Needless to say, my chase with Song Cheonhye ended in my victory.
The mobility gap was overwhelming to begin with, since she was basically a non-Blinker, and on top of that—
[Marks the target with ‘[Concussion Mark(B)]’.]
[Duration 00:00:11]
[Cooldown 00:29:59]
—I’d used the mark too, so she couldn’t keep running.
Sure enough, Song Cheonhye came to a dead stop and glared at me resentfully.
I grinned and said,
“Good choice. Better to get caught normally than get caught with a pounding headache.”
“No, seriously, why are you doing this to me?”
“Why am I doing this? Because the sweet buns—”
“Ah! Aaaah! Stop!”
Startled out of her mind, Song Cheonhye clapped a hand over my mouth.
Her face bright red with embarrassment, she hurried on.
“Do you really have to keep bringing that up?”
“It’s too good to keep to myself. The true side of Song Cheonhye of the Discipline Committee! Revealed to the world right now—!”
“I said don’t! And that only happened because of the potion!”
I let my expression turn serious.
“Let’s clear up one thing. Was it all stuff you didn’t mean at all?”
“Not... completely, no.”
“I figured it was the kind of thing you normally think, just said honestly because of the potion.”
At that, Song Cheonhye awkwardly looked away and mumbled,
“I mean... maybe there’s... a little of that...?”
“I know it’s embarrassing. Still, I’d say it was a pretty meaningful conversation. Meaningful time, too.”
“...I think so too.”
Her reply came out in a tiny voice.
I kept going.
“You came here today because you wanted to learn something, right? Let’s work hard.”
“Understood. You’re going to teach me ★Blink★?”
“No. Something better.”
“...?”
Song Cheonhye raised an eyebrow, and I set the tone casually.
“You’ve probably wondered how everyone keeps making those big leaps forward.”
“I thought it was because you’re good at teaching.”
“I am good at teaching. But there’s another secret.”
“...What is it?”
“It’s a skill called [Austerity].”
I gave her the short version.
A skill that assigned the most suitable personalized quest possible to the target.
The difficulty was brutal, so clearing it meant pushing yourself to the limit.
And the higher the stages went, the harder it got.
Of course, the rewards were just as substantial, and you gained a lot just from the process of working toward the goal.
Song Cheonhye’s eyes widened.
“Then why didn’t you tell me about it until now?”
“For one thing, the cooldown’s long. There’s a line of people waiting for it. Seo Ye-in, Hong Yeonhwa, Go Hyeonwoo...”
“Ah...”
“By the time I rotate through them, I’ve got no room to spare. I can’t even put it on Han Somi right now.”
“Not even Somi? Then...”
“So why am I giving it to you? I’m making a one-time exception.”
Lately, I’d been dumping [Austerity] onto Go Hyeonwoo to push the Wind God succession ahead even a little faster.
But I had separate plans this week, which meant an [Austerity] slot had opened up, and I intended to use it on Song Cheonhye.
I added one more thing.
“And obviously, even if the cooldown were generous, I wouldn’t use it on just anyone.”
“I guess there has to be a certain level of trust.”
“Yeah. There was also that request I got, and after what happened this time, I think we’ve gotten a little closer. I figured I’d trust you and try using it on you once.”
At that, the corners of Song Cheonhye’s mouth slowly started to rise.
Apparently she liked hearing we’ve gotten a little closer and I’ll trust you.
“...Thank you for thinking that well of me.”
“Want me to use it right now?”
“Can I ask one more thing first?”
“What?”
“If it’s a personalized quest, does that mean it’ll give me something related to ★Blink★?”
“I don’t know yet.”
The reason Song Cheonhye wanted to improve ★Blink★ first was simple: Hong Yeonhwa had pulled ahead, and that was making her anxious.
It was a heavily emotional goal.
Even so, I hadn’t bothered pointing that out, because I was an ardent believer in ★Blink★ myself.
Either way, once you learned it, it was useful for life.
But the system always puts efficiency first.
There was a high chance it would point her toward something completely different from what she expected.
It might ultimately be for improving ★Blink★, but in the short term it could easily make her take the long way around.
That kind of direction usually only became clear after a few stages.
Song Cheonhye nodded.
“I understand. Please use it.”
“Very well.”
[Uses ‘[Austerity]’.]
[‘[Stage 1 Austerity]’ has been assigned to the target.]
[Cooldown 5 days 23:59:58]
For a while, Song Cheonhye kept staring into empty space, apparently reading over the quest details.
“...”
“Blink?”
“...No. Like you said, it’s something else. Want me to show you?”
“Before that—”
I raised a hand to stop her, then pulled out the red book from my inventory.
“—how about using this too?”
“What is it?”
“It’s an item called [Challenge Book].”
Its effect was simple: a massive increase in quest difficulty and rewards.
[Austerity] was already hard. This would make it absurdly hard.
Even people like Dang Gyu-young, Go Hyeonwoo, and Hong Yeonhwa—who took it seriously—found it rough.
Song Cheonhye looked a little hesitant too.
“...Will that really be okay? This is my first time.”
“I think it’s better to come out swinging from the start. The others are already close to Stage 20.”
“...Already? What about Hong Yeonhwa?”
“They’re the furthest along. Past 25, I think.”
“...!”
Song Cheonhye looked briefly speechless.
She’d just realized the gap was much wider than she’d thought.
But only for a moment. Soon enough, competitive fire was blazing in her eyes.
“I’ll do it. The challenge.”
“Then take it.”
The instant the red book landed in her hand, Song Cheonhye used it without a second thought.
Then she showed me the updated quest.
[Sub Quest: [Stage 1 Austerity]](In Progress....)
▷ Increased difficulty of maintaining [Lightning Rod]
▷ Fight while maintaining 7 or more [Lightning Rods]
▷ Goal: Achieve proficiency (0/100%)
That result caught me a little off guard, so I asked immediately.
“What the hell? You had [Lightning Rod]?”
“I’ve learned almost all the lightning magic.”
“Then how come I’ve never seen you use it?”
It was a kind of summoned construct, a totem made by condensing electric current.
It could amplify destructive power, smooth out skill chains, and do all kinds of things. In terms of versatility, it was top-tier.
Better yet, it wasn’t fixed in one place. The caster could move it however they wanted.
And she’d been letting a near-universal skill like that gather dust all this time.
Song Cheonhye pretended to reread the quest window and started making excuses.
“...I just didn’t think it suited me. I’m an all-rounder.”
“An all-rounder should use it even better.”
An artillery-type mage barely had to move at all, so for them, setting it up around themselves and chaining skills off it was the end of the story.
Even that was plenty useful.
But an all-rounder could go a step beyond that—leave [Lightning Rods] in the right places ahead of time, or send them out in advance exactly where they’d be needed.
I pointed that out, but Song Cheonhye answered as if it meant nothing.
“I honestly never felt the need for it.”
Still, the fact that she wouldn’t quite meet my eyes suggested it had hit a nerve.
So I leaned in close.
“Tell me the truth. You avoided it because you couldn’t keep it maintained or controlled, right?”
“...I can.”
“You can only make two [Hummingbird]s. Or was it three?”
“I got it up to four, actually.”
Song Cheonhye snapped back at once.
My base count was six.
And that had been first-semester freshman level.
Still, there was no need to poke her pride any further, so I left that part alone and asked again.
“So how many [Lightning Rods] can you manage?”
“Four is easy.”
“You sure? Want to go test it?”
“...Two.”
“Then right now you’ll be lucky to manage even one.”
The quest had the condition Increased difficulty of maintaining [Lightning Rod] attached to it, after all.
Song Cheonhye pouted a little.
“If I really put my mind to it, I’ll get this kind of thing down fast.”
“Sure. Let’s go test it.”
Soon, we entered one of the training rooms in the training center and took positions facing each other in the middle.
“...”
Song Cheonhye pulled on gloves with both hands, then focused.
Sparks jumped from the tiny topazes set into them, and electric current began to build.
CRACKLE
The current gathered at a nearby point and took the shape of a thin pillar—something like a rod.
That upright shape hanging straight in the air was [Lightning Rod].
Song Cheonhye added confidently,
“See? It’s easy if I put my mind to it.”
“I saw it. Let’s go for number two.”
“...”
CRACKLE
Electric current rose from the topazes again, this time converging at a point on the opposite side to form a second [Lightning Rod].
But it flickered nonstop, far less stable than the first one.
The ease had vanished from Song Cheonhye’s face too.
“...I-I got two as well.”
“You need seven.”
“I’ll build up one at a time.”
CRACKLE
The current gathered again, trying to form a third [Lightning Rod].
But every time it started to take shape, it collapsed. It took shape, then collapsed. Over and over.
“...!”
Gritting her teeth, Song Cheonhye focused with everything she had.
I watched for a moment, then cast [Wind Force] and gave her a light shove.
WHOOOSH
“W-wait—”
Caught off guard by the sudden interference, Song Cheonhye stumbled backward several steps, and naturally, every last [Lightning Rod] scattered apart.
She stared at me like I was insane.
“Why are you pushing me?”
“This is how it works.”
“How is this how it works?”
“It says it right there in the quest. Fight while maintaining 7 or more [Lightning Rods].”
Apparently, in her mind, [Wind Force] didn’t even qualify as combat.
Song Cheonhye closed her mouth for a moment, then argued back.
“First I need to get it up to seven. Fighting comes after that.”
“From what I can see, doing both at once will be faster.”
Things that didn’t work had a way of starting to work once you got beat on enough.
That method had been proven by countless precedents.
Song Cheonhye herself was living proof, forged under the squeaky hammer.
“...Fine.”
Even while showing her displeasure, she took her place across from me again.
Then she tried to cast [Lightning Rod] once more, but I kept talking in an even tone.
“But doing the same thing every time gets stale. Squeaky hammer, wind, same old routine.”
“...?”
“So this time, I’ve invited some special guests to help with your training.”
“Special... guests...?”
“It’ll be faster if you just see them.”
I gave a light wave as a signal, and the training-room door opened.
Seo Ye-in and Fast-Luckless walked in.
I’d sent them a message in advance.
Song Cheonhye greeted them with extreme awkwardness.
“H-hello...”
The black-mark memories from the entertainment district a few days ago were probably flashing through her head.
It had been inevitable that they’d run into each other eventually, but she clearly hadn’t expected that moment to be now.
Still, she quickly got herself under control, probably because she assumed Seo Ye-in wasn’t going to tease her the way I did.
Seo Ye-in was detached by nature. There was a good chance she wouldn’t even mention it.
Soon, Song Cheonhye put a faint smile on her face and continued.
“You surprised me when you said special guests.”
“...”
“But I can definitely see why it’d feel different, like he said. Your classes are different, and you’re both skilled.”
“...”
“So... I hope you’ll take good care of me.”
Instead of answering, Seo Ye-in just stared at her.
Then she opened her mouth and dropped a single line.
“...The sweet buns were good.”
“Aaaahhh!”
Song Cheonhye writhed in mortification.
