Creak.

The rusty hinge noise scraped at his ears.
Yet more bothersome than the rusty creak was the stench—a foul mix of mold, dust, and filth invading his nostrils.
The knight, whose senses were much more sensitive than others, couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose involuntarily.

Flinch!

But perhaps his frown had been misunderstood; the boy beside him flinched, thinking Ihan was angry.

“S-sorry.”
“Hm? Why are you apologizing out of the blue? I’m not mad.”
“It’s just… your expression…”
“It reeks in here. I’m surprised you can keep a straight face in an environment like this.”
“Well, uh… I come here a lot. I must’ve gotten used to it.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes…”

So-Shim looked somewhat relieved at Ihan’s reassurance, though he still seemed a bit wary.
Ihan felt a bit guilty and, strangely, even a hint of sympathy.

‘It’s not good to make a habit of that…’

How harsh must his surroundings have been for “sorry” to become a reflex and caution to become his default state?
Ihan let out a bitter chuckle.

‘He’s just like me.’

The boy reminded him of his own early years, battered by life after losing his grandfather.
It stirred his heart, and he found himself acting a bit more protective than usual.

“It’s pretty unfortunate you set up a workspace in such a place that’s terrible for your health…”
“Th-that’s… sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. You’re making me feel like the bad guy.”
“…Sorry.”
“…Alright, fine, it’s my fault. I’m the bad guy. Happy?”
“…Haha.”

So-Shim finally let out a small laugh, his tension easing a little.

Then, suddenly,

“Ah! This is it, Instructor!”
“…Oh.”

Where the boy had stopped and pointed, there was nothing but a thick, solid wall.
If a third person had been with them, they might have wondered if he’d dragged them all the way to this stinking sewer just for a prank. But Ihan was different.
Whether So-Shim realized it or not, Ihan’s senses picked up on the empty space beyond the thick wall.

“So… should I just break through?”
“Usually, people try to find a way in, not break down a wall.”
“Why bother when there’s a shortcut?”
“…Well, the average person can’t just punch through a meter-thick wall with their bare hands.”

The boy scratched his cheek, then tapped on the wall as if it were second nature.

Tap, tap, tap-tap.

A rhythmical knocking.
It was obvious that he’d done this several times before; most people wouldn’t even recognize it as a pattern.

‘Four taps downward, two light taps upward, one hard tap, and then five strokes in the middle, like a sweep?’

But Ihan, noticing even the tiniest differences, watched with curiosity as the rhythm progressed.

Creeeeak…

A noise even worse than the rusty hinges began as the wall slowly lowered itself.
And as it revealed what was beyond—

“W-welcome to my [Workshop].”

Derek opened his mouth as if he’d been waiting for a chance to say those words, but there was a slight embarrassment in his expression.

…Still,

‘It’s impressive, to be sure.’

The space was grand enough to inspire awe.

 

Hidden away in the depths of the sewer was a [Secret Workshop].

 

The underground sewer.

One of the five legendary achievements attributed to the great war hero.
At first, all the nobles had protested, complaining about the budget, but after the war hero pushed through and completed the sewer, there were even tales of the kingdom crying out his praises.

And rightly so.

In the past, the streets were filled with overflowing filth, stagnant water reeking of rot—a common sight in the kingdom.
But with the sewer complete, the people gained access to clean water at a low cost, and public restrooms were established, meaning the streets were no longer littered with waste.

As a result, public hygiene improved, reducing cases of dysentery and fever, a truly monumental achievement.

“They say that since this sewer was built, no one dies from dysentery anymore. It used to kill thirty out of every hundred people, but now it’s down to less than three.”
“Did I ask for a history lesson?”
“I-I’m a History Department student, you know…”
“Ah, so the great History Department student decided to set up a workshop in the former king’s accomplishment?”
“T-this place was here from the beginning… And, uh… could you please keep this workshop a secret? If I get caught, I’ll be on the chopping block.”
“Don’t worry. Since I’m here now, I’m an accomplice too.”
“…I didn’t bring you here with that intention, though.”

With an awkward smile, Derek scratched his head, while Ihan quietly observed the workshop.

‘This is seriously loaded with cash.’

Ihan clicked his tongue as he took in the items filling the space, which measured about thirty square meters.

It was hard to put a precise value on the various objects, but each exuded a distinct energy.

A drawer filled with the scent of herbs.
It was packed tighter than any traditional medicine cabinet he’d ever seen, and each drawer had a unique herbal aroma.
A cauldron larger than any he’d seen gave off a powerful presence, and though the mortar and beakers looked old, they radiated an air of distinction.

It was like a fusion of an alchemist’s lab and an herbalist’s clinic—a blend of East and West.

“So, when did you put this space together?”
“Um… about a month ago? It’s still pretty lacking, though.”
“......”
“W-why are you looking at me like that?”
“…It’s nothing.”

Of course, it’s that status window.
Ordinary people would have to put in decades of effort to build a workshop like this, but he managed it in just a month?
It’s like some undergrad who hasn’t even been to grad school yet already setting up a lab that would make professors envious.

‘Honestly, I feel bad for anyone without a status window…’

He knew he shouldn’t be jealous, but it was hard not to be.
Still, that jealousy faded quickly. And why?

“Well then, I’ll start the ‘Refinement’ process.”

After all, he was the one benefiting from this remarkable status-window talent. It was time to feel grateful.

The boy, whose main class was [Thief] but who had also trained as an alchemist, began refining the Demon King’s Heart.

 

“I-I’m actually skilled when it comes to handling… um, medicine.”

For the first time, Derek proudly showcased his skills.
After all, when else would he get an opportunity like this?

‘This is huge! I never thought I’d get a chance to work with such a rare material!’

It was an incredible stroke of luck for Derek.

His main job class was [Thief].
He originally wanted to go for the warrior class, but he knew his own nature well enough.
He was far from brave, so he opted for the Thief class instead.

And he was fine with it.

The Thief class had its own set of advantages, and as shown by his powerful skill, Falling Thousand Blossoms, it had impressive skills he could use.

‘It’s still risky and far from perfect, though.’

But Derek had worked hard, and to supplement his growth, he’d chosen [Alchemist] as his secondary class.
The Alchemist class, which improved his dexterity and allowed him to handle poisons and potions, paired well with the Thief class.

Thus, he poured everything into alchemy. Originally, he’d planned to apply to the Alchemy Department at the academy…

‘…but my level was too low.’

It was disappointing and frustrating to realize that he could only make basic potions.

Worried his dexterity would decline, Derek changed paths to the History Department, aiming to find and utilize hidden pieces there.

But he never gave up on alchemy.

Using all his funds, abilities, and even available hidden pieces, he had finally completed this secret workshop.
After the workshop was complete, the “Skill Unlocked” was none other than Falling Thousand Blossoms.

The skill, which etched techniques for creating throwing weapons, poisons, and potions into his mind, proved that the Alchemist class was essential for him.
After seeing its power against the monsters the other day, he felt a sense of pride in choosing the Alchemist class.

…Though he still had one big complaint.

‘Falling Thousand Blossoms… it’s a real money-eater.’

As a top-tier skill, it cost an astronomical amount in poisons and medicinal ingredients for a single use.
If he ever needed to use it twice in a row, he might as well declare bankruptcy.

In any case, to keep developing his class skills, he needed to improve his alchemy. And for that, handling rare materials was essential.
The more he worked with rare materials, the better his dexterity would become.

And now, in this moment—

‘The Demon King’s Heart…! This isn’t just rare; it’s practically the final boss of rare materials.’

A final-boss level rare material.

Even though the heart was weakened due to the Demon King’s condition, its quality was still at an astronomical level.

Handling this material was daunting, but Derek eagerly volunteered, not only to improve his alchemy but because he suspected there was no one else in the kingdom who could.

But more than anything, his reason for wanting to refine this material was…

‘To repay my debt.’

There was a debt he had to pay back.

…And one that kept growing with time.

‘…I’m sure he brought me here as a transfer student because he knew I was struggling.’

He might have claimed he brought him in as an assistant instructor, but Derek wasn’t clueless.
He knew that Ihan had brought him to the Swordsmanship Department because he’d gained unwanted attention after the [Demon King Subjugation].

It was Ihan’s way of giving him cover from any excess attention that might restrict his activities.

‘…Just who is he, really?’

Derek glanced at him.
Despite entrusting him with such a valuable material, Ihan seemed totally unfazed, inspecting the workshop without a hint of concern.
Was he not even worried that Derek might ruin such a precious material?

Was he just that fearless, or did he truly not care about material wealth?

Yet that wasn’t the reason Derek kept sneaking glances at him.

‘-The [108 Arhats], [Plum Blossom Swordsmanship]… this is way too obvious.’

The phrases and terms he occasionally used were telling enough.
Of course, Derek could be mistaken; the game or original work was, after all, Made in Korea, right?
It was possible the Eastern terms might have slipped in like errors.

…But Derek suspected otherwise. He’d come to a different conclusion.

And the only conclusion he could draw was—

Even if Ihan wasn’t a player like himself—

‘Could he be… from my world?’

A person from his homeland, someone who had entered this game in some way.
And if Ihan truly was such a person…

‘Then I need to apologize.’

As the developer of this wretched game… he needed to convey his regret.

Fwoosh!

With that apology in mind, Derek focused his whole spirit on handling the ingredients.

 

Yet unfortunately, the determination and passion with which Derek worked…

‘That kid really knows his stuff, huh?’

…only made Ihan realize how dangerous it could be.

‘…No joke, I might actually make him an assistant instructor.’

He’d been half-joking when he called Derek “Assistant Instructor #2,” but seeing him now made it hard to resist the idea.

Compared to Assistant Instructor #1 (the “slave”), Derek was much more obedient and diligent.
On top of that, he could use alchemy, he had Falling Thousand Blossoms, and Ihan sensed he probably had even more talents.

It was like—

‘I never thought I’d meet someone who’d make me drool more than a guy with a bulldozer license…’

It was like a master sergeant seeing a “veteran with ten years of construction experience” walk into their unit.

Forget about the reincarnated genius swordsman.
Possessed mage heroines?

None of that mattered.

Skilled worker Tae-Chang was the best.