Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Gonna Be a Blacksmith Peeping Master
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There's a saying about learning by peeking over someone's shoulder.
The basic skill of fieldwork pros: the Eye-Steal skill.
It means swiping other people's techniques by snooping around.
Butchery is one of those 3D jobs, too.
There are tricks even the seniors won't spill easily.
Usually it's more about business or storage than the cutting itself.
But who am I?
A pro who opened his own shop in a field like that.
Baek Jeong-uk, the butcher who recites poetry by the pleasure quarters.
I kicked off some pro-level industrial espionage.
Hmm.
Come to think of it, spying's a shady gig, too.
...Glance.
Me, sneaking peeks at the busy blacksmiths hard at work.
Not with my eyes wide open, though.
Get caught stealing techniques, and I might get booted.
'Max out Detection.'
I blend my senses, expand them, focus.
Every move and step of the blacksmiths engrossed in their craft.
I memorize it all down to the tiniest detail.
"?"
Hey, no need to try that hard.
Still, worked out great.
Let's put these new skills to use while we're at it.
'Ahem. Hmm? Hm.'
Pretty much the same as those NewTube vids I watch sometimes.
Just killin' time stuff, though.
I'd been play-acting spy for a good while like that.
"Mister, need a hand with anything?"
"Huh?"
Maybe 'cause I'd left my hands idle too long.
A kid I'd never seen sneaks up and asks.
Tanned skin, looks like he's put in some real work.
This thick 3D-job camaraderie wafting off him!
I chuckled under my breath at the blacksmiths.
"You a blacksmith too, huh?"
"Still just an apprentice."
"Figures. 'I've learned all there is, why ain't they givin' me work~' You slink around pokin' at folks who look ripe for it, right?"
The boy blacksmith's jaw dropped.
"...Mister, you a shaman or somethin'?"
"...And how do you know about shamans?"
"You think climbers from outside are rare around here?"
"Fair point."
But a shaman, huh.
Hmm.
'Shamanism's a shady profession too, right?'
Butcher, thug, courtesan, shaman.
Those four jobs never missed a beat in 500 years of Joseon history. The supreme quartet.
Treated like the Four Emperors of the lowborn caste, or so they say.
'Wonder if I've got talent for shaman stuff too?'
Getting curious now.
Feels like my intuition's sharpened since climbing the tower.
What if a spirit possessed me or somethin'.
Nah, no way.
"Not exactly a shaman, but I could use some help."
I rummaged through my bag while lost in thought.
Out tumble the broken Orc Nos. 1 through 3.
And the intact No. 4.
That No. 4 looks like a busted spear too, kinda.
"Holy crap! What's all this?!"
"Smashed 'em up fightin'. Wanna fix these up myself and turn 'em into proper blades."
"Melt 'em down and pour into a mold?"
"Nah, that needs a forge. Just swap the handles for me."
Saw it on NewTube.
DIY knife handle tutorial.
How'd I end up watchin' that.
Some American dude channel slicin' whole pigs with a greatsword.
Guess their algorithm got me.
"Four of 'em? What for?"
"Gonna enhance up to +2."
"...These? Really?"
"Broke anyway, won't sell at tower shops for more than scrap iron. Might as well use 'em. Can't do it?"
"Nah? Let's do it. Get started."
The kid grins.
Was gonna test him, but he's quick on the uptake.
I smirked and grabbed Orc No. 3.
--
--
Yeah, trash.
So trashy, no pressure at all.
Practice and experiments it is.
'First, grind down this mangled blade.'
I'd already seen how to use the whetstone.
Rub rub, three done.
'Next, the handles.'
Borrow that NewTube memory here.
Drill a hole in the blade,
Stack wood blocks, carve into handle shape.
Fill the hole with spare nails or scrap metal?
'Sand it smooth, coat, done.'
Problem is,
No abrasives or coating stuff around, huh.
"Teach. How do ya fix the handle bein' all rough? My hands'll shred doin' knife work like this."
The kid grinding No. 4's blade doesn't answer.
Why's he got that blank look.
Sleepy?
"...Mister, you a blacksmith?"
"That's why I'm askin', duh? Oh, wrap leather around the handle, got it."
Good call spyin' with Detection.
Saw other smiths doin' similar.
Especially [Undercover] and [Eavesdropping].
Those are pullin' their weight.
Observation and info intake without even tryin'.
"Hm. Cheaper to wrap after double enhancement, huh. How much for spare leather?"
"...I'll buy 'em, make all four."
"Ah, gotta for enhancement? Gotcha. Still, lemme pay."
Cut leather, slather glue.
Toss one done, start another.
Hand's gettin' the hang of it quick.
-Pling pling pling!
"...How'd you drill that hole in the blade?"
"Finger."
My finger's tougher than thin sheet metal.
Stats three times over.
'But even so, Orc Warrior boss pokes and I'm done.'
Tough or not, thin means easy to pierce.
Like my skin and this plate.
The boy smith clams up again.
Face twitchin'—soldering side effect?
Artisan's plight.
'One left.'
Grind blade, drill, assemble.
Slice. Stab. Peg. Free it shall be.
Last, hack here, there, glue up?
"Done!"
".................."
"Huh? What's up, why ain't you done a single one?"
Wasn't that what you wanted?
While I crank out three, he's just halfway on one blade.
Wait.
'Hold up, did I just get played?'
Lazy ass had me do it while he grinds blades?
Almost felt wronged, but held it in.
Was my job solo anyway.
More importantly,
Next part's beyond me.
I hand over the finished No. 1.
"Here. Enhance this No. 1."
"How'd you know which is No. 1?"
"Look. Break patterns are all different."
"Where...?"
The confused kid moves like a sleepwalker.
What I mean is,
He grabs the hammer all fumbling, clueless what he's doin'.
'Kid's gonna smash his finger.'
That's why the adults won't give him work yet?
My worry was old-lady fussin'.
-Clang! Clang!
-Flash!
He hammers away like possessed,
And in a blink, Orc No. 1's enhanced.
Enhancement success glow!
Flashbang hits, kid's eyes clear up.
"...Hah! What was I doin'?"
"Enhancin' my blade."
"Gear enhancement? Me? No memory?"
"Drunken Fist?!"
Zone out and hammerin' gets better?
That's why dwarves drink.
Tolkien nailed it.
Artisan extremes all researched.
And the result looks solid.
This forge's boss is impressed too.
"Worried when the brat took an order on his own, but this finish? It'll hold on 2nd layer!"
"That wasn't me... though."
"?"
Oh, scratch that.
Not enhancement—handle quality praise.
'My handiwork got props.'
The boss's eyes glaze over.
High-ranker's gaze at fresh meat.
But his excitement cools fast.
"Climber, huh. Goin' for 2nd layer?"
"Gotta see how far I get."
"Good answer. Learned from family?"
"Nah. Y'know, from big bros I know..."
Aha.
Thinks I'm a smith.
Sadly, wrong.
'Don't think I've got smith talent.'
Not lyin'.
Proof's there.
'No skill popped.'
Normally it'd trigger one by now.
No vibe at all.
Means outside [Noble Body, Baseborn Role]'s scope.
'But feels like talent in other crafting skills?'
That handiwork flow feel.
Familiar.
Like when [Deficiency] amps my talents.
Same sensation.
My other handcraft talents.
Forced it through with those.
That's the vibe.
But shady crafting tech.
What could it be.
No such thing as back-alley smithin'.
Not like gun smugglers.
And if so, illegal knights or fire mages should work too.
'Ugh, no clue.'
What's thinkin' get me.
I'll figure it climbin'.
'Still sucks missin' enhancement skill.'
Smithin's [Noble Body, Baseborn Role] too, supposedly.
Lowly job treatment.
But that's that.
This is this.
[Noble Body, Baseborn Role]'s status power is pure boomer.
Discriminates like yangban vs. butcher.
Thought same low-job equals equals?
Smiths are daylight civil servants...!
Real lowborn outsider butcher and smiths got an uncrossable 'class' gap...!
I put on a glum face and tested.
"Yeah, and family said don't even dream of dirty back-world stuff..."
"What?! Who calls smithin' dirty!"
"Ah, knew it."
Yeah yeah.
Didn't think so either.
'Confirmed not shady.'
Thief, butcher, cat-grabber shady jobs.
They'd never say 'Who calls us dirty!'
Use this as benchmark from now on.
- Ain't this dirty work?
- Huh? Talkin' smack?
That reaction? Jackpot.
100% my talent zone.
Days of growin' wiser by the hour.
While pacifyin' the pissed smith,
The boy smith runs up askin'.
"Mister! You are experienced, right?!"
"Yep."
First time, just now.
About 10 minutes.
Too short?
But the boy smith looks thrilled.
"Knew it! No rookie pulls that off! Genius turnin' pro in 10 min holdin' tools?!"
"Nah. It's fine."
"Ain't! You'll crush every smith here!"
That big a deal?
Makin' me shy.
Such an energetic kid.
Makin' my resignation fade.
'Yeah, too early to quit on no talent.'
Enhancement skill?
Didn't expect much from jump.
I ain't learnin' smith skills.
That's for sure.
But.
'Every rule's got loopholes.'
That's why gear enhancement, right.
Don't mix means and ends.
Callin' me a lowlife shady drifter?
Fine, I'll play it that way.
'Whatever craft skill, I'll find it and make it count.'
Tough figurin' what, though.
I grinned at Orc No. 1.
Then froze.
--
--
"?"
What're you.
How'd you turn Rare.
'And extra skills plus status effects?'
Were these options always there?
As if.
I checked the details first.
Confusion's obvious, but Despair?
Aha.
Mental break, no strength state.
The head smith clicks his tongue.
"Shaman runes or alchemy, dunno, but reforgin' low-grade weapons like this."
"Outside dimension tech? Wild."
"Knew smithin' wasn't it—shaman confirmed."
Got it.
Perfectly.
"I've got shaman talent."
"?"
No wonder [Giftcon] only did body alchemy.
You special, Jeong-uk.
The smiths' freakout praise makes sense.
'Why'd grindin' and handlin' turn it into dark alchemy temper-quenched nightmare.'
This point, Heavenly Demon Body or somethin'.
Still, luck's luck.
Decided to find my talent, boom answer.
Can't make or enhance weapons direct,
But add options, mod 'em? Yes.
After thinkin', I said,
"...Wanna try enhancin' these gloves too?"
Orc Warrior!
Watch close!
I'll infuse your soul into these gloves!