Chapter 613: Selection Ceremony (5)

‘Anyway, even if I perfectly repair the artifact there, I can’t take the magic gun.’

Teremer’s Demise is, after all, an artifact of Machina located in the Heart-Star Vault of the Machine City. Strictly speaking, the ownership belongs to them.

Even if Lennok were to claim ownership of the magic gun by bringing up stories from WORLD 2.0, it would only sound like the ravings of a madman.

If he were to use force to acquire the magic gun right now, he would lose the means to uncover the secrets of Kaiser and the Ascension Gate.

That’s why Lennok deliberately failed the maintenance of the magic gun, content with merely revealing its true form, rather than insisting on perfectly fixing it or taking it immediately.

Other craftsmen might belatedly try to examine the item, having discovered new possibilities for the magic gun.

But once they realize that Lennok is the only one who can truly maintain that gun, they’ll inevitably have no choice but to entrust the magic gun to him again.

To anticipate and prepare for that moment, Lennok inserted the Penteract into Teremer’s Demise before leaving.

The Penteract, a gift from Myeong, had become perfectly synchronized with Lennok’s mana through repeated use.

It was an item that wouldn’t function at all if anyone other than Lennok touched it.

‘Davi, where is the Penteract now?’

[The last signal was transmitted 8 hours ago, and the signal was lost at the underwater barrier deep inside Machina’s central district.]

Davi whispered quietly, ensuring Mouser, who was heavily intoxicated, couldn’t hear.

[It’s highly likely that it’s being stored in a barrier or space that completely blocks the mana or traces of artifacts.]

…

So, there must be a space called the Heart-Star Vault inside that underwater barrier, where artifacts are stored.

Even if the signal is currently lost, it won’t be difficult to track its location once the distance closes later.

For now, it was enough that he had taken measures to make the magic gun’s location traceable.

Lennok didn’t stop there; he turned his thoughts to a faint question that had arisen from Teremer’s Demise.

‘Fist Master and Magic Gunner. Whichever it is, these two professions are undoubtedly closely related to the secrets of the Old World.’

The two professions Lennok had chosen and played in WORLD 1.0 and 2.0.

As long as he knew that they had left strong traces and memories in this third world in some way, he needed to verify it himself, no matter what.

Furthermore, among the artifacts of the Old World, which rarely exist in complete form, a top-tier piece of equipment like that was preserved relatively intact.

‘It can’t be a coincidence. There’s a possibility it was equipment used by one of those two individuals…’

From his experience at the Guido Cult’s Far Eastern Branch, Lennok knew that the Pontiff was connected to him,

but he wasn’t yet certain who the other person was.

No, perhaps it was more accurate to say that he secretly had an idea of who it might be, but hesitated to jump to conclusions.

Why they still remained in this world, or where the truth lay, he could only vaguely speculate.

He had never once doubted that this world was a living, breathing reality.

Then why did the world’s memories and history exist in the same way as the data from a game called WORLD?

What part of the game Lennok had played had brought him to this point?

In this world filled with confusion and doubt, the only trace that Lennok and a handful of others could perceive lay within the underwater barrier.

It was regrettable that he hadn’t obtained the Meister title, but if it was the price for pursuing Teremer’s Demise, he had no choice but to accept it.

Having come to that conclusion, Lennok poured the drink Mouser offered into his mouth and rose from his seat.

“I did my best with what I could do. There’s no need to cling to problems that can’t be solved for long.”

“…Heh heh, that’s right. I wonder who’s aging backward.”

Mouser flinched, his shoulders trembling slightly at Lennok’s words, then finally replied after a long silence.

Perhaps, surprisingly, the answer had resonated with him.

“So what are you going to do now? Will you continue working at the workshop?”

Mouser, his face flushed with alcohol, turned to look at Lennok heading towards the workbench.

“In any case, the Meisters practically acknowledged your modification skills directly at the Selection Ceremony, so you’ll certainly have many more customers seeking you out.”

But Lennok shook his head, wiping the dust from the workbench with a dry cloth.

“No. I plan to stop being a craftsman for a few days.”

“Eh? Why?”

“I’ve gotten a feel for the modification process by working on various pieces of equipment.”

Click-clack!!

Lennok said, pulling out the shape of a pure white revolver from his embrace and stroking it.

“Then, isn’t it about time I gave my own equipment some attention?”

…

Mouser, realizing Lennok’s meaning belatedly, shook his head, dumbfounded.

“Good heavens, so all this time, fixing other people’s equipment was merely a testing ground for your own skills?”

“‘Testing ground’ is a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Thud!!

Lennok chuckled, placing various firearms, including the revolver, a massive sniper rifle, and a heavy machine gun, onto the workbench one by one.

“Let’s just say it was part of various experiences to approach the essence of a craftsman.”

“Mages, honestly…”

Though he said that, Mouser wasn’t ignorant of what it meant to modify guns anew at this point.

The very act of maintaining a gun implied that there might be a need to use it.

Lennok was already preparing to move in a different way, distinct from his work as a craftsman.

Mouser, who had been sighing and looking at the firearms Lennok continuously pulled out with a fed-up expression, his eyes faintly gleamed when he saw the shotgun Lennok placed down.

“This is… the item I gifted you.”

A mana-charged shotgun, designed to increase its power by charging mana or to be used without needing to replace magazines.

It was a special-order item Mouser had given him as a token of gratitude for saving his life against the Pandemonium in the Blaiver Magic Tower’s Western Continent Branch.

He had given him two barrels then, but Evelyn said she didn’t need one, so Lennok had it modified into a double-barreled shotgun through Palmer, a craftsman residing in Vulcan.

“I remember the principle of the charging mechanism and its serial number. Am I right?”

“Ah, I’ve been using it usefully ever since. It truly is an excellent item, befitting a craftsman of the Machine City.”

“I see… So that’s how it was, huh?”

Mouser seemed extremely satisfied that Lennok was still using and keeping the gift he had given him.

Mouser, stroking the mana-charged shotgun here and there with a pleased expression, muttered.

“Its form has changed a bit. You modified it into a double-barrel. Is this part of what you call firearm modification?”

“Something similar. To be precise, it’s closer to refining a firearm’s capabilities to achieve peak performance even on a rapidly shifting battlefield, but…”

Lennok, expertly disassembling the revolver’s cylinder and placing the parts on the workbench, replied.

“In that process, even if it means sacrificing some efficiency, I’m modifying them to specialize in the individual strengths of each firearm.”

“Hmm, so that means you modified this mana-charged shotgun into a double-barrel as well…”

Mouser’s expression, as he fiddled with the shotgun, had subtly sobered, returning to a serious demeanor.

“Originally, mana-charged shotguns aren’t made as double-barrels. That’s because the efficiency of mana charging significantly decreases the moment the number of barrels doubles.”

…

“However, it’s also true that expanding the barrel is ultimately the answer for increasing single-shot power. Considering that, I think I understand what kind of modifications you’re aiming for…”

Mouser stroked his chin and chuckled.

“It’s interesting. You’ve handled work for your customers by combining the most efficient maintenance and modification, yet your own equipment is moving towards extreme specialization, far removed from efficiency.”

“Everyone needs different equipment depending on the situation, after all.”

Lennok smiled back, averting his gaze.

“More importantly, you seemed to have known how I run my workshop to some extent.”

“You are more intuitive and daring than any mage I know.”

Mouser replied as if it were nothing surprising.

“For such a mage to suddenly come to Machina and decide to run a workshop, wouldn’t it be a great loss in life if I didn’t watch from the sidelines?”

Perhaps it was because, as a craftsman, he had already reached a certain peak, that he regained his reason the moment he touched equipment, even though he was nearly intoxicated just moments before.

Mouser, his expression now completely sober, rotated his shoulders briskly, looked around, and grabbed a hammer hanging on the wall.

“Good.”

Thud!!

Standing before the makeshift workbench in front of the furnace, he dipped the tongs into the fire with practiced hands and said.

“Since things have come to this, I’ll help you with your modification work.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Watching you all this time, your intuition and ideas are truly excellent, but your mastery of metallurgy isn’t very high.”

Mouser nodded.

“Wouldn’t it be helpful if I just made and refined the parts you need for your modifications?”

“You’re not wrong, but…”

If Lennok entrusted the production of parts to Mouser, a skilled craftsman, instead of making them himself, it would drastically reduce the processes and working hours required for modifications.

Furthermore, it would be possible to try various attempts that couldn’t be done with existing parts, finding the optimal outcome.

However, it would mean Mouser formally getting involved in Lennok’s affairs, and essentially offloading all the menial tasks onto him.

During the modification process, whatever parts Lennok requested and entrusted for production, they would need to be checked through various processes and undergo numerous trials and errors.

Mouser, who surely must have known all this, readily offered to help Lennok.

But Mouser just guffawed and patted his belly at Lennok’s reaction.

“I feel good when I see people like you who carefully use items for a long time.”

…

“When the person using an item you’ve painstakingly created values it, that’s a different kind of joy than the satisfaction of making something.”

Sizzle!!

Mouser, picking up the shotgun with tongs heated in the forge, said.

“And as I’ve gotten older, sometimes I find myself drawn more to that kind of motivation than to simply making things.”

“Is that so?”

Although Mouser had provided Lennok with a space to use as a workshop, he had, until now, maintained a stance of observing Lennok’s work from a distance.

The reason Mouser suddenly offered to help Lennok with his firearm modification work.

Was it truly the fact that Lennok was still using the mana-charged shotgun that decisively prompted Mouser’s cooperation?

Lennok, who didn’t personally create equipment, couldn’t quite understand what kind of feeling Mouser described as satisfaction and joy.

But it seemed clear that at least that much motivation existed within Lennok’s demonstrated attitude and actions.

Clang!!

As he turned the forge, a scorching heat began to spread through the workshop, reaching to the very tips of their hair.

The moment Mouser brought his hammer down hard on the tongs, the loud clang of metal echoed through the workshop and out into the night street.

The heat and glow of the burning flames illuminated the darkened streets of the workshop district, but the people here regarded even that noise and heat as traces of passion and talent.

It was said that in Machina’s workshop district, the craftsman’s drive for improvement, which surged forth for a fleeting moment and then scattered, was cherished as their greatest treasure and asset.

Lennok didn’t know much about a craftsman’s pride or talent, but he agreed that the values they cherished held such significance.

Clang, clang!!

Lennok, rolling up his sleeves and sweating, turned to Mouser and smiled.

“We’ll start with the revolver. I’ll print out the parts blueprints and put them on the wall right away, so let’s begin.”

“You need to make the larger parts first. That way, any leftover metal can be melted down and reused as cleanly as possible.”

Mouser, taking a confident stride forward, smiled back at Lennok.

“You might have picked up a few things by watching around the workshop, but you don’t know the basics of metallurgy. I’ll teach you everything, step by step, this time.”

“It would be great if I had that kind of time, but…”

Lennok’s gaze shifted slightly, his eyes dimming.

Mouser didn’t seem to notice, but Lennok felt a clandestine gaze peering into the workshop.

It wasn’t just observation; it was a clear will-thought, revealing a definite intention to act.

“Learning metallurgy might have to be put on hold.”

It seemed the answer regarding the Selection Ceremony’s outcome had arrived sooner than expected.