The Black Anvil Forge.
Returning to a familiar place, Gauss stood in front of the shop, feeling nostalgic.
The last time he came here, he was still a complete newbie—someone who had just completed his first quest.
Back then, he knew nothing about the life of an adventurer, let alone the supernatural framework of this world.
But now, he was finally on the right path.
As he stepped into the smithy, to his surprise, the person he was expecting wasn't there.
Instead, someone unfamiliar greeted him at the front.
"Welcome to the Black Anvil Forge! Looking for any weapons or gear?"
A freckled teenage boy stepped up with a polite smile.
Noticing Gauss's gear—a sword-bearing, armored adventurer's outfit—the boy immediately recognized that this wasn't just another idle window shopper.
"I'm looking for a shortsword," Gauss said after glancing around the shop.
He already owned several weapons—dagger, rapier, and the bone staff—but after some thought, he'd decided to add a shortsword to his kit.
Daggers were light and compact—great for concealment or emergencies—but for close-range, face-to-face combat, a shortsword was far more dependable.
As for why he needed a shortsword when he already had a rapier, it came down to preparation for different combat environments. In tight spaces like caves and tunnels, shortswords were simply more practical.
Plus, he happened to have some cash on hand.
Carrying extra weapons was never a bad idea. The more options you had, the better you could adapt your loadout for different fights.
Choosing a shortsword wasn't complicated—just find one that looked well-crafted.
Shortswords were a staple among adventurers, so the store had plenty in stock. All were standard-issue, nearly identical in make, so any one would do.
"Oh right—mind if I ask, where's Marlin?" Gauss asked casually as he paid.
The new clerk shot him a wary glance.
"I'm a friend of his," Gauss added. "He was working here when I last visited."
Hearing that, the freckled teen replied, "He quit last week. Went home. Said he's becoming an adventurer."
He shook his head as he spoke.
"No idea who talked him into it. Master tried to convince him to stay, but he wouldn't listen. In the end, the boss even gave him a weapon to get him started."
The boy's face was full of confusion.
Meanwhile, Gauss—who was probably the very "bad influence" in question—felt a bit awkward.
He had a pretty good idea of what had happened.
Most likely, Marlin had been influenced by their last encounter—especially when the shop owner, Gron, had appraised Gauss's life magic crystal at two gold coins. That had probably left a deep impression on Marlin.
That moment may have sparked a thought: If Gauss can do it, why can't I?
Leaving the workshop, Gauss didn't disturb Gron, who was hammering away in the forge out back.
Thinking of Marlin, he felt a little conflicted.
He wanted to say: If I didn't have the Adventurer's Manual, I probably wouldn't have become an adventurer either.
"Hope he stays safe," Gauss muttered, shaking his head.
There was nothing he could do now but wish Marlin the best—and maybe hope their paths crossed again someday.
After all, there weren't many people in this world he could call acquaintances.
From Marlin's perspective, Gauss didn't think becoming an adventurer was necessarily a better future than being a blacksmith.
A qualified blacksmith could earn more than most low-tier adventurers, with far greater stability and safety.
Sure, adventurers had higher potential income, but the risk was also much greater—and few ever made it to the upper ranks. If you just stayed at the bottom, unless you truly craved that kind of life, Gauss couldn't imagine why anyone would give up the stable life of an apprentice smith.
With those thoughts in mind, Gauss turned toward the Adventurers' Guild.
Among the common low-tier monsters near Grayrock Town, the remaining ones included kobolds, giant rats, and fishmen.
He didn't feel the need to be picky.
After all, once he completed five monster entries in his bestiary, the system would randomly extract a talent from one of the five.
With four already filled, even if he carefully selected the fifth, the chance of getting its talent was still just 1 in 5.
And even if the extracted monster ended up being the fifth one, there was no guarantee the system would give him the skill he actually wanted.
So better to let fate decide. All he needed was a fifth entry to trigger the draw.
…
"Looks like everyone's rested up," Laevin said cheerfully, eyeing the team's refreshed expressions.
Although they had returned without incident, the ghoul encounter had left a lingering shadow in everyone's hearts.
But after a few days off, the more seasoned members of the team had bounced back emotionally and mentally.
No one could predict whether the next quest would be their last. But if one still dreamed of becoming a full-fledged professional, they had to overcome fear of the unknown and move forward—always on edge, but never stopping.
The Night Owl party clearly understood that.
"I'm ready to go all out," Doyle said, clenching his fists. His eyes swept over the team.
When he looked at Gauss, he paused—then narrowed his eyes and studied him closely.
Truthfully, though he didn't want to admit it, Gauss had always been the one he paid the most attention to.
Partly out of respect for the strong, and partly because he wanted to understand the secret behind Gauss's growth.
That's why he was so sensitive to any changes in Gauss.
And today, seeing him again, Doyle couldn't shake the feeling that something about Gauss had subtly—but unmistakably—shifted.
Like some kind of inner shackle had been released.
Gauss, meanwhile, felt increasingly uneasy under Doyle's intense gaze.
From his memory, he knew this world had its fair share of... unconventional types.
And while his Charisma stat still displayed as 5, Gauss suspected it might already be creeping toward 6.
It's just that the system didn't round—so 5.1 or 5.9 would still show as 5.
This wasn't vanity talking either. He had good reason to think his appearance had improved. His natural features were decent, and after a period of proper food, rest, and physical development, he looked stronger and more composed. His presence had visibly leveled up.
Calling him "kinda handsome" wouldn't be a stretch.
"I'll just say this up front—I like women," Gauss said helplessly under Doyle's gaze.
The others looked puzzled for a moment—then followed his line of sight.
They all saw Doyle staring at Gauss, completely entranced.
Everyone's expressions shifted.
Especially Oliver the archer, who had been standing next to Doyle. At some point, he had quietly moved several steps away.
Noticing the strange looks, Doyle finally snapped out of his thoughts and glanced around in confusion.
He looked to Oliver for help.
"I—I like women too," Oliver said cautiously.
Only then did Doyle realize what everyone had been thinking. His face instantly turned red.
After the small incident, the team laughed it off and entered the guild hall together.
Laevin, walking at the front, sighed quietly.
He hadn't missed the change in Gauss either.
"He's grown stronger again, hasn't he?" Laevin thought to himself.
If things kept progressing like this, they might not be able to keep up with Gauss for long.
And in a party, when one member grows too quickly, separation becomes inevitable.
Because the stronger one will be held back, forced to slow down.
Meanwhile, the weaker ones, overly protected, will lose their drive—eventually closing the door to becoming professionals themselves.
And for aspiring professionals, that is the scariest thing of all.
If safety were all they wanted, they wouldn't have become adventurers in the first place—they would've just stayed in town.
Laevin understood clearly: a split might be coming.
But even with that awareness, he chose not to say anything.
"Same setup as usual?" he asked Gauss.
"Yeah."
"Alright, I'll take a look."