The Rainbow Snail and the Guaranteed Summoning Scroll

The Random Synthesis Blueprint Box — runes, skill books, crafting materials, and the like.

Day dungeons and ordinary dungeon rewards were rarely anything special. Runes were the worst offenders. Everything hinged on probability: roll the gacha over and over until a good option finally popped, and if you then took that masterpiece rune, enhanced it, and every option rolled at its maximum cap? That was a graduation rune.

Top-tier graduation runes were said to be worth a fortune, but they were, in the end, something anyone could obtain eventually — you simply had to keep grinding the odds long enough.

But the rewards of the Tower of Ordeal were a different animal entirely.

Rare! Scarcity was the bare minimum. Unique! Some were quite possibly one of a kind. Which was why no one had ever compiled a list of what the Tower could drop — new rewards were still surfacing to this very day.

One of them was the B-grade Rainbow Snail.

The gift Yoo Jia had given to Baek Jinwoo's mother, Hwang Myeonghui.

"...What on earth is this?"

Yoo Jia had already departed, and Hwang Myeonghui could only watch in fascination as the snail crept in a slow, glistening trail along her forearm.

Baek Jincheol chuckled. "It told you to read its skill, didn't it? Try pulling up the status window."

"Status window?"

The moment she murmured the words, information unfurled in midair.

"Oh my goodness, what is this?"

Hwang Myeonghui's eyes went round. She had adapted to the changed world well enough that a summon itself didn't faze her, but...

Skin whitening? Wrinkle improvement? Is this really what a summon is for?

Squirm, squirm! The destination the snail wriggled toward was none other than Hwang Myeonghui's hand. Onto that skin, chapped and roughened by years of hard labor, it began dabbing its mucus — splat! splat!

The mucus was a vanishingly small amount. And nothing changed. All she felt was a sticky, clammy sensation.

"I suppose it's just some kind of cosmetic. You know, like that snail cream they sell."

"Hehe, you think? The world really has changed. Gifting a summon to use in place of cosmetics, of all things."

"Right? This little fella is still cute, though."

When Hwang Myeonghui stroked the tiny shell, the wriggling creature was dismissed back into summon space. Thinking nothing more of it, she traded cozy chatter with Baek Jincheol until she drifted off to sleep.

And then, the next morning. She was washing her face to leave for work, same as any other day—

"Wh-what?!"

Hwang Myeonghui froze in shock. My hand? Her left hand, reflected in the mirror, looked nothing like her right. The change was on an entirely different level. The skin had turned visibly whiter, the wrinkles partially smoothed away — the work-worn hand that had always been so coarse was unmistakably soft and lovely now.

After a single day, no less.

I look almost twenty years younger...? Is that even possible? Even amid the shock, her heart began to pound — because she had worked out the culprit: the snail mucus she'd dabbed on yesterday. What would happen if she kept applying this once a day, over her entire body, face included? Surely she would look younger. Surely she would look beautiful.

The wish to look beautiful was every woman's desire, and Hwang Myeonghui was no exception.

First things first — I'll apply it meticulously, every single day.

Her footsteps as she rose to prepare breakfast seemed somehow lighter than usual.

The Rainbow Snail.

At the thought, a smile blossomed across Yoo Jia's face. If this round of family care had one place that had hurt the wallet most, it was that snail. So scarce that no data on it existed and it had never made a name for itself — and yet Yoo Jia knew exactly what it could do. After all, I've felt a touch of its effects myself.

The truth was that Daesung had discovered the Rainbow Snail in its earliest days. One of their affiliated players had pulled it as a floor 1 reward from the Tower of Ordeal.

Their players' first reactions had been, naturally, exactly that. But what was Daesung, after all! Was it not the place where the nation's shrewdest merchants had gathered!

"A skin-improvement summon?"

The higher the reports climbed, the more brilliantly every executive's eyes gleamed.

"Skin is money."

"We could take on the women of the entire world."

"First things first — the efficacy! Let's research exactly what it can do."

Under the executives' direction, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠full-scale snail research began. And the results—

"This is insane!"

"The effects are unbelievably dramatic! We might just blow the existing beauty market to pieces!"

"Forget skin improvement — this is skin reconstruction! No, surgery couldn't even manage this. Simply applying it rejuvenates your cells!"

Of course, the research was still in its early stages, so no one knew how long the effects would hold. Even so, the change was more than enough to justify deep study and serious investment.

"Analyze the composition of that mucus — right now!"

Daesung's research teams descended on the mucus en masse. But—

"It's perfectly ordinary."

"No different from common snail mucus."

"...It seems the skin transformation only occurs when the summon's skill is present in the mucus. Much like a summon's healing, you see."

And if the special mucus could not be manufactured separately?

"The snails! We must secure as many of these limited-edition snails as possible!"

"Exactly. We monopolize them before another company catches wind!"

"Post on every marketplace board in the world. Anyone holding a Rainbow Snail is to contact us first! Price is irrelevant — persuade them and buy them all up!"

And so, having mobilized from the very beginning, Daesung had absorbed oblivious players' Rainbow Snails from every corner of the globe. A staggering fifty-four of them!

The business venture was now underway: raise a vast, opulent facility where clients could receive premium skincare treatments. In the process, a few snails had been distributed among the women of the Daesung family, and Yoo Jia had received one as a gift as well.

Which meant she had handed Hwang Myeonghui a cosmetic of staggering value.

But, well. Yoo Jia didn't particularly care. She had already had it applied across her whole body, and her skin had been flawless to begin with — the snail had never shown her anything dramatic. Besides, she could walk into Daesung for free treatments any time she pleased. What was there to miss?

What mattered was the snail's worth. Once Daesung's business launched in earnest? The rumors would spread like wildfire, and the snail's value would rocket beyond the clouds. Wouldn't a hundred billion won be a laughing matter to clear? Only a hundred existed on the entire planet, and Daesung would hardly sell them off — they were only going to become scarcer.

Still, it's fine. Yoo Jia smiled. Hwang Myeonghui was worthy of a gift of exactly that caliber. Why?

Because she was the hope of Korea's future and the treasure of "Yubaek" — the woman who had given birth to Jinugod.

"Wow. Seriously."

Back in the open clearing after conquering floor 1, Baek Jinwoo let out a hollow laugh. "Classic luck-based piece-of-shit game."

Before him sat a single box.

It was the Tower of Ordeal's floor 1 reward — and it was honestly hilarious. The reward itself had already been random, and now they wanted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him to roll the dice again on what came out of it? Open the box, and a random "synthesis blueprint" popped out. The very same blueprint that dropped from Saturday dungeon rewards — the kind that let you forge all manner of items at the synthesis shop.

"Whatcha waiting for, Jinwoo! Let's crack it open right now!" Ramba hollered, perching herself on his shoulder. Munch, munch. She sank her teeth into the cream bun he'd bought her once floor 1 wrapped up.

Still, it's a Tower of Ordeal reward. Surely something special will come out, right?

...he would have liked to believe so, but the box held more than its share of duds. Floor 1 in particular was the bottom rung of the tower — the odds of a Unique appearing there were rock bottom.

"My Lord. We shall proceed with training ahead of you." Whoosh! Hungyo raised his sword as he spoke.

"Eh? The second we get back?" Ramba's face crumpled on the verge ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of tears.

"What nonsense. At full strength, the one-eyed ones come in packs. How does one propose to survive on skill as shabby as yours? Prepare yourself — and be quick about it."

"Hiiiiiiiing..."

Even as she clutched her head and turned away, Ramba found herself floating helplessly up into the air. Thanks to Hungyo's skill, Charisma, refusing training was simply not an option.

Pfft. Baek Jinwoo chuckled. Yeah. What did rewards matter? What mattered was ceaseless training and growth. However fine the loot, it meant nothing if the summons themselves weren't strong.

Let's just tear it open.Riiip! Baek Jinwoo split the box open without ceremony.

"Guaranteed Summoning Scroll?" What in the world was that? He pulled up the information at once.

Insane.

It was a breed of summoning scroll he had never laid eyes on. It simply guaranteed you the summon of your choice? Hold on, then... Even the EX-grade summons I want?

This was the tricky part. In Battle of Summoners, the B-grade summons that had gotten hit with patches during Jinugod's run numbered exactly two: the Whirlwind Slayer and the Rune Dwarf. Both were overwhelmingly, catastrophically broken.

The question is whether the system classifies them as B-grade or EX-grade. If it ruled them EX-grade, no way this scroll could pull them.

But. Then again, who knew? Ramba, Hungyo, Pokryongi — all three were EX-grade, yet all three had appeared from low-grade scrolls. Which meant you could just as easily read it as the system still regarding them as E-grade and D-grade...

Whoa. If he really could draw Doldori and Lund with this? That would be flatly absurd. They were already monsters as it was. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Scam stacked upon scam? Doldori was a summon that delivered impossible performance in PVP, and Lund, given time and materials, would forge any rune with any option he desired. In a game where graduation runes were the endgame, a summon that manufactured graduation runes? Naturally, the balance patch had come for him.

Though the materials are kind of hell, aren't they?

You could grant that World Tree Leaves showed up now and then as Saturday dungeon materials. King's Proof is going to be the real killer. King's Proof was a character-bound item — a crafting material dropped one at a time by the racial king that ruled every tenth floor of the Tower of Ordeal. And being character-bound, it could be neither bought nor sold. Which meant that, right now, he would have to take down Cyclops (S-grade) to craft that scroll!

I'll just make one first. Only once the scroll existed would he get a read on whether those two were even drawable. Doldori, Lund — which of the two to summon first was a question for later.

"Let's get to it."

Another day of steady training began. He intended to keep up the breakneck pace all the way until the Tower of Ordeal's tenth floor fell.