Disassembling the Junk (3)

I stayed at Workshop 1 until dawn, then caught a few hours of sleep back at the dorm.

When I woke, I sent Seo Ye-in a message, same as any other morning.

Silence. No reply came back.

I'd expected her temper to more or less cool off after a day, but judging by that reaction, apparently not.

That was one drawback of Wind Force: it could leave the other party considerably angrier than I'd ever intended.

In my own defense, I hadn't exactly chosen her as my PvP opponent, and at the time Wind Force was the only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠means I had of keeping her in check. Even so, I couldn't claim full innocence on the charge of rolling a girl round and round across a scorching-hot sandbox.

Messages aren't going to cut it.

This looked like a problem I'd have to settle face-to-face. Just in case, I waited a short while in front of the student cafeteria, but Seo Ye-in never showed. Convinced she truly wasn't coming, I saw to breakfast on my own, making quick work of a garlic bread and a coffee before heading to class.

I'd arrived unusually early, so the classroom was all but empty. And yet, of the handful of people there, one head of gray hair caught my eye.

Seo Ye-in lay sprawled face-down across her desk. She must have sensed my presence, because without lifting her head, she peeked her eyes out at me. The instant our gazes met, she slid soundlessly back down between her arms.

Unruffled, I took the seat beside her and asked, "You haven't eaten breakfast, have you."

"……"

Still no answer, as ever, but the circumstances made me all but certain. She hasn't.

My messages had probably woken her up. But she wasn't in the mood to eat with me, and it was too late in the morning to fall back asleep. Which lent plenty of weight to the likeliest scenario: she'd simply come straight to school.

"Well, you still need to eat something."

I set the paper bag down on her desk. Warmth seeped through it, carrying the rich, nutty smell of garlic bread. This was exactly why I'd grabbed a second one.

"……"

For a while, Seo Ye-in showed no reaction—though "pretended to show no reaction" would be the more accurate phrasing. Then, still face-down, she sneaked a hand toward the bag, picked up a piece of garlic bread, and began to nibble. Apparently her stomach had been louder than her pride.

Mid-nibble, her eyes met mine, and she quietly turned her head away. Still not over it, huh.

Her face was a perfect blank from start to finish, leaving no way to tell whether she was angry or not. But if we were going to talk, now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the time. I decided to skip the runaround and lay everything out straight.

"I overdid it yesterday. I wanted to show you where you're vulnerable."

"……"

Little by little, her eyes drifted toward me. Her gaze might be elsewhere, but her ears were open.

"As you know, your fighting style becomes drastically weaker the moment you're caught inside an area skill's range, or your position is exposed."

Sniping was, by its very nature, an attack aimed at a single point, so the slightest interference could throw off her aim. And this time, Wind Force had stabbed at that weakness with precision: a broad gust of wind made the hidden Seo Ye-in easy to pinpoint, and physical force shoving her muzzle this way and that sent her Magic Bullets veering off to all the wrong places.

She must have been feeling this out little by little against other opponents too, not just me. So what was the remedy? Seo Ye-in's ears pricked upright, demanding an answer.

"There's a skill called Immovable Stance. Cast it, and your posture won't break no matter how much you're disturbed. The damage still comes through in full, though… and a step beyond that, there's Fluidization—a skill that lets physical force simply flow right off you."

Beyond those, it would serve her well to learn a movement skill, stealth, or evasion techniques, so she could relocate quickly to her next sniping point whenever she was discovered.

"Your Magic Bullet fundamentals are solid, and your firepower's decent. From here on out, I'd say it's time to invest in support skills."

"Are you going to give me special lessons?"

"I'd rather teach you myself, but you'll get better results learning this from another gunslinger. Even if it's a hassle, sign up for Mentoring."

"…Okay. I will."

Seo Ye-in gave a nod and began filling out the mentoring application in quick, neat strokes—garlic bread still working between her teeth. Watching her, I swallowed a wry smile. She listens perfectly well when it suits her.

When I'd first brought up mentoring, her reaction had told me this would be an uphill climb—yet against all odds, a single round of persuasion had done it. She probably felt the need herself, but every so often she complied a little too docilely. I was curious why, but there was no need to strain for the answer. As the distance between us closed, it would come out naturally enough.

The real problem is her mentor…

I couldn't guarantee she'd show her mentor the same drive she showed me. Forget drive—I wasn't sure anyone could manage her at all. She made no effort to hide how drowsy and put-upon she felt even in front of Lee Sudok, the Human Butcher himself. Would a mere mentor fare any better?

Beats me, honestly.

For now, all I could do was hope for good luck. Or hope that Seo Ye-in would somehow brim with motivation in front of her mentor.

"Oh. I see Miss Seo is applying as well."

Go Hyeon-woo had appeared at some point, greeting and asking in the same breath. Seo Ye-in answered with a small bob of her head.

A quick check of his condition—

"Fully healed, I see."

"Just as you said, Brother Kim, I've come in peak condition."

He was burning with the resolve to see yesterday's unfinished PvP Assessment through to the end today—and to put the Leopard Death longsword and Leopard Head longsword he'd bought from the student store to the test as well.

I handed over the item I'd crafted in the small hours.

"Use this alongside them."

"And this is…?"

An iron clip about two finger-joints long. At a glance it could pass for something off a stationery-store shelf, but a closer look would reveal exquisitely fine components and geometric etching—proof that this was a work of magic engineering.

An item custom-built ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for one purpose and one purpose only: durability. Durability Protection softened how much a weapon was damaged—that is, how much durability it lost—while Automatic Durability Recovery mended it a tiny amount at a time on a fixed cycle.

Even so, the amounts were modest, and if he kept unleashing powerful techniques, the durability would drain faster than it could be restored regardless. Still, for a wound, it would do the work of ointment and a bandage.

Go Hyeon-woo fastened the clip to his shirt pocket.

"That sets my mind at ease. I'll make good use of it."

"Finish the rest of your PvP Assessments, and tomorrow we'll go over the results together."

"So I shall."

Tomorrow's replay would show how much longer an E- or D-Rank weapon backed by the Sturdy Clip held out compared to an F-Rank iron sword. I'd decide my next move based on what it revealed.

After class, I headed straight for Workshop 4.

The senior who all but lived there—Workshop 4's resident spirit, buried as always in his own work—greeted me first.

"You're here."

"Good afternoon."

Compared to yesterday, our relationship had improved by leaps and bounds. At ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the very least, the awkward tension had all but evaporated. We'd exchanged materials, and even after I'd come clean to Bong Jae-seok about it, everything had blown over without a hitch. That must have given him confidence that entangling himself with me carried no real downside. Besides, we'd likely trade again before long, and it was better for everyone to keep things amicable.

I settled in at a workbench and hauled out Bong Jae-seok's failed projects. I'd set the commission deadline generously, just in case, but I meant to clear it first thing if I could.

That was the price of the Mana Engine, after all.

A core material was best locked down sooner rather than later. I set to work at once.

Holding that state, focus unbroken, I began carving away at the great mass of scrap metal, piece by piece.

How much time had slipped past in that selfless trance? My hands stopped, and I set down my tools. The blue light filling my vision snuffed out in an instant.

Well, that's quite the haul.

The disassembled materials stood heaped high across the workbench. I glanced toward the window; the sky was only just deciding whether to redden. Two, maybe three hours since I'd started—and in that span, I'd polished off Bong Jae-seok's entire commission.

"Finished already?"

"Yes."

The question came from the third-year senior, unfiltered admiration written across his face. He seemed to have caught glimpses of me at work this time, too.

"Man… I honestly thought you were some kind of machine. How does anyone sit in one spot and grind through all of that without resting for even a second?"

Praise I'd heard plenty of before. Back when I was mass-producing S-Rank heroes, every theory under the sun had been floated about me.

In any case, Bong Jae-seok's commission was wrapped up; I'd hand everything over in one go when I stopped by Workshop 1 at midnight. Time to move on to the next order of business.

As I rose from my seat, the senior asked, "Heading back?"

"As if."

We turned our eyes to the mountain of junk in unison.

"There's still a long way to go."

With the Sturdy Clip delivered, everything on Go Hyeon-woo's list was done. Now it was my turn—time to settle the parts of my own weapon where magic engineering came into play.

Gathering materials went almost exactly as it had yesterday. For the parts that cost points—the Thermal Catalyst Reagent—I'd taken one from Go Hyeon-woo as my crafting fee. Some of the remaining materials would come from breaking down failed projects, and the rest the senior would cover for me, same as yesterday.

"Since you're at it anyway, could you do me a favor?"

'Since you're at it,' huh. That favor almost certainly had something to do with disassembly.

When I just looked at him without a word, he pointed at the mountain of junk and went on. "Truth is, there are a few things in there I need. I was wondering if you could disassemble with those as the priority. Only if you're all right with it, of course."

Yesterday, I'd disassembled first and he'd picked what he needed from whatever came out to barter. Today, he was proposing we pick out failed projects containing his materials from the very start, then break those down and trade on that basis.

I nodded without hesitation. "Fine by me."

"Appreciate it. I'll match whatever you need as best I can, too."

From where I stood, one way or another, all that mattered was getting my materials—there was no reason to refuse. It was the more efficient arrangement, too.

So we spent a while crouched in front of the junk pile, shopping. Once we'd each picked out what we wanted, we carried it all to the workbench and disassembled it in short order. These failed projects were far easier than Bong Jae-seok's commission, and in the blink of an eye they were transmuted into raw materials. The trade followed on the spot.

"Really, thank you. You've saved me a tremendous amount of time."

The senior thanked me over and over. All the legwork he would have spent running here and there hunting for materials, settled with a handful of trades over two days—and at a bargain price, at that. No wonder he was grateful.

For my part, I'd gathered everything I needed as well. I'd take it all to Workshop 1 at midnight to craft.

Checking the time on a whim—

Plenty left.

Even with Bong Jae-seok's commission done and the materials for my second item secured, midnight was still a long way off. Should I head to the Training Center for some practice, or stockpile spare materials I didn't strictly need yet?

Before long, though, the question answered itself.

Because the work came looking for me.

"Is that him?"

"I think it's him?"

Outside Workshop 4, two pairs of eyes were peering in at us.