The Bill
The Bill
Hmph.
Sylvia pursed her lips, watching Ian walk away.
Could she really trust the Frost Bear weakness he'd mentioned?
She couldn't help but be skeptical. Not with his reputation preceding him.
A man who would do anything to pester women.
Going by the rumors alone, his reputation was so abysmal that pretending she'd never heard of him would be the sensible move.
But the Ian she had personally encountered twice now was different.
A confession?
Far from it—they'd done nothing but bicker today.
The Ian she experienced was clearly not the man the rumors described.
Wait... it couldn't be because I'm not attractive, right?
A stray thought flickered through her mind.
Sylvia shook her head sharply.
...Oh, honestly.
Slap. Slap.
She gave her cheeks a couple of light taps. The faint sting of pink warmth brought her back to her senses.
Dating... I'd like to, obviously. But this isn't the time to worry about it.
She didn't have a minute to waste if she wanted to properly inherit and expand the Laurent Trading Company.
Ian Blackangus.
Should she trust his information or not?
He'd tossed out a monster's weakness just to win a verbal sparring match.
What kind of moron gives away a monster's weakness to win an argument?
And yet, that was precisely why it seemed credible.
To Sylvia, Ian might have appeared reckless, but she sensed an inexplicable confidence in him.
He wasn't the type to lie just to win an argument, nor the frivolous confession-machine the rumors made him out to be.
Just then.
A ripple of gold hair entered Sylvia's vision.
Unlike Sylvia's near-platinum locks, Emilia Raymond's hair was a full, rich gold.
Sylvia's (one-sided) rival.
"I know a thing or two about hunting strategies. Weaknesses? Ahaha... not quite to that level, but I'm sure I'll be helpful!"
Emilia Raymond, foxy as ever, was swishing her tail as she assembled her team.
The sight ignited Sylvia's competitive fire.
She knew this feeling was an inferiority complex, but...
"Just a moment!"
Sylvia called out, stopping Karina—the top scout of Aether Class—just as she was heading toward Emilia.
"I know the Frost Bear's weakness!"
Emilia and Karina's eyes widened.
That was how Sylvia managed to assemble a team from the upper-ranked students.
— Grrrrrooooaaarrr!
And so they confronted the Frost Bear.
Just staring at its brutal form was enough to make even Sylvia's steely heart clench with worry.
...What if he lied?
If Ian had scammed her? If word got out that Sylvia had bad information... it would all be over.
She could forget about ever forming a real team in Aether again.
A gamble.
Sylvia's long lashes trembled.
"Syl! What's the holdup? Tell us the weakness, now!"
"Ah... yes?"
"Hey! Are you going to make me regret ditching Emilia for you? What's the matter, you little—"
Crackle.
This knife-happy rogue wench! Sylvia swallowed the curse in her throat and shouted.
"The Frost Bear's weakness is behind the ears—the tendon connecting the ear to the face!"
She'd already crossed the river. No going back.
She had no choice but to trust Ian.
If his information turned out to be true, she would owe him a tremendous debt.
◆
Early evening, as a deep indigo sky swallowed the sunset.
An empty lot near a budget private lodging whose greatest perk was the cheap rent.
Ian was training, as always.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and settled onto a nearby stump.
"Hoo."
Ending up on the same team as a Blood Rock Sect cultist.
An unanticipated slip-up.
At this point, though, he couldn't shake the feeling it was a story-driven inevitability.
"The chances I'll end up entangled with the Blood Rock Sect one way or another are high."
The scenario revealed right before his possession had shown Pongpongi's 'corruption.' That corruption was the unavoidable qi deviation unique to Blood Rock Sect initiates.
The problem was how he'd get entangled—the scenario had never once touched on that. It was entirely unknown territory.
"I shouldn't agonize over it too much."
Ian shook his head.
No amount of calculation produced an answer. No reason to get scared or timid this early. He simply knew the danger and would prepare for it.
And to do that...
I need to get stronger.
That was the solution to everything. Grow stronger, gain the power to keep this single body safe. No matter how frightening the heroines were, or the Blood Rock cultists, or the final boss slowly preparing to reveal its hideous existence—surpass them in strength and the problem was solved.
That was why Ian obsessed over training.
Incidents kept cropping up, but this was undeniably a time of peace. A golden opportunity—perhaps the last one—to build a solid foundation.
Ian crossed his legs and sat in a lotus position atop the stump.
He could feel it.
The magical power gathered in his lower abdomen—an organ he might as well call the dantian. Limitlessly pure and whole, the earth's mana.
When he had first possessed this body, it had been an immeasurably turbid energy. He remembered the deep forest earth, the presence Gaia's statue had exuded, and he'd worked to resemble it—extracting the earth's mana and purifying it with his Authority.
The total mana his body held had decreased drastically, but it had become clear, free of any impurity.
'The strongest path is the righteous one.'
There were countless fast-growth shortcuts, but only one path led to true, ultimate strength.
Ian opened his eyes.
A fantasy-night sky. He could see the countless stars and the Milky Way cascading down. Somewhere out there was the place Ian needed to return to. And for that reason, he would become stronger than anyone.
◆
Training wasn't the only way to get stronger. If anything, Ian naturally leaned more toward trickery—no, a rigorous spirit of experimentation. The kind of gamer who, in a racing game, would scour every inch of the map for a shortcut, or walk a bizarre, off-meta path in an RPG. While keeping training as his top priority, he was also trying various other approaches.
"Fascinating."
Extraction and Transmutation.
Lately, he'd been conducting experiments on those alongside his training.
He'd reached a few conclusions.
First: a body reinforced via Extraction took on the properties of the extracted metal.
The degree to which it gained those properties depended on the quantity of metal extracted.
— Kwoong!
His fist, heavier than before.
This was the result of performing Transmutation with the concept of fully absorbing the metal, rather than merely coating the surface.
The more metal he absorbed, the more strongly its properties manifested.
Second: the limits of Extraction and Transmutation.
"Extraction has its limits, and Transmutation does too."
Absorbing and cloaking himself in overpowered metals would be ideal, but reality didn't work that way.
At present, the only metal Ian could fully extract and transmute was 'Iron.'
And here was the peculiar part—the limit for absorbable metals didn't follow the metal's physical properties.
'It follows the in-game metal grade.'
For example, extracting and transmuting Soil was easy. Copper was harder. Iron was intermediate. Silver, Gold, and other higher grades were far more difficult to extract and transmute.
"If I try to force extraction of a high-grade metal, impurities get mixed in."
And that apparently raised the difficulty of Transmutation even further.
Another factor determining the difficulty of Extraction and Transmutation was the ambient concentration of the mineral in question. The more abundant the element in the vicinity, the lower the difficulty tended to be.
At this stage, a trick—no, a good idea—naturally came to mind.
A unique weapon only he could possess. Or—not sure if you could even call it a weapon. Whatever.
"Heh heh heh..."
Training was always paramount, but occasionally, you needed this kind of stat-inflation.
The corner of Ian's mouth curled upward.
◆
The next day.
Break time between classes.
Sylvia came to find him.
"How can a person not own a Kirtos terminal?"
She thrust something at him without preamble. He looked down—a paper sheet, about the size of a tablet.
"I prepared a cheap downgraded version, as befits a commoner. Be grateful."
Oh.
Ian was mildly impressed. An unexpected gift. And a high-priority item, too. He'd planned to procure one soon.
"We can't contact you. Contact. Don't get all sulky just because it's a downgrade..."
"Thanks."
"Hmph. Just as ungrateful as I thought... What?"
Sylvia's cat-like eyes gave a slow blink. Her violet gaze fixed on him.
Had she misheard?
Ian repeated himself, clearly this time.
"I said thanks."
Whoosh—
Color flooded Sylvia's face.
"Th-that's so sudden—!"
"?"
"...That's sacrilege!!"
Sylvia bolted. So fast her voice echoed in her wake.
'What the hell.'
I didn't confess or anything.
I just said thanks.
Shaking his head, Ian returned to his seat.
Time to refocus on class.
◆
Lunchtime.
While eating his packed lunch, Ian powered on the Kirtos terminal.
Notifications suddenly flooded in.
[Sylvia] : Hey?
[Sylvia] : Hey? Ian?
[Sylvia] : Are you maybe not used to using it?
[Sylvia] : You literally just press the screen and type.
[Sylvia] : Ian?
......
[Sylvia] : Ian, please check your Kirtalk.
[Sylvia] : Ah... seriously.
......
[Sylvia] : Hey
[Sylvia] : Hey
[Sylvia] : Hey
[Sylvia] : H
[Sylvia] : e
[Sylvia] : y
[Sylvia] : .
[ Ian ] : What.
[Sylvia] : Oh ffs
[Sylvia] : Oh? You saw it.
[Sylvia] : Hah. I'm the one who gave you this terminal. Do you really think it's fair I have to work this hard to get a reply? What do you think?
[ Ian ] : Busy.
[Sylvia] : Who isn't? You should consider it an honor just to be messaging me on Kirtalk.
Picturing Sylvia bowed over her terminal, diligently poking at the paper to send such messages, Ian snorted.
[ Ian ] : Anyway, thanks. I actually needed one. Thanks, I'll put it to good use.
The chat room paused.
[The other party is typing...]
The message indicator stayed like that for a while.
"What, is it broken?"
Ian inspected the Kirtos terminal. Paper, roughly tablet-sized. Meaning there was nothing he could whack to fix it. He gave it a few shakes and set it aside on the desk.
— Kirtalk!
An alert sounded a moment later.
[Sylvia] : Hmph.
That was all.
[ Ian ] : You're full of 'hmph's, aren't you.
A brief silence. Then a rapid-fire volley of messages.
[Sylvia] : Wow...
[Sylvia] : The worst. Please refrain from that kind of humor from now on. I'm asking you.
"......"
Sylvia did have a tendency to deliver lethally blunt straight punches. Sharp to the core, matching her haughty looks.
[ Ian ] : So, what?
[Sylvia] : I have something to ask.
He could guess what she wanted to know. Where he'd gotten that information. In this world, an informant's value was as high as the information itself.
[ Ian ] : That's a secret.
Unfortunate for her, but he couldn't tell her. Mainly because the source was Ian himself.
[Sylvia] : I figured as much.
He could perfectly imagine Sylvia's dejected expression on the other side of the paper.
Ian smirked.
For Sylvia, desperate to beat Emilia—or rather, the Raymond Trading Company—every scrap of information was priceless.
But she had little to worry about.
Because if she compensated him properly, he fully intended to sell her whatever information she needed.
Sylvia was calculating, but not selfish. She reliably repaid value received. That was why he'd chosen her.
"Ah."
He suddenly realized.
The Laurent Trading Company dealt in raw materials too.
[Ian] : I want compensation.
Time to put his investor to use.