Overgeared

"Hah... Wahh...! Hup! Fucking!"

Zibal was anxiously watching Raiders being thoroughly disassembled and made sounds one after another. It was with admiration, not lamentation. It wasn't because Raiders had been innovated or strengthened as Grid promised. Raiders was still half deconstructed, but Zibal didn't care.

What if something went wrong with Raiders? There was no time to feel such anxiety or worry. It was Grid that Zibal couldn't take his eyes off, not Raiders. It had been 14 hours. For more than half the day, Zibal was impressed and thrilled. He felt an unfamiliar shock at the sight of Grid, who worked hard without wasting a minute or a second.

'How can a person do this?'

As he disassembled Raiders, he figured out how to innovate the next item, made new items, and innovated it when done. He inspected the items made by the Overgeared Skeletons and God Hands, sincerely answered the dwarf asking for advice from the sidelines, disassembled Raiders, thought about it, remade it, and innovated it...

Grid never once rested as he listened to and discussed the reports of Lauel, who stopped by. He kissed Irene's cheek as thanks for the packed lunch she gave him, but didn't stop thinking. His mind was as bright and clean as a mirror despite the hatchling popping up and complaining. Even when he summoned Overgeared Corn because he was exhausted, he didn't let go of his thoughts as he stared at the furnace.

This already wasn't the attitude of a player. The essence of a player was to 'pursue pleasure' and they could often relax. Meanwhile, Grid always remained tense and 'worked.' Zibal was a person who once coveted the supreme spot and he knew the concept of effort, perseverance, and labor, but... in front of Grid, he thought it was something that he didn't dare discuss.

'This guy... he has a different mindset toward this world.'

Therefore, no one could beat him. Of course, Zibal couldn't win. Zibal was thrilled as he realized it once again. Then he suddenly glanced to the side. 'By the way, what is with this guy?'

Picasso—it was obvious just from the ID, but the 1st ranked artist with the eccentric temperament had been sitting next to him since some time ago. Zibal stared at the small woman filling up the canvas while staring at Grid and finally couldn't stand it. He asked, "What are you doing now?"

"Drawing a picture."

"Is it a portrait of Grid?"

Picasso replied sluggishly, "Fortunately, I have a good brush and paints." It was an attitude like Zibal was asking the obvious.

However, it wasn't obvious for Zibal. "Why are you painting a portrait of Grid?"

He heard there was a painter in the guild, but it was a fan? Did she join the Overgeared Guild with the heart of a fan and to satisfy her own self-interest?

"An average person... you wouldn't understand it even if I explained it to you."

explain the concept of the extremely honorable painting. Thus, she shut up unilaterally during the conversation. It was a temperament unique to an artist. It was easy to

puzzled because he had never been called

a nobody was a separate matter from his mindset. Zibal thought that this

brush. No matter how good the tool, no matter how long it took, the chance of 'updating' the extremely honorable painting was less than 2%. She was obsessed with almost the

soon convinced. Yes, he was ordinary. He became ordinary after Grid gained Zikfrector. As he served Zikfrector, he approached the abyss of the 'seven malignant saints' worldview. The closer he got to the abyss, the more he was crushed by a great

him instead. It was a fact he hadn't realized... looking back now, his worries had completely disappeared after joining the Overgeared Guild. He had been very comfortable lately.

...I'm ashamed.

that the responsibility he put down was weighing on Grid's

are

Ttang!Ttang!Ttang!

smithy, which seemed ordinary just before, was now completely different. The flames in the furnace never went out and they seemed to whip at Grid violently. The metal on the anvil—it gradually strengthened and carried the lives of those touched by Grid. Grid sat enduring the heat of the flames and swung his hammer silently and he abruptly felt lonely and pitiful. Zibal caught a glimpse of Grid's shoulders that couldn't rest for a moment, being weighed down by

What were these embarrassing, sentimental thoughts? The young painter's unexpected words made him think of the stars. Zibal was surprised by the sudden thoughts and swore when he came to his senses. He stared at Picasso, who instilled such awkward sensibility

one? This uncle? I

Zibal snorted with anger at Picasso's words to herself and left

I won't let you

demon war—it was said that it would be an unprecedented war. First of all, he would be helpful from then on. Until then, he would struggle a bit more and become stronger so he could share some of the responsibility weighing on Grid's shoulders. Try and feel

and wake up! Let's go hunting!

was needed to become stronger quickly in

***

number of people falling out of the hell expedition was increasing every day. Still, Yura seemed to be doing well considering the expedition

were innovated, including Zibal's Raiders. His understanding of Raiders increased to 100%. In addition to the 'Magic Machine:

"Hrmm."

the middle of the Red Sea with Braham and designated

Rumble!

the God Hand grew in volume

Flash!

light from the sky without projecting it. It was none other than the magic machine, Raiders, who stood

'As expected.'

there was an important experiment left. The reason Grid asked Braham to fly him to the Red Sea was because... he wanted to