Modern Weapons Gallery (1)

A single chat message flickered onto the screen like a lifeline in the middle of a disaster.

Never in her entire life had such an utterly deflating message sounded so sweet. Pressed flat against the charred earth to dodge the Bone Dragon's mana breath, Eliana typed frantically with trembling fingers.

To Juddak, Full-Health Elf was like an overly enthusiastic rookie employee. She was a volunteer worker—or rather, a loyal slave—who dutifully endured eye-rotting tactical nukes day in and day out after having the unpaid rank of Paddak forcibly thrust upon her. Knowing she was an elf, he had deduced she was caught right in the middle of El-Ladh's defensive Wave.

"KROOOAAAR!"

"Aaargh!"

The Bone Dragon's tail whipped across the clearing. Where such monstrous force originated from a skeleton stripped of all flesh was beyond comprehension, but the sweep snapped ancient trees clean in half. Eliana's gaze darted around in pure desperation.

"Something to trade, anything to register!"

Yet all around her lay nothing but roaring azure flames and drifting cinders.

"KRAAAHH!"

The dragon's cavernous jaws gaped wide, spewing a fresh torrent of flame.

"!"

She rolled aside, dodging incineration by a hair's breadth, but the searing heat caught the tips of her long hair. Singed strands drifted down across her trembling fingers. In that split second, a desperate thought crossed her mind.

"N-No, not this!"

Tempting though the thought was, she shook her head frantically. She considered cutting off a strip of her tunic instead, but lacked a blade sharp enough to shear the fabric quickly. As for jewelry, she wore none. In the end, cornered by mortal peril, she gathered her severed golden locks and swiftly braided them into a crude bracelet.

"It worked!"

Eliana nearly raised both fists to the sky in triumph. No one understood the sheer absurdity of Juddak's inventory better than she did. Serving as his Paddak, she had witnessed firsthand the nonsensical relics and impossible goods he wielded.

The Head Mod is the one who solved the entire continent's food crisis single-handedly.

Whatever he sent was bound to exceed her wildest expectations. Yet when the dimensional flash subsided, what materialized before her were ten small, rigid, grooved metal cylinders.

"W-What?"

Each was barely the size of a fist—just small enough to grip comfortably. As she stared in utter bewilderment, new chat pings flashed across her vision.

So his grand strategy was... chucking pebbles? A wave of betrayal washed over her.

"And here I thought we were actually friends!"

Drawn to his bizarre turns of phrase and strange concepts from another world, she had considered him a close companion. She had even harbored a fond affection for him. Had it all been an illusion? Tears welled in her eyes as the world seemed to spin, but Eliana bit her lip hard.

"Dammit! I don't care anymore!"

If she didn't place her faith in this, she was dead anyway. Just then, razor-sharp talons plunged from her blind spot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠straight toward her cover.

"Aaaaargh!"

A brutal strike slashed across her shoulder. Her pupils dilated as searing agony tore through her flesh. The only saving grace was that the wound had stopped shy of bone.

Click!

Relying on elven intuition, she yanked the ring pin free in one swift motion and glared up at the Bone Dragon.

"Do not die to this, you hear me?!"

"KROOOH?!"

Infusing her throw with the ultimate elven spite, she hurled the High-Explosive Grenade with every ounce of strength left in her body. Leaving her hand in a clean, graceful arc, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the cylinder traced a perfect trajectory straight toward the dragon's skull—

Clink.

"Huh...?"

With an anticlimactic metallic ping, the grenade bounced off the skull and rolled pathetically across the scorched grass, coming to a rest right between the beast's talons.

"Graaagh?"

Even the Bone Dragon blinked down at the tiny ball in visible confusion. Eliana's fragile glimmer of hope collapsed into pitch-black despair. Had Juddak really played her for a fool? Was she truly nothing more than an expendable Paddak Slave Unit 1? If she was going to die like this, she should have at least ordered fried chicken from the forum first.

A thousand chaotic thoughts screamed through her mind. Just as her fingers began to type her final words into the chatbox—

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

"Eeeeeeek?!"

An overwhelming violence from the future detonated across the silence.

The colossal explosion shook heaven and earth. There had been no preliminary signs, no chanting, and not a single particle of ambient mana. Pure destructive force had simply erupted from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nothingness into being.

"Ugh... ngh... what in the world..."

Though she had been positioned well beyond the lethal radius, the concussive shockwave had tossed her backward onto the turf. Eliana cautiously raised her head. All that greeted her eyes were shattered, marrow-rich bone fragments that looked ready to be simmered into broth, and an approaching elven relief battalion standing frozen in place, their souls visibly departing their bodies.

"Ha... haha..."

A hollow laugh slipped from her lips. Those low-effort shitposts Juddak had uploaded recently about 'zero-mana, zero-casting offensive armaments'—they hadn't been delusional ramblings after all?

"Wait... is the Head Mod a High-Rank Mage?"

No, a High-Rank Mage couldn't pull this off in their wildest dreams. Perfectly condensing explosive magic and sealing it indefinitely inside an inert vessel was a mad feat reserved for Archmages alone—no, truth be told, not even historical Archmages had ever developed such a technique. While Eliana sat trembling with her hair reduced to a disheveled mess, one of the elven soldiers in the rear opened his system interface and muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit, this is front-page hall-of-fame material."

Whatever the case, the crystal orb recording of this battle was destined to dominate the gallery's recommended posts for at least a year.

"Figures it would end up like this."

The gallery never had a peaceful day. First the Wave threw everyone into panic, and now the sudden intrusion of modern civilization had turned the entire community upside down. While there were plenty of high-tier spells capable of producing such an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠explosion, deploying one instantly without casting or a single trace of mana was fundamentally inconceivable to this world. Consequently, the front page was choked with demands for an explanation, calls for transparency, and fanatical praise.

I had even stepped in to leave a comment to calm the frenzy down, but...

Not working in the slightest. Not even a nibble.

In the end, I gave up trying to douse the flames. That was just the nature of an internet board anyway. After banning a few opportunistic tactical nukes uploaded amidst the chaos, I shifted my attention down to the woven band around my wrist.

"She gave it to me, so I've been wearing it, but..."

I had no idea what it actually did. The material appeared to be simple braided hair, but the system had registered it with the grandiose title of 'Elf Hair-Braided Token.' Surely an item with a name like that had to possess some hidden stat buff or passive effect. That expectation was the sole reason I had kept it strapped to my arm.

Had the mortal danger during the Wave fried her brain? Her thought process was all over the place. Telling me 'under no circumstances should you look it up' was practically begging me to search for it immediately.

When in doubt, asking the gallery was always the quickest route. Barely seconds after uploading, the view counter surged upward at blinding speed.

"The perks of being Head Mod."

I figured I would have an answer in under a minute, but before even ten seconds had passed, a stark red notification slammed across the screen.

"W-What the hell?"

She had been monitoring the board like a hawk and axed it herself. And the reason was obscenity? Driven by sheer curiosity, I reposted it twice more, only for each thread to be nuked from orbit the instant it hit the feed.

"She's actually taking this that seriously?"

The more she panicked, the more I wanted to poke at it. Still, I resolved to ask around about the bracelet's hidden property whenever another opportunity arose, because my eye was caught by an unfamiliar kind of thread sitting at the top of the latest post feed.

"Now what is this?"

It was bait from a beastfolk lurker who had spent all this time hiding in the shadows—and a representative of the rabbit tribe, no less.