1.

Daggers were perfect for the high-mobility, chaotic battles he favored. Dual-wielding, a style that substituted defense with pure offense, was something Kim Buja had often used in games, operating under the principle of dodging every single attack. It was a choice often born of necessity in the early game, when one had to make do with subpar gear.

In that sense, the daggers had been invaluable when he first awakened as a player. Gold Maker was a growth-type class with no inherent combat skills. To survive, he'd had to run, roll, and scramble for his life, and daggers were the optimal tool for that frantic dance. They were the perfect first transformation for the Gold Ring.

"This damn class. I even have to buy my skills with money."

In terms of raw stats, he'd already accumulated enough points to rival level 10s and 20s, yet his fundamental fighting style hadn't changed. Even when he finally reached those levels, nothing would change unless he invested gold. Not that he was complaining. In 1-star dungeons, at least, even Legendary monsters couldn't withstand his simple, skill-less assault. The time would come when he'd need to purchase combat skills for higher-level dungeons, but that day was not today.

Pshnk!

"Kieeee!" the monster shrieked.

He became a blur of motion, slashing and stabbing. The smooth, effortless feel of the blades slicing through flesh was deeply satisfying.

"So this is the power of thirty-attack-power daggers. They just cut through everything."

There didn't seem to be any feature that adjusted the weapon's attack power based on its form. That meant the moment the Beginner's Daggers became the Gold Ring, their base attack power had jumped by twenty-two points. It had nearly tripled. The dungeon's monsters stood no chance.

[Monsters killed: 22]

He went on a rampage, killing indiscriminately. He'd chosen a low-grade dungeon for this test, so there were no restrictions to slow him down. He'd even set the clear condition to a simple kill count, giving him free rein to slaughter to his heart's content.

[☆ condition has been met.]

[The dungeon will now be cleared.]

He was in a trance. The new weapon had sent him into a frenzy, and he only snapped out of it when there were no more monsters left to kill.

* * *

—Whoa.

—Is that it? The Legendary item?

—Has to be a weapon, right? Same daggers, but the colors are different.

—They're just melting. Everything's melting.

This was Part 2 of the unboxing video. The viewers who had arrived ready to curse Kim Buja for his clickbait forgot their anger and could only stare in awe. The battle—no, the slaughter—that unfolded over the unedited 4-hour and 24-minute video was like watching the blade work of a top-tier ranker from a video game.

—Is that the power of a Legendary weapon?

—What's the grade of this dungeon?

—I heard it's Unique.

—Holy crap. He's testing a new weapon in a Unique dungeon?

—Well, a Unique dungeon is probably a cakewalk for Kim Buja.

This wasn't some slaughter in a Normal dungeon, either. It was easy to forget just how dominant Kim Buja had been, but the number of 1-star parties capable of clearing a Unique dungeon could be counted on one hand. In a place where you fought for your life, every single penalty that was stacked against you was one step closer to death.

The viewers' anger evaporated. In its place, a new hope blossomed.

—Will this make it easier for him to take on a Legendary dungeon?

—Won't it be harder without the event buff? Still, one new weapon versus a few penalties is a different ball game.

They hoped, they analyzed, they debated. It was their favorite pastime.

—So what kind of options does it have?

—They usually come with options that fit the user's class.

—Doesn't Buja use daggers and a bow?

—Seeing him use daggers, they seem to be his main. The bow was probably just to show he had the skill, right?

—Doesn't look like it has any special options.

Of course, their speculation yielded nothing. Unless a player shared their hologram, it was nearly impossible to know an item's options. It was especially futile for passive boosts to skill effects, damage, or stats that had no visible activation. Unless someone was deliberately showing off, it was a fool's errand.

But they debated anyway, because every once in a while, they got lucky.

They just never imagined that luck would strike right here, right now.

—Huh? What? Is he going into another dungeon?

—I thought he was done testing his weapon.

They watched as Kim Buja, fresh off a four-hour clear of a Unique dungeon, immediately entered another gate.

—I was wondering why the video was less than halfway done. So this was why.

—Freaking insane. Is the real show just starting?

And in that moment, they saw it. The stroke of luck.

The Legendary weapon's true, hidden option.

—What the—? The daggers just turned into a longsword.

The sight of Kim Buja wielding a longsword projected an entirely different, and far more dangerous, aura.

2.

The Kim Buja on the screen was a world away from the lighthearted man Jeong Cheol had met. He approached the Unique dungeon with deadly seriousness in his eyes and movements. Even against a single monster, he fought as if it were his first battle.

"Special? Legendary? I'm betting on Legendary," Jeong Cheol remarked.

"We agreed to keep that a secret," Seora replied coolly.

His mastery of the daggers and the longsword was completely distinct. Each movement was so perfect it was as if he had spent decades wielding that specific weapon and no other.

"A man who can handle at least three weapon types, given a corresponding Legendary class..."

The longsword brought the memory flooding back—his first encounter with Kim Buja years ago, the fluid movements as he took down the boss. The talent was one thing, but the class granted to such a talent was what was truly terrifying.

"He was an offensive-type player with a Legendary class who could wield a variety of weapons."

Cheol let his imagination run wild. How high could this man climb? The public believed the gap between Special and Legendary classes wasn't that large, that a player's innate skill could bridge it. But anyone who reached the top ranks knew that was a lie. Given the same talent, the same aptitude, and the same gear, the difference in class was absolute. It might be a minuscule percentage, but the chasm it created was plain to see in the current rankings.

Jeong Cheol never considered himself number-one material, but Fly was the first person who had ever made him feel like he'd hit a wall. Seeing other Legendary players had been the first time he'd ever thought, 'If I had that class, could I climb higher?' It was a tiny difference, but an insurmountable, inborn limit. Like grapes in a bottle, a prize desired all the more because it was forever out of reach.

But now, for the first time, he felt no such envy.

"That's a class I could never handle."

Based on Seora's reactions and her stories, he had already suspected Kim Buja possessed a Legendary class. He had never imagined it would be something like this. A class with a difficulty that soared to the heavens. But what if one could master it? For Jeong Cheol, at least, it seemed like a net negative.

"It certainly seems like the perfect weapon for him, though," Seora commented.

It was a complete misunderstanding, born from the common belief that event items came with class-related options, but Seora saw no reason to correct her father. The best she could do was manage the situation by neither confirming nor denying his theories. She had already helped him confirm one of Buja's biggest secrets; she shouldn't—and didn't need to—do more. A player's true information was a secret even from family.

As the misunderstanding deepened, the video accelerated. It had already been moving at a breakneck pace, but as Buja entered the second dungeon, it became clear that everything before had just been the intro. His hunting speed ignited, fueled by a constantly shifting arsenal.

"Longsword, greatsword, bow, spear, shield... I can't even keep count," Seora murmured, captivated.

In the video, the weapon changed with a mere thought, with no cost or delay. A single second could feel like an eternity in battle, and the ability to switch weapons in a fraction of that time was a terrifying advantage.

After ten hours and ten minutes, the video, a comprehensive showcase of his new power and a testament to his resolve, finally came to an end. An end always leaves something in its wake. A lingering resonance. An empty feeling. Jeong Seora, Jeong Cheol, and every viewer watching had the same thought.

—What's next?

—He'll move on from 1-star dungeons, right?

—He's only level 2. Is that even possible?

—He must be a special case. It's obvious he's a Legendary class.

—Even if he's not, some classes have level restrictions. Anyway, I bet he moves on to 2-stars. He's done everything he can here.

The next goal. The growth and change that would soothe the lingering emptiness.

—After a performance like that, he won't be satisfied with 1-star dungeons anymore. Let's go to 2-stars, Buja!

They weren't just hoping. They were certain.

* * *

"Two-star, my ass."

Unfortunately, the public's certainty didn't reach its subject. Lying in bed for the first time in what felt like ages, enjoying the warmth that held the approaching winter wind at bay, Kim Buja scoffed as he peeled a tangerine. A 2-star dungeon? It would be fun, no doubt. New achievements would be plentiful, and collecting constellations would bring the familiar joy of growth. But Kim Buja was not that diligent.

"I'm rolling in money. Why should I?"

He had played games so relentlessly because if he didn't, he would starve. His life had been a cycle of ramen noodles, where a single day off meant both his real self and his in-game character went hungry. After his awakening, that desperate drive had briefly transformed into a volcanic passion for growth, but he had no intention of running like a tireless engine forever.

Not that the fire had gone out. His heart still burned with the desire to dethrone the top ranker every time he watched one of Fly's videos. But now was a time for rest.

"Not just anyone can waltz into a 2-star dungeon."

Level 11. For others, it was the starting line after the tutorial, a level they'd hit whether they wanted to or not. For him, that bar was impossibly high.

"And I still have the Gold Mission to do."

There was also the matter he'd temporarily set aside while focusing on the event: the very essence of the Gold Maker class, the grand design he envisioned for himself.

"And while I'm at it, I need to level up 'Wait for Free Gold'."

Plans, he mused, must always be efficient. The tart sweetness of the tangerine slid down his throat, carrying with it a deep sense of satisfaction.

* * *

* * *

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.