The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature

The agent presumed to be Alfonso, errand man of a conglomerate.

Centrim, and Delippersy, which it supported.

Could such connections really be coincidence?

‘No way.’

In reality, perhaps. But in a game, it was inevitability.

There was a high chance they were related one way or another.

‘But for now, I’ll have to hold off.’

There were times when even knowing, one had to leave things alone.

Centrim was far too big a giant for me to provoke.

If I was careless, I would be the one devoured.

For now, it was enough to know that Centrim might have approached Dalton Sunderland through Alfonso, and that Delippersy had drawn Centrim’s interest.

In Korea, the use of firearms or bayonets was illegal by default.

To purchase one required qualifications, and even to possess one demanded permits.

Aside from shooting ranges, the only place one could handle and use firearms was the military.

But the world of FP was different.

Here, purchasing and owning guns and blades was free, and even using them wasn’t much of an issue.

Thanks to the Bureau of Public Safety’s negligent handling, it was a world where one had to protect one’s own body.

Naturally, weapons shops—including gun dealers—had flourished.

The chain I considered the best among them was ‘Smith & Whale’.

It wasn’t the most famous, but its quality was so well recognized that branches had spread beyond Gellerg City to other cities.

It handled not only bulk orders from conglomerates but also had its own in-house brand of products.

And not as token fillers either, but items competitive even with those of major corporations.

I remembered being satisfied with their goods in previous playthroughs.

‘It’s been a while.’

I looked up at a Smith & Whale branch in the middle of a main street.

The store was huge, occupying an entire building.

Bright and even cute from the outside, it looked more like a big-box mart than a weapons dealer.

The foot traffic matched.

People constantly moved in and out.

It was the kind of place worth stepping into, even just out of curiosity.

I pulled my hood down low and crossed the entrance.

Unlike its charming exterior, the interior was every bit a classic weapons shop.

The heavy beat of drums thumped against my chest.

Inside the spacious hall, shelves displayed all sorts of products.

Prosthetics, guns, bullets, longswords—

Deadly weapons lined up as naturally as cuts of meat in a butcher’s shop.

Thump! Tutu-thump!

Gunfire thudded dully in my ears.

On one side of the building, a shooting range was provided for testing.

People picked out weapons as if it were second nature.

Alien to my homeland’s sensibilities, but in this world, it was nothing unusual.

Taang!

I tapped lightly on a prosthetic arm that caught my eye.

I didn’t know what metal it used, but it was solid and carried a proper weight.

‘I can understand why machine-worshippers appear.’

In Gellerg City, body modification was a mainstream surgery.

Prosthetic arms and legs that moved like real limbs—no words were needed to explain their utility.

The designs were sleek enough that they even looked good as ornaments.

“The SE-II model scores full marks as a prosthetic, but its design focus is on function as a weapon. In such a harsh world, don’t you think one needs a means of self-defense?”

Beside me, a staffer was explaining the same product to a customer.

When he pressed the base of the thumb, the fingertips sharpened into blades.

Slice!

He cut a sample ore block on display, splitting it effortlessly in two.

‘Impressive.’

And the price matched the effect.

I put the product back on the shelf and headed toward my intended section.

‘So many.’

Everywhere I looked, it was guns and ammunition.

Neatly arranged by type, with pistols among them.

‘Even a cheap pistol had decent usability.’

In the fight against Maley, a pistol had proved effective enough.

I wasn’t planning to make a gun my main weapon.

It just needed to serve as a reliable sidearm.

Clack! Tick!

I dry-fired one without loading ammo.

The design was suitable, and the grip could be called good.

As I fiddled with it, an employee approached.

“That’s the Querral-3. Even though it’s not one of our in-house brand products, it’s one I can recommend. It’s tough enough not to chip against a saw blade, and its firepower is top-class. You won’t regret it.”

An in-house brand?

No wonder it felt right.

Smith & Whale’s in-house products were uniformly overseen in planning and production by dwarves.

Quality assurance was a given.

‘Dwarves, huh.’

As everyone knew, the race of blacksmiths.

Short but stocky, with sturdy muscles and stubbornness, they were considered born artisans.

The fact that even a politically unconnected people had been exceptionally allowed entry into District 2 said it all.

“How much?”

“The price is listed here.”

“…”

I quietly put it down.

Too expensive for me.

What kind of pistol cost more than a rifle?

It wasn’t even a main weapon. For someone who didn’t even have his own place yet, it was a luxury.

“Where are the cheaper models?”

“This way, please.”

The staffer introduced them kindly.

But the cheap ones didn’t appeal either.

If the price was good, the power was lacking; if the power was fine, it felt like a loss compared to the Hastok-400.

The real problem was my empty wallet.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think we have anything else I can recommend.”

Even the friendly staffer declared defeat.

I resigned myself to just buying a holster and ammo before leaving.

“Sir, if nothing catches your fancy, how about firearm modification?”

“Modification?”

“There are discerning customers who dislike factory stock products. We offer personal customization services.”

The Hastok-400 was as cheap as cheap came.

Even modified, it couldn’t match the latest guns.

But the mention sparked an idea that flashed through my mind.

“I’ll come back another time.”

I stepped outside and sat on a quiet bench.

Even as I drew my pistol from the holster, no one batted an eye.

Convenient for me.

‘Instead of half-baked mechanical mods, there’s a more reliable method.’

One most people never even attempted, but one I was well used to.

‘Enchanting.’

The professional technique of imbuing objects with magic to alter their properties.

Items enhanced that way were called artifacts.

Even a pebble by the roadside, if an artifact, would make most people’s eyes gleam.

That much was proven.

‘The problem is, this isn’t my specialty.’

Enchanting inanimate objects followed a very different track from ordinary magic use.

Of course, I could do it if I had to.

But not with this body.

‘Enchanting requires inscribing formulas into the medium.’

It was engraving powered by one’s own mana.

With the meager mana stored in this body, it would take forever.

“…”

My gaze, floating aimlessly, landed on the spirit buzzing about, oblivious to my dire circumstances.

“…Come to think of it, I have that guy.”

The circuits inscribed into the spirit’s cocoon operated without any other power source.

That was because they ran on the mana contained within the spirit itself.

Its rejection of twisted black magic hinted at the same truth.

In other words, the spirit itself was a wellspring of natural mana.

So then.

‘If I used it as the power source for inscription…?’

I unconsciously licked my dry lips.

「The World Tree is horrified by your dreadful imagination.」

Whack! Whack!

“Ow, ow!”

Tendrils lashed across my back.

The spirit, perhaps informed by the World Tree, trembled as it hid behind a vine.

“No, I was just imagining it.”

What kind of madman would torment this little thing?

It was only a hypothetical, nothing more.

‘So should I just give up on this idea?’

I thought it was a good one.

But reality kept tripping me up with obstacles.

Then suddenly, one person came to mind.

‘There was someone who was good at this sort of thing.’

A talent who had stood out in the Mage Tower.

Artifact crafting wasn’t his main profession, yet he had so much talent that people constantly urged him to change majors.

The little things he made for fun had even been delivered to the Tower Master, so there was no doubting their quality.

‘He entered the Tower late, so if I approach him early now, won’t I be able to use him cheaply?’

Talent was never something that stayed hidden.

Even at this early, unripe stage, he’d have enough skill to meet my demands.

‘I recall he grew up in the slums as a child.’

Among mages—most of whom were from noble houses—he was a rare, self-made type.

That was why finding him early wasn’t as simple as it sounded.

There was no way the name he used in the Mage Tower was his real one, and with the vastness of District 7, it was like looking for a needle in a desert.

‘Should I buy information?’

That would just be pouring water into a bottomless jar.

But if I managed to track him down, it would be a huge gain.

Connections with an artifact maker were that valuable.

‘I’ll have to bring it up with Cromwell.’

Either way, it was about time to visit and take Greenwood’s request.

I made up my mind and stood.

「The World Tree senses an unpleasant gaze and issues a warning.」

“I know.”

It had started around the time I left Smith & Whale.

I could feel someone watching me in secret.

I hadn’t sensed hostility, so I’d ignored it, but at this rate they’d follow me all the way to the hotel.

Anyone this persistent couldn’t be acting on impulse.

‘Who is it?’

Aside from the Brotherhood affair, I hadn’t made direct enemies…

I thought on it, then gave up.

I’d just confirm directly.

Ssshhkk!

“…Kk!”

A stifled shriek.

The weight caught on the whip vine was light.

‘A child?’

I didn’t lower my guard.

In this line of work, age meant nothing.

Using a childish, unassuming appearance to induce carelessness was a classic trick.

Fwoosh!

「The World Tree winces and blows on the scorched vine.」

A structured flow of mana, and sparks bursting in the air.

It was elemental fire magic.

‘A mage personally tailing someone?’

Surprising, but it didn’t change what I had to do.

I heard noises—hurried footsteps, a hand reaching out, clumsy movements to regain balance.

Whether because they were young, or because they were just unskilled, it was sloppy in many ways.

Click!

“Eek!”

I pressed the barrel to the middle of their forehead, and they froze.

“Raise both hands above your head and step forward.”

I gestured with a tilt of my chin.

The child accepted the disadvantage and obeyed.

“What’s your purpose for following me? If you confess who sent you, I’ll let you live.”

“…”

Silence.

So the child had pride, at least.

I sneered at uncooperative attitude.

“If you don’t want to talk, fine.”

Even if I didn’t hear it now, I’d just take a longer route.

“I can always investigate myself.”

Dark mages, necromancers, espers…

There were plenty of ways to extract information without a living person’s mouth.

I knew the high pride of mages.

If this guy wanted to keep silent, I’d respect it.

The guy just has to deal with the consequences.

“This is your last warning. Speak.”

I pressed the gun barrel closer and yanked back the hood.

To strip away the last refuge of shadows.

Whsshhk!

And that was when I realized what silence meant.

“Fainted.”

The child's eyes had rolled back, showing only the whites.

“An amateur.”

For a tail to faint just from being threatened with a gun—

Whoever sent the child, was sloppy.

“How should I deal with this one?”

As I pondered, looking at the child face gave me a strange sense of familiarity.

「The World Tree peers closely, saying the face looks familiar.」

I had seen it somewhere before.

Recalling my memory, I soon realized.

“This kid…”

I scratched my head and lowered the gun.

We weren’t enemies.

“It’s the kid from District 7.”

「The World Tree greets the child warmly and offers a handshake.」

The World Tree grabbed the fainted child’s hand and shook it.

Meanwhile, I checked the child's eyelids for signs of consciousness.

It didn’t look like the child would wake anytime soon.

“For now…”

I pulled the hood back over the child's head.

“I’ll have to take the child.”

There had been a misunderstanding.

Once the child woke, we needed to have a real talk.

Never mind the joy of reunion—for the child use of magic, if nothing else.

“It’s been a while. I was starting to wonder if you’d washed your hands of this life.”

“As if.”

That was Cromwell’s greeting.

Considering how often I had visited—except when I was resting—it had been a while.

Because of the deal with Hattig, I didn't have a choice.

I shrugged and sat at the bar.

“I had some business. I need to get some things in order.”

“Your gun? A fine weapon.”

Cromwell glanced at the grip sticking out of my holster and seemed to know the model.

“But if you want my advice, you should use something better.”

“I know. But hey, budget’s a thing.”

Between bounties and rewards, I had nothing left.

Maybe out of conscience, Cromwell didn’t press further.

“It’s been quite some time—still no request from Greenwood?”

“Actually, you’ve come at the right time.”

He pulled a request slip from his drawer.

“Greenwood’s. Take a look.”

Finally,

At last, Greenwood’s request.

I checked the details with rising anticipation.

Once I had read it through, I let out a deep breath without realizing it.

“Phew.”

“It’s quite a step up in difficulty from the last job. There’s no need to risk recklessness.”

“No, that sigh wasn’t because of that.”

It was closer to admiration.

“I’ll take this request.”

「Raid on Delippersy’s production plant.」

There was no reason to refuse.

(End of Chapter)