CHAPTER 64: 64. GEARED UP!

Grabbing a glowing-hot iron bar from the forge with a pair of tongs, Lilian slammed it down onto the anvil with a grunt.

"There. Your stupid ore."

She stepped back, wiping sweat off her brow.

Sylvia didn’t even flinch. She gripped the hammer in her only hand, eyes closed, murmuring in thick Dwarvish under her breath.

"Drah’mek Varn. Nuthul Dor."

("Shape the will. Breathe the fire.")

A heavy silence followed—then she struck.

CLANG.

The first hit sent golden pixelated sparks into the air, as if the forge itself had swallowed a bit of magic. Instead of flattening, the iron cracked apart—splintering into fragments with each blow, as if surrendering to her will.

She didn’t stop. Each strike was harder and sharper. Her shoulder tensed, her chest heaving, a single bead of sweat trailing down her neck, slipping between her cleavage before sizzling against the heat-glowing mold.

Then it began: the real show.

Piece by piece, the shattered ore fragments started floating, lifting into the air like weightless embers caught in a magnetic pull. Sylvia’s eyes were still shut. She was inside the vision now.

For Dwarvish NPCs, forging didn’t start with the hammer. It started in the mind—in the will to create.

The fragments shimmered mid-air, glowing with gold light. Particles shifted, merged, bent and shaped like coding lines reacting to her thoughts. Then—

A burst of blinding light erupted.

When it faded, a completed sword dropped back to the anvil with a sharp clatter.

Sylvia opened her eyes.

She beamed. "Heh. Damn, I’m good."

The sword was sleek and deadly. Black, with a sharp silver edge and a golden backline that gleamed like it had stolen light from the forge.

Shin stood up slowly, eyes wide. "Holy shit... this thing looks sharp."

He lifted it and gave it a few test swings. It cut through air like it was butter.

Sylvia lit up. "I’m glad you like it, Master!" she said proudly, puffing her chest.

Lilian folded her arms, clearly unimpressed. "Pfft. That didn’t even look hard."

Sylvia’s eyes sparkled. "Oh really? Then you don’t mind making your own weapon, huh?"

Lilian twitched. "I... just don’t feel like it today," she muttered, looking away.

"Ha! Then keep being the assistant, hostess girl!" Sylvia smirked, striking a smug pose with her hand on her hip. "Now pass me another iron bar, would you?"

Lilian scowled but stomped off to get more metal.

They kept working. Sylvia forged Lilian a pair of metal gauntlets, perfectly fitted and reinforced for brute strength—a great match for someone who relied more on brawling than skill. Not like she had any.

Then she got to work on her own weapon: a short axe, thick at the handle with a brutal C-shaped head, heavy enough to crush bone but curved to slice. She forged a leather-scabbard for it, slung it across her back, then handed Shin a scabbard for his sword.

Now armed with a black-bladed sword, a gun strapped to his thigh, and two daggers tucked under his shirt, Shin looked and felt fully geared.

And as soon as his fingers curled around the sword’s grip—

He knew how to use it.

Swordsmanship Knowledge he had gained after his kill the other day was below 5%, but enough to make him feel like he could kill with it.

"Well... let’s go hunting, ladies," Shin grinned, sliding the sword into its sheath. "Daddy needs more coins."

"YES, MASTER!" both girls chorused.

Lilian cracked her new gauntlets together. "Time to punch something."

Together, they passed through the safety zone gate and disappeared into the open-world ruins, taking cover quickly because out here, anything could happen. Anyone could strike. Exactly what Shin wanted, but didn’t want to be caught off guard or by surprise.

And for now, he knew that someone was already watching.

**

Meanwhile...

Not far behind, hidden in a half-demolished building, the two players who’d been keeping tabs on them finally walked out.

A black guy with long locks—Sam—stood beside Bob, a scarred brute seething with rage.

Bob clenched his fists. "The way that bastard treated Britt like a damn toy... I’m so gonna rip his face off."

Sam hesitated. "I dunno, man... what if he hacks us? What if we end up as his lapdogs?"

"That won’t happen!!" Bob growled.

"Well, l got a plan," Sam said, standing up on the edge of the ruined wall. He took a deep breath, then shouted:

"HEY! EVERYONE LISTEN UP!"

A few nearby players stopped and looked. Some wandered closer, drawn by the noise.

"You all heard the rumors, right? That brat who just walked out with two NPC girls—he hacks systems. Controls people like puppets!"

Now he had attention. Whispers spread.

"We can’t let that kinda player live. I say we ambush him! Take him down before he does it to us!"

One guy shouted, "Are you insane?! What if he does hack us? Then what?!"

Sam chuckled darkly. "He can’t hack everyone at once. Not if we fight as a group!"

But that only made the crowd restless.

"Hell no!" one barked. "I don’t trust you! You might kill us for coins!"

Another growled, "What if we get attacked while we’re distracted? Or you turn on us?"

"What if a player that l think is a comrade turns on me and kill me instead of hunting the boy?"

And just like that, the crowd turned to suspicion and paranoia.

Bob cursed. "Ugh! Told you this plan was shit. People don’t even trust their own damn shadows anymore! Forget ’em. We’ll deal with the hacker boy ourselves!"

"But—"

"Fine! If you’re too scared, I’ll kill him alone!" Bob barked.

"You idiot! He’s got two girls with him, armed. it’s three on one!"

A smooth female voice interrupted.

"Then let’s make it three on three."

They spun.

"Britt?!" Bob froze. "I told you we had this!"

She stepped forward, geared for blood—tight black pants, boots, a sleeveless vest, pistols in both hands. Her eyes were locked in.

"He hacked me that l can’t hurt him... but that doesn’t make me useless. I’ll kill those NPCs. You two handle him."

Sam bit his lip. "Are you sure? What if he controls our systems?"

"Relax," she said coldly. "We’ll catch him off guard."

Bob grinned darkly. "Too late for regrets. My babies are already hunting him."

Across the street outside the safezone, insects began to swarm—flies, bees, spiders, even snakes slithering from holes, birds circling above.

Bob chuckled low.

"Let’s see who wins, the boy and his hacks—"

"—or me and my BeastMaster class."

TBC