The Problem With Making Skillbooks Too Well

The next day.

"Even looking at it a second time, that's really a hundred million won."

Ha Dohyun sank into deep thought. There were still pieces of this that refused to add up. Had that whole patriotic spiel actually won him the Sword Emperor's favor...?

"No chance."

Patriot or not, the Sword Emperor would have written that off as nonsense. If running his mouth like that had actually bumped the price, Dohyun would have marched over to the man's house waving a Korean flag a long time ago.

"So he figured it out, then?"

Without Quality Certification, you supposedly had to inspect an item in person to know its true worth. But judging by the Sword Emperor's reaction, he might have recognized its value at a glance. Then again, a username like Sword Emperor belonged to an ultra-rare class in its own right. He probably had some special method of seeing through things.

Or maybe the hundred million won up front was his way of saying don't you dare emigrate?

"...Hmm."

It seemed he'd pulled off something far bigger than he'd imagined. He decided to look on the bright side. After all, this was the kind of ability that could turn pig skin into an S-rank skillbook.

"Well, I'll save the country going forward — and since things have turned out this way, I might as well get my own cut too."

He had a hundred million won now, so maybe he'd order some fried chicken — no, wait. Jokbal first.

He put in an order for jokbal on a delivery app, then started humming as he browsed the internet for things worth buying. For a long time, it had always stopped at window shopping. But now he actually had the means to pull the trigger.

"I should buy my little sister a laptop first."

When you have money, you use it — that was the rule. He didn't even need to worry about getting flagged for suddenly splashing cash around. He'd taken the payment in cash precisely because he'd seen this coming, and a no-account cash deposit wouldn't leave a trail worth catching anyway.

Truthfully, even after awakening as an F-rank, he hadn't particularly wanted to report himself to the government. But he'd been tempted by the tuition support benefits they were offering. They even covered a family member's tuition in full.

While he was on a roll, he called his younger sister.

Brrring. Brrring.

"Hey, it's me. Yuna."

"Oppa? Have you been doing okay?"

"Eating well enough. You? Nothing going on?"

They traded greetings and idle chatter for a while.

"But you sound like you're in a good mood, Oppa. Did something happen?"

Ha Dohyun flinched. Was it that obvious? He'd been secretly itching to brag about the hundred million, but—

"You need anything? A laptop would be nice, right?"

"A laptop? Well, I was thinking of saving up and buying a used one."

"Yeah. You said design work is better on an Apple, right?"

"Those ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are insanely expensive, though...? Are you sure, Oppa?"

"I know. I'll get you an iPad to match. The expensive one."

"...Did you win the lottery?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Close enough. Better than that, actually. Don't worry about a thing — just keep going to college. As for the country, I'll handle it somehow, so don't stress too much."

"Pfft. You didn't like, sign up for a clinical trial of some brain-melting drug, did you?"

"Heh. Nope. Just don't go spreading rumors about me. You need allowance money too, right?"

"Well, allowance would be nice, but..."

"Call me 'dearest brother.'"

"Hmph. Unbelievable."

He transferred every last bit of the five million won sitting in his account.

"Check if the money came through."

"Hah! What is this? Oppa, I think I just got voice-phished!"

She sounded thoroughly worked up.

"How is it voice phishing if money came in?"

"Oh. Right? But Oppa, you didn't send this by mistake, did you? This is way too much."

"What, I was originally going to send fifty million. I accidentally left off a zero."

"Dearest brother, I love you."

"Ugh. That's creepy. And greedy, too."

Goosebumps rising, he hung up. Then he sent a text.

True to form, his little sister circled back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worry about him two, three times over.

"Aigoo. She could just take the money and be done with it."

Ha Dohyun sent her several more replies telling her not to worry. He stuffed the laptop she'd asked for with every option available, and picked the top-of-the-line iPad in the same size. Just like that, he'd spent roughly fifteen million won on his sister alone.

And then, all of a sudden, it hit him.

"Tch. Even with all this, I still can't get my hands on any Points."

Overseas, the marketplace tended to trade in Points. But the Korean marketplace used won, and the government had a policy of buying up the entire domestic Point supply. It didn't sit well with him. It felt a little too much like looking at Korea's current standing in the international community.

"What is this, a currency crisis?"

...Or maybe not. If you really thought about it, this was worse than a currency crisis. If they were still short on Points two months from now, gates would tear open all over the country and the nation would physically collapse.

"Ah, man. If I sold skillbooks overseas I'd rake in a ton of Points."

Ha Dohyun lapsed into thought for a moment. S-rank skillbooks were genuinely rare. Fewer than fifty had ever been discovered, and most of those were estimated to have been temporary — and even those had been snapped up by China and the United States, who paid staggering amounts of Points for them.

Selling skillbooks would definitely bring in a considerable haul of Points. But there was a very important problem.

"No matter how I look at it, selling directly to foreign buyers is dangerous."

What would happen if word got out that he could mass-produce S-rank temporary skillbooks? He wasn't joking — his life might actually be in danger. Did anyone honestly think they'd stop at paying a premium for the skillbooks themselves, for "research purposes"? They already treated Korea as a country that was going to collapse anyway. They'd try to talk him over, and when that failed, they'd just kidnap him. They might even drag his family into it, all under the banner of a little "leverage."

"...Hmm."

Ha Dohyun turned it over in his mind. That was a non-starter. He was still searching for a smarter way forward when a notification arrived.

The Sword Emperor had left a transaction review and sent a friend request.

"A friend request?"

Mildly puzzled, he added the Sword Emperor as a friend. Personal messages arrived in a rapid string.

"Wow. So this is the Sword Emperor."

Sending a personal message through the system consumed Points. And the Sword Emperor currently held the record for bringing the most Points into Korea — he was a patriot through and through. He could afford to spend that much.

Even at a glance, the man seemed rattled. He'd paid out precious Points for a secured channel for one reason only: to protect an unidentified S-rank skillbook crafter.

"...I should be careful."

It was pig skin, and it was the Korean marketplace that traded in won, so he'd listed it casually enough. He wasn't even receiving the money through a bank account.

He'd even handed over his phone number. Dohyun was about to send a thank-you reply when another alert popped up.

"Ah. Right."

Ha Dohyun scratched his head. He'd never climbed the Tower, so of course he had no Points.

"Tch."

He scratched his head again. He'd already been wrestling with this. Was hiding his identity the right call? Or was revealing it the right call? And if he did reveal it, how much was he allowed to reveal?

On top of that, the skillbook delivery deadline was coming up fast.

"Ugh. Too many problems stacked on top of each other."

Ha Dohyun swallowed a groan. A hundred million won. Keeping his identity hidden. The skillbook delivery deadline. If he wanted to knock out all of it in one stroke, he just had to contact the Sword Emperor. The man was one of the few people carrying the country on his back — he was absolutely trustworthy.

But what if the secret leaked through someone around him? A reporting line, for instance.

"Hmm. Let's think this through carefully."

It wasn't urgent right this second.

"Hah. For now, I should just start making F-rank skillbooks."

F-rank skillbooks still counted toward the delivery quota in place of Points, after all. His crafting speed was fast, so anything he produced over the mandatory amount would pay out in cash. If the source of his money ever became a problem, he could just use that as a cover.

He opened the marketplace and started picking out materials for skillbooks.

Ten million won.

"What? Why is this so expensive?"

He skipped the carving knife. A five-thousand-won one was plenty.

"Shit. That's ridiculously expensive."

The curse slipped out on its own. Mana-treated or not, who charged five hundred thousand won a sheet? He still had eighty-five million of the hundred million left, and he knew the government reimbursed expenses on delivered skillbooks — but it still felt painfully wasteful. He couldn't keep using pig skin forever, though.

"Hss. Let's just use a little of the pigment."

Parchment and pigment together ran him five million won. Honestly, he could have spent more aggressively as an investment, but—

"Alright. Let's just make one and see."

He'd knocked out a C-rank in no time before. An F-rank should be even easier. He set to work.

A short while later.

"Huh?"

Ha Dohyun stared. He'd been trying to make an F-rank, and instead — whether it was the materials or not — he'd gone and made a B-rank.

"What the hell is this?"

A B-rank skillbook, from nothing but basic circuits. And a two-week one, at that!

Bzzzt. A text came in.

"This is... a lot, actually."

It wasn't that he was scared. There was a reason the Sword Emperor had spent Points on a personal message just to bring up spies. An F-rank Artisan suddenly mass-producing B-rank skillbooks for delivery? From basic circuits alone?

It wasn't a bad thing, strictly speaking. If anything, it was a good thing. The problem was that he was making them too well. Just as the Sword Emperor had said, the information would leak. Guaranteed.

"That's not happening."

There was no other way. He'd have to deliberately use worse materials and botch them on purpose. But the moment he actually sat down to make an F-rank, something about it felt wrong.

"...Ugh."

He ignored the way his hands trembled and forced himself through it anyway.

"What is with this?"

Ha Dohyun was at a loss. No matter what he did, the rank wouldn't drop below C. He had a pretty good idea why.

"It's because I'm EX-rank, isn't it."

Imagine a professional illustrator trying to mimic a kindergartener's drawing. No matter how wobbly they made the lines, it wouldn't matter. Even when they tried to ruin it, their instincts still kicked in — composition, color placement, the whole of it. In other words, you could never truly reproduce a kindergartener's drawing.

"Hss. Now what."

Before he knew it, he'd gone and made several C-rank skillbooks. At five hundred thousand won a hide, no less.

He was still turning it over when a special news segment popped up on the YouTube homepage.

"Oh...?"

Ha Dohyun sat up. He tapped into the first video. The panelists were beaming at each other, tossing the conversation back and forth.

"Professor, if the Sword Emperor succeeds in climbing the 40th Floor, approximately how many related Points would that yield?"

"Roughly speaking, we can estimate around 200,000. That's including the additional amount from the increased Point coefficient."

And there it was — the words 200,000 Points splashed across the headline in enormous letters.

"...Hah. Th-that many?"

Ha Dohyun was stunned. Two hundred thousand Points. Enough to fill two percent of the ten-million-Point shortfall in a single stroke. It was a genuinely insane number.

The chat window beside the video was losing its mind right along with him.

Ha Dohyun found himself in a pretty good mood. No matter how he looked at it, there was only one reason the Sword Emperor would suddenly announce a 40th Floor climb.

The S-rank skillbook Dohyun had sold him. The Monomolecular Sword.

It had been a test piece, so the duration was only five minutes — but that was just how it looked on paper. In terms of actual performance, it was an S-rank skillbook through and through.

"I probably don't need to worry."

Someone of the Sword Emperor's caliber would handle it just fine. He'd have an emergency escape ticket on him, at the very least.

"Yeah, what's the point of worrying about the Sword Emperor? I should be worrying about myself."

Right now, he needed to find a way to make F-rank skillbooks.

"Do I seriously have to blow a party horn while I work?"

A laugh slipped out. There had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been a time when he'd sweated over a single F-rank for two hours. The fact that he was earnestly considering this now was absurd.

"No, wait."

He'd just end up hurting his hands. He'd be better off using the skillbooks and climbing the Tower himself.

"Hm?"

Ha Dohyun felt a flicker of confusion. Why did that actually sound like it made sense...?

Come to think of it, there was no law saying an Artisan couldn't climb the Tower. Production-class hunters generally didn't go anywhere near it, that was all.

"Wait. What if I just climb it myself?"

Ha Dohyun arrived at a very important realization. If he made a pile of S-rank skillbooks and handed them out to a bunch of different people, you'd get a bunch of copied S-rank hunters... but what if he gathered every last one of those skillbooks onto a single person?

"...No way."

He swallowed, and opened his status window again.