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Chapter 69
The Blacksmith.
Whatever it might have been called in the past, by now it was the word used for a hunter who could craft items.
A profession ordinary people could never have. It was common sense that hunters were needed to make hunters’ weapons.
Fundamentally, they were still artisans who made armor and tools.
Han Cheol-woo had spent a long time in the artisan industry. He knew better than anyone how difficult it was to make a prosthetic arm.
It wasn’t something you just knocked together—it’s machinery, after all. Even now he fiddled with his phone and muttered, “Ugh, why do these things have to be made so complicated these days…”
But what?
It took one second to make such a delicate prosthetic?
Had he heard wrong?
“…Did you say one year?” he asked.
“No…? Like one second… no, like ten seconds…?”
Han Ye-yeon answered with a blank look and an equally blank tone.
Whether he believed her or not, it was clear he wasn’t her superior and she didn’t owe him anything.
She didn’t show the typical signs of someone lying.
A nervous chuckle escaped Han Cheol-woo.
“…One second? Maybe my ears are wrong, should I go to the hospital?”
He picked at his ear with his little finger and asked again.
“I’m asking seriously. Exactly how many seconds did it take?”
“I’m serious too…”
“…. ”
Han Ye-yeon didn’t try to convince him or make him trust her.
Her attitude was completely different from before.
‘She’s changed,’ Han Cheol-woo thought.
The bartender, the Master’s proxy, looked surprised.
How had she been before?
Han Ye-yeon had always been timid and unused to talking with people. Being one-armed meant she had been set apart from others, but her shy disposition had played a role as well.
Still, she used to start conversations however she could to get a good prosthetic.
Especially with blacksmiths—those who, under the name of “items,” could bend the laws of physics and nature. If they could be persuaded to give even slightly better prosthetics, she was willing to converse eagerly.
But now—
“…Explain more clearly.”
“…If you’re not going to fix the prosthetic, give it back…”
“….”
She sounded indifferent, as if she didn’t care.
‘Is this all because of the Master’s new contact?’ the bartender thought, quietly wiping a glass.
Whether you called it a “client” was questionable. Regardless of the bartender’s own power, the other party’s ability was lacking.
A D-rank hunter, Han Yoo-jin.
His oddities were being an enhancer and a Re-Awakened. Normally he wouldn’t even have been able to sign a freelance contract.
A Re-Awakened like Baek A-rin is valuable only if they’re high-ranked; otherwise not much. Hmm, interesting. Just that.
But Han Yoo-jin was different. He proved his worth and demonstrated it.
‘They said he works miracles with just enhancements… is this what they meant?’
The Master hadn’t revealed all the information to the bartender—partly because the bartender lacked the necessary power and partly because revealing more would endanger them once others knew.
If a top-tier hunter stormed in to fight, the bartender would be the one to die. Even using the traps installed inside, they wouldn’t hold long. Outside would be even worse. More knowledge equals more danger.
But the Master’s proxy was clever, and he picked up on things quickly.
Han Ye-yeon had come on this raid with Han Yoo-jin; something had happened between the two of them.
‘Otherwise she wouldn’t treat Han Cheol-woo like that,’ the bartender thought.
Han Cheol-woo was a master—a grandmaster blacksmith, a name that drew attention even abroad. People clamored to hire him. He had made deals with the black market to make various items and be given freedom, but he had also promised to refuse any work tied to globally reviled things or villains.
Even accepting that, Han Cheol-woo’s value was considered high.
“…Ahem. This is displeasing.”
“Why? I’m telling the truth.”
“Is this really everything? Just raise your hand and it’s done? Even if hunters use skills, do you think that makes sense?”
“But it’s true…”
“…. ”
‘He scratches like a pro,’ the bartender admired, while Han Cheol-woo stopped the conversation.
He had a feeling nothing productive would come from this.
“…Fine. One month. Let’s say one month.”
“No, I said one second…”
Ignoring Han Ye-yeon, Han Cheol-woo examined the prosthetic more carefully.
‘Now that I look… there are strange things about it.’
Not flaws exactly, but genuinely odd.
‘This wasn’t the function originally,’ he thought.
It felt as though some force had forcibly boosted its performance.
There were clumsy or lacking parts that suggested it hadn’t been made that way from the start.
Maybe limits in output or connection?
As perfect prosthetics don’t exist, compromises and downgrades happen due to budget and other constraints—but this looked like signs of being forcibly elevated.
He’d seen something like this before. Probably—
“Enhancement?”
“Hmm…? Ah, right. It took one second to enhance.”
“…. ”
Han Cheol-woo fell silent for a moment.
This was more shocking than anything else.
Not crafted, but enhanced?
He knew about enhancers.
Inefficiency. That summed them up.
Enhancements took a long time and at best delivered a 10% improvement. S-rank hunters with money might use them, but demand was almost nonexistent outside of that.
Yet someone skilled enough to enhance like this still existed? And at speed?
“…Another drink.”
“Here you go.”
The bartender set down a cocktail of soju and beer mixed at the right ratio.
Downing it in one gulp, Han Cheol-woo wiped his mouth and said, “What kind of monster did you drag in?”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t really know.”
“Hmph. If you don’t know, who will?”
—Who would know but me.
A metallic clicking sound.
Han Cheol-woo turned his head.
A scrap-metal doll now stood beside the bartender.
—Nice to meet you. Am I a bit late?
The voice came through with just enough clarity for Han Cheol-woo to scoff.
“Are you bringing that weird mask again?”
—I paid a lot for this doll. It’s called a large artificial intelligence, as a fancy name.
“AI my foot. I don’t know such fancy words. So, why did you call me?”
Han Cheol-woo shrugged and perched on a chair, scratching his belly with a slightly flushed face like any passing man, not like a legendary artisan.
“I hope this is related to that guy,” he said.
—It could be related.
On that ambiguous response Han Cheol-woo frowned.
—First, introduce yourself. This is craftsman Han Cheol-woo. He terminated his exclusive contract with the Mir guild and decided to work with us. He’ll take on small jobs, so don’t get him too deeply involved.
“Youngster. You’re rude.” the metal voice said.
—We’re business partners now. A little teasing like this should be laughed off.
Their idea of “a little” would probably differ wildly.
If it fit his taste, he’d help even a major job as a “small chore.”
Both the Master and the proxy knew this well. They didn’t explain more and Han Ye-yeon showed little interest.
—We called you because there will be a “Rattlesnake” hunt soon.
“Rattlesnake? The trap dungeon that swallowed those four parties?” Han Cheol-woo asked.
—Yes. We should have gotten it first, but the Association beat us to it. More victims piled up. Compensation increased. We’ll go in under the name of the Belkin guild.
“Belkin? Where’s that from?”
—An English guild. We bought it cheap. They went to Taiwan and were wiped out.
“Tsk. That abyss.”
—Yes. We pretend we survived the abyss.
The “abyss,” meaning the dungeon-break area where people could no longer live.
“So what do you want me to do?”
—Check Han Ye-yeon’s prosthetic. She’s our valuable archer.
“I already looked at it earlier. That’s what I do.”
“…From that brief look?”
“A blacksmith isn’t just someone who makes things well. You must know what this item is and how far it can grow.”
Han Cheol-woo answered indifferently. The bartender handed over a cigar naturally and he lit it.
“‘That’ prosthetic is already at its limit. It can’t get any better.”
“If so—”
“It means a better prosthetic can be expected to perform better. Especially with that unique enhancement ability.”
Han Ye-yeon brightened.
Her prosthetic, which she had taken in for repairs, was finally on its way back.
“If we can tune it, we should. Fix the flaws the enhancement can’t cover, and bring up the rest.”
“Ooo… an expert…”
“Of course I’m an expert. Is there anyone better than me? So where is that guy?”
At that question, Han Ye-yeon hesitated for a moment. She recovered quickly, showing no sign.
“He… went home.”
—That guy shouldn’t have a home.
“Who doesn’t have a home these days?”
—You lack sensitivity. Be careful what you say aloud.
The two bickered like an old couple.
Han Ye-yeon wiped the cold sweat she didn’t even realize she’d shed.
‘…I shouldn’t say it,’ she thought.
Han Yoo-jin.
That he, of all people, had gone to meet a villain considered particularly vicious even within the black market—she dared not say that.
[Level up.]
[Level up.]
[Level up.]
[6 spare points awarded.]
The dungeon where they killed the goblin.
Yoo-jin didn’t kill the boss immediately but lingered. Even the remaining monsters were drained of strength; he got the last hits and gained experience.
‘Level 3. Not bad.’
He could put points into stats immediately.
If he put them all in, his mana would pass the C-rank threshold.
But Yoo-jin didn’t decide right away.
‘Not yet.’
He had somewhere else to use them. It wouldn’t be far off.
Usually saving points made them useless later, but this time it would be like a tonic, not waste.
“…Are they here?”
Yoo-jin stretched his stiff body.
In the distance, a shadow was walking across the desolate desert.
A white coat fluttered oddly.
Whoooosh—
“They use expensive stuff,” Yoo-jin said indifferently.
“Wouldn’t you get that white coat dirty out here?” he added.
“You… what—are you?” the man in the white coat tilted his head.
Drool at the corners of his mouth, unfocused eyes—yet a tremendous presence came from his body.
Yoo-jin nodded.
“White coat-wearing junkie… that’s you.”
“The, the goblin—?”
“First time seeing us, right?”
Yoo-jin offered a casual greeting.
“You killed someone who did business with you. Mind giving me a moment to talk?”
