly. Haven had no rule against that kind of thing at the auction house. The house was global to begin with, and every trade there took a five-percent fee. If you could hoard that much volume and still stomach the five-percent cut, then by all means, hoard it. That was the law of Haven's world.

I was sure of it. If the Skeleton Summoner wasn't a 5-Star Root Class, there would be no getting handed an SS-rank skill for free at the start. The reason both Lim Sarang and I had been able to pick up a Level 1 SS-rank skill for nothing was that the Magic Tower and the Temple had given us free-pass quests—because we were the Root Classes those classes were built on.

If you weren't a root, would the Magic Tower really have any reason to greet a mere Level ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠1 class by handing over an SS-rank skill? It wasn't a hundred percent. I didn't particularly care. If they handed the skills out anyway, I'd burn through what I was sitting on, pass a few to Lim Sarang, and dump the rest on the auction house the moment I didn't need them.

"Welcome, Skeleton Summoner."

I glanced over at Bulldog's stream, which I'd left playing off to the side. He was still cursing me out, deep in a speech about how he'd crush me on specs and gun for first place, and then he went straight to rolling his exclusive options. He'd probably retrace the path I'd walked, step for step, hunting for anything even a little better than what I had. Match me, at the very least. Pull ahead in even one thing, and his plan would be a success.

The reason Bulldog was baiting this hard, I figured, was that a successful stream was the real goal. Maybe we were the same breed. For me, streaming success hadn't really been the point. It was just the easiest way to get attention, and the way that got me the most of it. Bulldog probably had enough money to loaf for the rest of his life and had gotten bored anyway.

Pick a fight with me, and some of my three-hundred-thousand-plus regulars would drift over to his stream. The users who weren't watching because of me, but because they wanted to watch someone spend, might even settle in as regulars over there. It didn't really piss me off. I was more curious than anything.

"How does a Skeleton Summoner even fight?"

Was it the skeleton-summoning style I had in mind? If so, a well-rolled exclusive option might turn into a pretty interesting way to grow. I hit subscribe on Bulldog's stream too. Rivalry, whatever. Separate from the hostility aimed at me, it looked like fun. This was a pure attention whore. Nothing on my mind but the entertainment.

The options kept spinning. Meanwhile my own Badge was fusing away, and on the screen I'd left open to the right—Lim Sarang's—options were rolling just as hard, hunting a 3-star SS special.

"Four 4-stars stacked up. One more and I'll take a shot right away."

Bulldog's 1-star SS option had been spinning for quite a while. The price was the only cheap thing about it. An SS option did not come easy, and the conditional damage percent I'd rolled carried lower odds than the other options besides. I was just thinking my own 5-star Badge attempt might land first—

"Oh. It hit."

Lim Sarang's screen, the one only I was watching. The option had landed, and I watched her light up with it.

"Whoa..."

"Insane, right? This is enough to graduate the 3-star SS special option, isn't it? Stamped!"

"Stamped! You pulled a disgustingly good option. Golden hands, as expected."

"Hehe. You're the one who rolled it for me, Siwoo."

"How much did you spend?"

"About five hundred and fifty million won..."

"Wow..."

A 3-star ran the same price as the class itself. Five hundred and fifty million won was a pretty cheap ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pull.

"You really do have golden hands, Sarang. I want to get you to roll my options for me."

"I'd like to, honestly. Why has my luck been so good lately?"

"I sent you two and a half billion won in Haven money."

"Ah— I think that's even more than five hundred and fifty million."

"There's the exchange fee, too. And what's a little money between us~"

"...!"

"Just lay those shields on for me, nice and thick."

I hadn't sent it through WindyPay. Five hundred and fifty million won moving in a single transfer was exactly the kind of thing that got a tax bill flying in from the National Tax Service, and I had no interest in that. The fee for converting and sending might sting more, but this way I dodged the headache, so that's how I sent it. And if it came down to it and Sarang simply spent the money without the exchange fee coming out, that was a gain for her in its own right.

A critical on a shield. Just picturing it was insane.

"So that means I can roll it too, right?"

What if my own magic came with a critical chance? If it was an option that showed up in a 3-star SS special slot, wouldn't it show up for me as well? Or was that another exclusive trait reserved for Root Classes? The thoughts branched.

How did it compare to all skill ranks +1? It looked incredible, but it still didn't look better than all skill ranks +1. Too awkward to slot into a 4-star SS special option, obviously. And if I put it in a 5-star SS option?

"If it handed out something like a sixty percent crit chance, it'd actually be worth slotting."

One nice side effect of 5-star users starting to pop up, one by one, was already plain to see. I didn't have to grind the rolls myself to learn which options were worth having. Other people would show me.

"If a crit lands, I think I can cover everything in white, all the way out!"

"Yeah. It'll cover them all the way down to the root."

"...What?"

"...What did I just say?"

"..."

"My mom's calling. I'll take it and be right back."

The words had slipped out while my mind was somewhere else, and I quit the game on the spot.

I'd already frozen the video feed and killed the mic. For the viewers left serving out a black-screen sentence, it landed like a bolt from the blue.