Chapter 1

The Gates opened.

Awakened Hunters entered them to hunt monsters.

Ordinary people were powerless.

“Dad… Dad… sob…”

“Honey… We promised our family of four would live together for a long, long time… How could you…”

Even when someone was swallowed by a newly formed Gate, it was the same.

There was nothing an ordinary person could do.

Nothing except grieve… and pity them.

“Why is he crying so heartbreakingly?”

“They say the man who got caught was the owner of Gangcheol Forge.”

“Ah… What a tragedy…”

The owner of Gangcheol Forge was famous for two things.

First, among countless blacksmiths, everyone agreed he was the very best.

People even said he had single-handedly raised Korea’s sword and knife-making standards by three or four levels.

Second…

Despite his incredible skill, he loved his family more than anything.

“What a shame. Leaving behind his wife and those young children.”

“I wonder what’ll happen to the workshop now. Things are going to be rough.”

“It’d be nice if his son inherited it, but he’s still too young. Maybe selling it to a big company would be the better choice.”

Cruel words always seemed to reach the ears the clearest.

Standing before his mother, who had lost her husband, and his younger sister, who had lost their father…

The boy couldn’t bring himself to cry with them.

Instead…

“I’ll do it. I’ll do my best.”

“Gangcheol…”

“Father built this forge with his own name. Now I’ll build it with mine. I’ll protect Mom and Ayeon too. I can do it.”

At twenty years old, Kang Cheol became the owner of Gangcheol Forge.

The day after the funeral ended, he went straight back to work.

The scent of incense from his mourning clothes hadn’t even faded before he changed into work clothes and began catching up on overdue orders.

A few days later, he completed his first commission as the new owner.

And then…

“You think I paid for this piece of garbage? Refund me right now! Are you listening?!”

Cheol shut his eyes tightly as a customer with particularly gloomy eyes screamed at him.

On the way home, he grabbed the first bottle of alcohol he saw at a convenience store and drank until he couldn’t anymore.

He had never learned how to drink.

He spent the entire night vomiting.

He comforted himself by saying mistakes were part of the learning process.

Several more weeks passed.

Then three employees came to see him together.

They were the very people who had once said they’d do any kind of work if it meant learning blacksmithing from his father.

“Boss… We’ll only be working until the end of this month.”

“What? If you all leave now, who’s going to finish the orders?”

“That’s something you need to figure out.”

Only a few weeks before the accident, his father had finally taught them a newly developed surface-finishing technique.

The workshop’s staff shrank from ten people to seven.

Time passed again.

“I’m quitting because there’s not enough work.”

“The workshop just isn’t the same now that the son took over. At least lower the remaining payment.”

Sales dropped.

Employees left.

Losses piled up.

“Due to personal reasons…”

“I’d like to cancel my reservation…”

Things never improved.

And just like that…

Three years passed.

* * *

“I’m telling you, this really isn’t fair!”

Despite Cheol’s protest, the customer shoved the knife even closer.

A long crack ran straight down the unfinished knife blank that didn’t even have a handle attached yet.

“Explain this. Hurry!”

“It… cracked.”

“And you’re saying you’re the victim?”

“I really am!”

“You made it yourself!”

He could see it clearly.

His eyesight was still excellent.

It was true that he’d made it himself.

After all, there wasn’t a single employee left at Gangcheol Forge besides him.

“Please hear me out. The steel was supplied by you. The blueprint was yours. You even specified the heat-treatment process yourself.”

“So because your skills are bad and your equipment is outdated, now you’re blaming the steel?”

Cheol couldn’t think of a single mistake he’d made.

He hadn’t rushed the work either.

Even if he had…

A defect this large simply couldn’t occur during the knife blank stage under normal manufacturing procedures.

That obvious crack was extremely unusual.

“How could I possibly know the steel had an internal defect before working on it? You keep blaming my equipment, but in the last three years this is the first time steel has ever cracked like this!”

“I don’t need to know any of that. You said there was no reason the job couldn’t be done.”

The endless argument finally came to an end with one sentence.

“No wonder your business is going bankrupt.”

The corner of Cheol’s eye twitched.

“You remember these were both rush orders, right? If you can’t finish them, there’s a penalty. Want to read the contract again?”

Hunters’ weapons often broke inside dungeons.

When they urgently needed replacements…

Yet still refused to compromise on quality for something they trusted with their lives…

They paid a hefty premium and included special contract clauses covering quality and delivery deadlines.

Those were called rush orders.

If only I weren’t so desperate for money…

On the surface, it looked like a great deal for both sides.

But if anything unexpected happened…

There was almost no room to deal with it.

How much was the penalty again…?

Ten times the price?

Twelve?

It was a huge amount.

Oddly, he couldn’t remember the exact number.

All he clearly remembered was that it equaled about three months of living expenses…

Or four if they lived frugally.

Trying to remain calm, Cheol shook his head.

“I honestly don’t believe I made any mistake. Even another workshop would’ve run into the same problem. Still, out of good faith, if you bring new steel, I’ll make them again free of charge.”

He offered a compromise.

The customer didn’t budge.

“Do you even know how valuable that steel was? It was CPM steel. I somehow got my hands on two sheets of it, and now you’re telling me to find more?”

…

Cheol’s expression darkened instantly.

The customer had brought a type of steel so rare that even Cheol’s father had only seen it a handful of times.

The CPM series.

Knife steel produced by the American company Crucible using powder metallurgy.

Not only that…

It was an original product from the company before it went bankrupt.

Even before the Gates appeared, supplies had been limited.

Now, simply finding any still in existence was practically a miracle.

Of course…

That didn’t mean Cheol had to accept the blame.

Rare or not, damn it… if it’s not my fault, what am I supposed to do?

“I don’t intend to go easy on you. I accepted this job from someone else, so I can’t make exceptions because of your circumstances. If the person who commissioned me fails their dungeon raid and blames you… this won’t end with just paying a penalty.”

“So… money won’t solve it?”

“They might ask for your life instead.”

Cheol’s expression became strangely complicated.

If I don’t have to pay money… maybe that’s actually better?

If it couldn’t be settled with money anyway…

Maybe he could explain things and make up for it some other way.

They’re not actually going to kill me… right?

After dealing with unreasonable customers for years, he’d heard threats like that countless times.

His optimistic survival instinct was interrupted by the customer’s voice.

“Today’s just an inspection. You’ve still got three days left. Forget both knives. Just finish one somehow.”

And what if it cracks again?

Thinking Cheol had simply become frightened, the customer softened his tone slightly.

But contrary to what he believed…

Cheol was enduring with all his might.

More accurately…

He was forcing himself to stay silent.

How many customers had confidently lectured him using completely incorrect knowledge?

If he stayed patient…

The conversation usually became smoother afterward.

That’s what he believed.

But then…

“You’ve got plenty of steel, don’t you? I brought about three kilograms. Shouldn’t that be enough for six knives?”

No…

“Blacksmiths heat metal and hammer it all the time, right? Can’t you just hammer the crack closed?”

No…

It was becoming harder than expected to stay quiet.

Cheol clenched his fist, desperately resisting the urge to argue.

“That’s called forging, isn’t it? Anyway, they say iron gets stronger the more you hammer it.”

…

“If your skills aren’t good enough, just hit it harder.”

“…Ha.”

Believing nonsense because you didn’t know how the work was done…

Fine.

That’s why people paid professionals.

But if you didn’t know…

Couldn’t you at least keep your mouth shut?

On top of that…

This man was insulting someone who had actually worked hard.

Cheol’s face turned bright red.

Anyone could see he was furious.

Yet the customer, intoxicated by his own “advice,” even pretended to swing an imaginary hammer while continuing his lecture.

“Well, think of it as tempering both the knife and yourself. Hammer it day and night until the steel becomes pure… huh?”

Finally…

“I’ve been trying to stay polite, but you’re talking complete bullshit.”

Cheol ripped off his safety helmet and work clothes, throwing them onto the floor.

The customer frowned.

“Sir… have you ever made more knives than I have?”

“What?”

“Do you think there’s no reason we don’t forge everything? Ever heard of decarburization? If you overheat and hammer steel carelessly, carbon burns off, lowering the hardness. Then people complain the blade gets dull too quickly. And you want me to forge a cracked section shut? If a forge lap forms inside a gap you can’t even reach, it’ll crack even more easily. Want your knife snapping in half inside a dungeon and getting yourself killed?”

“Wait…”

Years of frustration exploded out of him like a machine gun.

“Let’s say we somehow solve all that. What if residual stress forms from forging? Unless I spend time stress-relieving the steel afterward, it’ll just create a bunch of weak points. This is a rush order, isn’t it? There’s no time for stress relief. And after forging I’d still have to grind everything flat again anyway. So tell me… why would I forge it in the first place?”

…

“Do you know how precisely steel plates are manufactured? Do you think famous steel companies build massive blast furnaces because they’re idiots? They spend all that money to reduce human error and improve quality control! Companies don’t waste money for no reason! People like you keep making ridiculous complaints, and… ah.”

Only then did Cheol stop.

This was exactly the situation where he had promised himself to stay patient.

Even if the customer was completely wrong…

Correcting them almost never improved the position of the person providing the service.

“Must feel nice knowing so much, huh, boss?”

“S-Sir, that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m Park Youngjun from the Yeonhwa Guild. And some nobody blacksmith dares to lecture me? At least prove yourself before acting smart! You ruin a knife like this and then ask me if I’ve made more knives than you?”

“I’m just saying it wasn’t my fault…”

“Shut up!”

The sharp shout made Cheol scratch the back of his head awkwardly.

The customer stormed toward the door.

“Let’s leave it here for now. Since you’re so confident, take responsibility. Deliver one knife first and make the other later. Or pay the penalty for one of them. And if there’s really no other way…”

He pointed at the sign hanging beside the entrance.

The sign that read:

Gangcheol Forge.

“Sell your forge, pay the penalty, and get on your knees.”

BANG!

The customer slammed the door behind him and left.

Cheol stared silently at the closed door.

Then…

He slowly raised both hands and extended his middle fingers.

“Why don’t you actually listen when someone who knows what they’re talking about explains things, you bastard.”

He never would’ve imagined doing something like that in the past.

Back then…

Customers trusted that whatever Gangcheol Forge said was correct.

Even the occasional difficult customer usually backed down as soon as they were told their orders would never be accepted again.

“So… what’s different now?”

It had been three years since Cheol became the owner.

Three years spent believing things would eventually get better.

Yet the gap between him and his father remained.

Now…

He wasn’t even sure the forge could survive much longer.

“Thinking alone won’t solve anything.”

* * *

When Cheol opened the office door, the smell of old books filled the room.

This was the place he always came whenever the future felt hopeless.

His father’s work journals.

Everything was recorded there.

From basic techniques anyone could learn…

To subtle details like how temperature and humidity affected the work.

Thirty years of knowledge accumulated by a legendary blacksmith completely filled one wall of the office.

“Hmmm…”

He had read them dozens of times.

By now…

He could almost remember the contents just by looking at each cover.

“This one’s about longswords… this one’s knives… and this one…”

Then…

Among the shelves he had checked hundreds of times…

He noticed a booklet he’d never seen before.

Huh?

The first thing he felt was that it seemed out of place.

Unlike the others…

It had no labels.

And while every other journal showed the wear of time…

This one looked brand new.

He opened it.

The pages were packed with frantic sketches and densely written notes.

Completely different from his father’s neat work journals.

Those journals had been carefully organized.

This notebook looked more like someone desperately searching for an answer.

Grinding.

Drilling.

Stacking and joining materials.

Bending.

Carving.

He couldn’t understand what was being made…

Or why.

But soon…

He realized what the notebook was about.

“This is… something Father was trying to make.”

There had been only one thing his father, who could seemingly make anything, always admitted was incredibly difficult.

For a moment…

Memories of his father came flooding back.

But that was all.

Nothing inside could help with his current situation.

“This won’t solve today’s problem.”

He returned the notebook to its place and scratched his head.

He searched the shelves several more times, hoping to discover something else.

There was nothing.

“Hey, ancestors… if any of you are sitting on my shoulders, could you please plant a brilliant idea in my head? Have some pity on your poor descendant who’s working himself to death. Would it really kill you to help?”

Perhaps because he’d discovered the strange notebook…

He muttered the prayer half-heartedly.

Still…

His only realistic option was to somehow finish at least one knife and minimize the penalty.

The office lights went out.

Just like his fading hope.

But Cheol never noticed.

Behind his back…

The work journal he had been reading began to glow like the flames inside a heat-treatment furnace…

Before disappearing.

It wasn’t long before a notification window appeared before his eyes.

[You have awakened.]