The forge hissed like a serpent as Rin poured the molten metal into the base mold, the heat kissing his skin with a sting he didn't mind. He watched the glowing liquid settle, the dull orange light casting dancing shadows across the walls. He exhaled—sharp and short.
Then something caught his eye.
A crystal.
Red.
Sharp-edged. Glowing faintly from within like it was breathing.
It wasn't lying with the scrap metal—it was carefully placed, elevated, almost sacred.
Something in his mind ticked. A twitch in his instinct.
He moved toward it, fingers tingling—not from heat, but something else.
That spark again.
The moment things clicked.
His hand reached halfway across the table—
"Oi!"
The voice struck like a hammer. Rin snapped upright, jolted from that almost-connection.
"These aren't for you, newbie."
The bear-man, still unwashed and ungodly huge, stomped over and shoved a massive paw of a hand across the desk, scooping up every red crystal with a grunt. "First make a real sword, then think about magical ones. These are for advanced smiths. Not someone who swings their hammer like it owes them rent."
Rin didn't speak. He just stood there, stunned.
His mouth hung open slightly, jaw slack like a puppy just told "no" after finding out what steak tastes like.
The disappointment hit his chest like a slow punch.
He blinked.
"…Wow," he muttered under his breath. "Can't even experiment."
The crystals disappeared into a locked box behind the forge.
Rin looked at the table.
Nothing glowed.
Nothing clicked.
Just metal and tedium.
Fine.
He picked up the hammer again.
---
The rest of the process was mechanical.
Heat. Shape. Cool. Hammer. Repeat.
No instinct. No creativity. Just craft.
He finished the sword. Plain, but clean. Balanced. The kind of weapon a guard would carry out of obligation, not pride.
He dropped it on the rack, then peeled off the apron with a grunt and flopped into the nearest wooden chair, back slumped, chest rising with ragged, overworked breaths.
---
He wore what the system assigned—a sleeveless coarse-fabric tunic, v-neck loose and low, exposing part of his original frame.
The game had messed with his name, his family, his tasks—
but thankfully not his body.
Muscle memory still lived in his arms. His hands bore the calluses of real-world theft, not programmed labor. He was still Max under this Rin skin—
Even if that identity was slipping, day by day.
Sweat poured down his chest, rolling over skin like silver rivulets, catching the forge-light.
His whole face was flushed—red and hot like a sunburned tomato left in the sun.
He closed his eyes and leaned back, the heat rising off him like smoke from a dying fire.
---
"What were those crystals?" he muttered, lips barely moving. "Magical weapons? I don't know a single damn thing about this world."
He stared at the rafters, at the smoke stains and old cobwebs. He felt frustrated, not just by the denied access—but by how blind he still was.
He had no map of this place. No cultural knowledge. No clue how the magic system worked.
The spy in him hated it.
The thief in him? Even more so.
---
Clink.
A subtle noise.
His screen lit up—soft blue glow fading in like moonlight.
---
System Board:
> Query Logged: Magical Crystals.
These are called Super Minerals.
Super Minerals are rare materials harvested in unique terrains and under specific environmental conditions.
When combined with enchantment energy, they may be forged into magical or supernatural items.
A scroll of images appeared:
Crystals of glowing obsidian
Faintly humming stones pulsing with color
A clear shard surrounded by flickering text like runes
One that looked like ice, but moved like smoke
---
Rin stared.
"Sounds like Minecraft."
He dropped his chin into his hand, elbow on the desk, eyes still locked on the floating screen.
Except this wasn't a sandbox.
This was a prison dressed like a crafting simulator.
And he wasn't here to build castles—he was trying to carve a way out.
Rin wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes still fixed on the vault where those red crystals had vanished.
The disappointment? Lingering.
The curiosity? Now upgraded to burning obsession.
If he couldn't experiment by the rules…
He'd just do what he always did best.
Break them.
---
He walked casually toward the front, where Mr. Bear-Beard was seated on a stump that honestly looked like it was suffering under the weight. The man was chomping on a thick, dry loaf of bread, hunched forward like a troll guarding its next chew.
Rin plastered on his most innocent expression.
Which, admittedly, wasn't very innocent.
"Sir… uh… s–sir… honorable…"
The word "honorable" almost made him gag as it left his mouth.
Bear-Beard looked down mid-bite, crumbs raining from his mouth like cheap snowflakes.
"Eh?"
"Yes, uh," Rin said, pointing dramatically, "I saw someone running off with the shop's money stock!"
And right on cue, a man dashed across the path up ahead.
Not a thief.
Just some poor soul chasing something.
Bear-Beard stood so fast his bread flew out of his hands.
"WHAT?!"
He took off like a stampede, legs thundering down the road.
---
Fifteen minutes later…
Bear-Beard returned wheezing, red-faced, dragging the man back by the collar.
"That thief was chasin' a damn dog!" he roared, dropping him. "Just a bloody mutt that stole his bread!"
---
Meanwhile.
Rin was already halfway across the woods, a key gripped tight in his hand and a small sack of red and glowing crystals bouncing against his hip.
He was grinning like a lunatic.
Sweaty, tired, maybe half-cursed now—but free.
"Bye-bye smithy! Never again in my life!"
He shouted it like a war cry as he charged into the forest, foliage cracking under his boots, laughter bubbling out like a child who just broke into a candy shop.
Leaves whipped past his face, birds scattered, and the scent of earth and freedom filled his lungs.
And then—
---
DING!
Proximity Alert: Female Player Detected
Side Task Unlocked: Make a Female Partner
> Reward: Access to Emotional Link System + Bonus Shop Discount
Condition: Must be earned through genuine interaction. Forced interactions will result in penalty.
---
Rin skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over a root.
He blinked at the screen.
Then at the forest ahead.
Then back at the screen.
"…Oh great," he muttered. "Now I gotta flirt with a possible killer in the middle of a damn forest... while smuggling stolen magical rocks like a fantasy drug dealer."
He adjusted the crystal pouch.
Straightened his torn tunic.
"…Right. Be normal. Be charming. Be the opposite of yourself."