My entire body tensed as I swung down, gripping the weapon in my hands with every ounce of strength I had left.
This was the thirty-second weapon, and it didn’t seem any better than the rest. Each one had its advantages and glaring weaknesses.
The swords offered versatility and decent range, but the skill required to wield them properly was far beyond my expectations. Goblin had beaten me so thoroughly when I tried the rapier that I considered just playing dead—until he casually picked me up and threw me another weapon.
The same went for shields and long-range weapons. They were practical and not too hard to get the hang of, and they allowed me to hold my ground longer. But shields lacked versatility, and there was no way I wanted to be known as a shield-bearer. As for the bow and arrow? That wasn’t me either.
I was knocked back again, the weapon in my hands slipping as I hit the ground. Another weapon—the thirty-third—was already flying through the air toward me. I barely managed to catch it, my fingers tightening around the hilt as I got to my feet once more.
“What now?” I muttered, looking down at the weapon.
It looked like another sword at first glance, and frustration welled up inside me. How many more times would I be tossed around like a rag doll?
“Another sword?” I called out, my voice hoarse from exhaustion.
Goblin paused mid-lunge, glaring at me from across the room. His aura was still wild, green and violent, like a storm just barely under control.
“Look closer, idiot!” he barked.
I glanced down at the weapon again, frowning as I gave it a more careful look. It had the shape of a sword, but something about it was off. The hilt was straight like a spear’s, and the blade itself was cylindrical, not flat like a typical sword.
“What the hell am I supposed to be seeing here?” I yelled back, frustrated and tired.
Goblin slapped his forehead in exasperation, muttering something under his breath before stalking toward me. When he reached my side, he plucked the weapon from my hands and held it out.
“It’s called a toothpick,” he explained, as if that was supposed to mean something to me.
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A toothpick? Really? What am I supposed to do, clean my teeth after a fight?”
He scowled, clearly not amused by my sarcasm. “It’s called that because it’s shaped like one, but it’s also because the real name is a pain to remember. It’s a blend of a sword and a spear—perfect for stabbing. It takes away the skill issues of a sword and the handling issues of a spear.”
With that, Goblin threw the weapon back at me and retreated to his starting position.
“Again,” he growled, his voice like thunder as he charged at me with renewed intensity.
This time, I didn’t hesitate. I spun on instinct, dropping low to the ground as I swung the toothpick in a wide arc. The air whistled as the blade cut through, aiming directly for Goblin. But he was fast—too fast. His body blurred as he vaulted over my attack with inhuman grace, twisting mid-air to slam his staff down where I stood just moments before.
The ground cracked beneath the impact, dust and dirt flying into the air as I rolled to the side, barely avoiding a blow that could’ve ended the fight then and there. Muscles screamed in protest as I surged back to my feet, gripping the toothpick tighter. I wasn’t about to give up.
With a burst of adrenaline, I lunged forward, aiming for his chest with all the speed and strength I could muster. The toothpick, light and responsive, felt like an extension of my arm as I moved.
But Goblin was relentless. His staff came up, catching my thrust mid-motion with ease. Then, in one brutal swing, he knocked the wind from my lungs with a sharp jab to my ribs. Pain exploded through my chest, but I refused to let go.
I twisted, using the momentum of his strike to spin behind him. My arms locked around his staff as I threw him over my shoulder in a desperate move.
We hit the ground hard, the impact vibrating through my bones. For a brief moment, I thought I had him. But Goblin, ever resilient, freed himself from my hold with a grunt and kicked me away. My body skidded across the floor, dirt and debris tearing at my skin as I struggled to get back on my feet.
We faced each other again, both breathing heavily. The tension between us was thick, almost palpable. My hands ached from gripping the toothpick so tightly, but I couldn’t let go. This was my best shot so far, and I wasn’t about to waste it.
Then, without warning, Goblin moved. Faster than I could track, he closed the distance between us, his form a blur as he slammed into me with the force of a truck. A faint green aura pulsed around him, amplifying his strength.
I barely had time to react. I swung the toothpick between us, trying to fend him off, but his power was overwhelming. My arms trembled as I strained to push him back, every muscle in my body screaming under the pressure.
With a desperate shove, I managed to sidestep, spinning to regain my stance. My heart pounded in my chest as I saw my chance—Goblin had overextended slightly, leaving him off-balance for just a moment.
I lunged, thrusting the toothpick toward him, aiming for his chest once more.
But Goblin was relentless. He twisted on his heels, spinning to face me with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He was fast—too fast for me to land a proper hit.
Thinking quickly, I dove forward, rolling low to the ground and maneuvering behind him once more. Goblin turned to meet me, his staff raised high, but I was quicker this time. Rising to one knee, I pressed the point of the toothpick lightly against his throat, breathing hard from the effort.
For a moment, there was silence. I grinned through my exhaustion, panting heavily.
"W-who’s the idiot now?" I managed to taunt between ragged breaths.
It was a small victory, but it felt monumental. I had outmaneuvered him. Maybe he hadn’t been going all out, but I had actually landed a hit. Slowly, I stood, keeping the toothpick pointed at his throat. The weapon felt natural in my hands now—like it belonged there.
Goblin sighed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright… The idiot is still you!”
Before I could react, his elbow crashed into my forearm, knocking the toothpick out of my grip. It clattered to the ground as Goblin retrieved his staff in a fluid motion, twirling it before launching a brutal counterattack.
The first strike slammed into my skull, sending stars exploding through my vision. The second hit me square in the chest, and the third—a vicious low blow—drove into my groin. The world blurred as I was launched backward, my body hitting the ground hard.
I lay there, utterly spent. My limbs refused to move, every part of me aching from the relentless beating. Dust settled around me as I struggled to breathe, each inhale sharp and painful.
Goblin walked over, picking a piece of rubble next to me and sitting down casually.
“Do I have to pay for this?” I croaked weakly.
“Nah, they’ll just take it out of your next paycheck,” he replied without a trace of exhaustion.
‘Great,’ I thought miserably. ‘There go my next ten paychecks.’
Goblin smiled, tossing the toothpick back at me. “At least you found your weapon.”
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I barely caught it, still dazed, but as I held the weapon in my hands, a small smile tugged at my lips. It felt…right. Like it was meant to be.
“So, what’s its real name?” I asked, curiosity taking over.
“It’s called a… Weaver! Yeah that’s it,” he replied.
I blinked, momentarily stunned. “A Weaver? So… the name that was too hard to remember has fewer letters than ‘toothpick?’”
Goblin shrugged, not even fazed. “Yeah.”
“Got it,” I muttered, shaking my head. There was no point in arguing with him. He clearly operated on his own logic.
Goblin stood up, brushing the dust from his clothes. “Now that you’ve found your weapon, let’s awaken your typing.”
⥁
We had barely made it back to our room after I regained the ability to walk. My legs still wobbled beneath me, sore from the relentless beating Goblin had just put me through. Now, I sat cross-legged on the cold floor, watching as Goblin rummaged through the dusty mess under his bed, muttering to himself.
“Remind me again why you couldn’t help me with this before turning me into a punching bag for an hour?” I asked, my voice a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.
His voice, muffled by the bedframe, called back.
“Because, even if we manage to awaken your typing now, you won’t have enough time, talent, or skill to master any of it before your next fight. That’s assuming you even get a useful type.” He paused, grunting as he pulled something further out of reach. “Plus, it’s always smart to have a backup plan.” His tone was annoyingly casual, as if the hour of hell he just put me through was a trivial warm-up.
He went quiet for a second before adding, almost too quickly, “Also, I was still mad about you losing my money.”
My jaw clenched, the frustration flaring again. I knew it wasn’t entirely my fault that the bet had gone sideways, but arguing with Goblin was not going to end well. He clearly wasn’t the type to admit when he was wrong—or care when he was right.
‘Infra, did you know about this?’ I thought silently.
What was the point of tweaking its settings if it was going to be unhelpful and boring to talk to?
‘You know that’s not what I’m asking,’ I mentally shot back. ‘Did you know about this whole process for awakening my typing?’
I was about to launch into a string of angry retorts when a particular part of Infra’s response hit me hard. My palms started to sweat.
‘Wait… you’re saying what Goblin’s about to do is force my typing to awaken? Like what you did with my Heartile?’
At that exact moment, Goblin emerged from under the bed, a triumphant look on his face as he clutched something small and green in his hands. “Found it!” he declared, raising the object in the air like a trophy.
I tensed immediately, instinctively shutting my eyes and bracing for whatever was about to happen. I had experienced what awakening my Heartile had felt like, and it wasn’t something I was keen on repeating.
A few long, excruciating moments passed. When nothing happened, I cracked open one eye. Goblin stood there, staring at me with a disgusted look that made my face flush with embarrassment.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked flatly.
“Y-you’re about to force my typing to awaken, right?” I stammered.
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah… so?”
“Then just get it over with already! I’m ready!” I shouted, clenching my fists and squeezing my eyes shut again.
The silence that followed was even longer this time, and when Goblin finally spoke again, his voice dripped with disdain. “Did you awaken your Heartile through pain?”
I opened my eyes, confused. “Y-yeah?”
He threw his head back, groaning as if I’d just revealed the world’s dumbest secret. “Open your eyes, you idiot.”
My eyes snapped open, and I found Goblin sitting across from me, holding a small, glowing green ball in his hands. He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I can’t believe you let your chip trick you into thinking this was going to hurt. This test isn’t going to force anything to awaken. That’s something you have to do on your own. How the hell do you get tricked by artificial intelligence?”
“Wait, but you said—”
“I know what I said,” Goblin interrupted. “But this test just helps give you an idea of what your typing might be. It doesn’t actually awaken it. The real awakening happens with training, fighting, and figuring it out yourself.”
Relief washed over me, the tension leaving my body in an instant. My heart rate returned to something resembling normal, and I nodded as he tossed the glowing ball into my hands.
“The test is pretty simple,” Goblin explained, leaning back. “All you have to do is funnel your aura into the ball. Based on how it reacts, we’ll know what your typing is.”
I turned the ball over in my hands, examining it. “What are the possible outcomes?” I asked.
He sighed dramatically, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “If the ball pops, you’re an Eris. If it rolls around on its own, you’re a Mech. If it compresses, you’re an Oriv. And if it bounces, you’re a Dica.”
I blinked, digesting the information. The reactions sounded simple enough, but something still nagged at me. “Wait,” I said slowly. “Aren’t there five types? You only mentioned four reactions.”
Goblin shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. “Empo types are rare as hell. I highly doubt that’s what you’ll end up with.”
“And what if I do?” I asked, feeling a little defensive.
“I guarantee you won’t.” His tone was cold. “Empo types are usually for people with tremendous amounts of skill and talent. You, on the other hand… you have neither. As I’ve said many times.”
‘Great. Thanks,’ I thought bitterly.
“Whatever,” I muttered, my patience wearing thin. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I took a deep breath and grasped the ball tightly, focusing my energy. Slowly, dark blue aura began to seep from my palms, swirling around the small green sphere. As the aura flowed into the ball, I set it down in front of me and watched closely.
At first, nothing happened. Then, the ball began to shake, vibrating so hard I thought it might explode. Suddenly, it shot up into the air and started bouncing erratically.
Goblin snorted. “Well, guess you got lucky. Someone like you managed to get a decent typing.”
“Hey!” I snapped, watching the ball bounce. Despite his insult, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. If I remembered correctly, Dica types were elementalists. My mind immediately leaped to visions of hurling fireballs and summoning storms. Maybe even riding a dragon…
“How accurate is this test?” I asked, reaching out to catch the ball as it fell back down. The blue aura retreated back into my hands.
Goblin shrugged again. “I dunno. It’s a test created by GLA, so it’s probably pretty accurate. Don’t ask me how it works or the science behind it.”
“GLA?” I asked, unfamiliar with the acronym.
“Global League of Azenci,” he said flatly, snatching the ball from me and tossing it back under his bed.
“Oh.” I scratched my head, unsure what to say next. “I’ve got more questions.”
“Ask your chip,” Goblin said, rolling over onto his bed as if the conversation was done.
“Come on, man!” I pleaded.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Two more. Then I’m going to sleep. I’ve got a fight in two hours.”
I sat up straighter, trying to make the most of the limited opportunity. “If this place is illegal, how does it avoid getting shut down by the authorities? I mean, if my chip could find out about it, there’s no way it’s that secretive.”
I’d been holding back that question since I got here. There’s no way in hell that I could find it this easily and law enforcement can’t.
Goblin grinned, his usual cocky sneer stretching across his face.
“Enzo’s got every big player in the city in his pocket. Cops, politicians, gang leaders—he’s got them all in his good graces. They don’t tell their bosses about this place because they’re all getting paid. Sometimes, they even send criminals here as an alternative punishment.”
“Good to know the legal system’s working so well,” I muttered sarcastically. The whole setup made me sick, but at the same time, it was disturbingly efficient. Though it made a lot more sense now.
“Alright,” Goblin yawned, stretching. “Last question.”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. This was the question I’d really been waiting to ask.
“Tell me more about Nemis.”
Goblin froze. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter. His whole body shook, and he pounded the mattress with his fist as he doubled over. I watched, mortified, as he rolled back and forth, clutching his stomach.
“What the hell is so funny?!” I demanded, my face burning with embarrassment.
“You—you—” He tried to catch his breath between fits of laughter. “You just awakened your Heartile! You haven’t even fully awakened your typing yet, and you think you can bond with a Nemis?! Are you out of your mind?”
“How is that so ridiculous?” I shot back, feeling my frustration boil over. “Wouldn’t a Nemis make me stronger?”
Goblin wiped tears from his eyes, his chuckles finally subsiding. “Yeah, sure. But the idea that any Nemis would want to bond with you at this stage is hilarious. They’re powerful, picky creatures. Most people don’t even think about bonding with one until they’ve reached the sixth stage. You’re not even close, kid.”
He rolled over again, clearly done with the conversation.
I sighed, turning my gaze to the door. I could almost feel my dreams of taming a dragon slipping. But I found a better meaning in Goblins' words.
All I needed to do was get stronger.
I threw off my shirt and began to meditate. I wasn’t even sure what a minor stage was, but no matter what I was going to break through it today and prove Goblin wrong.