Once Again, I Was Lucky

[224] The Support Ate It All

Leaving the Ruby Magic Tower in the thick of an all-out sisterly war, I set off toward my next destination.

As I walked, I pulled up the notification that had arrived a little ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while ago.

This week's sub-quest had been cleared at maximum completion—one win off Cha Hyun-ju and two off Hong Yeon-hwa in the PvP matches.

The reward, as expected, was a single copy slot.

The unexpected windfall, meanwhile, was that Hong Yeon-hwa's Overheat had climbed a whole rank, from D to C. I'd caught on mid-match and overwritten the old slot with the upgraded version on the spot.

As for what skill to register in the empty third slot, and how best to spend my one remaining Fixing Pin, I would mull those over in due time.

Having arrived at my destination, I shook off such thoughts and raised my eyes. It was another club room, and the nameplate hanging above the door read:

I waited a moment, eyes on the plate, until a familiar face came out to meet me—Kim Gap-du, president of the Martial Artist Club and a toad with a heart of fire.

"So you came."

"Good day, Senior."

Kim Gap-du eyed me with unmistakable displeasure. But I hadn't come for pleasantries; I had business with him.

Back during the mentoring crystal-PvP week, Kim Gap-du had thrown down a four-on-four wager to win himself a one-day date with Dang Gyu-young, and as club president he had recklessly staked the club's privileges on the outcome. He'd overreached out of sheer certainty that he would win—but with Jo Byeok, the very foundation of that certainty, defeated, the bet had gone to Dang Gyu-young's team instead.

Handing over that many privileges in one lump sum, however, would have shaken Kim Gap-du's standing within his own club. With that in mind, Dang Gyu-young had arranged for the handover to proceed in installments, at a pace he could stomach.

And among the privileges slated to be collected this way—my share was in there too.

I was the one who had beaten Jo Byeok of the Disciplinary Committee, after all. It would be no exaggeration to call me the single biggest contributor to winning that four-on-four bet. Since the process had required showing a slice of my real ability, Dang Gyu-young had promised me a cut of the winnings as payment—and my visit to the Martial Artist Club was to collect one item from that cut.

Of course, Kim Gap-du knew nothing of these arrangements, so my turning up alone, out of the blue, would have accomplished nothing. Which was why Dang Gyu-young had sent him a message beforehand.

Kim Gap-du showed me the exchange above and said,

"Not a single reply since then."

"I hear she blocked you again."

"Is that so......"

Kim Gap-du's face darkened in an instant.

Sad Gap-du, huh.

Even as that disrespectful thought crossed my mind, Kim Gap-du apparently decided he couldn't sulk in front of me, and his expression snapped back under control almost at once.

"So. You've come in Dang Gyu-young's place."

"That's right."

"...She must trust you quite a bit."

I wasn't even a member of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Thief Club, yet I'd been entrusted with delivering its privileges. From the look of him, he'd concluded we were no ordinary acquaintances.

Except the privilege in question wasn't something I'd come to deliver. It was mine.

Kim Gap-du asked, "What am I supposed to hand over, then?"

"The Crafting VIP Ticket."

The trouble with Deep Root was its length. As a stopgap I'd attached an F-rank iron bar, but I wanted a proper component built and swapped in as soon as possible. Ordinarily the search for a high-grade metal would have cost me some extra legwork, but with Fortune Bunny having plunked a Kraketite ingot straight out of the ingot box, there was nothing stopping me from starting production right away. Hence my arriving ahead of schedule to collect the VIP ticket.

"Take it."

"Thank you."

Kim Gap-du produced the ticket and handed it over as though it were nothing at all. For a prize as precious as a VIP ticket, a trace of reluctance wouldn't have been surprising—yet he already seemed to consider it no longer his.

I bowed my head and was turning to go when Kim Gap-du fired off another question.

"Are you putting the elixirs to good use?"

After the mentoring bet, Kim Gap-du had called me aside and handed over no fewer than three Lesser Elixirs.

"I don't quite follow—why would you give me something this precious?"

"Not because you're pretty. Don't go getting hurt and causing people worry. I'm giving them to you because you're always at her side—if Dang Gyu-young ever falls into danger, you use them. That's what they're for."

Seeing me must have brought the memory back to him.

I had no intention of detailing exactly where they'd gone, but as the one who'd consumed them, the least courtesy I owed him was a brief report on how they'd been spent. And so I gave him an abbreviated account of the affair at the downtown Black Market: while Dang Gyu-young and I were making the rounds of the commercial district, a Blood Cult Elder had 'abruptly' popped up, and together with some graduates we had taken him on; and the damage sustained in the process had been treated with the Lesser Elixirs.

The rumor had evidently reached him already. Kim Gap-du's eyes narrowed to thin blades.

"I heard the Blood Cult Elder kicked up quite a storm. You were at the scene?"

"Yes. Just my luck, really. Still, thanks to you, Senior, I came away without any serious injury."

At my polite thanks, the corners of Kim Gap-du's mouth began to twitch. He wrestled them back under control before asking,

"How many are left now?"

"One."

"So you and Dang Gyu-young used one apiece, I take it."

"That's right."

In truth, mine hadn't been spent fighting the Blood Cult Elder but on training the Hyneum Jade Demon Finger—hardly a detail I needed to volunteer.

Kim Gap-du's tone turned reproachful. "It's barely been any time since I gave them to you, and you've already burned through two? I do believe I told you not to squander them."

"My apologies."

"The Blood Cult Elder was never an opponent you children could handle in the first place. Avoid the engagement, and there'd have been no elixirs wasted at all."

Yet for all the bite in his words, he didn't look remotely angry. The corners of his mouth were still twitching, after all.

Proud Gap-du.

Before long, Proud Gap-du fixed me with a grave look.

"Kim Ho."

"Yes, Senior."

"Grow stronger. So that when the Blood Cult Elder stands before you again, neither Dang Gyu-young nor you comes to harm."

"I will bear it in mind."

"Off you go, then."

At Kim Gap-du's dismissal, I set my briefly halted feet in motion once more.

"One moment."

But I had barely taken a few steps before he called me back yet again. When I turned, he was holding out a pair of Lesser Elixirs.

"Even so, you ought to carry at least two, no?"

"...I'll accept them gratefully."

I didn't refuse. I pocketed the elixirs, and thought to myself:

Angel Gap-du.

Ticket secured, my next destination was, naturally, the Blacksmith Workshop. The president there was cut from the same cloth as Bong Jaeseok—a man with a visceral hatred of wasting time on anything pointless.

Even so, I was shown into the club room inside the workshop, where that very busy blacksmith president sat across the table from me. Regarding me with wondering eyes, he said,

"You're the third person this year to use two VIP tickets."

"Third doesn't sound like anything special, does it?"

"It would, if the two ahead of you hadn't all been club presidents."

The Dragon Slayer Academy was hardly short of clubs, and here was a mere first-year, edging past a whole roster of distinguished presidents to claim third place. Small wonder he found it curious. I flashed a smile and brushed it off.

"Just good luck."

"I believe you said much the same last time."

"Luck can strike twice, can't it?"

"It can. The question is whether it truly ends at twice."

"..."

I held my smile in silence, and the blacksmith president bored his eyes into me as though trying to read the truth behind it. But he apparently ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠couldn't afford to waste any more time, because he moved straight to business.

"What would you have me make?"

"This."

As with my commission for Root, I had drawn up a blueprint and brought it along. The president took it, unfolded it—and a distinct spark of interest kindled in his eyes. Then he asked,

"I'd like a brief look at the weapon you had made before."

"Here you are."

I readily laid Deep Root on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠table. Apart from the Priest's dagger fused at its tip, everything was exactly as it had been. The president compared it against the blueprint, eyes gleaming.

"So the two of them link together."

"You spotted it at once."

"And with more joints on this blueprint, this can't be the end of it."

"..."

"You are a fascinating one. Truly."

With that, the blacksmith president nodded. It meant he accepted the commission.

"You'll have brought the materials, I take it."

"Of course."

I plunked the Kraketite ingot down on the table. The president's gaze deepened at the sight; he lifted the ingot and spent a good long while picking it apart from every angle.

"Kraketite... Even I have never handled this metal. Lucky yet again, were you?"

"Luck can strike three times as well."

And strictly speaking, it hadn't been me who got lucky. It was the Lucky Sloth.

The president studied me for another long moment, but this time too he seemed inclined to fold his curiosity away.

"Prying too deeply into an item's origins would be poor manners regardless. So I'm the lucky one here, it seems. Thanks to you, I finally have a rank-up project on my hands."

For production classes, skills and traits mattered every bit as much as they did for combat classes. Crafting quality equipment demanded acquiring a broad range of skills and traits and managing one's ranks without pause. The trouble was that by club-president level in the third year, most had plateaued at A or B rank. Against that backdrop, a Kraketite ingot was rain after a drought—so rare that one scarcely ever got the chance to work it, and A-rank on top of that. Simply forging an item from it would mean substantial progress.

Perhaps that was why the blacksmith president threw out a proposal of his own.

"There will be some material left over, as last time. If it's all right with you, I'll craft you a supplementary item from it. How does that sound?"

When Root had been forged from Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron alloy, the leftovers had gone into Go Hyeon-woo's Sturdy Pen—though on that occasion, the pen had been my payment for indulging the president's own request. This time, he was offering to make me something in exchange for nothing more than permission to use the leftover Kraketite. With a rank-up opportunity in hand, it was no losing proposition for him.

And for my part, having an item crafted without paying a separate fee was nothing to complain about either. So I accepted without hesitation.

"I'm fine with that."

"Good. I'll deliver it the moment it's finished."

With even the minor details settled, the president rose from his seat, blueprint and ingot in hand. He looked ready to begin work on the spot.

A week at the outside, I'd guess.

In grade, Kraketite matched Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron, but the difficulty of working it was on the considerably lower side.

We stepped out of the club room together, and the president added a parting remark heavy with meaning.

"I find myself curious. Just how many more times will your luck hold... I'll be watching with interest."

"Feel free to look forward to it."

After all, it's scheduled to strike quite often.