Location: ???
The surroundings were dimly lit, yet swallowed by darkness.
Silence dominated the area so completely that even the sound of a small toy falling would have echoed loudly. Wooden crates and storage chests filled every corner it looked unmistakably like an abandoned warehouse.
Within that heavy silence, a voice finally spoke.
Lucifer: Would you like to join us?
Revenant froze in surprise.
A Great Demon… inviting a human to work together?
Before he could respond, Hana immediately turned toward Lucifer.
Hana: You're seriously inviting the wielder of that disgusting weapon… and that cowboy wannabe to join us?
That single sentence struck a nerve.
Revenant's expression hardened.
He never tolerated insults toward cowboys.
Since childhood, he had admired them.
Humanity had long forgotten the era of cowboys, but Revenant came from a family obsessed with collecting books. The subject never mattered history, myths, fiction everything had value.
Among those books was one about the Wild West.
Revenant found it when he was only four years old.
His mother noticed how fascinated he was and began reading it to him every night.
From that day onward, he had only one dream
To become a cowboy.
And somehow…
He had achieved it.
Lucifer: Watch your mouth. This man succeeded in retrieving a relic protected by the most dangerous individual alive.
The relic Revenant stole had been guarded by Arthur.
A being so overwhelmingly powerful that even someone capable of bending reality itself would hesitate to challenge him.
Arthur existed on an entirely different level a guardian beyond conventional understanding.
Lucifer continued calmly.
Lucifer: If you join me, you won't need to chase money anymore. Instead of exhausting yourself with endless missions… you'll earn comfortably every single day.
Revenant's philosophy was simple.
Where money existed-
Revenant followed.
Revenant: Let's say I join you. What exactly would I be doing?
Lucifer smiled faintly.
But behind that smile, his eyes burned with unmistakable bloodlust.
Lucifer: We're going on an island visit.
His final words echoed softly through the darkness.
It almost sounded as if Revenant and Lucifer were about to become allies.
But if we return to the Sacred Temple
More specifically…
Sacred Temple - Bob's Forge
Barrels, materials, tools, and random equipment cluttered the workshop.
The heat was unbearable.
Sweat-inducing. Suffocating.
Metallic clangs echoed every three seconds the rhythmic sound of hammer striking steel. Someone was clearly forging a weapon.
Between those steady impacts, another voice emerged.
Jack: Arthur… abandoned me… in a place this hot…
Jack was drenched in sweat. His black sports clothes clung to his body from the heat.
But he wasn't the only one suffering.
CLANG!
A louder strike rang out.
Bob: I'm gonna die! But it's worth it for that car!
Blacksmiths were usually accustomed to extreme temperatures.
Bob, however, clearly was not.
Jack: So… what do you do in your free time?
Bob continued hammering without breaking focus.
Bob: I keep journals.
Jack: Oh? What kind of journals?
Bob grinned mischievously, barely holding back laughter.
Bob: Obviously records and ratings of every beautiful woman I see.
Jack stared at him with the expression of someone whose soul had momentarily left their body.
Not shocked.
Just disappointed.
Jack: You might actually be the biggest pervert I've ever met…
Bob immediately raised his voice.
Bob: What?! Is it my fault they're beautiful?!
He continued working when suddenly a phone ringtone echoed through the forge.
Jack casually lifted his phone.
Jack: Hello, police? Yes, I'm currently with a pervert-
Before he could finish-
CRASH!
Bob smashed the phone with his hammer.
The device hit the floor and shattered completely, cracks spreading across the ground itself.
The screen was utterly destroyed.
Jack's eyes twitched in anger.
Jack: What did my phone ever do to you?!
Bob: You don't call the police in here!
Bob sighed deeply, then pointed behind Jack.
Bob: Your weapon needs its final touch.
Jack was still mourning his phone but turned toward him anyway.
Jack: What does it need?
Bob walked toward him, resting the hammer on the ground.
Suddenly, the hammer began extending.
Bob rose upward using it like an elevator, stopping only when he reached Jack's height.
Bob: Paint. And an energy core.
Jack: …What?
Bob: If you want a weapon to become technique-compatible, an energy core is essential.
Jack tilted his head curiously.
Jack: What's the paint for?
Unable to gesture properly with the hammer hand, Bob raised his free hand and flipped his middle finger proudly.
Bob: Because it looks cool.
Jack's patience reached critical levels.
Jack: What's the weapon called?
Bob's grin widened as the hammer slowly shortened and his feet touched the ground again.
He looked directly at Jack.
Bob: Disaster Bringer.
He paused dramatically.
Bob: It's a combat gauntlet. Covers half your armalmost like armor. You can wear it or deploy it like a weapon.