Chapter 10: Between Life and the Blade

“You know, Hajun.”

“Yes.”

My sister paused, seeming a bit confused.

Then, she cautiously spoke up.

“I understand why you’re an explorer, why you enter dungeons as a necromancer. But recently, I came across some information.”

“Information?”

“Yes. The ratio of new explorers entering and returning over the past two years.”

Hearing this, I caught on to what she wanted to say.

It wasn’t just any time; this was right after I’d lost my party and returned alone from fighting goblins.

“The ratio has gone up much more than before. There are more new explorers, sure, but even accounting for that, the number of people dying has increased. It’s already over 15 percent.”

So, already, that many of the new explorers had died.

So many had died.

She must have been worried.

Though I’d been an explorer for two years, it was only now that I was barely starting to act like a real one.

It was finally the level where I could step away from errands and really dive into dungeon exploration.

But in a situation where rookies were dying off like now, it’d be strange if she wasn’t concerned.

“Quit being an explorer.”

Seoha said.

“I’m not saying to stop for good. Just that it’s a bit dangerous right now… You know it, don’t you? There’s something around here, something different than before.

I’m not an explorer, so I don’t know the details… but I can at least tell it’s dangerous now.”

It seemed she wasn’t just thinking it was dangerous and to stop; she was thinking more deeply than that.

“When I told the guild leader, he said he’d help find work for you. You’re a necromancer, so there’s always other work you can find.

Take a year off, catch up on your studies. You’re good at writing, too, right? Help the guild out. Please, Hajun?”

I held off on answering.

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand.

This recent goblin nest raid.

There were events that I hadn’t seen on Dungeon Overseer.

Like when the goblin shaman and orc warrior showed up together.

Things were happening that I couldn’t cover with my game knowledge.

That’s why I’d lost my comrades.

There were things happening that my usual strategies couldn’t solve.

It’s dangerous to keep entering dungeons like this.

I’d been lucky to survive this time, but there’s no guarantee I’d be that lucky again.

But ironically, that’s exactly why I had to get back into dungeons even faster.

If things were happening that I didn’t know about, it meant my strategies were reaching an expiration date.

Pretty soon, I’d drift further away from the Dungeon Overseer’s world, facing completely unpredictable challenges.

Right now, I still had game knowledge to rely on.

There was no time to waste a whole year doing nothing.

“I’m busy, Sister.”

“Hajun.”

“I barely know any necromancy; I wouldn’t have other jobs to take anyway.

And dungeons are way faster for learning. Besides, if I work with the guild, we’d have to split the salary.

Would that be okay with you? Are you the daughter of a rich family?”

Seoha crossed her arms.

She didn’t seem too happy with my answer.

“You’re going to keep entering dungeons?”

“I have to make money.”

There’s not much money in guild work to begin with, and there’s no point in the two of us sharing it.

An explorer should keep exploring.

Feeling uncomfortable under Seoha’s disapproving stare, I couldn’t sit any longer.

I hurriedly finished my now slightly soggy noodles and stood up.

The noodles were good, though.

“Sister. Thanks for the meal.”

From behind, I could barely make out Seoha’s voice.

Ignoring it, I took a step forward.

After eating, I decided to stop by the blacksmith to see if there was a good replacement weapon for my broken sawblade.

Beyond the bustling market square, blacksmith shops lined the outskirts of the city.

True to the city of explorers, the blacksmiths were always busy crafting gear for adventurers’ orders.

The weaponsmiths and armor smiths were pounding away at the iron, their faces red with effort.

Among them was the blacksmith uncle calling out to me.

“Uncle.”

I think his name was Docheol.

He’s one of the rare blacksmiths who knows how to make serrated blades, so we’ve exchanged greetings a few times.

The citizens of the city might hate necromancers, but blacksmiths are friendly with explorers, so they don’t openly ignore or insult me.

Especially Uncle Docheol, who knows how to make necromancer gear; he has quite a few necromancer acquaintances.

“You came back yesterday?”

The news must’ve spread already.

“Ravi was here this morning. Said he found something interesting in your mission report?”

“What?”

“They gave you a nickname from upstairs. Hahaha. ‘The Necromancer Who Brings Death.’ You’ve become pretty famous, haven’t you?”

What?

The Necromancer Who Brings Death?

The reason for such a nickname was so obvious it was almost ridiculous.

It’s simple.

I just have terrible luck.

Because I end up sending all my dungeon comrades to their graves, they gave me this nickname.

So, to be exact, it’s ‘The Necromancer Who Brings Death to His Allies.’

Sounds like the title of a weird children’s movie. Damn.

This is a complete blacklist.

“They say that going into a dungeon with you means you won’t make it out alive. There are tons of unlucky people who meet accidents, but I’ve never seen someone as unlucky as you.

Is it because you’re a necromancer? Hahaha. Hey, when you get more famous, make sure to tell people you bought your weapons from my shop, alright?”

Uncle Docheol seemed to like the strange nickname attached to me; he chuckled to himself, lost in some odd thought.

Ha. Life.

But what’s so funny about this, uncle?

It’s kind of annoying.

So I shot back, “Then next time I go to a dungeon, I’ll bring your wife along. I’m sure it’ll be helpful in more ways than one.”

Uncle’s eyes widened at my jab, and then he burst out laughing.

“Hahaha! That’s a good idea! Then I’ll pack you a lunch myself and see you off.”

I meant it to be insulting.

But he’s way too happy about it.

They say people get weirder when they get married.

Guess it might be true.

Anyway.

“So, why did you call me over?”

Uncle Docheol stroked his short-trimmed beard and replied,

“There’s some new stock that came in.”

“New stock?”

Not something he made, but new stock that came in.

When something arrives at the blacksmith shop, it’s one of two things:

First, it’s of such poor quality that it can’t even be resold at the market and needs to be melted down for scrap.

Most defective products end up here and get transformed into new weapons.

But there’s no reason for Uncle Docheol to sell me junk.

Second, the item is fine, but nobody at the market wants to buy it.

The item is unique enough that it’s easier to sell it to a blacksmith at scrap value.

Some class-specific weapons fall into this category, and there’s only one kind of weapon Uncle Docheol would tell me about.

“You know about the Necromancer with Four Fingers?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“That guy died yesterday.”

I’d heard of him. By Dungeon Overseer standards, he was about level 5.

Level 5 in a 10-level max Dungeon Overseer rank means he was a mid-level explorer.

A level 5 necromancer means he was just getting strong.

But he’s dead.

The reason Uncle Docheol called me over was now clear.

“I’ll sell his belongings cheap. Take them.”

“I don’t have any money.”

Feigning indifference for now.

Playing it cool.

If it’s gear used by a level 5 necromancer, it must be high-quality.

It shouldn’t be worn or rusty.

At its regular price, a low-level necromancer like me wouldn’t even consider it.

“I’m offering it cheap.”

“Well, I mean…”

Uncle Docheol, clearly expecting my interest, looked noticeably flustered when I hesitated.

He’s a master at crafting, but not so much at bargaining.

“Do you even know what this is? That guy paid a whopping 1,000 ron to have this made.

I can guarantee you’ll never come across something like this in your life.”

“Oh, come on. It’s probably just a saw blade.”

“Isn’t it time you got a new weapon?”

He was testing me, and his bait was well-placed.

Feigning disinterest, I asked, “How much are you offering it for?”

“500 ron.”

Not bad.

Buying something originally worth 1,000 ron at half price is a deal.

But judging from his expression, I might be able to haggle a bit more.

Let’s try.

“That’s still too expensive.”

“Hey, this thing is originally worth 1,000 ron. I’m giving it to you at half price.”

“But isn’t it a little too high-end for me? You said it yourself—it’s something I’d never even get to see, it’s so valuable.

How can a saw blade be worth 500 ron?”

Uncle Docheol’s reddened face twisted into an intimidating frown.

“Stay right there.”

He strode back into the forge and soon returned with a large saw blade.

Even at a glance, it looked impressive.

He had every reason to be proud of it.

“Well? How is it?”

He handed me the saw blade, his face beaming, as if asking if I’d dare resist now.

I took the saw blade from him and drew it from its sheath.

As a low-level explorer, I couldn’t accurately judge how good it was.

Expensive usually means it’s good.

But I have the status window to confirm it.

[Steel Saw Blade]

Damage: 15 (Tear), 3 (Cut)

Usage: -6 Power

Weight: 1.8 kg

Material: Steel

Price: 1600 ron (final value)

Creator: Docheol

Classification: <Weapon> <Saw and Grip> <Two-Handed Sword> <Tear Weapon> <High-Grade> <Steel> <Scent of Death>

[A formidable weapon with jagged saw-like edges specialized for tearing. Saw blades are commonly favored by necromancers, which is not surprising considering their intended use for handling corpses.]

*This weapon is a <Saw>. It can cut through hard materials and can be handled more skillfully with high Saw and Grip proficiency.

*This weapon is a <Sword>. Greater swordsmanship allows for more skilled handling.

*This weapon is <High-Grade>.

*This weapon is made of <Steel>. It’s susceptible to acid corrosion and conducts electricity.

*This weapon was used by a <Necromancer>. It carries a <Scent of Death>.

Just as I thought.

It’s high-grade gear, way above what someone at my level could normally obtain.

Since my level is around 2 and a half, close to 3, a weapon with 15 damage is incredibly powerful.

My previous rusty saw blade only had a damage of 4.

So, the attack power is roughly quadrupled.

And that price.

The system rates the Steel Saw Blade at 1,600 ron.

But Uncle is selling it for just 500.

Without the system, I wouldn’t have known this.

It might be a little sneaky, but surviving in a roguelike game without such tricks is tough.

Now that I’ve seen the detailed information, I’m certain.

I have to buy it.

“Looks good.”

As I complimented him, Uncle Docheol’s face relaxed into a wide grin.

“Hahaha! Of course! Who do you think made it? Just hand over 500 ron, and it’s yours!”

If I had the money, I’d take it without hesitation. If only I had it.

But I don’t. I even had to cut my Goblin Nest mission short, so I don’t know how much I’ll get paid for it.

I’m not bargaining because I want to. I have no choice.

“It is good, but…”

I threw in a little bait to wiggle out.

His face darkened again.

“What’s the problem now?”

“It’s just that… I’m not sure if I’ll need it immediately.”

“What? Of course, you’ll need it!”

“But, you see… I read some data recently.”

“Data?”

He asked, looking confused.

“Yes. It was about the mortality rate for new explorers over the last two years. It’s up to 15 percent for explorers like me.”

“The guild is advising us to be more cautious… It’s really nice, but it’s still expensive…”

Uncle Docheol shuddered.

“Then how much would you take it for?”

“About 300?”

“Are you insane?”

Yup, insane.

He’s sharper than he looks.

He was completely taken aback. It’s a wonder he didn’t just collapse on the spot.

Asking for a 1,000 ron sword at 300 ron is crazy.

But it’s not a baseless number.

First, I don’t actually expect to get it for 300.

Unless he’s lost his mind, he’ll raise the price.

“450.”

See? He dropped 50 ron right there.

“350?”

“You… Are you a necromancer or a swindler? Don’t you have any shame?”

“Uncle, necromancers don’t make that much money. 350 is already killing me.”

Second, no one else will buy it.

It’s not blind confidence.

[*This weapon was used by a <Necromancer>. It carries a <Scent of Death>.]

That’s the key.

Only a necromancer would buy this, and I’m the only low-level necromancer in town.

In the end, he either sells it to me or waits indefinitely for another buyer to show up.

“Hmm…”

Uncle Docheol didn’t look like the kind of person with that kind of patience.

And sure enough, he threw in the towel.

“400 ron. Or forget it!”

He dropped 100 ron.

The last time I cleared an unclaimed graveyard, I earned exactly 400 ron.

It’s perfect.

“Alright.”

I smiled and extended my hand, and he looked like he was about to foam at the mouth.

It may be used, but I got a good weapon at a good price.

Before leaving the blacksmith’s, I bid Uncle Docheol farewell.

“I’ll be back.”

He nodded weakly, as if he’d aged a few years in the last few minutes.

The timing is awkward to return to the guild right now.

I should swing by the Explorer’s Office first.

Even though I dread it, it’s time to meet the overseer.