I take back what I said about having nothing to do.
"I need to make money…"
My eyes popped when I saw the outrageous price of real estate.
1.5 billion.
And I only made 15 million each time I crafted and sold a single weapon.
Should I raise my prices?
I knew the gear I crafted performed exceptionally well—that much was given.
Considering how fast that ring sold on the Auction House, raising my prices seemed doable.
But…
"I really don't want to do that, though…"
My pride wouldn't let me.
Selling my failed creations for money was already hard enough to stomach.
That was why I'd compromised by making them untradeable in the first place.
Charging even more on top of that was completely out of the question.
"Sigh…"
I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
That left only one option.
"Let's make… a hundred of them."
As long as I keep crafting, surely I'll make at least one piece I actually like. It might not rival Death Moon, but if I can taste even a fraction of the fulfillment I felt back then…
"Might as well."
I muttered, quickening my pace as I tallied the materials needed to forge a hundred items.
First and foremost… materials.
Just as I was wondering where on earth to find that much metal, a sharp clink caught my attention.
It came from a passerby's shopping bag packed with pots, paring knives, and ladles.
"…That'll do."
I followed the logo on the bag to a nearby store and headed straight to the kitchenware floor.
A quick look around, and there it was: a massive stack of the same pots.
"That's a lot…"
As if entranced, I walked over, knelt down, and picked one up.
I tapped my knuckle against the bottom of the pot.
Tink!
A crisp metallic ring resonated.
This is way better than that shitty dagger.
Though definitely lacking, the metal was still far better refined than that crude piece of scrap.
And it was certainly worth way more than what the Hunters at the Tower entrance wore—haphazard equipment slapped together without a shred of intent or crafting philosophy.
"Who made this?"
Holding the pot in one hand, I scanned its surface, but nowhere could I find an artisan's mark or signature.
"Hmm."
I liked that even better.
A true blacksmith didn't need to announce themselves, after all.
Humming a quiet tune, I began tossing pots into a shopping basket I had picked up near the entrance.
"Not bad."
Every single pot was identical in quality—the first, the second, and every one after.
How could metalwork carry so little human emotion?
It wasn't to my personal taste, but it was a mindset worthy of respect in its own right.
Quality is supposed to fluctuate based on the craftsman's mindset at the moment.
Therefore, I deduced the maker of these pots must possess a mind as clear and unwavering as a cloudless night sky.
If they polish their technique just a bit, they could make it big.
Nodding approvingly, I paid for my haul and left the store.
* * *
Danger was a constant inside the Tower.
"Whoa…"
Concealed between dark red rocks and twisted trees, a B-rank Hunter gasped as he took in the scene before him.
He wasn't admiring the gruesome landscape.
Instead, his eyes were glued to a surreal sight: a beautiful woman with a short brown bob, flicking her wrist to snap blood off her blade.
Her movement was fluid, precise, and completely devoid of wasted motion.
Her appearance matched the rumors he had heard in passing.
Daon Lee.
She was a rookie Hunter who had cleared the tutorial and reached Floor 30, known as the start of the middle floors, in less than a month.
Behind her lay dozens of monster corpses, every single one cleanly decapitated.
"How is that a D-rank? The Hunter Association has lost its mind."
"Tell me about it."
The party member standing beside him muttered in equal awe, clearly thinking the same thing.
The notorious climb between Floors 20 and 30 was brutal even for their three-man party of B-rank Hunters.
They had spent years climbing, covered in bruises and narrowly escaping death dozens of times.
And yet…
"She's at least an upper A-rank."
The girl in front of them was single-handedly tearing through the Tower and shattering every past record in her wake.
"Probably S-rank. Just look at her clear time."
"Come on… S-rank is pushing it. There are only twenty of them in the whole world."
As they carried on their heated debate, Daon finished checking her gear and moved forward once more.
"Hey, let's move too…!"
The reason they were stealthily trailing her was simple: they were hoping to scavenge her leftovers.
While most floors isolated Hunters into solo or party instances, every tenth floor featured an open field shared by anyone entering at the same time.
Clear objectives varied based on chosen difficulties and seemingly random criteria, but…
You never know.
There was always a chance they shared the exact same target.
Right now, the main objective on their party status window read:
Subdue Floor 30 Boss Monster, 'Abyssal Executioner'
By the looks of it, her objective doesn't seem to be survival.
Plus, she hadn't stopped to harvest any monster materials, raising their hopes even further.
Am I finally gonna clear Floor 30?
After slicing through another group of monsters in a single strike, Daon paused to catch her breath and pulled out her phone.
"Gah…"
What a waste of time.
Realizing he'd let out an involuntary groan, the Hunter clamped a hand over his mouth.
Fortunately, she didn't seem to hear him.
Phew…
Relieved, the Hunter looked back out.
Daon was still tapping away at her screen.
Cell service didn't reach inside the Tower, of course.
But every Hunter had access to one specific platform.
She must be checking the Auction House.
It was the Auction House app—a program that had taken Aiden Clark, the legendary American developer and S-rank Hunter known as "Architect," over a decade to integrate into the System.
Naturally, the icon sat on every Hunter's home screen.
As Daon scrolled, her eyes widened in shock.
"Huh? W-what?"
Her frantic double-take suddenly matched her actual age, contrasting sharply with the overwhelming combat prowess she had just displayed.
Scrambling to her feet, she bolted.
"Ah, crap!"
The hidden party scrambled after her.
"Huff… Huff… Why is she suddenly moving so fast?"
Their rank was supposed to be higher, which meant their physical stats should be superior too.
Yet, no matter how hard they sprinted or pushed their legs, they couldn't keep up with her speed.
"Seriously, there's no way she's just D-rank…"
As they gasped for breath, their distrust toward the Hunter Association only grew.
"Over there!"
Daon's distant silhouette grew larger ahead, partially hidden beneath the trees.
Pushing through crimson bushes that scratched their bodies and trudging through heavy mud that dragged at their feet, the Hunters finally regained a line of sight.
"Haa… haa…"
As they caught their breath, Daon came into focus, holding a blood-red curved blade.
And…
In the brief span of time they'd lost sight of her, the Abyssal Executioner had already been cleaved in two, its body crumbling into black ash.
"Ah."
At the party member's slip-up, Daon turned around.
"…Oh. Were you guys trying to take down the boss too?"
Climbers could leave the Tower by either clearing a floor's objective or through escape gates that occasionally spawned.
According to the guidebooks, the Floor 30 boss took about a week to respawn.
"No, not at all! We just happened to—"
Too embarrassed to admit they were tailgating her for a free bus ride, the Hunter tried to play it cool, but it backfired on him.
"Aha. Good luck, then!"
Watching Daon's figure fade away as she left, the party members sighed in unison.
"…Let's go find an exit gate."
No one answered.
Escaping as fast as possible was now their sole priority.
* * *
Holding her phone in one hand and clutching her thumping heart with the other, Daon sprinted down the street.
She had no idea where she was headed.
She simply ran, guided by the overwhelming vibration resonating from Death Moon.
"Hurry…!"
She had just seen strikingly familiar item names filling up the Auction House.
Unnamed Greatsword
Unnamed Axe
Unnamed Cuirass
The unmatched applied options were equally familiar.
The moment she confirmed them, a voice from her final days at the forge echoed in her ears.
「I think I'll be able to leave soon, too.」
It was a voice she had never forgotten—words she had assumed were mere empty comfort until this moment.
Lord Dan is here!
With every step, the humming vibration traveling up her palm grew stronger.
Death Moon.
The weapon that had forged her new life.
Thanks to it, she had grown strong, built a reputation, and earned a fortune.
Back at the forge, all she could do was receive.
"But here…!"
In this world, she could finally give something back.
Racing forward to the beat of her pounding pulse, Daon suddenly slowed.
"…Huh?"
The late-winter air was crisp and cold, and white clouds of breath trailed behind her with every heavy gasp.
"E-excuse me…?"
Behind the dispersing white clouds, a small figure came into view.
Pointed ears and a bushy tail sweeping across the ground.
A human.
Or rather, the body of a beastkin child.
The figure looked completely different from her memories.
Yet she knew intuitively.
She knew instinctively.
"Lord Dan…?"
That young girl was undoubtedly her savior.
"Uh, hold on a second."
It would be a lie to say Daon hadn't imagined an emotional reunion, but the response she got was an offhanded, half-hearted reply.
Hesitantly, she crept closer to Dan, who was deeply absorbed in something.
"Phew, all done!"
As the remaining fog of her breath cleared, Dan came into full view.
"Um… what are you doing…?"
Her clothes were smudged with dirt, but she wore a proud smile as she carefully buried something at the base of a tree stump.
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