Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty-Four: Beware of Tropes
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake looked around from left to right, making sure the only person near was Lamar who could hardly be called ‘around’ as he was also preupied fully in his own work.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ok! No more interruptions! This quest is getting done!” Drake shouted his hands raised as he looked down at the workbench, his materials and tools he had received from Lamar on it.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">“Rather eager to do work are you not?”</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Natto asked.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">Well, yeah. I need these items done ASAP. Not just for myself but everyone is in need of these essories. Vitality rings, earrings, and whatever else I can make could be the difference in someone living or dying so there''s no more time to waste… After ire was kidnapped too, I need to do all I can to help everyone be strong enough to not have that happen if possible. I’m more worried about the people close to me than anything…</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake thought, shifting in his chair.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">Drake, you can not save everyone. I have told you this. And you are also not a god, it is not your responsibility to protect everyst person that you have interacted with,”</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Natto reminded him.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake tilted back his chair, throwing his hands behind his head as he sighed.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">At least not yet.</em><span style="font-weight:400"> He thought.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">What?</em><span style="font-weight:400">” Natto asked.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">I’m not a God, yet.</em><span style="font-weight:400"> He thought again, feeling Natto roll her eyes.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">What? Who’s to say you can’t technically be a God? You already told me I’ll basically live for thousands of years already. Why wouldn’t I be basically a God when I reach S Rank? Those Primordials you’re so scared of seem to be just as good as a God.</em>
<em><span style="font-weight:400">“That ispletely different! They were born as a higher race! They can even bend some of the system to their wills!” </em><span style="font-weight:400">Natto shouted back.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">That’s cool, but I have the power of anime and friendship on my side, and we know who always wins in those fights.</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake joked.
<span style="font-weight:400">Natto sighed and went silent knowing that arguing with him would lead to only more of a headache.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake smiled and leveled his chair, looking back at his materials and focusing on the task at hand.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ok, back to it then,” he said excitedly.
<span style="font-weight:400">For the next few hours, Drake tinkered with making rings first. He went through the process before and continued to improve on it ring after ring. Hammering them to fit around the mandrel was the easy part. The next few parts were much more tenuous.
<span style="font-weight:400">He had to figure out how to meld the metal together without proper solder. Which he couldn’t figure out surprisingly enough. He thought he could manage by just doing his best to heat the metal to a point where he could stick them together but it only ended with the metal bing a lump of mush and unworkable.
<span style="font-weight:400">Eventually giving in, he lugged his way over to Lamar and gave the best impression of puppy dog eyes he could. Which only served to creep Lamar out enough to help Drake, if only to get him the hell away from him.
<span style="font-weight:400">The Cyclopean gave Drake a frustrated look once he went over to see the process Drake was going through.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You fucking moron. You’re overheating it! And you aren''t forging the metal!” Lamar roared, as soon as he saw what Drake was doing.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Not what?” Drake asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You aren’t forging the metal! Ahhh… It’s ruined,” Lamar sighed looking at the lump Drake had just overheated, “You have to heat it just right, then strike it to merge the metal into a single piece!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“How was I supposed to know, don’t you use solder for that type of thing?” Drake asked, confused.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Do you think we have fucking solder?! You’re thinking of modern-day practices! We don’t even have sand and borax you tool!” Lamar shouted.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake was thoroughly confused now.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">What do we need sand for? And what the hell is borax have to do with crafting?</em>
<span style="font-weight:400">“Idiot… Here just watch,” Lamar said taking one of the strips from the table.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar sized up the stip first, then found his key ring holding his sizers for fingers. His one eye shifted over to look at Drake, then his hands, quickly guessing the approximate size of his thumb.
<span style="font-weight:400">He then ced it on the mandrel, marking the position with some charcoal.
<span style="font-weight:400">After that he quickly got to work, bending and hammering the metal lightly eventually getting it into a perfect ring. Once he was finished that he looked over the ring’s position briefly, nodding to himself.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, a small constant me exiting his mouth as he turned the ring over in his hand, apparently unaffected by the fire. Then once the ring was a radiant orange-red hue, he began to lightly hammer the piece again on the mandrel.
<span style="font-weight:400">After a few minutes of dunking the ring into a bucket of water, heating and dunking some more, the cyclopean had a ring of metal in between hisrge sausage-like fingers.
<span style="font-weight:400">Nodding to himself again, he quickly pulled out a file rubbing down the edges. After that a piece of sandpaper that looked like it shone with color Drake had never seen before. Quickly taking a few swipes at the ring, Lamar huffed in satisfaction, throwing it to Drake.
<strong>[Perfectly Made Metal Band [F Grade]</strong>
<ul>
<li><strong>A near perfectly made ring of Metal made by a Master Artisan.</strong></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><strong>The system praises the Craftsman for producing a masterpiece out of such shoddy material.</strong></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><strong>Increases Strength by 5%</strong></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-weight:400">“Well, fuck you too…” Drake hummed aloud looking at the piece, his eyes moving to the paper still in Lamar’s hand briefly.
<strong>[cksmiths Mana Sander] [F Grade]</strong>
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake wasn’t able to get any more information from his Magic Sight skill, but the item’s name spoke for itself.
<span style="font-weight:400">The sander must have been a pretty decent item that contained some sort of Magic making it easier to rough down the metal to its smooth appearance now.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake rubbed his thumb over the metal band, honestly impressed. Not that he would tell Lamar that.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Get it now freak?” Lamar sneered.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake blew a raspberry, “Bitch please. I can do that,” he scoffed, slipping the ring onto his thumb.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">Wow.. perfect fit…</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake thought.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake heard a snickering in the back of his mind at the thought, but he did his best to keep a straight face.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then, let''s see it tiny,” Lamar provoked, giving a big sharp toothy grin.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake moved back over to the bench, giving Lamar a sidelong stink eye before sitting down.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Just cause you''re freakishly huge doesn’t mean I’m small…. Everyone is small to you! Stupid asshole….” Drake muttered, pulling a strip of metal from the pile.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">Hit you in the non-six-foot sore spot did he?” </em><span style="font-weight:400">Natto giggled.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake ignored Natto, finding the ring sizer instead.
<span style="font-weight:400">He fumbled around with the instrument for a bit, eventually finding a snug enough fit for his ring finger.
<span style="font-weight:400">Going through the same process as before he reached the point where he had to heat up the ring.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake gave a nce at Lamar, who was looking carefully over Drake’s shoulder.
<span style="font-weight:400">Smirking, Drake formed a scarlet red circle in front of his mouth allowing him to almost breathe fire in the same way Lamar had.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s not funny,” Lamar said behind Drake.
<span style="font-weight:400">“It’s kind of funny,” Drake replied, turning his head but the fire still spewing forward since he wasn’t actually spitting fire.
<span style="font-weight:400">Turning back to his task, Drake willed the me to move and spread the heat around the joint he was going to hammer. Unlike Lamar, Drake wasn’t able to hold the piece with his bare hands, instead using one of the mps he had been given.
<span style="font-weight:400">Satisfied with the glow of the heated metal, Drake got to work hammering lightly on the mandrel turning the ring every so often.
<span style="font-weight:400">Once Drake saw the metal begin to dim he ced it into the water of the bucket, then repeated the process.
<span style="font-weight:400">Eventually, Drake sweated his way topleting the ring. Or at least a circr-shaped equivalent.
<strong>[Adequately Made Metal Band [F Grade]</strong>
<ul>
<li><strong>A ring of Metal made by a novice crafter.</strong></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><strong>It’s alright.</strong></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><strong>Increases Strength by 1%</strong></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ha! Told you I could do it!” Drake shouted in triumph.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar scoffed, crossing his arms.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Let me borrow that sandpaper now, it''s still rough around the edges…” Drake said, reaching his hand for Lamar.
<span style="font-weight:400">“No! It’s fucking mine, get your own!” he shouted back.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Come on, just for a minute! It’s my first real item I crafted, I wanna make it look good man,” Drake pleaded.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Fuck you,” Lamar spat.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Uh… what’s going on in here?” a voice said from outside the working area.
<span style="font-weight:400">Both Lamar and Drake turned their heads, Drake pulling at Lamar’s arm for the sandpaper, and Lamar shoving him away with his other.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh ire, what’s up?” Drake asked, not bothering to stop pulling.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I came to get you for dinner…” she said looking from Drake to Lamar curiously.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Tell this moron to let go, he''s trying to steal my shit!” Lamar growled.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Am not! Jesus man, I just want to <em><span style="font-weight:400">borrow</em><span style="font-weight:400"> it,” Drake spat.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s what people say then never give it back!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake was about to shout back but then titled his head, “Yeah, that’s true. Alright, fine! Keep your stupid magic sandpaper!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What are you two arguing about?” ire finally asked, walking up to Drake.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh, I finally finished my first ring,” Drake said holding up the <em><span style="font-weight:400">adequately </em><span style="font-weight:400">made piece, “I wanted to sand it down since it was my first properly made one,” Drake said.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar scoffed behind him.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Properly made….ha!” Lamar mumbled.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake ignored the sulking cyclopean and ced it in front of ire.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You want it? It doesn’t give exactly what I want in terms of stats so I wasn’t going to use it,” Drake said, pursing his lips.
<span style="font-weight:400">ire’s eyes perked up looking at the ring, her hands opening up for Drake to drop it into them.
<span style="font-weight:400">She brought the ring to her face, looking it over, a smile creasing her lips.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Can I really have it?” she asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah, don’t see why not. Like I said it doesn’t have the best stats, and I’ll give you better ones once I can make them. But hey, maybe you can get something for it in the outpost if you traded it,” Drake said casually.
<span style="font-weight:400">“No!” ire shouted, holding the ring, “Why would I give it away?!” she added, looking at the ring with stars in her eyes.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ok… that was a weird response…” Drake said, shifting on his feet, and looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">Idiot,”</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Natto mumbled.
<span style="font-weight:400">ire continued to look at the ring, before lifting up her left hand, the ring between her right pointer and thumb, as she moved it slowly to put it on her left ring finger.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Whoa whoa whoa! Stop, stop!” Drake said, grabbing the ring, “That’s not what this is for,” Drakeughed nervously.
<span style="font-weight:400">ire pouted blowing out her cheeks as her ring was taken from her.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’m just wearing it! It doesn’t mean anything….” she mumbled.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t y with me! We both know what it means on that finger!” Drake shouted.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What’s the big deal… we’re already dating…” ire said in a hushed tone, bringing her hair behind her scarlet-colored ears.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake sighed, his hand going to his forehead, “We are not… Ok I guess I did say all that stuff, and kill a bunch of people… Susmaryosep…” Drake said, huffing a long puff of air.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">God damn it. Did I trap myself into a love trope?</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake thought, looking at the fidgeting ire.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">“Duh….</em><span style="font-weight:400">” Nattoughed, “<em><span style="font-weight:400">How does one, with so much weeb experience, not realize saying all the things you did? Would result in this oue? Absolute buffoon….”</em>
<em><span style="font-weight:400">I don’t like your telling me the obvious. It’s very rude…True, but very very rude.</em><span style="font-weight:400">
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’ll give you the ring back,” Drake said looking down at ire, “But it stays <em><span style="font-weight:400">off</em><span style="font-weight:400"> that finger.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake brought the ring above ire’s hand, her face brightening again.
<span style="font-weight:400">A momentter, he spotted her bringing her right hand up this time.
<span style="font-weight:400">“No! Damn it!” Drake shouted.