The press conference room, alive with camera flashes and hushed murmurs, suddenly fell silent as every journalist's gaze swiftly turned to Lee Kyung Jin. It was as if the entire world paused for a moment, holding its breath, waiting for what would come from his lips.
But Lee Kyung Jin remained seated, calm and composed, his face radiating an unshakable tranquility. Without the slightest sign of anxiety, he offered a casual smile, as if nothing more than a simple conversation had just unfolded.
"Well, if that's true, I guess I'll need to prepare a VVIP capsule for that user, haha," he said with a light tone, as though it were nothing extraordinary, just a small joke in the midst of a significant meeting.
His smile lingered, though there was something deeper hidden within it, something far more profound than anyone could have guessed. The journalists, once merely a group of passive observers, transformed into a swarm of panicked bees, pushing and shoving to contact their sources. The once silent room, filled with curiosity, erupted into a chaotic din of rapid, disordered chatter.
Lee Kyung Jin, accustomed to such situations, remained unfazed. Slowly, he rose from his seat, casting a glance over the journalists who were now immersed in their frantic work. Then, without another word, he exited the room. In an instant, the once noisy and bustling atmosphere gave way to an eerie silence. Kyung Jin walked steadily toward the waiting room.
Inside the waiting room, a few employees hurried toward him, their faces etched with seriousness. One of them, a man with a neat appearance and eyes full of attention, stood ready, a lit screen in his hand. He was the head of the Special User Management Team—one of the organization's lesser-known divisions, yet one that played a crucial role.
"Mr. President!" the man greeted with a firm tone.
Lee Kyung Jin raised an eyebrow, signaling that he was ready to hear what was important. The head of the Special User Management Team stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the screen that displayed something particularly intriguing.
"A user... actually managed to destroy a wooden doll in just ten attempts," the man said, his voice filled with disbelief, though he tried to maintain a serious demeanor. There was something profoundly unusual behind those words, and Lee Kyung Jin could sense it.
"What—what did you say?" Kyung Jin asked, his tone rising slightly, signaling genuine surprise. Though not easily startled, this news clearly caught him off guard.
"Yes, that's right," the man replied, as if trying to reassure himself, though his expression showed that he, too, was at a loss for how to react.
"Show me the replay," Kyung Jin ordered, his voice calm, though his heart raced. There was something extraordinary in this report, and he wanted to witness it firsthand.
With a single click of the mouse, the screen in the waiting room flickered to life again. Kyung Jin moved closer, his eyes fixed on the display showing a young man with an unremarkable appearance. Nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary—except perhaps the intensity and determination in his eyes. Yet something was clearly amiss.
"What kind of weapon is that?" Kyung Jin asked, his voice tinged with astonishment, his tone slightly harsher than usual. On the screen, the young man wielded a sword that emitted a sharp aura, vastly different from the typical weapons used by beginners in the zone.
"That... that's not a weapon we've ever seen before," the head of the Special User Management Team replied, now visibly puzzled.
"Sometimes, special users receive artifacts from NPCs to face specific challenges, but a weapon that powerful—this is the first time we've seen something like it."
But it wasn't just about the weapon. The sword the young man held seemed far more than just an ordinary artifact. Its sharp aura was so intense, almost as if it possessed a deeper, more mysterious power—something unknown. Kyung Jin furrowed his brow, sensing that a far greater secret was beginning to unfold.
On the screen, the young man began swinging his sword. Each strike rang out with a heavy, forceful thud, reverberating with raw energy. Every blow felt as though it carried a monumental force behind it.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The sound of the strikes grew increasingly distinct, vibrating through the air in the waiting room.
On the eighth strike, the wooden doll shattered into pieces, its fragments falling to the floor. Kyung Jin's eyes widened. He could hardly believe what he had just witnessed. The wooden doll, which typically withstood attacks without so much as a scratch, had been reduced to splinters with just a few strikes. What had just happened?
"Could it be...?" Kyung Jin muttered, his gaze shifting quickly to the staff member from the Special User Management Team standing nearby. His face was full of worry and confusion.
The Special User Management Team was responsible for monitoring every user. They needed to know everything about each one—their actions, the weapons they used, even the smallest details of their activities. They should have known what had just occurred.
****
The Special User Management Team, a clandestine division with an essential and unrelenting mission, worked tirelessly to monitor the activities of users. In a room brimming with monitors, tension filled the air. All eyes were locked on one particular screen, showing a young man with a look of self-satisfaction etched on his face.
"So, it's likely true…" Lee Kyung Jin muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible yet resonating through the otherwise silent room. He was piecing together fragments of a puzzle that only grew more perplexing by the second.
"Did he craft that sword himself? What's its rank?" he asked, his tone breaking the stillness. His gaze was sharp, brimming with curiosity.
The head of the management team, Orion, lifted his eyes from the report he was poring over. "Epic," he replied succinctly, though the weight of the word hung heavily in the air.
"Epic?" Kyung Jin's voice rose, disbelief evident in his tone. The furrow in his brow deepened. "How is it possible for a level 1 player—someone who hasn't even chosen a profession—to create a sword of epic rank?"
His face was a storm of astonishment and bewilderment. Meanwhile, Orion, seated in unperturbed calm, responded in a level tone, as if the fact were merely routine. "It's true. According to the game's data, the user crafted the sword himself."
A profound silence engulfed the room. Kyung Jin's thoughts ran wild, considering every possible explanation. The beginner zones were designed to amplify a person's real-world talents. Archers grew more precise, kendo practitioners became deadlier with their blades, and judo athletes saw their skills soar to new heights. But this… this was something else entirely.
Kyung Jin's mind wandered back to a past conversation with the development team. "Creating a blacksmithing profession was the hardest challenge we've ever faced," one of the developers had admitted.
"Why?" he'd asked at the time.
"Because there are almost no true blacksmiths left in the world. Manual blacksmiths, those who work entirely by hand from start to finish… there are fewer than ten globally," they'd explained.
Those words echoed in his ears now. With a hesitant tone, Kyung Jin turned to Orion. "Isn't Mr. Clays renowned as a blacksmith? Doesn't he fit the description?"
Orion nodded slightly, but his response only deepened the somber atmosphere. "Mr. Clays is famous, yes, but… even he feels unworthy of the title 'blacksmith.' He says his skills are more mechanical than truly artisanal."
"There's no one left who practices blacksmithing by hand…" Kyung Jin murmured, his voice tinged with quiet lament.
"There was once a master craftsman in Korea. He worked solely with his hands, creating pieces so lifelike they were almost magical."
"Was?" Orion raised an eyebrow, confusion evident on his face.
Kyung Jin sighed deeply before explaining, "He's in a vegetative state now. Even Mr. Clays admitted that this man was the greatest blacksmith he'd ever encountered."
Silence reclaimed the room, a shared sense of loss hanging in the air like a shadow. It was Kyung Jin who finally broke it, his voice firm and decisive.
"When does the capsule arrive?" he asked, pointing toward the screen.
His gaze was fixed on the young man, who continued to hum a carefree tune, his face still wearing that enigmatic smile. There was something off about him. On the surface, he seemed like just another ordinary user, but he radiated an aura of mystery, making him impossible to ignore.
"If there's only one true blacksmith left in this world, and he's in a vegetative state, then… who is this user?" Kyung Jin thought, his eyes never leaving the monitor. The young man was a riddle, a question that begged to be solved.