A Very Lucrative Day

The moment I posted it and hit refresh, the empty comment section erupted at an explosive speed.

Jerk myself off...? Dumbfounded, I let out a sigh and left a brief reply.

I paused and read the next comment.

It felt like they were describing my appearance with uncanny accuracy, but it was probably just a coincidental troll.

Idiots... at least they're entertaining.

Chuckling, I brushed past the useless chatter and cut straight to the point.

The moment I brought up the main point, the forum's atmosphere—which had been dominated by trolling and suspicion—instantly turned serious. The real information brokers, who had been lurking in the shadows, caught the scent and began to emerge.

Credits? I expected them to offer PT on the forum, but as expected, major transactions between users were conducted in the official currency, Credits, rather than PT. This was actually for the best. It seemed that in this world, Credits were just as crucial for survival as PT.

If PT was used for immediate necessities like food to keep from starving or consumable potions, Credits seemed to serve as the official currency used to learn skills or purchase equipment within Estel Academy.

"7,500 Credits."

That was a pretty handsome sum. This was the sweet privilege reserved only for those who risked their lives to tear through an Extreme difficulty ecosystem. Having finished gauging the market price, I was about to switch to the auction house tab. But at that exact moment, the comment section—which had been updating like a waterfall—suddenly froze.

Wondering if it was a lag spike, I hit refresh.

Just two lines of comments. The overwhelming amount—exactly double the fair market price—left everyone, including myself, momentarily speechless. Double the price? The forum, which had held its breath for a split second, erupted into a riot as if they were about to smash their keyboards.

I didn't know the details, but it seemed there were users with money to burn.

Fainted? Hardly. I let out a hollow laugh as I stared at the number '15,000' floating in my vision.

Either they're a complete sucker with money to burn, or they need this core more than their own life. It has to be one of the two.

Either way, it wasn't a bad deal for me. Who would be stupid enough to refuse double the market price? Deciding it wasn't even worth agonizing over, I immediately replied.

The deal was struck. I closed the forum window and tossed aside my stiff outer coat, which ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was caked with dried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blood. My steps toward the bathroom to wash off the disgusting stench of the rats' blood were as light as a feather.

15,000 Credits. With a budget like this, I wouldn't just be picking out a decent weapon. This was going to be an incredibly satisfying shopping spree where I could throw money around to prepare for my climb to the 3rd floor.

I immediately opened the auction house tab. Then, I listed the Gluttonous Queen Rat Core with a buyout price of 15,000 Credits. To prevent other forum users from snatching it away, I didn't forget to use the 'Designated Trade' setting, locking the buyer to ClimbingWithMoney.

With a light flick of my wrist, I dismissed the holographic window floating before my eyes, stepped into the bathroom, and turned on the hot water without hesitation.

Swoooooosh!

A stream of hot water poured over my head, washing away the sticky blood and rotting stench of the beasts. My muscles, which had been pumped to their absolute limits from swinging my sword thousands of times, gradually relaxed under the warmth, settling into a firm, solid state.

After spending a long time scrubbing away the lingering scent of blood, I stepped out of the bathroom while drying my wet hair with a towel.

Ding!

A cheerful chime rang out from the system panel I had left on standby.

Oh, it went through.

Checking the balance displayed in numbers, a genuine smile slipped through my lips. 14,250 Credits. Although losing 750 Credits to the transaction fee stung a bit, it was still an overwhelming amount—more than double the original market price of 7,500.

Recalling the shattered hilt of my wooden sword, I immediately opened the weapon shop tab, which boasted the largest scale in the academy. I no longer had to walk a tightrope while swinging a mere wooden stick. It was time to acquire a real piece of iron—one that could fully withstand the absurd acceleration and destructive power of my Consecutive Slashes.

With 14,250 Credits in hand, prioritizing my weapon setup was a no-brainer. With a budget of this size, I was guaranteed to get my hands on a truly formidable weapon.

Pulling up the system panel to check the location of the weapon shops, my eyes caught a name: the Workshop of Mindflame, located near the grand, dome-shaped Magic Counseling Room.

Does it mean forging weapons by igniting the fire of one's heart? Regardless, that was my destination.

I carefully sprayed the Peppermint Perfume senior Arin had given me before setting off at a leisurely pace. As I stepped out of the dormitory, the academy's uniquely vibrant air filled my lungs. The cool scent of peppermint lingering faintly on my body perfectly masked the unpleasant stench of the rats. Even as I walked past the sensitive beast-kin, not a single suspicious glance was directed my way.

She really gave me something useful. Satisfied, I passed the Magic Classroom district and entered the area marked on my map. Immediately, the surrounding atmosphere began to shift drastically.

A blatant, skin-scorching heat washed over me. Then, a heavy, rhythmic metallic clanging struck my ears.

Clang! Clang!

Hanging proudly over the entrance of the grand red-brick building was a sign with the words Workshop of Mindflame written in blazing red characters.

As I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the acrid smell of molten iron filled the air, and hundreds of weapons lining the walls cast a cold, sharp gleam.

"Welcome! What are you looking for? You look like a first-year. A light dagger for self-defense? Or a staff with great mana conductivity? A bow? A shooter? What do you need?"

Standing before a massive forge, a bipedal Rhinoceros Blacksmith with a bushy beard and a mountain of muscles glanced at me, asking in a gruff, indifferent tone.

...Since my class is a Knight, what I need is naturally a single-edged sword.

"I came because I need a sword..."

"Hmm, a sword."

Wiping his sweat with a towel, the massive blacksmith stopped what he was doing and slowly walked over to me.