After learning the Saintess’s shocking nickname, the sacred and prim image I had conjured in my mind shattered completely.
Yet, as a brief moment passed, I found myself feeling rather good about it.
With the unapproachable aura surrounding the title of Saintess now broken, she seemed far more accessible.
Somehow, a surge of confidence filled me, and I immediately began to deliberate the contents of the message to send to the Saintess—no, to the ‘Seongnyo’ (TL Note: A play on words, replacing ‘Saintess’ (성녀) with ‘Seongnyo’ (성뇨), which sounds like ‘holy urine’).
My D-rank Light Staff was essentially useless, and despite her rather… peculiar nickname, she remained one of only eleven S-rank Awakened individuals worldwide, the veritable de facto leader of the Holy Nation.
Before dispatching the message, my primary concern was to ensure my identity remained undisclosed to the public.
At present, I held no affiliation with any guild.
While the Twilight Orphanage Director’s egregious blunder had granted me profound freedom, it had simultaneously plunged me into an exceedingly perilous state, devoid of any protection.
I was far more than a mere goose laying golden eggs.
Crafting B-rank equipment for the first time in the world within a mere two days was already an unbelievable feat, and I knew this was only the beginning.
I doubted I could truly rest easy until a self-defense mechanism was unlocked, or at the very least, until Kwon Yena completed her three years with the guild and could officially serve as my bodyguard.
“Hah… what am I to do?”
My stomach rumbled loudly—
“Oh.”
It suddenly struck me that I hadn’t consumed a single thing since departing the orphanage yesterday.
Evidently, I had been so intoxicated by dopamine that I hadn’t even registered the gnawing hunger within me.
With absolutely no food in the house, I began preparing to step out and find something to eat.
“…Hold on, do I even have any money?”
The subsidy I had received upon leaving amounted to five million won.
On the very first day, I had already spent 500,000 won on training facility rental fees, along with an additional 3.3 million won for the studio apartment’s deposit and first month’s rent.
That should have left me with a total of 1.2 million won…
—or so it should have been. Yet, the moment I verified my abilities, an irresistible urge to witness them on a larger screen led me to order a computer, costing a total of 1.05 million won.
This left me with a paltry 150,000 won.
Such a meager sum wouldn’t even sustain me for a week.
No, while I technically *could* survive on it, I absolutely refused to!
Having finally turned my life around, I harbored no desire to scrape by, scrounging for meals worth mere thousands of won.
Halting my exit, I instead opened the Hunter Gallery and navigated to its Auction House tab.
[You have accessed the Auction House for the first time! Would you like to link with [Blacksmith] ?]
“Oh?”
Upon entering the Auction House, a notification message, akin to those I encountered while using the Blacksmith skill, immediately popped up.
Though I had no idea what benefits linking would confer, I figured there could be no harm in it, so I promptly tapped [Yes].
[Hunter Gallery Auction House and [Blacksmith] linking successful! [Name Engraving] function unlocked.]
The Auction House and Blacksmith had been linked.
I instantly re-entered the Gallery Auction House, but nothing outwardly appeared different.
“What exactly changed?”
While it was possible I simply didn’t recognize the changes, having never accessed the Auction House before, it certainly didn’t seem as though any of my Blacksmith functions had been integrated.
After thoroughly scanning, and finding nothing, I momentarily closed the Gallery and opened the Blacksmith interface to investigate.
It felt utterly preposterous that the Blacksmith interface would appear the moment I opened my phone, despite having been engrossed in it constantly since yesterday.
Navigating directly to the main screen, I thankfully found that changes had indeed occurred there, with new functions added.
The newly added features were [Move to Auction House] and [Name Engraving].
I began by tapping [Move to Auction House] to examine it.
“Oh…”
To my astonishment, it was an exact replica of the Auction House I had just accessed via the Hunter Gallery.
I couldn’t even discern what, if anything, had changed within it.
Pondering that there must be a reason for its inclusion, perhaps revealing itself later, I decided to view it as a mere convenience patch, allowing me to swiftly sell items immediately after [Equipment Production].
“When I think of it that way, it’s not so bad, is it?”
If they were truly committed enough to implement even convenience patches, I held out hope that these crude designs would eventually be updated. With that thought, I proceeded to examine the [Name Engraving] function.
[ ]
[ ]
[Engrave]
This time, there were two blank fields.
I instinctively touched the uppermost blank field, yet received no response. When I then tapped the middle field, an item list promptly appeared on the right.
“Hmm…”
For the moment, I selected the C-rank Shortsword I had intended to sell without delay.
“Now what?”
Tutorials, after all, were always the last resort.
It was clear that I’d have to endure all the newly added tutorials I’d skipped so far, all in one go.
“Ugh…”
After pondering with a concentration that transcended human limits, befitting an EX-rank Blacksmith, I finally arrived at a brilliant solution.
Since it was ‘Name Engraving,’ I reasoned, ‘Why not just conjure the name in my mind, much like I did when creating my Gallery nickname?’ This struck me as an ingenious approach.
[f*cking Super Strong]
[Shortsword(C)]
[Engrave]
“Oh, it actually worked.”
So, why on earth would such a feature be necessary?
I grasped its utility, yet its fundamental purpose remained elusive.
Surely, merely assigning a name couldn’t possibly generate additional, related effects.
That would be tantamount to custom-inserting abilities, after all.
“Shit, wait a moment…”
Wasn’t the Blacksmith profession itself inherently like that?
When did I begin to simply accept that the type, attributes, and abilities of the equipment I forged were entirely random?
“Ahhh…”
It was a marketing ploy.
During the tutorial phase, they had bestowed upon me a Light-attribute Staff—equipment far superior to anything I could have conceived—which was precisely why I had overlooked it without a shred of suspicion.
I yearned to formally protest this, yet no function resembling a [Customer Service] existed.
“Ahem… right… I can simply pray to Lord Hephaestus…”
Though a fleeting sense of injustice washed over me, I quickly decided to view it positively: having crafted a B-rank item on only the second day, accepting the penalty of randomness seemed a reasonable trade-off.
Regardless, after that brief detour into indignation, I resolved to contemplate the true effect of [Name Engraving].
“Should I try it, just for the experience?”
Withdrawing the C-rank Shortsword I had placed there, I instead inserted the most utterly worthless piece of equipment from my inventory.
A Worn Iron Sword.
“Hmm…”
[SSS-Rank]
[Worn Iron Sword]
[Engrave]
I promptly assigned a name that struck me as both the most intuitive and potentially capable of manifesting the most dramatic change in performance.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I immediately tapped [Engrave], and to my astonishment—
[A new name has been engraved on 『Worn Iron Sword (E)』.]
[You have obtained 『SSS-Rank Worn Iron Sword (E)』!]
“Hahahaha!!… Ah…”
I had held a flicker of hope, just in case, but as anticipated, merely engraving a name proved incapable of altering an item’s performance.
It truly seemed to be a function that, quite literally, only engraved names.
As I gazed fixedly at the innocent Worn Iron Sword, it subtly appeared more appealing than it had moments before.
『SSS-Rank Worn Iron Sword (E)』
It looked infinitely superior to a mere worn iron sword.
“Isn’t this just… a commercial blacksmith, through and through?”
There was, indeed, a clear reason why [Name Engraving] had been unlocked through the Auction House linkage.
After all, if an item bore a 멋들어진 (TL Note: “Cool” or “stylish”) name, even with identical performance, buyers would be far more inclined to purchase the one with the appealing moniker.
Understanding this, I immediately began to deliberate what name would best ensure the C-rank Shortsword sold quickly and profitably.
Should I perhaps choose an exaggerated name, like “SSS-Rank,” to draw attention?
Alternatively, I could brand my own name, much like the blacksmiths depicted in comics.
“Hmm…”
After a moment’s consideration, I resolved to select a name that would undoubtedly attract attention, enabling a quicker and more lucrative sale.
Frankly, presenting a mere C-rank item as my official debut piece felt rather cheap.
It was, in essence, a practice piece.
Only B-rank items, which had never been crafted before, held true branding potential.
As my current objective was simply to secure living expenses, branding was dismissed.
Without much deliberation, I quickly decided on a name and attempted the engraving.
[A new name has been engraved on 『Shortsword (C)』.]
[You have obtained 『Well-Honed Shortsword (C)』!]
“Oh… it actually worked.”
Following that, I proceeded to engrave a name onto the One-Handed Shield.
[A new name has been engraved on 『One-Handed Shield (C)』.]
[You have obtained 『Sturdy One-Handed Shield (C)』!]
I affixed the modifiers ‘Well-Honed’ and ‘Sturdy’ to them, respectively.
Typically, such modifiers appear probabilistically on equipment when a related stat’s effect significantly surpasses that of other items.
While these weren’t inherently such weapons, attaching relevant modifiers meant there should be no issues of suspicion.
Even with identical effects, an item bearing a modifier would invariably appear superior, ensuring its popularity.
After completing the name engravings, I immediately entered the Auction House and registered both pieces of equipment.
I set the seller to anonymous, the sale type to highest bid auction, and the registration period to 24 hours.
This way, I wouldn’t have to rack my brain over pricing; the items would naturally sell at the highest demand-driven price.
C-rank items, not yet mass-produced, always saw demand far outstripping supply.
Once the sales were complete, I’d receive at least hundreds of millions of won, so I decided to splurge my current 150,000 won on a single meal.
“Hmm…”
A place where I could enjoy a satisfying meal for 150,000 won, even in the morning.
Going to the Red Lotus Hotel for breakfast seemed perfect.
I briefly wondered if it was acceptable to go to such a place wearing a cheap padded jacket, but then I remembered the saying that truly wealthy people often dress modestly, so I decided to set off with confidence.
A quick search revealed that Red Lotus Hotel’s breakfast cost exactly 100,000 won per adult.
The remaining 50,000 won would be just enough for a taxi.
The subway station was a full 30-minute walk away.
It was a reverse-station area (TL Note: A location far from a subway station, typically undesirable), but it didn’t matter.
I would be rich in 24 hours, so I could just call a taxi every day.
After calling a taxi, I browsed the Gallery for about 15 minutes, and feeling like it had almost arrived, I stepped outside.
*Click*—
As I left my home, I sensed a presence and turned to find myself making eye contact with someone emerging from the next-door apartment.
“Hooray! Day 2 of the Miracle Run: Gate Raids Every Day, starting now!!!”
“…”
“Ah…”
*Slam!*—
It seemed an eccentric person lived next door.
