Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended

It didn’t take a keen eye to note that Lunarel was undeniably a hub for far more players than Wonderelle. As a starter village with its most formidable monster being the level twenty-four Needletail Kobold, it wasn’t surprising that players didn’t linger long. Add in the constant harassment from Casimir and his goons, and it made sense why most were quick to move on.

As waves of players teleported into the city and poured out from the gate, Daisuke lowered his hood, doing his best to obscure his face. His new attire might throw them off, but with his recent rise to fame, he knew it wouldn’t take much for people to recognize him.

Doing his best to steer clear of the busiest parts of the city, he discreetly made his way to the blacksmith. He wasn’t sure what dangers awaited him at the palace, nor did he fully trust the princess, so he needed to prepare as much as possible.

While the Eye of Verity was invaluable for discerning lies, and his armor would protect him if things took a turn for the worse, the recent clashes—particularly with the golems and his encounters with other players—had made one thing painfully clear: his attack power was woefully inadequate.

To that end, Daisuke was determined to entrust his rare materials only to the most skilled blacksmith. And what better way to find that talent than to assess both their working environment and the fruits of their labor.

According to a friendly passerby, Lunarel boasted five blacksmiths. While tracking them all down was no small feat—especially in a city so vast and unfamiliar—Daisuke began to appreciate the effort as he visited each forge. With every stop, he found himself gaining a deeper understanding of the level of craftsmanship that would be required for his precious materials.

From his observations, four of the smithies had their fair share of customers flooding their establishment—and while that was impressive in its own right, the Eye of Verity quickly revealed the truth beneath the surface.

[Name: Cowhen

Species: Human

Level: 3 | EXP: 47/1,406 (3.34%)

Class: Intermediate Blacksmith

Occupation: Store Owner]

[Name: Jubba

Species: Human

Level: 1 | EXP: 14/156 (0.09%)

Class: Junior Blacksmith

Occupation: Apprentice]

[Name: Ray

Species: Human

Level: 1 | EXP: 3/156 (0.02%)

Class: Beginner Blacksmith

Occupation: Assistant]

[Name: Kite

Class: Beginner Blacksmith]

[Class: Beginner Blacksmith]

[Class: Beginner Blacksmith]

[…]

Daisuke sighed. Well, the store certainly sees its fair share of customers, he thought, watching as they slaved away over several forges. The assistants work tirelessly to keep up with the demand for equipment. But, the owner spends so much time training and supervising them that his own skills have stagnated.

As a result, the gear they produce is subpar and lackluster, yet it still comes with a steep price tag. But I guess people don’t really have much of a choice since the situation is pretty much the same right across the board.

That just leaves the fifth and final one blacksmith.

***

Daisuke’s heart sank as he stood before the final store. After hours of searching the sprawling city for the best blacksmith, it had become painfully clear that he might have no choice but to settle for less. Worst-case scenario, he would have to continue using the daggers he had until he reached the next town or city, or until a monster dropped something better—though, of course, he wasn’t about to hold his breath for that.

After briefly casting a glance at the sole customer exiting the establishment, Daisuke reluctantly stepped inside. Unlike the searing heat and the rhythmic clang of hammer on anvil that greeted him at every other blacksmith—Wonderelle’s included—this place was unsettlingly cold and quiet.

The walls and mannequins stood disappointingly bare. The usual display of weapons and equipment was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the shop might be on the verge of bankruptcy—or perhaps in the middle of relocating to a more prominent spot on main street. Hopefully it was the latter.

“Hi, how can I help you today?” came the sincere voice of a young girl from behind the counter.

Before Daisuke could respond, his gaze was instinctively drawn to the sole dagger mounted on the wall behind the counter. He didn’t need the Eye of Verity to know that the weapon was crafted by a master craftsman—the spellbinding aura radiating from the blade was enough to captivate even an amateur like himself.

“…How much?” Daisuke asked in a monotone, his gaze still fixed on the weapon, studying the curious symbols etched into the center of the blade.

The girl’s polite smile awkwardly shifted, like a dilapidated boat capsizing and sinking into a river. “I’m so sorry, but that piece is purely decorative and not for sale.”

Daisuke placed his hands on the counter, leaning in with an intense gaze. “Name your price,” he insisted. “What will it take to have you part with that dagger?”

The girl’s eyes widened in alarm as she, in turn, instinctively leaned back, her hands raised in surrender. A flush spread across her face as she averted her gaze. “Um,” she stammered, visibly flustered.

“It’s as she said,” came the voice of the blacksmith, stepping forward. “The weapon isn’t for sale.”

Daisuke took a step back in a sudden daze. He felt a shock so intense, so profound, that for a moment, he couldn’t seem to find his tongue. In an instant, he clearly understood why the shop was supposedly on the brink of falling into ruin—for, instead of the typically short, muscular dwarf with a stuffy beard, strolling from the backroom with soot smearing her face was a delicate elfess.

She had an air of confidence and wisdom about her, with sharp pear green eyes that seemed to gauge every detail at a glance. Her shoulder-cropped, pistachio green hair, braided on one side, flowed gracefully, contrasting the earthy tones of her attire.

She wore a practical pair of brown shorts, fitted for mobility, and a sturdy, sleeveless overall that crossed at the back and hugged her torso with purpose. Black gloves covered her hands, clearly worn from hours of wielding hammers and tongs, while her sturdy boots were marked with signs of soot and sparks. The golden accents on her outfit hinted at a touch of elegance, blending her natural elven grace with her rugged profession.

“Y-You’re the blacksmith?” Daisuke murmured, evidently flustered.

The young girl, appearing no older than fourteen, rested a hand on one hitched hip with a defiant gleam in her eyes. “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked, her frown sharp and challenging.

Daisuke quickly shook his head in denial, still grappling from the revelation that upended the racial lore that had long since been the norm. This, he realized, had to be the root of the store’s failure: the blacksmith wasn’t a dwarf or even a man, but a beautiful elf. Naturally people were hesitant to trust her skills, but Daisuke knew better.

He understood all too well the sting of being overlooked and misunderstood. To adopt a misogynistic stance in this situation would make him no better than those who had judged him unfairly in the past.

“So?” the woman pressed, an audible groan bubbling up in her throat now.

“I really don’t see why an elf can’t be a blacksmith,” Daisuke appeased with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “More importantly, why aren’t you willing to sell me the dagger?”

The woman sighed, her eyes softening as she glanced up at the weapon. “Aside from my blacksmithing skills, that’s the only memento from my father that I have left to remind me of him.”

A muscle worked in Daisuke’s jaw as he lowered his gaze, feeling both disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to acquire the item and also ashamed that he had been so insensitive and persistent.

“If you want,” the woman continued with a wan smile. “I can always make you something better instead.”

Daisuke’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Really? You can do that?”

“Sure, just come back in a month.”

“…A month?!” Daisuke’s expression fell, his tone filled with disbelief. “Why such a long wait? It doesn’t look like you have much of a backlog.”

The assistant forced a strained smile, instinctively bracing for the storm she could feel brewing within the slender elf. As soon as her manager’s eyebrow twitched in irritation, she immediately ducked for cover. Ignoring the woman’s bloodlust, Daisuke cleverly summoned his inventory and deliberately teased her with the sight of Volturax’s tail and Raash’vir’s femur bone.

The elven blacksmith, suddenly caught in a romantic trance at the sight of the rare materials, dropped the hammer and several other items in her hands that were meant as murderous projectiles. Spellbound, she hopelessly hovered toward the attractive resources, her eyes glazed, her cheeks flushed, her lips drooping in a sultry fashion.

But—

Her fingers stilled as they neared the smooth contours of the Femur Bone, her eyes quivering as she seemingly agonized over some kind of internal conflict. Suddenly, akin to a switch being flicked, she straightened the arch in her back and wiped the drool from her mouth with a somewhat woeful expression. Before Daisuke could even begin to guess what had freed her from his insidious trap, the woman pushed him outside and stood inside the door with a lethargic expression.

“We’re closed for today,” she said drearily.

“Closed?” Daisuke echoed in disbelief. “At this hour?!”

“Like I mentioned before, if you want a commission, come back in a month. If you want to browse our current inventory, come back tomorrow.”

“Wait—”

SLAM!

Before Daisuke could protest any further, his attention was drawn to the “closed” sign swaying lazily on the wooden door. The subtle motion seemed almost like a mockery, and a flare of irritation rose within him. Yet, with a heavy sigh, it ebbed away, leaving only quiet resignation in its wake.

“Kyuu~” Zephyr whined, his head popping out from the usual hiding place.

“…It really has gotten late,” Daisuke murmured, gently stroking the pup’s head as the light of day dwindled. “But not late enough for them to be closing up shop like this! Grrr,” he growled, tousling his hair in frustration. “At this rate, it’ll be a million years before I can finally get my hands on a decent weapon!”

Dammit. It’s clear the blacksmith’s going through something, he thought as he crossed his arms over his chest. But I have a feeling she’s my best option. If I want her to put her best work into these materials, I’ll have to give her some time to work through whatever it is that’s going on.

Who knows, depending on how bad things are at the palace, I could be stuck here for a while. In the meantime, I need to find a solid replacement for the Warden’s Embrace staff to ensure Elmridge’s safety. If I’m really being targeted, it’s only a matter of time before these bastards start going after everyone connected to me.

Pushing the morbid thought aside, Daisuke raised his head, resolve burning in his eyes. “Let’s get to the guild before we lose any more sunlight.”

“Rawrwu~”