Fluffy and Cushiony

When special items emerge from a random box, unique visual effects often accompany them.

Judging by the clouds rolling out, it looks like it stayed in the same family.

Given the unpredictable nature of the Surprise Magic Box, I’d anticipated a decent chance that our Fluffy and Dark Cloud bracelets might be swapped out for an entirely different set of accessories. Yet, as if our little lucky charm’s silent wish had been granted, the cloud motif seemed wholly preserved.

Seo Ye-in’s voice drifted through the impenetrable fog.

"...Where?"

"Right here. Hand."

She reached out and softly took hold of my outstretched hand. As I gently pumped our clasped hands up and down like a slow handshake, the dense vapor gradually thinned and dispersed.

In place of the Surprise Box lay a pair of bracelets, their design remarkably similar to the originals. They looked like fingernail-sized clouds strung together along a slender golden thread. The only striking difference was a comparatively plump cloud nestled right in the center.

Checking their stats:

Turned out pretty nicely.

The utility of the cumulus and dark clouds had already been proven across numerous duels and dungeon raids. On top of that, each now came with an active skill, along with open upgrade slots. Depending on what we fused into them down the line, reaching S-Rank wasn't out of the question.

Peering at the item descriptions, Seo Ye-in tilted her head.

"Fluffy?"

"Let's test-drive them right here before we head out. Give me your wrist."

"Mm."

I clasped the Fluffy Bracelet around Seo Ye-in's wrist and slipped the Dark Cloud Cushiony Bracelet onto mine.

With a soft pop, a pair of fist-sized clouds—one stark white and the other stormy dark—materialized into existence. Immediately, they began scampering through the air, chasing each other in a game of tag.

Watching them frolic for a second, I sent a subtle nod her way, prompting Ye-in to activate her skill.

"...Fluffy."

Poof!

The cumulus cloud billowed outward in an instant, swelling like a detonated smoke grenade.

So that's how it blocks magic now.

Previously, she had to manually guide the tiny puff of cloud to swallow incoming enemy spells one by one, and it couldn't even absorb that many before reaching capacity. Now, however, the area expanded drastically for a brief moment, effectively erecting a full-fledged cloud wall.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Soon, the white cloud shrank back to its original compact size, and it was my turn to trigger the skill.

"Cushiony."

Poof!

The dark cloud expanded into the size of an oversized pillow. While Fluffy dispersed broadly and thinly like a smokescreen, Cushiony was much more concentrated, trading surface area for dense compaction.

Since cumulus clouds were designed to absorb magical attacks while dark clouds were meant to deflect physical impacts, their respective skills naturally reflected those distinct properties.

Piqued by curiosity, Seo Ye-in poked the dark cloud with a slender finger.

"Cushiony."

"Go ahead, lean on it."

At my suggestion, she replaced her finger with an open palm, tentatively rested her head against it, and then, looking thoroughly delighted, wrapped her arms around the cloud in a full embrace.

"...Cushiony."

She looked ready to drift off to sleep right then and there, but her bliss was short-lived. The dark cloud quickly collapsed back to its fist-sized default.

"...?"

Her gaze naturally drifted toward me, her wide eyes practically asking, Why would you do something so cruel?

I offered a helpless shrug. "Don't look at me. The duration is just short."

Both Cushiony and Fluffy provided tremendous physical and magical defense respectively, but their active duration was fleeting. Add in a punishing one-hour cooldown, and they could only realistically be used once per engagement. Still, as a trump card to turn the tide, their performance was more than exceptional.

"..."

Despite my explanation, Ye-in's expression remained distinctly sullen. Handing her a heavenly pillow only to snatch it away seconds later clearly didn't sit well with her.

Fortunately, changing the subject was easy enough. We were already out in the Downtown Commercial District, after all.

"Shall we get going? To the Game Center."

"Mm."

Sure enough, her interest was instantly piqued, and she gave an eager nod.

We headed straight for the student-exclusive section inside the Game Center.

Nearly two months had passed since our last visit, but the arcade cabinets were arranged almost exactly as before. The game lineup hadn't changed much either, with over half the floor still occupied by Weapon Master. It was immensely popular among the student body, not to mention a notorious sink for points.

I traded glances with Ye-in.

"Let's check the prize catalog first."

"Mm."

The proper protocol was always to identify the target first, then play the game that rewarded it. Scanning down the weekly prize list:

"They've got Random Rank Ups."

Those didn't pop up very often. Coming out to the Downtown Commercial District this week had clearly been the right call. It was a slight shame there were only two on offer, but since they directly boosted stats and abilities—and let me stamp my Stamp Coupon in case of failure—they took absolute priority.

"..."

A quick glance sideways showed Seo Ye-in staring at them with clear longing as well. Next, we checked the acquisition criteria.

"Conditions are pretty forgiving this time."

Last time, Ye-in had to notch 20 kills while I racked up 20 assists separately, but this time it was just 15 combined. We didn't have to funnel all the takedowns onto a single person, and the benchmark was lower. Since it only yielded two scrolls, the game had dialed back the difficulty accordingly.

Of course, the fact that dying three times meant disqualification hadn't changed, meaning we couldn't let our guard down.

We settled into a two-player cabinet for Weapon Master. Paying 300 points each, we purchased our tokens and slotted them into the machine.

A human silhouette stamped with a question mark appeared on screen, cycling through various shapes at dizzying speed as the system randomized our characters.

Watching the icons flash by, Seo Ye-in murmured, "Barbarian."

"You want that one?"

"Hits hard."

She had had a blast playing the Barbarian last time, so it made sense she wanted an encore. She'd bulldozed through enemy ranks like an unstoppable juggernaut, while I played a sneaky tribal blowdart specialist, offering underhanded support from the shadows.

Though I doubt we'll roll the same ones again.

While the selection was supposedly random, the game had a subtle habit of avoiding classes a player had recently picked. Some hidden magical mechanism was almost certainly at work under the hood. Still, seeing no point in dampening her spirits, I kept that observation to myself.

Before long, the question mark on my side solidified into a character. A slender man wrapped from head to toe in black cloth, wielding a pair of needle-sharp daggers like lethal thorns in either hand. He crossed the blades, unleashing a crisp metallic ring.

Shing!

Assassin.

True to the archetype, his health pool was pitifully fragile—a hit or two would drop him instantly—but in exchange, his burst damage was monstrous, complemented by the ability to vanish into stealth.

My personal favorite.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, Ye-in’s screen locked in as well.

Shing!

Aside from a slight palette swap in attire, it was identical to mine down to every pixel. She’d rolled an Assassin too.

"Copycat."

"...?"

Ye-in shook her head in mild confusion, silently signaling she had no idea how it happened either. Just like that, we were an Assassin duo.

Actually, this works out great.

Assassins were heavily reliant on team composition; if your partner didn’t synergize, you ended up playing completely disjointed games. Pairing with a mage was a classic disaster: both were squishy glass cannons incapable of peeling for each other, and diving in carelessly often meant getting clipped by your own ally’s area-of-effect spells. Running double Assassins, by comparison, was surprisingly solid. As long as we moved in tandem, our burst potential would sync seamlessly, and I could easily handle the macro shot-calling.

Once every participant’s character locked in, the display shifted abruptly. The next moment, our avatars stood in the heart of a lush, overgrown forest.

"Great starting terrain."

"Lots of cover."

Massive boulders jutted out at regular intervals, and ancient trees with broad trunks offered flawless concealment. With dense undergrowth and thickets scattered everywhere, it was paradise for assassins. A countdown ticked across the screen, heralding the match's start.

"All right, let's roll. Rev your engines."

"Vroom vroom."

We began advancing through the woodlands, eyes peeled on our surroundings. Before long, we halted.

"Company incoming."

"Guests."

A pair of silhouettes was ambling toward us from the opposite tree line—one hulking and broad-shouldered, the other slight and slender.

I murmured a quick directive to Ye-in. "Stealth up first."

"Mm."

At the activation of Stealth, both of our avatars blurred into translucent phantoms. Tucking ourselves behind cover, we laid in ambush. Soon enough, the approaching duo came into plain view: a Barbarian taking point, trailed closely by a Mage.

I issued another command. "Let's take out the Barbarian first."

"..."

Ye-in gave a barely perceptible chin nod in reply.

Coiling our focus to an absolute razor edge, we tracked their strides. The exact ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠second they crossed our engagement threshold, we broke concealment together, rocketing toward the Barbarian like twin bolts of lightning.

Four barbed daggers converged on his vitals in terrifying unison.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

"Wait, what the hell?!"

A startled screech echoed from the opposite side of the student section. Undoubtedly the player piloting the Barbarian. Naturally, the Barbarian had dropped dead on the spot, deleted by the singular ambush. The Mage gasped, trying to scramble into a defensive response, but his fate had already been sealed. Before he could string together a single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠syllable of his incantation, twin blades buried themselves into the nape of his neck.

Thwick-thwick!

"Hits hard."

"Hits real hard."

By standard doctrine, ambushing the backline Mage first was the textbook play. But with two Assassins combining their burst, our instantaneous DPS was so absurd that we could obliterate even beefy frontliners in a single heartbeat. Besides, catching them flat-footed in the opening minutes of the match made countering nearly impossible.

Pocketing two easy kills, I glanced over at Ye-in.

"Let's camp here for a bit."

"Prime spot."

There wasn't a better piece of terrain for stealth across the entire map. Rather than roaming aimlessly, staking out this bottleneck felt like the superior play. We could just harvest whoever wandered in.

I slipped between the rock fissures while Ye-in melted into a dense thicket, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠settling in to wait.

Sure enough, fresh guests showed up before long.

"Look who's back."

It was the exact same Barbarian and Mage duo we'd just executed. They had clearly respawned and marched straight back on a vendetta.

The Barbarian slashed wildly at nearby bushes and tree trunks in paranoia, while the Mage held a half-chanted spell at the ready, poised to loose it at the first twitch of movement. Their spirit was commendable, but seeking revenge against the reigning grandmaster of minigames required a whole lot more skill than they possessed.

The moment they drifted into range, Ye-in and I burst forth.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Four daggers pierced clean through the Barbarian once again. The Mage panicked, unleashing his prepped spell in a frantic flurry, but we side-stepped the trajectory effortlessly before slicing his throat wide open.

"Argh! Again?!"

The victim’s furious shriek rang across the student arcade zone.

Marching back for retribution only to get completely dismantled without landing a scratch was bound to induce some serious rage. Yet, as the sound faded, a sudden realization struck me.

Wait... that voice sounds awfully familiar.

Isn't that Hong Yeon-hwa?