The Engineer's Dilemma
It was a dilemma. The enemies were too strong—if he went all out, there'd be nothing left worth salvaging later.
Finishing his mental calculations, Allen took in the surrounding scenery. Even with the sudden flood of visual data, his brain remained calm. This was barely a warm-up.
'Assembly bench, pipes, crane...'
It took just one second to spot the clues and devise a plan. Engraving [Attraction] on his gauntlet took three seconds. Reaching up took one more.
In those total five seconds, the bison drew closer. The heavy thud of its hooves vibrated up through Allen's leg bones.
Taylor held his ground against the bison's charge, fending off the small automaton. And Allen lived up to his expectations.
The crane hook shot down, snagging the bison's side armor as it barreled forward. The steel cable went taut like a fishing line.
Between the bison's momentum and the cable's tension, the latter won. The beast lost its balance, crashing in a heap and sweeping up the enemies hot on its tail into total chaos.
With the troublemakers cleared in one go, Taylor wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Knew you could do it."
"Your pants look soaked."
"Watch your mouth, kid! That's sweat!"
Taylor yelled as he maneuvered his wheelchair forward in a burst. The tangled targets couldn't dodge the lead storm.
"Whew, been a while since I pushed like that. No idea how I survived these runs back in my youth."
"We're not done yet. Gotta collect the spoils for a perfect finish."
"Hate to say it, but I'm starting to fade."
His eyelids fluttered, his pupils grew hazy. Taylor's rigid posture slumped forward bit by bit.
"You're not activating it now just 'cause it's a hassle, are you?"
"..."
Taylor's mouth hung open quietly. One might call it too harsh for a sick man, but Allen had clearly seen the trembling in his pupils.
Still, a patient was a patient. Understanding that, Allen tied a chick bib around his neck.
When securing the strap, his grip might've been a tad too tight—post-battle fatigue, something like that. If asked if he meant to choke him, he could honestly say no. And that was the truth.
'Being around him makes me feel kinda childish.'
Not that it was a bad thing. Allen parked the wheelchair in the cleanest spot he could find and fetched the cart.
'More than I expected.'
All their expedition gear felt redundant now; they had enough loot to head back satisfied.
As he loaded mana stones and soul stones onto the cart, he wished for extra hands.
'Might as well mount a strong one on the exosuit.'
The one Allen wanted needed both precision and power, so crafting it would take time. But that was fine.
Whether it failed or led to new discoveries, every step was pure joy.
'Mana essence stone too.'
These high-purity energy crystals were coveted by all and versatile for any use, making them hard to come by. Naturally, selling wasn't an option.
Next came the book. The underground dweller had glanced at it while assembling the lion, so Allen figured it was an assembly manual.
But inside, there were no words—just tons of pictures.
'Like a kid's guidebook. Are underground dwellers low-intelligence?'
With complex automatons and soul stones around, he couldn't jump to conclusions. Still, the discrepancy felt off. A massive gap in sophistication, maybe.
As questions piled up, Allen's left eye snapped toward the passage. His right stayed on the book.
His sharpening senses had caught something suspicious. The fogless secret passage looked oddly blurry.
'Something's off.'
Pumping in more mana expanded his vision, and the enhanced X-ray pierced through.
'Invisibility...'
His eyes recognized the presence inside. A gang member from the 9th layer. The orb rolling ahead of them was...
'Scent-tracking golem? More reliable than footprint detection.'
The labyrinth erased all traces in 30 minutes to an hour if no explorers were around—body odor included. So they'd followed by checking concentration levels.
Confirming their goal might be useful, but with a patient here, injury wasn't an option. Time to handle them decisively.
If any survived, interrogate them. Otherwise...
'Check the auxiliary memory drive.'
Finishing his thoughts, Allen pretended to adjust the mana shot launcher while loading destructive mana shots—not the type he'd used cleaning the factory.
Taylor might tease him as a pushover, but Allen figured he wasn't that soft.
'Kindness is for those who deserve it...'
Invisibility, tailing, tracking golem. Any one was a red card.
The mana shot, loaded with Allen's resolve, slipped into the passage. A distance no old card of his could've reached.
They noticed it too late—the narrow passage filled with swelling flames.
Veteran (5)
His drooping eyelids lifted, hazy surroundings sharpening in his pupils. A few blinks cleared the image.
'Where am I again?'
Taylor rummaged through his memories. Normally it'd come instantly, but with the brain expansion device busted, they felt foggy.
Pipes, assembly bench, repair tools—now he remembered: a factory hidden in the secret passage. His nose caught a scent.
'Grilling meat?'
Taylor's mind snapped alert. He scanned around for Allen.
"You little punk. Grilled meat while I was out?"
"You only drank water while you slept."
The voice came from nearby, where Allen was disassembling an automaton.
Taylor knew it was true but kept his suspicious look.
"My nose still works fine. We didn't use fire cleaning this place, so that burnt meat smell means you're bullshitting me."
"Nothing happened."
"Then what's that scent-tracking golem over there?"
His decades as a labyrinth explorer weren't for show—he identified it from the protruding exterior on the cart alone.
In the end, Allen confessed: the Greenblood gang members had tailed them, and he'd taken them all out.
"Filthy beasts. Same bad habits as always. You hurt?"
"Handled 'em from range. For real."
Allen spread his arms and spun once. Only then did Taylor's fierce glare soften a bit.
"Checked the auxiliary memory or memory edits?"
"Cranked the mana shot power to ensure safety—burned 'em all up."
"Good call. Digging deeper's nice, but safety first. They figure an old invalid and a kid are easy pickings?"
"Not a kid."
"Getting mad at the word proves you are. Enjoy it while it lasts—time won't wait."
Taylor rolled up beside Allen, transferring small parts from the bench to the cart.
"Back in my day, I never let it slide. Even topside, raiders got shown. Speaking of, thought Greenblood got wrecked by Jake once—rebuilt already?"
"Maybe. But no way."
"No way what?"
"You're plotting revenge right now."
"You hack my head or something...? Nah, you expect me to just sit here like an idiot?"
"We one-sided them."
As Allen said, the fight ended anticlimactically.
The orcs had nowhere to run in the tight passage, buried under a firestorm. The few that escaped were barely alive.
All Allen's effort was loading the launcher and grabbing their gear.
Even explained calmly, Taylor wouldn't unclench his scowl. Fury creased every wrinkle.
"Rule is: favors x2, grudges x10."
"Rule?"
"Never heard it? Figures, buried in those curly magitech runes all day. Means unspoken code. So when we hitting back?"
Allen soothed Taylor—who fumed like it was personal—and reminded him of priorities.
"Revenge later. Got something to handle first."
Taylor scratched his head, realizing Allen meant him.
"Guess I'm worth it. Flattered."
"...Gotta fix you."
"Thought you said 'treat' before."
"Rating dropped a notch."
With Taylor helping sort, prep sped up a bit. So much loot they even propped up the last bison.
Allen hitched it to the sled. Taylor blurted from beside him:
"Necromancer alert."
"Necromancer out of nowhere?"
"Automatons rise after you tinker a few times. What about the bison topside?"
"Dispose of it, obviously. Kept it intact for max price."
"Poor cows. Work for humans alive, taste good dead..."
"Everything's machines now. Farming, hauling too."
"Kids got no romance."
Taylor shook his head, but he looked pleased.
Allen felt the same. Normally quiet, he kept chatting with Taylor.
"You want beef, right?"
"Never said that... But if you do, I'll join. What's bulging in your pocket?"
"Mana essence stone. Oparts soul stone too."
"What? You can appraise Oparts now?"
"Can tell magitech from Oparts. Anyway, this one's mine."
"Fair. You earned it—gotta fill your pockets. Rewards fuel passion."
"You mentioned hacking last time. Need Oparts soul stone to upgrade."
Allen's eyes traced the engraved star letters, activating. To expand, grow the cloud-like input window or clear bad sectors.
Input sizes were usually fixed, but exceptions existed—like his eyes or Oparts soul stones.
Last time, absorbing the bird automaton's soul stone cleared a bad sector.
Same method: expand star letter domain with this soul stone, reinforce abilities for stable surgery.
Eye functions would improve too, but Allen saw that as a bonus—focus was the surgery.
*
Allen's eye projected a screen into the air like a beam projector. The confirmed magitechwear purchases scrolled up.
Taylor, sitting beside him, read them off one by one.
"Brain expansion device, pain regulator, reflex axle, artificial mana circuit, mana heart components, lungs, nerve bundles, muscle fibers, skin... This many?"
"Means your body's that bad. Gotta swap 'em for normal life."
"Expensive yet cheap. Good gear needs skill to use—why magitech engineers top the professions."
Magitechwear alone cost 50 million coin. He'd picked decent stuff at the lowest prices, yet... Later, single eyes could top a hundred million. Not surprising.
"50 million'd get a clinic or hospital... Nah."
Formal places charged more, no installments. Labyrinth explorers earned big, but everyone knew the risks.
Plus, Taylor lacked time. First meeting, he forgot himself 2 hours a day; now 4.
Lucky factory finds every dive? Better buy lottery for first prize.
"Medical facilities?"
Allen's warehouse