Leo stepped out of the supply closet. The chemical smell of the cleaning closet was replaced by the ozone-tinged air of the training hall.
Chad stood in the middle of the room, holding two wrapped sandwiches in one hand, his other fist already shimmering with heat.
Chad"Alright, janitor-genius! Lunchtime upgrade! You watch and learn what real improvisation looks like."
Leo watched, his mind already analyzing. The mana expenditure was inefficient. Chad was wasting 40% of the thermal energy to ambient air. But that wasn't his problem. His problem was the B-rank skill now burning in his soul—a skill he couldn't use, but could potentially sell.
But how? You couldn't sell a skill from your mind. You needed a [Skill Stone] or [Grimoire]. He had neither. Unless...
He thought of the fusion process. The violent, life-draining merging of skill-data patterns in his soul. Could that energy be... exteriorized?
Chad finished "cooking" his second sandwich, the bread charred at the edges. He took a triumphant bite.
Chad"See? Total mastery. You could learn a thing or two from me, broom-boy."
Leo"Your thermal bleed-off is causing a 3-degree Celsius rise in the local environment. You are inefficiently cooking your food while passively cooking yourself."
Chad blinked, his mouth full.
Chad"What?"
Leo"You are sweating. That is wasted hydration. Your method is unsustainable."
Chad swallowed, a frown forming. "Are you... critiquing my lunch technique?"
Leo"I am observing systemic inefficiency. A proper skill-user minimizes waste."
Chad, bizarrely, looked thoughtful. "Huh. Maybe you're not just a weirdo. You got a point." He flexed his hand, the fire dying. "Gotta be tight. Control is everything. Hey, you want half? It's actually not bad."
Leo looked at the proffered, slightly-charred sandwich.
Leo"No. My caloric intake is scheduled for after my shift. Thank you."
Chad shrugged, finishing the sandwich himself. As he packed up to leave, a thought seemed to strike Leo. The fusion engine in his soul pulsed, hungry. It had created something. Could it also... export?
Chad"Later, Efficiency Officer. Don't work too hard."
The hall was empty again. Leo moved to the most isolated corner, behind a shattered concrete training pillar. He focused inward, on the new [Shadowfury Chain] pattern. It was complex, beautiful, and alien. He then focused on the Fusion engine itself, not to merge, but to reverse its flow.
He imagined compressing the skill's pattern, forcing it outwards, not into another skill, but into a physical medium. The only thing in his pocket was a smooth, worn stone he'd picked up off the street—a worthless piece of granite.
He pressed the stone against his temple, where the psychic strain of fusion was greatest. He willed the [Shadowfury Chain] data out.
[Warning: Unauthorized Data Extraction. Host Mana Insufficient. Diverting Vital Energy.]
The same cold, draining sensation as before, but sharper. It felt like a ice-cold needle was pulling a thread of his soul out through his forehead and into the rock. He gritted his teeth, his [Fragile Body] trembling violently. Spots danced in his vision.
After a minute that felt like an hour, it was done. The stone in his hand was no longer dull grey. It was now a dark, obsidian black, with faint crimson veins pulsing sluggishly within it. It was warm to the touch.
In his mind, the [Shadowfury Chain] skill was gone. Transferred.
He had created a [Skill Stone].
He slumped against the pillar, gasping, another chunk of his lifespan gone. He examined the stone. It felt... unstable. Imperfect. A bootleg copy. But it was undeniably a vessel containing a B-rank skill.
Its value? ₩130조 원 ($100 billion). On paper.
But a skill stone of unknown origin, for a skill that didn't exist in any registry? On the black market, maybe ₩13조 원 ($10 billion). Still an astronomical sum.
He needed to sell it. Now. Before it degraded or his body gave out.
He finished his shift in a haze of exhaustion and pain. At dawn, he clocked out. Boss Hank looked at his pale face.
Boss Hank"Kid, you look like death warmed over. This job might actually kill you."
Leo"It is a statistically possible outcome. Thank you for your concern."
He didn't go home. He went to the Night Market in Itaewon's underbelly. It was a place where things with no questions asked changed hands. He found a booth shrouded in holographic mist, run by a woman with data-streams for hair—a Info-Broker.
Leo"I have a commodity to liquidate."
Info-Broker"Let's see the certification."
Leo placed the dark, pulsing stone on the counter.
The broker's data-hair streamed over it, scanning. She went still.
Info-Broker"This signature... it's not in the registry. It's a B-rank... some kind of shadow-fire hybrid? This is a custom job. A Phantom Skill."
Leo"Is that a problem?"
Info-Broker"It's either the find of the century or a trap. No guild stamp. No maker's mark. Where did you get it?"
Leo"I am the janitor. I found it while cleaning."
She stared at him, at his frail form, his cheap clothes. A janitor finding a unique B-rank stone was a one-in-a-trillion lie. But the stone was real. The market didn't care about truth, only value.
Info-Broker"I can move it. But no questions means a deep discount. 90% off book value. ₩13조 원 ($10 billion). Take it or leave it."
Leo"Acceptable."
The transaction was silent, digital, and untraceable. A surge of encrypted currency flowed into a dark-wallet account Leo had set up using the academy's public terminal. ₩13조 원 ($10 billion).
His debt was ₩45.5억 ($35 million).
He could pay it off a thousand times over.
He didn't.
He sent a single, anonymous payment to the loan agency: ₩6.5억 원 ($5 million). Enough to stop the interest from compounding, to take the worst pressure off, but not enough to be suspicious. A minor windfall from a lucky side-hustle.
The rest, he kept. His war chest.
As he left the market, the broker sent a final, encrypted ping.
Info-Broker"Whoever you are... they'll notice. A unique B-rank skill just entered the underground economy. The Phantom Forger now has a name. They will look for you."
Leo read the message, then deleted it. He looked up at the rising sun painting the skyscrapers of Seoul in gold—skyscrapers owned by guilds who traded in trillions.
He had just fired the first shot in a silent war. And they didn't even know what the weapon was.
He had ₩12.99조 원 ($9.995 billion) in a ghost account, a body that felt more brittle than ever, and a fusion engine hungry for more.
Leo"Let them look."
[End of Chapter 3]