Maintenance (1)
His desire to obtain it remained unchanged—in fact, it had only grown stronger.
So he didn't mind if the location was different, or even if it meant taking a slight detour.
The physical toll and shortened lifespan from mana excess syndrome were mere stops along the way in his pursuit of truth. At least, that's how Allen saw it.
Having crystallized his once foggy resolve, Allen stroked his left eye.
"Shall we challenge Akasha's Eye while we're at it?"
"The feat that even the greatest magitech engineer in history, Katan, couldn't achieve? Sure, I'll cheer you on. May his title pass to you. And if you actually pull it off, don't forget about us."
"As I delve deeper into the labyrinth, seeking knowledge and unraveling secrets, it will happen."
Once his name spread far and wide, it would reach the heavens where his parents resided. Or perhaps Nobak, the one who'd drilled a hole in his head, had already passed word that he was doing well.
Blessing each other's futures, Allen parted ways with his companions and found a hotel with better facilities than a capsule joint. It was a gift to himself.
Warming his body in hot water brought on a wave of drowsiness, but he couldn't just crash like that—he endured. After barely toweling off and collapsing onto the soft bed, Allen's memories cut off.
*
'How long did I sleep?'
Allen checked the clock. He'd closed his eyes at 11 p.m., and now it was midnight.
"Only an hour... No, a whole day has passed."
The stiffness from oversleeping combined with his battered muscles from the labyrinth to jolt him fully awake.
And it wasn't like he'd extended his stay for free without paying—the labyrinth explorers' life was full of this sort of thing, and since the hotel partnered with Breaker, the fee had auto-deducted from his account.
"Ugh..."
As he shifted in bed, a groan escaped Allen's lips unbidden.
Before sleep, they'd discussed grand dreams of truth and Akasha's Eye, but a more pressing issue now lodged in his mind.
Labyrinth delving was fine, studying Star Letters was fine, but first, he needed something to energize his depleted body.
Naturally, one more item was added to his plans.
A bookstore and a pharmaceutical workshop.
Maintenance (1)
What atmosphere do you picture when you think of a typical bookstore?
Allen imagined calm and scholarly fervor: shelves packed with books exuding that distinctive paper scent, people with intellect shining in their eyes absorbed in their favored subjects.
But the bookstore Allen visited today was different. Shelves were clad in metal, reeking of steel, and golems stationed everywhere eyed customers with cold scrutiny.
Even Allen, browsing the Star Letters corner, felt a prickling gaze on the back of his neck.
Sure enough, a glance over his shoulder revealed a golem by the wall staring right at him.
'Can't be helped.'
This wasn't your average bookstore peddling ordinary tomes. It specialized in priceless volumes: secret mana tomes, magitech treatises, and the like.
He'd hoped for a chance to skim the display copies, but that was wishful thinking. The shelves were sealed tight, impossible to read from.
These days, with artificial eyes so advanced they could snapshot pages at high speed and store them in auxiliary memory, such measures were standard.
Not wanting to linger, Allen pressed the staff call button at the Star Letters section.
About ten seconds later, an employee arrived on a gray disc. He didn't seem like ordinary staff—his aura was chillingly sharp.
Still, he observed basic courtesy.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'd like to buy Katan's Introduction to Star Letters."
"Ah, the steady seller. The great Katan, decoder of Star Letters, may be gone, but his book endures through editions, holding firm. I was interested myself but gave up—it was too tough."
His initial chill thawed into passionate explanation.
Unlocking the case, the employee opened the metal cover and retrieved the book. He didn't hand it over right away but struck up conversation.
"Anything else you're looking for?"
"No, I'd like to pay now."
"Right away then... You haven't had neural expansion surgery, I see. If you have a card, could you hand it over?"
Allen presented his explorer ID, and the employee's blue optic embedded in a small crystal focused on it.
Moments later, he returned the ID and book with a faint smile.
"Payment complete. We look forward to your next visit."
As the employee vanished, Allen flipped the cover briefly.
His hand trembled slightly—whether from buying his first 500,000-coin book or excitement at quenching his thirst, he wasn't sure.
He noted only the line 'Flawed copies may be exchanged at the purchasing store' before stowing it in his backpack.
Opening it here risked derailing his schedule entirely.
'Can't get so absorbed I miss closing time. Hold out till the inn. Hmm, neural expansion surgery...'
Allen pondered neural expansion as he left the store. It had its inconveniences, but nothing unbearable.
Besides, even if he wanted it, the occupant in his left eye made surgeons likely to refuse.
Brain surgery was delicate enough; dodging the optic nerve wrapped around it would skyrocket the difficulty.
Allen boarded a monorail zipping like a rollercoaster between skyscrapers. His hand strayed to his bag the moment he sat, but he resisted fiercely, gazing out at the scenery instead.
An endless gray forest stretched out: buildings, people, buildings, people.
Satellite cities existed here too, but Maze City's relentless expansion had swallowed them, reducing them to districts.
Even as it ballooned to a size embarrassing to call a single city, it teemed with people everywhere.
With the infinite resource trove of the labyrinth and derivative industries sprouting like weeds, it was inevitable.
When a speck of green pierced his gray-filled vision, Allen alighted from the monorail.
Ten minutes' walk from the station brought him to a massive botanical garden welcoming him.
The Western Sky garden didn't admit tourists. It was one of the pharmaceutical workshops Allen sought.
Inside, pleasantly humid warm air enveloped him. As he examined exotic flora, he looked up at the ceiling.
'Not glass.'
The transparent panels letting in sunlight were leaves from enormous trees. Bark and inner wood were see-through, revealing sap flows.
Dish-like leaves growing below held water droplets mirroring the surroundings like glass.
As Allen peered into one, a butterfly landed on his shoulder—reflected perfectly.
Amazed it didn't fly off, he turned to look.
Poke!
Something toothpick-like jabbed his cheek lightly.
"Dummy. Dummy."
"Who are you?"
"Fairy, fairy."
The butterfly fluttered up at his question, revealing a girl smaller than his palm wielding a tiny fork.
"No general public here. Get out."
"I'm a customer. I want to see the owner."
"Then play hide-and-seek with me..."
Mid-sentence, a droplet plopped onto the fairy's head from above.
That alone soaked her hair, drooping her shoulders.
"Voyeur! Pervert! Granny!"
More droplets rained down in response, and the fairy startled, plastering herself to Allen's chest.
"No playing. Bad. Straight ahead!"
Allen followed the fairy's cheerful grin, which had banished her pout. Soon she perched on his head, yanking hair like a giant golem pilot.
Under her guidance, they reached a clearing with a lone massive tree thick enough for a cabin.
"Witch coming now. Lucky, no other customers."
The fairy vanished with those words.
"Cheeky brat."
Then a voice rang out.
As Allen sought its source, the tree parted, revealing a soft-featured woman in a white dress.
Her garb wasn't fabric or synthetic—it was white petals.
Opening her eyes and lifting her head, silky black hair cascaded.
"A customer."
"Are you an alraune? Or a dryad?"
Her eyebrows rose at Allen's question, her gentle demeanor sharpening instantly.
"I'm a flower soul. Cousin to the alraune and dryad you just named. Yohwa's the name. As you see, owner here."
"Allen, labyrinth explorer. My apologies."
"Apology accepted. Here for my medicine, beyond elf or druid herbology?"
Allen nodded. A flower fairy was the plant itself—her confidence fit perfectly.
Yohwa clapped, vines bringing a wooden box forward. She drew out a syringe.
"Injection works faster than oral. Just jab your forearm. Easy, right?"
Allen shook his head. The needle evoked his arms, mottled from charging mana batteries.
"Not for labyrinth use. My body's weak—looking for something for that."
"Ah, tonic? Labyrinth kids always want stimulants from my garden—misread you. Let me check."
Vines first wrapped his wrist, then Yohwa approached herself. Creepy touch.
Mysterious moss wriggled on his skin; cylindrical plants encased his torso.
Time passed; Yohwa returned with a seed tiny as a millet grain.
"Don't freak."
It burrowed into his skin on contact, blooming red instantly—then withered before he could speak. Dried petals crumbled away.
"Hm..."
"Neat, huh? How's the body?"
A first in his life. He jumped in place—no pain anywhere. He could pull a cart now, no issue.
"Feeds nutrients instead of mana."
"Effect's solid. No side effects?"
"Didn't even search my garden?"
The 4.5-star visitor reviews from myriad sources weren't for show. Minus gripes on price, it was near-perfect.
Allen recalled his balance, steeled himself, and asked.
"How much?"
"3 million coins each. That one was service."
"..."
A sum that sealed lips. Most of his ten-day labyrinth camp earnings.
Seeing Allen speechless, Yohwa pouted.
"Don't look at me like that—hurts. Made for rich elders short on health; price fits. No scam inflating effects."
"Can't argue that."
"Stick seed to skin like before. Simple?"
"Wait. It guzzles mana— for sick elders?"
"They cover mana other ways."
True—money bought anything. Body swaps excluding brain were routine; mana was trivial.
"Flower's name?"
"No official yet—too new. Gotta name before launch, but tough."
Then an idea flashed; Allen prodded her pride deliberately.
"Clinical trials not done? Famous for faith-based pharma—disappointing. Reviews faked too? Rich enough for review gigs, sure."
"What do you take me for