The mouth of the door yawned open, revealing a tunnel barely one and a half meters high.
Bai Chen crouched and peered in.
The tunnel walls were reinforced with concentric steel rings — hammered, shaped, and fitted by hand.
A neat, stubborn line of craftsmanship that spoke of patience and skill.
"So the thief's smarter than she looks — she even knows how to shore up a shaft," Bai Chen muttered.
The three of them moved forward on half-bent legs.
Nergigante, still in her shrunken form, led the way.
The tunnel stretched on and on, vanishing into twilight.
Warm drafts blew from somewhere deep within; the air tasted of heat and metal.
In the distance, the rhythmic clink of hammer on anvil began to beat out like a pulse.
"Looks like we found her," Lillie whispered.
They crept inward.
The more they advanced, the stranger the layout became. This was not a straight mine — it was a maze: a network of branches and crossways. Every twenty meters or so, another T-junction. Without Bai Chen's Enhanced Smell, they'd be hopelessly lost.
The hammering grew louder until it felt as if the blows were landing against their ribs.
"It's hot in here."
Mallow was fanning herself with small, frantic motions — sweat pearling along her temples. Lillie was no better; both girls were visibly warm from the furnace's breath.
"We're close — roughly five hundred meters," Bai Chen said.
"I can smell her clearly now."
They finally arrived at the chamber's mouth.
The hollow dropped ten meters down. At the far end, a blazing forge glowed like a second sun. Multiple passages fed into the room, and a grated steel vent ringed the ceiling. Pipes tunneled up to the surface, carrying water and steam down to this hidden workshop.
At the anvil — hammer rising and falling — the Tinkatuff worked with the feverish focus of a craftsman lost to her trade. She struck a massive blade again and again; sparks flew like rain.
"Damn — my katana!" Bai Chen hissed, rage coiling in his gut.
He wanted to leap straight into the fray, but Mallow caught his ankle.
"Mr. Bai, calm down. There are too many exits. If you rush in, she'll bolt with the blade."
Calm. As if. The thought of his blade being reforged — reshaped in another's image — burned inside him. Yet he trusted his nose: the thief was boxed in. She couldn't escape unless she felled both him and Nergigante in an instant.
"She won't get away."
He ripped free and dove into the chamber.
"Nergigante — block the south passage."
The dragon obeyed. In moments, she expanded, plugging the southern corridor like a living barricade. Bai Chen had sniffed out that the southways all led back to the surface; sealing them was the quickest way to contain flight paths.
He stalked forward, pressing the smell into his voice.
"Thief — give me back my katana."
The Tinkatuff didn't look up. Her hammer kept falling in measured, artful strikes. She had entered the zone of absolute focus; to her, the world was the anvil and the blade. Outside intruders were only motions at the edge of hearing.
"Then don't say I didn't warn you."
Bai Chen crouched, coiling like a spring.
"Move — Quick Strike!"
He flashed forward with a burst of light-speed motion — a lightning step. But the meeting was instant and violent: a single, perfectly timed kick connected with Bai Chen's cheek and sent him flying. He slammed into the wall; the air left his lungs.
Every head in the room turned. For a second, no one moved.
Bai Chen, mouth bleeding that strange golden blood, staggered to his feet. His eyes sharpened.
"She knocked me out in one hit…?"
The Tinkatuff hadn't paused. She quenched the sword in a vat of cooling liquid — steam blossomed white and wild — then tugged the vent rope, lungs filling the chamber with air. From the quench she pulled the blade: not the old rough edge, but a serrated tooth now running along its length.
She began sharpening.
Lillie's hand hovered near Bai Chen's sleeve. Her voice was small but steady.
"Mr. Bai… she looks like she's improving your blade. Maybe wait a moment?"
Anger stalled in Bai Chen's chest. Improve his katana? Impossible — yet the blade in her hands had been altered, integrated with jagged elements that matched the spines he'd seen on Nergigante. The thief had folded his prize into her own craft.
He stepped forward to take the weapon, and his status pane flickered into view.
[Name]: Nergigante Greatsword
[Rarity]: ★★
[Element]: Dragon +10
[Sockets]: None
[Weight]: 90 kg
[Comment]: Low-grade workmanship — only a fraction of the material's potential is utilized, but significant room for improvement.
The appraisal stung with blunt honesty — yet instead of disappointment, Bai Chen grinned. The blade's weight had doubled; the spines had been welded into the steel. This was blacksmithing that belonged in a Hunter's Guild tale.
He hefted it. The weapon felt heavy — very heavy — yet even so it felt a touch light to him.
"If this were three times heavier, it'd be perfect," he muttered.
A hammer descended with impossible speed. The Tinkatuff snatched the sword back, planting a fist into his gut. Bai Chen became a comet — crashed into the stone and spat up golden blood.
"Mr. Bai!" Lillie cried.
He spat and coughed, pulled himself free of the pit, and the decision settled in his eyes like iron.
"I'll catch her. I'm going to make her mine."
Lillie's face brightened in an instant. Smart girl — she'd seen the fit between them. The Tinkatuff could provide the logistics he needed — crowd control with Tailoring-like moves: Stare, Delay, and Electromagnetic Wave. She matched Bai Chen's criteria for the second Pokémon perfectly.
Bai Chen raised his fists like a boxer.
"Alright then. Today — you don't get away."
At that instant, his system chimed, cold and mechanical.
[Hunting Quest Issued]
[Objective]: Capture or Hunt the Tinkatuff within 3 days.
[Failure]: Tinkatuff escapes.
[Reward]: Living Forge ×1
The system had returned. A quest blinked into being, stamped with the promise of an item whose name felt alive: Living Forge.
Bai Chen's jaw set.
Outside, the Tinkatuff whistled a bright, bell-like note as she finished stropping the blade. Sparks flew, and the anvil sang a metallic hymn. The chamber smelled of steam and iron and sweat — and the hunt had officially begun.
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