The Constellation's Game [Laika]

Silver Knights was home to many different organizations.

There was the 1st Knight Order, effectively the public face of the guild, and then there was the HR Selection Division, which oversaw the Entrance Exam... all the way down to the special operations squad made up of a select few elites.

And yet, among them all, there was one organization whose very name remained unknown to the public.

That was the covert unit known as Arcana(ARCANA).

It was the only organization in the entire guild that answered directly to Master Lee Hyunmoo, and nearly all of its activities were classified even within the guild itself.

Ranker Ryu Gangmin was the Team 1 Leader of this place — Arcana.

"Good work out there, Haram."

"I only wish I could say the same. I failed to complete the assignment, so an apology is all I have to offer."

Today, summoned to Arcana Headquarters, sat Baek Haram — a player from the HR Selection Division.

The reason for his summons was, of course, the mission he had recently carried out. After all, the very reason 'that mission' had been handed to Haram through the HR Division in the first place was because Arcana had requested it of Team Leader Yoon Se-jin.

"Nonsense, nonsense. Narrowing down the target's location in that short a window was impressive work in itself."

"......"

"Besides, didn't your efforts make this second-stage tracking that much easier for us?"

"I appreciate you thinking so highly of it."

As of today, Haram had formally transferred the case back to Arcana. And with it, he had handed Team ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Leader Ryu Gangmin a recorded playback of his mission's entire progression — for the purpose of tracking down the target a second time.

That silhouette. I knew it looked familiar somehow.

The recipient who had taken possession of 'Zerathus's Flag.' The client had reportedly submitted a new request, asking for that person to be found.

The fact that the client already had the flag in their possession... was something no one knew yet.

I'm not sure whether that faint afterimage captured in the Mirror of Truth will be enough to identify him, but...

He'd probably be found.

This was Arcana, of all places. They'd manage it one way or another.

Which meant that, as far as Haram was concerned, he no longer needed to give this matter another thought.

"Then I'll take my leave."

"Of course. I'll see you on the day of the Entrance Exam."

"Understood, Team Leader."

The moment Haram stepped out of the Arcana office, silence settled over the room once more.

And then, a short while later—

Knock knock—

"Team Leader, it's me."

"Come in."

A new figure pushed open the office door and stepped inside.

"Ah, good. You've compiled the intelligence?"

"We've made some progress, yes."

"Sit."

The man who took the seat across from Ryu Gangmin drew a tablet, barely larger than his palm, from inside his jacket. He pulled up a single screen, then slid it smoothly across the desk toward Gangmin.

"Take a look first, Team Leader."

Ryu Gangmin accepted the tablet naturally, and his gaze locked onto the screen. Listed there, in sequence, were the following entries:

Gangmin read through the contents without so much as a flicker of movement, took a slow sip of the tea resting on the desk, then murmured under his breath.

"Hm. That would figure."

"What... do you mean, sir?"

"Ah, nothing. Forget I said anything."

Ryu Gangmin smirked.

At that very moment, a single man's face was floating through his mind.

The Lancer of the Moon Shadow.

Or, as some called him — the man known as Shadow Lancer.

Without a doubt... the Captain of the 3rd Knight Order would drool over an item like this.

If this numbered artifact were to find its way into that man's hands, the fighting strength of the 3rd Knight Order would double overnight.

That was no exaggeration — and if it happened, the standing of Silver Knights itself would rise all the higher.

"Heh heh."

With that in mind, Gangmin steeled his resolve.

He would place this tenth unique item to ever appear in the country into the 3rd Knight Order Captain's grasp — by any means necessary.

Click—

The moment I opened the front door and stepped inside, my eyes locked instantly with Madam Kim Ju-yeon's, seated on the sofa.

"Son, you're late?"

The wall clock read exactly 8:20.

"Ah, Mom. Cut me some slack, will you?"

Twenty minutes late, sure — but I'd come prepared, knowing this would happen.

"I was late buying this. Genuinely."

I held out the white plastic bag in my hand, and the crease knotted between Madam Kim Ju-yeon's brows smoothed ever so slightly.

"What's this?"

"The thing you and Siyul like."

"Wait — jokbal?"

"You know how the line at that jokbal place is insane, Mom."

"Ah, right, I do."

"I grabbed my day's pay and got us a half-and-half, extra-large order. That earn me a pardon for the twenty minutes?"

Just then, a door at the end of the hallway burst open, and an answer arrived from an entirely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different direction.

"Yup, pardoned. Totally pardoned."

Hoo.

I hadn't expected Lee Siyul to already be home at this hour.

This brat... she'd claimed she studied at the reading room until ten every night. That was a load of crap?

"The studying just wasn't going well at the reading room today."

"Yeah, right. Since when?"

"Just today, okay?"

"And yesterday you skipped the reading room to hang out with friends, didn't you?"

"Yesterday was a prior commitment. Nothing I could do about it."

Anyway... I'd actually hesitated for a second over whether to order the medium or the extra-large, and thank god I went big. I'd skipped lunch, so my stomach was already eating itself — and with two certified jokbal killers at the table, a medium would've left me fighting over scraps.

Why are you agonizing over this when you just made a whopping 250 million won? you ask?

Dammit.

Because it didn't feel like I'd earned 2.5 billion won. It felt like I'd lost 500 million.

Should've just sold it for 3 billion.

No, honestly, I probably could've gotten 3.5 billion for it...!

Ghhk.

Even when I console myself that I've still got a numbered item left, it doesn't help one bit.

No — the moment I remember the numbered gear sleeping in my inventory, my stomach just twists harder.

Why?

Because it's a thing I can't even sell right now.

Every numbered item is bound to its owner — conditionally.

Why, why did something like this have to drop ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at miracle-tier odds?

It's not that selling is impossible — you just have to go through something called 'Liberation' first.

And how do you achieve Liberation?

You grow the numbered item to its maximum level. That's it.

Of course, a Liberated numbered item would fetch whatever price anyone cared to name.

The problem is there's no telling how much money it'll burn getting there.

Because raising the equipment level of a growth-type item doesn't take experience points — it takes other equipment as fodder.

And the thing is a picky eater, too. It only deigns to devour gear of the same grade as itself.

Worse, it naturally climbs to higher grades as it grows, meaning the closer it gets to level 30, the more ex-or-bit-antly premium its meals become.

And since Night Stalker grows all the way up to Legendary grade...

Phew.

At least it's not Mythic.

Small mercies — being in the 900s, the bottom rung of the numbered ladder.

I guess that's what being numbered equipment gets you — even a single one of these options is absolutely broken.

An enhancement to ALL dark-element skills.

And it's not the skill level that goes up — it's the skill grade, +1.

Meaning a Hero-grade skill becomes Legendary, and a Legendary skill becomes Mythic.

Stack on a flat +20% skill power boost on top of that.

Any dark-attribute DPS who laid eyes on this thing would lose their minds, wouldn't they?

But, well...

"......"

From where I'm standing, it's about as useful as a chopstick at a soup kitchen.

If I'd looted this back in beta, my happiness circuit wouldn't have just overclocked — it would have melted clean through.

The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced: numbered items are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the single worst possible match for a rice-farmer like me.

Just carrying this thing around could land me in serious danger, after all.

If even the NPCs go absolutely feral over numbered items... there's no way Earth's players would be any different, right?

For the record, during my beta playthrough, these numbered items got me killed more times than I care to count.

The moment I was registered as a numbered item's 'imprinted player,' every wolf-eyed bastard out there started gunning for my throat, day and night.

So really, this is equipment I shouldn't even equip until I'm ranker-class.

The instant I put it on, it imprints — and the name [Dave] gets stamped into the 'imprinted player' field for the whole world to see.

How do I know that?

The Laika system just hands it to you. Like this.

Hm.

I took the opportunity to browse a little while I was at it — and things look a bit different than I expected?

I hadn't realized that out of a thousand numbered items, nearly ninety percent were still undiscovered.

Even on the beta server, where I was the only player, the gear from the 500s onward always had owners for more than half the list...

Well, that's not what matters right now.

"Whew."

Either way, it's safe to say I've got exactly one option on the table.

Grind my rice-farming with everything I've got, stuff this money-gobbling hippo until its belly's about to burst...

then get it Liberated as fast as humanly possible and dump it straight onto the exchange, pristine and untouched.

I mean, if I actually pull off the Liberation... we're talking enough money to buy several Han River-view apartments.

How many levels could I hit if I burned all 250,000 LP on the exchange, I wonder?

That road, I could tell, was going to be a treacherous one.

Assuming I monitor the exchange and buy up only distressed listings with maximum efficiency... even then, I'd probably barely scrape level 15.

Come to think of it, I can't burn through all 250,000 LP anyway.

Now that I'm condemned to carry a ticking time bomb in my inventory, I need to take out a somewhat pricey insurance policy.

Horus's Feather. Wasn't the market price around 10,000 LP?

Looks like it goes for about 13,000 LP... but if I get stingy over the price here, I'm a certified lunatic.

No matter how much I love money, nothing outranks my own life, right?

Which means paying off our family's debt will have to wait until after I'm liberated from these shackles, apparently.

Can't you just settle the debt first? you say?

Because it scares me, okay?

I don't want to walk around carrying a target on my back!

"Mmmgh."

Maybe I'd been scowling at the dinner table too intently, because my little sister, mid-bite into her jokbal, shot me a sidelong glance.

"Oppa, you're not eating?"

Madam Kim Ju-yeon chimed in with a jab of her own.

"Son, you didn't blow your whole day's pay, did you?"

Well — technically, yes, ma'am, something like that.

How does she always know?

That woman's intuition really does deserve its own award.

"Nothing like that. My stomach's just a little off."

I deflected vaguely and picked up a piece of jokbal — at which point Lee Siyul raised her executioner's hand.

"Oppa."

"What now."

"If your stomach's bad... are you allowed to eat jokbal?"

Is this what that is?

Smack—

"Ow!"

I repaid her with a crisp knuckle-rap, but until that jokbal left my fingers, Mom was firmly on my side. So there.

"That's right, you brat. You couldn't even feed your brother a single piece of jokbal, and you're lecturing him?"

"Tssk. He said his stomach hurts! I'm allowed to be a little worried!"

"Worried there won't be enough jokbal left, more like."

"No I wasn't!"

Hoo.

And here I'd thought a returned hero's rice-farming life would be smooth sailing.

But if I can just get past this obstacle...

I'll get to be happy too... right?