The Witch's Buried Acorn
The slime clinging to his face, this saber, and the monster that had appeared out of nowhere—Lake froze like stone.
"Isabel... c-calm down. This fish—"
As Lake said, the Uruk was nodding its head and circling around.
'Whiskers...'
Isabel examined the Uruk closely. It was using its whiskers like a cane, constantly probing the ground.
'I thought it just looked like a catfish...'
Having realized something, Isabel pulled a bead from her pocket. Then she rolled it across the ground.
Roll...
The Uruk made a strange noise as it tried to chase the bead but stopped.
'It noticed because of the size.'
Isabel organized her thoughts. Everything was clear now.
"Lake. Tests have a lot of variables, don't they?"
"Y-yeah."
"Waiting for that fish to go away like this is too inefficient, right?"
"You... no way."
"You'll be the bait."
At Isabel's firm declaration, Lake bit his lip hard.
'Me as bait? If some other bastard suggested this, I'd blow their head off!'
"That's why I said we should've gone earlier when I told you!"
Lake shouted loudly, and sensing the slight vibration, the Uruk approached. Slimy face and whiskers—even up close, it was even grosser.
"Uruk?"
"Hey... got a problem?"
Lake hunched his posture as Isabel, already fuming with anger, glared at him. He knew her personality all too well.
"I meant there might be another way..."
"You know it too. It only senses vibrations with those probing whiskers. Just distract it for a bit, and I'll roast the fish for you."
Urged by Isabel, Lake wore a frustrated expression. Either way, his choices were limited to two: the ill-tempered witch or the disgusting fish. He had to face one of them no matter what.
'Damn it. Being weak is my sin.'
Lake glared at Isabel once more before yelling loudly.
"Urgh... fuck! Come here, you fish bastard!"
He deliberately ran off, stomping to create vibrations.
"Ururuk!"
The Uruk chased after him fiercely. Isabel watched the scene with a satisfied look, confirming the distance from the Uruk before placing her hand on the red gem tucked into her uniform.
'Wonder if it'll work even in a virtual gate.'
The gem was an artifact. A high-grade one ranked mystic.
"Buried acorn."
Screeech.
With the artifact's activation phrase, the ambient mana density spiked, and the air churned violently. The gem's name was Squirrel. Normally, it absorbed and stored surrounding mana.
But uttering the activation phrase like this transferred the stored mana back to its owner. An expensive artifact that even conglomerates or guilds couldn't easily obtain.
This item was proof of Isabel's not just talent, but solid backing as well.
Your condition is excellent.
In response to her stigma, Blaze's question, Isabel replied indifferently.
"Yeah?"
Isabel's stigma glowed red, and the explosive mana wave fluttered her cheeks.
"Kyaaak! Isabel! How long?!"
Splash!
Lake's life hung by a thread against the Uruk's tail attack, swung like an iron mace. Contrary to Lake's urgent question, Isabel was relaxed.
"Don't worry. I already used it."
"What?"
Only then did Lake notice the massive shadow on the ground. He looked up at the sky.
"Ha, haha. This is insane."
Whoosh!
The shadow's true nature was a fireball. A fireball larger than the Uruk itself. The magic art manifested by Isabel—the academy's greatest talent in history—even with artifact aid, was anything but ordinary.
"Hey, you rotten bitch! This ain't right!"
Lake quickly hid behind a tree and activated his mana shield. But it was like trying to block the sun with a palm.
Ku—
The fireball struck the ground near Lake and the Uruk, and a gust erupted from the impact point.
Kaboom!
The explosion carved out a crater, sending vibrations rippling out. The damage shredded massive trees like paper, hurling rock fragments and debris everywhere. Unidentifiable wreckage swept the area, kicking up dust.
Whoooosh.
Only after a long while did the dust slowly, very slowly, begin to settle.
All that remained was a massive pit proving the earlier commotion—and Isabel herself.
Lake has been eliminated.
3 participants remain.
The proctor announced the number of surviving students across the entire gate. Arms crossed, Isabel kept her gaze fixed on the pit.
"Hey~ Sorry about that."
There wasn't a shred of remorse on Isabel's face.
"I figured you'd survive."
Isabel apologized, but of course, no reply came from the pit.
[Owner of the Lake] has been subjugated.
With Uruk's death, Everline Lake will soon regain its original beauty.
The government has prepared a reward to commend Hunter Isabel's achievement.
"Enough with the lore. Time to collect the rewards?"
Isabel descended into the pit. At its center, seemingly untouched by the explosion, 30 five-point orbs lay gathered.
"I thought it'd be quick, but you made me work for it..."
She had already secured a substantial number of point orbs. Waiting for the test to end like this wouldn't be a bad result. But Isabel wanted total victory. And revenge.
"Really. What a ridiculous mess."
Thinking about it, she'd taken a solid hit. A hidden event with a boss mob? What a cheeky gift.
[It's a gift!]
Recalling Zien's taunt, Isabel chuckled slyly.
"Yeah. Four-eyes. I'll make sure to repay your gift personally, so just wait..."
Virtual Gate Test 1.
The weak team of Zien and Aria.
The strong team, but now solo: Isabel.
Watching the tense showdown between the two teams, Brodo let out an exclamation.
"Glad I came! Look, they already reeled in a big one."
He pointed to Zien on Screen 1.
G Channel, the popular game broadcaster.
1st place prize: 500 million coins.
Total prizes: 3 billion coins.
A massive game show with a total production cost of 20 billion coins was about to air. Possible only because of sponsorship from mega-corp IG for the top-ranked game Battle Survival.
And Brodo was the chief producer of this program.
Beside him was assistant PD Caston, with eyes like dead fish.
"You're awfully chipper, sir. Honestly, I'm all for collabing with sabers too—saber merch sells well. But do we have to scout them all ourselves? Why?"
Caston grumbled incessantly, clearly displeased. Brodo slyly handed him some vitamins.
"Your constant bitching is from vitamin deficiency. If the show's popular, that's it. What's the problem?"
"No, why are we personally casting all 99 recruits? I said do it first-come or by grades!"
"What? Grab any random participants? Is the legwork that hard?"
"'That hard'? Night shifts outnumber day shifts this month! Whoever suggested pitching tents at the station and sleeping there... I'll get 'em."
"What's with you today, man. Hey, Caston."
Brodo made an uncharacteristically serious face, and Caston glanced at him.
"...Yes?"
Brodo took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled.
Scoop. Ha.
He pointed at the screen. It was zoomed in on Zien's face.
"What do you think broadcasting is?"
"Broadcasting? It's broadcasting."
Brodo raised his voice, displeased with the answer.
"No, broadcasting is characters."
'...Here he goes again.'
Brodo, lost in his own thoughts, didn't notice Caston's stiffening expression.
"Characters with drama! Characters are made for the audience."
"Yes, yes... sure."
Caston brushed it off familiarly.
Brodo pointed to Screen 3.
"Screen 3 there. See the handsome boy?"
"Faces like that aren't rare, are they?"
On the screen was a man with sharp features. An androgynous pretty boy—one of the One Numbers.
"That's why you're still green. I told you, characters are key. Didn't you see?"
Excited, Brodo spat as he continued.
"He sliced through three giants in one go? That's the charm of the gap."
Only then did Caston nod.
'Yeah, fair point. This weirdo has skills at least.'
"So the big catch is that guy?"
Caston pointed to Zien on Screen 1, and Brodo nodded proudly.
"Yep. Just checked his file—drama unfolds boom."
Brodo pulled out Zien's personal file and began reading.
"17 years old. Zien Russell. Surname from the orphanage. First semester rank: 162nd."
"Whoa, 162nd..."
Caston sighed checking the ranking on the file.
"Dead last. Figured he was One Number material..."
"Yeah, doesn't qualify as party leader. But!"
Brodo crumpled the file into his pocket.
"If not, slot him as a member."
"And with a face like that, no issue zooming in main cam."
"Exactly. Directing ideas flowing already. Intro: show him, orphanage pic, zoom on a kid whoosh—add narration."
Brodo cleared his throat and spoke in dramatic narration tone.
"Back then, I, Zien Russell, swore at the orphanage. To become a saber! To help the weak! To protect the citizens! Staccato tick-tick-tick!"
"Ooh~ Orphan saber! Got vibe? But it's a variety show—do we need to go that far? What if he complains about editing?"
"Done this once or twice? If he doesn't like it, he can direct it himself."
Brodo whipped up a scouting offer letter, stood, as if there was nothing more to see. Caston, who had been staring at the screen, asked in surprise.
"Whoa, you leaving?"
"Show ain't just about picking the strong ones. I'm going with that kid. Head to Celia Academy now, so watch the rest."
G Channel, the hit game broadcaster.
The scouting offer from the chief PD went into a square envelope.
If Selphis, who prioritized school honor and promotion above all, learned of this, he might even bust out a joy dance.