Money Is No Object
After placing an order with the Blacksmith Club, I was on my way to the Training Center.
"Brother Kim."
I'd crossed paths with Go Hyeon-woo — just heading back, by the look of it, having finished this week's quota.
Falling into step beside him, I asked, "How many wins?"
"Two."
"As expected."
Meaning every match he'd fought besides the one he'd lost to me had ended in victory. Well, Go Hyeon-woo was hardly the type to get knocked around by anyone else. How he'd hold up once we properly entered the 900-point range was another matter, though — that remained to be seen.
The conversation drifted naturally toward the PvP assessment we'd taken together.
"So? Now that you've gone up against Hong Yeon-hwa."
"I knew Lady Hong's skill was exceptional — we coordinated together at the midterm, after all. But meeting her as an opponent, I found she deserves every ounce of her reputation."
Hong Yeon-hwa was the textbook example of an artillery-type mage. Once she planted herself in one spot, she would either rain down mid- and low-tier spells without pause or bring a large-scale spell to completion in the blink of an eye — give her time, and her firepower was nothing short of staggering.
"Win or lose, I figured you should experience it at least once."
"I suspected as much. Had it been you, Brother Kim, the victory would have come far more easily."
"Fighting me wouldn't have taught you much of anything."
Wind mages were rare to begin with, and the odds of drawing lethal-drop terrain on top of that were, going forward, practically nil. Artillery-type mages, by contrast, were an opponent he would face time and again down the road — which was exactly why I'd deliberately put Hong Yeon-hwa forward and let her shine.
Go Hyeon-woo nodded along, then asked, "Thanks to her, I learned a great deal. But I confess myself curious — what is your assessment of me?"
"Well, for one, your play left nothing to fault."
On the Cloud Stairs, restricted movement put melee classes at a severe disadvantage. Carrying that handicap, Go Hyeon-woo had kept vaulting from foothold to foothold to close the distance with Hong Yeon-hwa, steering the fight so that Seo Ye-in would draw that much less suppression fire.
Judged on results alone, Seo Ye-in's Magic Bullet had been swallowed by the barrier — but that was a separate matter.
His final gambit hadn't been bad, either. The moment Hong Yeon-hwa began chanting her large-scale spell, Go Hyeon-woo seized the opening and unleashed Clear Stream. That, too, was ultimately stopped, but it was the best call he could have made in that moment.
Go Hyeon-woo smiled sheepishly. "Haha, now you're gilding my face. Was there truly nothing lacking?"
"If I had to nitpick, there is one thing."
"Nitpicking? Nonsense. Speak freely, I beg you."
Most martial artists carry enormous pride in the arts they've been taught, and they react to any evaluation of them with great sensitivity — an appraisal of one's martial arts is, after all, an appraisal of one's sect and one's master. So I had tiptoed around the subject as carefully as I could, and only opened my mouth once Go Hyeon-woo's consent was given.
"What footwork art did you learn?"
"Our sect's Heavenly Wind Ten-Thousand-Li Step."
Like every other art Go Hyeon-woo practiced, it was of remarkably high caliber — one only had to watch his strides stretch out long and far with each step to see it. But the problem that stood out was this:
"Your hands and feet are each doing their own thing. When you use Clear Stream, your feet stop. When you run your footwork, your sword stops."
When Hong Yeon-hwa had prepared her final gambit, Go Hyeon-woo had closed in for the first and only time and unleashed Clear Stream. After that, my chain of Spiral Explosions had sent him scrambling one-sidedly — but had he been able to spread Clear Stream even while evading, a counterattack would have been there for the taking.
A wry smile settled at the corner of Go Hyeon-woo's mouth. "I see nothing gets past your eyes, Brother Kim."
"So you already knew."
"I did. It is a matter I have been pondering myself."
Every one of Go Hyeon-woo's arts was high-level, and by the same token, each took considerable effort to master. As things stood, he either could not deploy forms and footwork simultaneously, or if he did, one of the two fell out of step.
I decided to hold my answer for the time being. "A few approaches do come to mind, but I should chew on them a little longer myself."
"If there is even the slightest possibility, I should like to attempt it."
"All right. You won't be waiting long."
I trained Wind Barrier at the Training Center until evening crept up, and with hunger starting to make itself known, I sent Seo Ye-in a message.
Less angry this time, at least.
The day after I'd sent her rolling every which way across the sandpit with Wind Force, she hadn't even shown up for breakfast — apparently this round didn't run that deep. Most likely because I'd focused on backing up Hong Yeon-hwa rather than turning Wind Force on her directly.
Even so, something had clearly lodged in her craw, because the first words out of Seo Ye-in when we met in front of the student cafeteria were:
"Kim Ho, that was cheap."
"What was cheap about it?"
"You kept running away."
Apparently all my bouncing to and fro above the clouds had gotten under her skin. No matter how relentlessly she gave chase, the gap never narrowed — and the whole while, she'd had to keep weathering Hong Yeon-hwa's suppression fire on top of it.
"So," I asked, "are you still mad?"
"A little."
"What would make it better?"
"......"
Seo Ye-in studied me for a long moment. Then she slipped a hand into her inventory and fished something out, bit by bit.
And that would be...
It was a tin pot, slightly crushed and then hammered back into shape — a prop from the Bullet Time training, from the toy hammer game, with the outline of my head still stamped into one corner. The one and only Kim Ho Pot.
"So you're the one who had it this whole time?"
No wonder it had gone missing when I went to return it to the kitchen.
Seo Ye-in raised the Kim Ho Pot a few inches. "Just one hit."
"No. We had a deal — no hitting people with the pot."
"Just a tiny one."
The pot climbed a little higher. If I allowed another clean hit, the Kim Ho Pot would soon be rebranded the Kim Ho Kim Ho Pot, so I reached out and clamped a hand around it.
"Dangerous items go down first, please."
"......"
Seo Ye-in surrendered the pot without a fight as I pulled it away, but promptly held out her hand again, clearly expecting it back.
As long as she doesn't club anyone with it.
With that thought, I handed the Kim Ho Pot over, watched it vanish into her inventory, and then led the way into the cafeteria.
"Let's eat first, then talk."
People are always more magnanimous on a full stomach, after all. The prediction held up reasonably well this time, too. Sitting across from each other and working through little round rice balls one by one, we watched what remained of Seo Ye-in's anger gauge drain all the way to empty.
Once dinner was over, we borrowed a small student meeting room.
"Let's check in with your butler."
"Mm."
Not long after I placed the call, Ahn Jungmi's figure appeared in the communication crystal. Judging by the office behind her, she was working late again tonight.
She bowed her head with perfect courtesy. "Kim Ho-nim. May I ask what this call concerns?"
"Wanted to go over her PvP feedback."
When I answered, pointing at Seo Ye-in, a brisk shuffling came through the crystal — and the next instant, pen and notepad had materialized in Ahn Jungmi's hands.
"Yes, please proceed."
I walked her through everything that had happened on the Cloud Stairs. Under academy rules, carrying match replays off campus was forbidden, but describing one in words sat precariously in a gray zone. Besides, I had no need to recount every last detail — only one thing here actually mattered.
Ahn Jungmi asked, "Am I to understand that Agassi's Magic Bullet was blocked?"
"Couldn't take her down."
Seo Ye-in replied with a faint note of regret, and I supplied the rest.
"I did stack one extra barrier on top this time, but once she learns one more defensive spell — and that will be soon — the end result comes out the same."
"......"
Ahn Jungmi's gaze deepened. Hong Yeon-hwa was a rising star among the first-years, and the 2nd Future Strategy Office had been keeping tabs on her movements as well. In the volcanic-zone PvP, she had in truth faced Seo Ye-in one-on-one and lost — and yet here she was, back already with her defenses patched up.
"Miss Hong Yeon-hwa's growth is fearsome as well."
"She does learn fast."
Ahn Jungmi would know the whole story, of course — that Hong Yeon-hwa's leap in strength over so short a span wasn't merely rapid growth, but the Ruby Magic Tower's full-throated support piled on top of it. Making sure she knew that was precisely my intent.
Back them properly, and that side is no pushover either.
The Hyeseong Group heiress had finally shown some fight — and she was losing ground because her backing fell short of the other side's? Pride alone guaranteed she wouldn't sit still for that. It wasn't as though Hyeseong Group was short on capital.
"If it is no trouble, I would like to hear Kim Ho-nim's thoughts first," Ahn Jungmi said, her tone even.
A veteran gunner surely had answers of her own ready, and yet she asked for my opinion first. Part of it was surely a test — but part of it was respect, for how well I'd steered Seo Ye-in until now.
I produced the answer I'd prepared. "The most intuitive fix is raising her rank."
Of course, that was a solution with little near-term feasibility. Every one of Seo Ye-in's gunslinger skills was plateaued at C-rank, and even the most prodigious talent needs time to break through the B-rank wall. Naturally, I hadn't raised the subject of ranks just to stop there.
"That said, learning a separate bonus trait shouldn't be difficult."
Take the [Blessing of the West Wind] I'd learned — it granted a bonus to wind magic. The gunslinger class had bonus traits of its own, and my suggestion was to have Seo Ye-in acquire one.
Ahn Jungmi took it all down in diligent notes. "I will prepare that immediately. Was there something else you had in mind?"
"Yes. How about having her learn special bullet skills?"
Special bullets — Magic Bullets that wielded special effects, just as the name implied. Piercing, explosive, impact, cutting; the varieties were many. For instance, what Ahn Jungmi had fired at the Blood Cult Elder in the Black Market had been an impact-type special bullet.
There were several ways to manifest them, but three stood out: wield a specialized magic gun, load special rounds, or realize them outright as a skill.
The trouble was, with Seo Ye-in already owning a perfectly serviceable magic gun, stockpiling a specialized one was pure waste — and special rounds went a step further, amounting to flinging money at the ground. In a fight where lives hung in the balance, cost meant nothing, but for a practical assessment it did feel like a shame. And setting cost-efficiency aside entirely—
"Any gunslinger worth the name ought to know one or two special bullet skills anyway."
"I agree. Do you have a particular type to recommend?"
Ahn Jungmi asked, but I passed the choice to its rightful owner, pulling up the full list of special bullets for Seo Ye-in to see.
"You pick."
"......"
Gray eyes drifted slowly across the list. Then a finger rose, unhurried, and tapped one entry without the slightest ceremony.
"This one."
Ahn Jungmi and I traded a glance and nodded at the same time.
"You have chosen well, Agassi."
"Good pick."
"Then I will have it prepared and delivered at once."
True to form, Ahn Jungmi closed the call with a courteous bow.
And the next day—
"Kim Ho. Seo Ye-in."
"Yes, senior."
"Take these."
An upperclassman who looked the part of a scholarship student came to find us and handed over one skillbook and a single sheet of parchment rolled up tight.
Hyeseong Group's deep pockets are a terrifying thing.
They'd secured all of this not within a day — within a single night.