Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: [Abyssal Miner] Loser (1)
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The image of a dagger stabbing into the pupil.
Fucking classic and crude, but the intent came through loud and clear.
'Threat, or maybe a warning.'
I flipped the letter paper over front and back, wondering if there was some message written on it, but there was nothing else.
Just a warning to behave since they were watching.
Either way, it pissed me off just the same.
'Do they think they're Big Brother or something?'
It could be some hidden message that only appears after time passes or special treatment, but let's rule that out.
Guys trying to threaten you wouldn't make it so hard to read that you couldn't even get the message.
Unless the other side was a total moron, which they probably weren't.
"Eek, what's that? Creepy drawing."
Right in front of me, the innkeeper could see the picture too.
I waved the letter paper and asked.
"No idea. More importantly, what did the guy who left this look like?"
"Huh? Uh... average. Just your typical passerby... brown hair, some freckles...? Or maybe not? I don't think there were any... His face was just so vague."
The innkeeper's voice lacked confidence.
"Got it. That helps."
"Huh? This much helps?"
"Of course."
I said that and flicked him a Lumina silver coin.
"Thank you."
The innkeeper caught the coin and expressed his gratitude.
No real reason to give it, but doing this just felt good.
Plus, it gave me a hunch about who they might be.
'Shadow Merchant Group.'
The backers I'd heard about when I smashed that red scorpion guy.
They weren't in the original story, but whatever their game was, they'd ordered control over the flame stone supply.
Guess they weren't happy I blocked that.
The vague impression meant one of two things.
Either they handed the letter to some random average joe passing by to deliver.
Or it was a trained pro who altered his face or disguised himself to avoid being remembered.
With a grandiose name like Shadow Merchant Group, probably the latter.
I crumpled up the letter paper and tossed it aside.
Nothing I could do about it right now anyway, and it was bad luck.
'First, go pick up Erika.'
Shit to do, so get to it.
At Erika's boarding house, the landlady grandma—now somewhat familiar— was out in the garden.
Sitting in a rocking chair, doing some embroidery or whatever.
"Hello!"
"What...?"
"HEL-lo!"
"Nice weather?"
"HEL! LO!"
"Ah, good morning then."
Erika said the old lady was hard of hearing, and damn if she wasn't—had to yell every time.
Thanks to that, the door soon opened, and Erika came running out.
"Lee Jun! You're early. Good morning."
"Yeah, morning. Sleep well, Erika?"
"Like a rock! I was so wiped yesterday, passed out the second I got in."
"Same here."
"Ehehe."
Lies, but whatever.
By the time I got back to the inn, I was fully recharged and trained solo before bed.
After splitting with Erika yesterday, I thought about it.
The Sword Saint grandpa teaching me all those little details.
No matter how you sliced it, it didn't feel like plain kindness.
'Because I have no talent.'
Comparing how he taught Erika made it obvious.
When I was beat and exhausted, it just looked like he was picking on me, bitching and glaring.
But once my stamina recovered and I mulled it over, the differences in training stood out.
'Erika got it right away, no matter what he explained, and followed perfectly. Didn't even need corrections.'
Me? Even after constant instruction, I'd get chewed out for not doing it right.
I'm no genius like Kyle or Erika who can pick it up from a demo or quick tip.
Generous estimate: average at best, or straight-up dullard. So he broke it down step by step.
That was my conclusion.
I can't keep up with identical training.
So extend training time.
All I've got is recovery speed and endless stamina anyway—gotta grind harder.
Sure, little bird chasing stork tears its crotch, but my trait heals it right up.
Keep chasing, and maybe something happens.
With that mindset, I swung the sword late into the night before crashing.
Slept little, but my personal healing factor trait Blessing of the Earth keeps my body primed, so skimping on sleep hit zero penalty.
'Habitually slept 7-8 hours till now, but feels like I don't need to anymore?'
Used to force extra sleep for fun dreams, but lately no dreams—probably full fatigue recovery.
Plan to cut sleep gradually, find the sweet spot.
Chatting with Erika, we reached the clearing before meeting the old man.
Stuff to do first.
"Magic sword, come forth."
Sounded lame solo, but did it anyway since Erika was there.
Otherwise, I'd look like some weirdo muttering to himself.
Shing—thud.
The Mid-grade Iron Demon-Slaying Sword felt slightly different in my hand.
Lighter, maybe?
Few more days of training, and I could probably wield it one-handed.
"Wooow..."
Erika watched with sparkling eyes beside me.
Third time, still novel to her.
"That impressive?"
"Yes! Super rare! And you were born with it. So jealous!"
"Huh. I'm jealous of you, Erika."
"Me? Why would someone as amazing as you be jealous of me?"
She really didn't know, which stung a bit.
Talent gap—you can't bridge it no matter what.
Even if I'm stronger now, anything Erika gains from steady practice, she'll catch up eventually.
'Well, from her view, my Inventory power probably looks like talent too.'
At yesterday's clearing, the Sword Saint geezer was already waiting.
"Late."
"Didn't you say same time as yesterday? Still 30 minutes early."
"Pupil shows up late, no eagerness to learn early, just backtalk first?"
"Sorry."
Apologized meekly.
This is still backward medieval knight-land ruled by outdated chivalry.
Boomer mindset's the default.
Nothing for it—modern guy like me has to suck it up.
Blame being too ahead of the times.
Thwack!
"Kyaak!"
Scabbard to the ass—why!?
"Quit the dumb face and assume stance."
As ordered, gripped the Mid-grade Iron Demon-Slaying Sword, hands together at solar plexus, pointed forward.
Middle guard from kendo.
Harder to hold than it looks.
"What today?"
"Downward strike."
"Huh? Again?"
Downward strikes were tedious even before this geezer showed.
Thwack!
"Urk!"
"Can't do one right, already dreaming of something else? Gotta rewire that thick skull."
"Then just one more... How long till we're done? Any set goal?"
"Where's that? Till it suits me."
After that, like yesterday: whacked while correcting form.
Keeps fixing, but why no end?
Was one downward strike this hard?
Grinded that repetitive slog again.
He'd vanish mid-session for "business," return way later.
Time passed, Shadow Merchant Group sent their letter and nothing happened—they faded from memory.
Days blurred: train with Erika and Sword Saint daytime, solo nights.
Midnight training, finally got the Swordsmanship skill.
Faster than Acupuncture after Hand of God.
Old me would've been ecstatic.
Screaming kyaaaoo, rolling on the floor.
Fuck off bitches blocking my path! Total freakout.
But time changed me plenty.
'Cut sleep to grind this endless slog, and it barely pops now...'
Means my talent's rock bottom.
Most skills weren't from systematic training.
'Used to bitch at the system: why only trash skills?'
System wasn't the issue.
The traits, Into the Comics, just reflected what I did.
Matched rewards to actions.
Sloppy three-section staff from YouTube, bashing Viper: Club Strike.
Brawl from endless mine scraps, flailing wildly.
Deception from scamming and mouthing off.
'Proper skills took forever.'
Body Reinforcement: just cycled mana everywhere, basic boost.
Mana Coating, Mana Detection: elixir side effects.
Hand of God: quest reward from Quack Doctor world.
Effort ones: Mining, Medicine Crafting, Massage, Acupuncture.
Mining: Hans's tips + trait infinite grind.
Acupuncture, Medicine Crafting: devoted quack master, ages of time barely learned.
Massage the odd one out.
'No talent here.'
Felt it in my bones over time.
Had to.
'Maybe I've got some hidden genius?'
Learn quick once taught?
Grow fast under Sword Saint?
All that crumbled training under him.
Erika learned tons, now sparring-like.
Me? Endless same reps, skill after ages.
Thought post-skill:
'This hell for one lousy skill—how long for real secret arts?'
That's it.
Greedy thought, sure.
Swordsmanship ain't easy.
'I know. I get it.'
Skills add buffs to existing proficiency.
No swordsmanship skill from casual swings, like no staff skill from mimicry.
'Hard to get, so skillbooks pricey—why we grind to death.'
I know.
Get it, still fucking hurts.
'Cause perks stacked on me.'
Traits make skills easier relatively.
Snagged protagonist opportunities early.
Synergies give great start.
'Yet treading water like a chump.'
True genius crushes wills around them instantly.
Whispers of Why can't you? Isn't it obvious?
No malice, still wounds.
'Did I get along with Erika cause I didn't grasp her fully?'
Even jealous of my girlfriend Erika.
And it started a few days back in the mine expedition.