In a private parlor deep within the Mero Company's headquarters, the air was unnervingly cool.
It smelled of expensive lavender and pressed parchment—a sharp, sterilized contrast to the sulfurous tang and humid sweat that defined Khan's smithy.
Rabbit sat behind a desk of polished mahogany, his fingers steepled. Across from him sat a young woman whose appearance was as unassuming as it was meticulously crafted.
She went by many names in the dark corners of the Eternal Kingdom, but today, she was Erina.
To the general public, she was the brilliant young artisan who had recently shocked the Northern territories by winning a prestigious regional blacksmithing competition.
Euphemina looked the part: steady hands, a focused gaze, and a soot-dusted apron that suggested hard labor. But behind the digital interface, she was Euphemina—the first player in Satisfy to obtain the Epic-rated Hidden Class: [Duplicator].
Rabbit adjusted his spectacles, his analytical eyes tracking the subtle movements of his guest. He didn't care for her history; he only cared for her utility.
"I do not concern myself with your methods," Rabbit began, his voice dropping into the cold register of a man discussing a foreclosure. "I only care for the bottom line. The Mero Company requires a victory in the town square in six days. It must be a public, undeniable victory that shatters the morale of the resistance. Can you provide that?"
Euphemina leaned back, her expression a mask of professional neutrality. As a Duplicator, her life was a rotating gallery of stolen identities and borrowed greatness.
Euphemina had once copied the peak skills of an Advanced NPC Blacksmith to craft an Epic-rated item, effectively creating the "Erina" persona out of thin air. To her, this wasn't a duel of souls; it was just another stage, and Rabbit was just another of her contractor.
Suddenly, the familiar blue light of a system window flared in her vision, invisible to the NPC before her.
[The quest 'Item Production Game with the Mero Company!' has been created.]
Difficulty: Unknown.
Description: The Mero Company has approached you to win an item-making game in Winston. Your opponent is the successor of the reputable blacksmith, Khan—a variable that cannot be measured by conventional means.
Quest Clear Reward: 1,500 gold. Title: [Competitor].
* [Competitor]: The Fighting Spirit and Good Luck stats will be opened. The active skill [Rolling Dice] will be generated.
Euphemina's heart skipped a beat, though she didn't let a single muscle in her face twitch. 'The Good Luck stat?'
In the world of Satisfy, Good Luck was the stuff of urban legends and forum myths. It was the hidden hand that guided players toward one-in-a-million hidden quests, increased the drop rates of legendary materials, and ensured that "random" encounters turned into "fateful" ones.
For a Duplicator, whose entire class relied on finding and copying the rarest, most powerful skills in existence, a permanent boost to Luck was more valuable than ten thousand gold pieces.
"The successor of Khan," Euphemina mused aloud, her voice light. "You called him a variable. Is he a master? A hidden prodigy from the village?"
"He is... unconventional," Rabbit replied, a brief flash of annoyance crossing his face as he thought of the armored youth who had been screaming about resentment in the smithy.
"He lacks the refinement of a trained artisan, yet he possesses a strange, volatile potential. More importantly, he is currently being guarded by individuals who concern me—men and women who do not fit the profile of simple village smithy."
Euphemina smiled. It was the smile of a mathematician who had just found the missing integer. "Variables are easily solved when you have the right formula. I accept the commission. I will ensure the Mero Company owns that smithy by sundown on the day of competition."
"However," Euphemina added, her eyes sharpening like a whetted blade. "If I am to win this for you, I require a specific material. My technique requires a catalyst for the hardening process that cannot be found within the borders of the Eternal Kingdom."
"Name it," Rabbit said, his quill already poised over a fresh ledger.
"Raging Deer's Antler. A fragment will be suffice as I'll use it in hilt of the item to boost my chances of higher tier item."
Rabbit paused, the quill hovering. Even for a man of his vast resources, the request was significant. The Raging Deer was a high-level monster variant found almost exclusively in the jagged, high-altitude forests of the Saharan Empire.
To acquire it and transport it to Winston in six days would require an astronomical expenditure of gold—utilizing high-speed carriage relays, black-market contacts, and perhaps a few bribes to frontier guards.
"This material... is it truly necessary for a victory over a village successor?" Rabbit asked, his mind already tallying the overhead.
"If you want a weapon that can suppress an 'unknown' variable, yes," Euphemina replied coolly.
Euphemina's plan was a masterpiece of efficiency: she would use her [Duplicator] ability to copy the skills of the competing smith during the actual duel, then use the sheer, overwhelming quality of the rare high grade materials to bridge any gap and boost the probability of higher grade item. It was a strategy of "Superior materials."
Rabbit didn't hesitate. The future of the Mero Company, the physical ownership of Khan's land, and his own meticulously curated career were balanced on the edge of this anvil. He had already neutralized the Orator in the dungeon; he could not afford to lose in the center of the town square.
"The Mero Company will secure it," Rabbit declared, his signature scratching across the ledger with a finality that sounded like a hammer blow. "By the morning of the duel, the antler will be on your workbench. Do not fail me, Miss Erina."
As Euphemina left the parlor, her mind was already calculating the win-state. She didn't know that the "successor" she was facing was a man currently sitting on a pile of coal, eating an old moldy rye bread and crying over his perceived lack of talent.
Euphemina didn't know that the "Variable" was Grid—a man who held a literal Legendary Class but was currently fueled entirely by salt and petty envy.
Meanwhile, back in the dim, heat-heavy interior of the smithy, the air was thick with the rhythmic thud-clink of a hammer.
"Arthur," Grid grunted, his face a canvas of soot and sweat. He paused, wiping his brow with a grime-streaked forearm. "I feel it. I feel like I'm being watched. Like there's some... invisible predator out there, moving through the shadows."
Arthur, who had been leaning against the doorframe watching the sunset, turned his head. His ruby eyes caught the light of the furnace. "There is, Grid. Rabbit isn't a fool who gambles on a whim. He's a man of ledgers. He knows you're an anomaly. He won't send a normal smith against you to be embarrassed. He'll send someone who can match your madness with their own."
"Whatever they send, it doesn't matter." Grid growled, his voice dropping into that dark, jagged register that had become more frequent lately.
Grid looked across the room at his black [Sword of Malice], which seemed to pulse with a faint, violet light from its rack. "I'll make something that breaks it. I'm Pagma's Successor! I'm the one who bridges the gap with gear! If they bring a master, I'll bring a god!"
Arthur nodded, though a trace of concern flickered in his expression. "Then keep hammering, Grid. That's the only way you secure the smithy. The Mero Company is bringing out their best; you need to bring out the Legend inside you."
The countdown to the duel had reached five days.
In the depths of the castle dungeon, Huroi sat in absolute, soul-crushing silence, counting his heartbeats to keep his sanity from fracturing.
In the shadows of the Mero headquarters, Euphemina was preparing her scrolls, her mind a library of stolen techniques.
And in the sweltering heat of the forge, Grid's resentment continued to boil, turning raw iron into a weapon of pure, unadulterated spite.
The Winston Tournament was no longer a local dispute over a debt. It was becoming a collision of the most unique powers in the world—the Overgeared Blacksmith, the number one Orator class player, the Great Duplicator and the most dangerous of all, the Collector of Legends.
"I'll show them," Grid whispered, his hammer falling again. Clang. "I'll show everyone who the real 'protagonist' of this world is."
Behind him, Arthur watched the sparks fly. He knew that when these three variables finally met in the square, the resulting explosion would change the history of the Eternal Kingdom forever.