Ou Yezi.
A legendary blacksmith born in China, renowned for crafting countless famous and demonic swords.
Those who love history and mythology often compare him to Hephaestus from Greek mythology or Vulcan from Roman mythology.
Well, Hephaestus and Vulcan are essentially the same figure, but anyway.
'A craftsman, not even a great man, but a mere mortal who lived in reality, being treated as equal to a god. Where else can you find such a legacy?'
The system, recognizing this, bestowed the title of "Ou Yezi" upon blacksmiths who possessed skills comparable to his, along with the status of a ranker.
Though Ou Yezi is long dead, his name lives on as a title, passed down through generations.
It was an incredibly honorable legacy.
"Ou Yezi? That guy?"
"...He doesn't look the part at all."
"No way. A blacksmith even the Sirius family went out of their way to seek out, reduced to this wreck? That's impossible."
Of course, the wreck of a man and the ruined furnace were far from honorable.
The hammer, an extension of a blacksmith's limbs, had rusted and lost its original luster. The furnace, the lifeblood of a blacksmith, had been reduced to a mere stove for kindling.
It was hard to believe that this man had inherited the name of the legendary Ou Yezi.
The students doubted my words, and even I began to doubt them.
Was this old man really Ou Yezi?
Maybe I had come to the wrong house?
It was a reasonable suspicion, but when the old man straightened his hunched back and spoke, those doubts quickly faded.
"Who are you? Judging by your fancy faces, you don't look like loan sharks here to collect debts."
The old man's voice was as weak as a deflated balloon.
Yet, the subtle pressure in his tone was impossible to ignore.
An S-rank player, part of the top 0.1% in the player world. The kind of pressure that could reduce even them to nothing was a privilege reserved only for rankers and those above them.
In the old man, I could see their shadow.
I didn't know why he had ended up like this, but once I was certain he was Ou Yezi, I immediately spoke up.
"Ou Yezi, I've come to request your services."
"You've got the wrong person. Please leave."
"Ah, did you need a deposit? You should've said so earlier."
[A deposit of 100 million has been transferred to your account.]
A message arrived on his phone.
The old man, startled by the large sum, wiped his face but quickly regained his composure. To him, this amount was mere pocket change.
Countless guilds and families had thrown money at him to win him over.
Compared to those fortunes, 100 million was nothing.
The shock came from the fact that a young brat like me could casually make such a deposit, as if my sense of money was completely broken.
"What are you doing...?"
"Huh? Is 100 million too little? For someone of Ou Yezi's skill, I should probably double it."
[A deposit of 1 billion has been transferred to your account.]
1 billion.
An amount that's absolutely not small.
For an ordinary person, it would take a decade of hard work to earn that much. Yet, this brat in front of me casually deposited it without a second thought.
How did he even get my account information?
There were countless questions, but the old man decided to kick me out first.
Just then.
"Is this still not enough? Then I guess I have no choice."
Before the old man could frantically wave his hand in refusal.
[A deposit of 10 billion has been transferred to your account.]
The deposit was complete.
"If 1.1 billion wasn't enough, you should've said so. All I have is money."
"You crazy brat."
The old man cursed.
Instead of his dim eyes, the AI voice recognition service announced the deposited amount, and the students' expressions hardened.
Some were shocked by the amount they might never touch in their lifetime, while others were stunned by the fact that such a fortune had been deposited so casually.
"11.1 billion, how about it? Does this deposit make you feel like talking now? Still not enough? Then let's treat it as a contract fee."
"...What do you want from me?"
"I told you from the start. I came to find Ou Yezi. Naturally, it's to entrust you with a request."
"...Ha, fine. I'm Ou Yezi, you little brat. Are you satisfied now?"
"Yes."
The old man let out a deep sigh.
Seeing this, I judged that he was ready to talk and temporarily sent the students outside, saying the adults needed to talk.
The conversation we were about to have was extremely personal, and having third parties listen in wouldn't do any good.
Once only the old man and I remained in this ruin-like space, he made the first move.
"So, you said you came to me for a request? Unfortunately, my blacksmithing skills no longer live up to the title..."
"Hmm, I think you've misunderstood. I didn't come to request a weapon from you."
"...Then why did you come to me?"
"A request for collaboration."
It was an abrupt statement, but both the old man and I understood the nuance behind the word "collaboration."
We had to.
He had many things he was hiding.
And I knew them all.
"Former head blacksmith of the Ninetails guild. But two years later, you were unceremoniously discarded. On top of that, you lost your wife and daughter."
"You...!"
"You want revenge for your family, don't you? Isn't that right?"
"What do you, a fool like you, know to be spouting such nonsense...!"
"Because I'm the head of the Chunho Baekga family. I'm the financier of Ninetails. Well, at least on paper."
"...What?"
For a moment, the old man was at a loss for words.
He had suddenly lost his respectable job and beloved family one day.
And now, the leader of the very group he had desperately wanted to kill was standing right in front of him.
If he used the demonic swords or magical weapons he had prepared for a day like this, he could slit my throat right here.
Quietly, his hand reached under the chair.
A dagger he had prepared to end his own life if thugs ever came for him, sharpened to a deadly edge.
He felt the dagger's hilt at his fingertips.
Of course, I couldn't have missed that.
With a smile, I said, "Do you really want to kill me that badly?"
"What do you know to be spouting such nonsense! You, the head of that cursed family, how could you understand the pain of commoners like us! My wife and daughter were taken as hostages and killed, and I lost everything! How could you possibly understand that pain!"
Ou Yezi roared.
It wasn't the kind of roar an ordinary person could make. Only someone who had lost their family and loved ones could let out such a cry.
That was the evidence of his grief for his lost wife and child.
As someone who had never built a family, it was a kind of pain I couldn't fully understand.
But no matter the form of pain, those who had been hurt by the same enemy could understand each other in their own way.
"I understand that feeling well."
"Don't spout nonsense! How could the head of the Chunho Baek family understand my pain!"
"Because I've been hurt by them too."
"What?"
"Think about it logically. You're not that stupid, are you? If I were truly the real power behind Ninetails, would I be here alone with you? With an old man who's gripping a dagger, radiating killing intent?"
The old man, holding the dagger, suddenly fell silent.
As revenge drew near, the old man's blood boiled.
More than the vigor of his youth, the hot blood stained his vision and reason red.
But I began to skillfully dig into the old man's heart.
He wanted to swing the dagger right then and there, but he hesitated, fearing that his opponent might have suffered the same wounds as he had.
Haha, for all his killing intent, he's a kind old man.
"...How can I believe you?"
"Believe me or not, that's your choice. But are you really okay with this?"
I kept throwing questions at the old man.
Questions turned into doubts, and doubts into confusion, leaving ripples in his heart.
The old man was clearly deep in thought.
'...In this way, he's just like those gentlemen.'
Ou Yezi is a character born from my advice.
Eve wanted more realistic information and descriptions when shaping the blacksmith character, and in the process, she actively incorporated my input.
Based on this, the Ou Yezi that was born is essentially an amalgamation of all the blacksmiths I know.
So, steering him in the direction I want is as easy as eating porridge. No, even easier.
'The temperament of radiating killing intent when annoyed is just like Old Man Yang, and the surprisingly fickle nature is exactly like Shin Noya.'
It's not just that he resembles my acquaintances.
His strengths, weaknesses, even the minor habits like scratching his head with his pinky before clapping his hands are identical.
He's practically their reincarnation.
I feel sorry for the grandfather-like figures who made swords and other weapons for me.
But stimulating Ou Yezi, who is essentially their reincarnation, was a breeze.
"If you strike me with that sword, I'll die, won't I? Could these thin arms even block it? I guarantee, I'd die instantly."
But I know his personality well.
He's not the type to be satisfied with just my death.
"But here's the thing. You won't be satisfied with just killing me, will you? Right?"
As if I knew everything.
Speaking with confidence, Ou Yezi's expression wavered.
Even the killing intent surrounding me began to dissipate.
Just a little more.
One final blow would do it.
"You won't be satisfied with just me, will you? Then take revenge on everyone. On those who brought you to this state. In the way only you can."
"The way only I can...?"
"What is a blacksmith's true calling? To forge weapons and equipment, isn't it?"
"The weapons I make..."
"Yes, you're a blacksmith. Imagine it slowly. The swords you forge cutting through their limbs, the spears you craft piercing their throats."
An axe decapitating, a bullet piercing bone and flesh.
Just imagining it makes my hands tremble.
A small thrill of revenge blooms in his heart.
If just imagining it is this thrilling, how much better would it be to actually take revenge?
But Ou Yezi knows well.
That's nothing but a delusion──
"──It's not a delusion. The children you've created, their sharpness slicing through their bodies. Don't you want to see that?"
"...!"
"Let me help you."
I proposed revenge to Ou Yezi.
A thrilling revenge that would repay more than what he had suffered.
Some say revenge is meaningless, but that's just nonsense spouted by those who've never truly sought revenge.
Only when you plan revenge and actually carry it out can you experience the catharsis it brings.
Like a masseuse scratching just the right itch, I gently scratched Ou Yezi's itch.
And finally, he spoke.
"...What do I need to do?"
"What you've always done."
Heat the iron, hammer it, and forge weapons.
Weapons for me alone.
Weapons solely for revenge.
If you do that.
"Your revenge. I'll make it happen with the children you create."
An offer the revenge-blinded old man could never refuse.
Even if this offer strangled him, he had no choice but to accept. He had already imagined the success of his revenge in his mind.
A chance to turn what he had dismissed as a lifelong delusion into reality.
Even if the rope he was grasping was rotten, he didn't hesitate.
He had hesitated enough for a lifetime.
Now was the time to vow revenge.
"...."
The old man's eyes, filled with determination.
Looking down at him, I quietly swallowed a laugh.
He really is just like them.
***
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