He walked toward the sound of the hammer.

  He reached the heavy wooden door of the smithy and reached out to grab the iron handle.

  Buzz.

  A crimson hexagonal barrier flashed into existence, hovering mere inches from his fingertips. It pulsed with a rejecting force.

  ──────?????──────

  [ System Notice ]

  [ Interaction Restricted. ]

  [ NPC Interactions and Shop Access are disabled until Global Launch. ]

  [ Time Remaining: 48:04 ]

  ──────?????──────

  Ryn pulled his hand back, the barrier fading as he stepped away.

  "Fair enough," Ryn muttered.

  It was a standard developer move. They locked the shops to prevent early birds or glitch-users from monopolizing the economy before the masses arrived. It ensured everyone started the race at the same time.

  "That means I either have to wait," he mused. "Or go and punch some slimes."

  He looked at the red barrier again. Then, he shrugged.

  "Or I could just stop being a player."

  He focused inward. He tapped into the unique sensation that sat at the core of his 'soul', the bridge between the data and the reality.

  [ Echo of Genesis: Native Mode ]

  Shimmer.

  The change was subtle. The blue tint of the System interface in his peripheral vision vanished. The "Name Tags" floating above the distant NPCs faded away.

  He wasn't Player 'Zero' anymore. He was simply Ryn, a local.

  He reached out and grabbed the door handle again.

  The cold iron felt solid against his palm. The red barrier remained dormant.

  "Thought so," he smiled.

  He pushed the door open.

  Clang.

  A blast of heat hit him, carrying the sharp, metallic scent of coal. The rhythmic ringing of a hammer on an anvil filled the small, cluttered space. Racks of iron swords, axes, and shields lined the walls.

  In the center of the room, standing before a roaring forge, was a mountain of a man.

  He was bald, his scalp glistening with sweat. His arms were as thick as tree trunks. He wore a heavy leather apron over a simple tunic.

  The blacksmith swung his hammer one last time, sparks flying like fireflies, before plunging a glowing blade into a bucket of oil.

  Hiss.

  Steam filled the room. The blacksmith wiped his forehead with a rag and turned around.

  Usually, an NPC would ignore a visitor until they approached the counter.

  But as the blacksmith's eyes landed on Ryn, he paused.

  The man's rugged face softened. His eyes, usually hard as flint, widened with a strange warmth.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  [ Passive Effect: 'Universal Respect' Active. ]

  "Well now," the blacksmith boomed, his voice deep and gravelly. "I didn't hear the door. Welcome, traveler."

  He walked behind the counter, leaning his massive hands on the wood.

  "I am Boldar. How can this humble smith help a soul such as yours? A sword maybe?"

  Ryn suppressed a smile.

  'Universal Respect is quite the cheat code,' he thought. 'He's treating a Level 1 nobody like a visiting dignitary.'

  Ryn stepped forward, lowering his hood slightly.

  "Greetings, Master Boldar," Ryn said smoothly. "I have a request. But I am not here to buy a sword."

  Boldar raised a thick eyebrow. "Oh? Armor then? Repairs?"

  Ryn shook his head.

  "I want to learn," Ryn said. "Please, teach me how to smith. I can pay for the lessons if you want."

  Boldar blinked. He stared at Ryn, completely taken aback.

  "You... want to learn smithing?" Boldar asked, sounding confused. "Young man, I can sense the potential in your soul. You are built for the battlefield, not for sweating over a hot forge."

  Boldar gestured to the rack of weapons behind him.

  "If you need a blade, just say the word. For someone with your... presence... I would be honored to gift you my finest work. Take whatever you wish."

  Ryn felt a jolt of surprise. 'Free gear? Just like that?'

  Most players would kill for a high-quality starter weapon. It would make the early game a breeze.

  But Ryn shook his head.

  "No, Master Boldar. I have to refuse."

  "Why?" Boldar frowned. "Is my steel not good enough?"

  "Your steel is excellent," Ryn corrected him. "But that's the point."

  Ryn walked up to the counter. He ran a finger along the edge of a display dagger, his expression turning serious.

  "Buying a weapon is easy. But if I buy it, I'm just a user. If it breaks, I'm helpless," Ryn said calmly. "I want to be able to create my own power. That way, I never have to rely on anyone else."

  Boldar went still.

  The blacksmith looked at the young man. He processed the words.

  Slowly, a wide, genuine grin spread across Boldar's bearded face.

  "To create your own power..." Boldar chuckled deeply. "Hah. I haven't heard an adventurer say something that good in twenty years."

  Boldar slammed his hand on the counter.

  "Good! Very good!" he roared happily. "I thought you were just another glory-seeker. But you have the mindset of a true Master!"

  He reached under the counter and tossed a heavy leather apron toward Ryn.

  "I won't take your coin, lad. But I will take your sweat," Boldar grinned. "Put that on. I'll teach you everything I know."

  Ryn caught the apron. He bowed his head slightly.

  "Thank you, Teacher," Ryn said. "I'm in your care."

  He then tied the heavy leather apron around his waist. It smelled of grease and charcoal.

  "Listen well," Boldar grunted, handing him a pair of heavy iron tongs. "Smithing requires patience. So watch me carefully."

  Boldar picked up a rough iron ingot. He thrust it into the coals, his eyes locked on the metal.

  "You have to watch the color," Boldar explained, his voice gruff but patient. "Dark red is too cold. White is too hot. You want a bright, singing orange. That is when the metal yields."

  Ryn watched intently. He observed how Boldar turned the metal, ensuring even heat distribution. He watched the rhythm of the hammer strikes — tap, strike, tap, strike — using the rebound to maintain momentum.

  'The physics engine...' Ryn analyzed silently. 'It is almost identical to the Tower of Trials.'

  In the previous game, crafting was a necessary survival mechanic. Good weapons were rare, and repairing them was expensive. Therefore, he had spent countless sleepless nights at the anvil, eventually reaching the rank of a Grandmaster Smith. He had even cracked the Top 30 Blacksmith rankings globally — a fact few people knew because he never sold his creations.

  'The timing, the color shifts, the sound... it feels the same.'

  "Now you try," Boldar said, stepping back and gesturing to the anvil. "Heat it. Flatten it. Don't rush."

  Ryn nodded. He took the tongs and picked up a fresh ingot.

  He placed it in the fire. He waited, watching the metal glow. The moment it turned that specific shade of bright orange, he pulled it out.

  He moved to the anvil and raised the hammer.

  His body was new, weak, and unconditioned. But his mind remembered the rhythm.

  Clang.

  He struck the center.

  Clang. Clang.

  He let the hammer do the work, using gravity and the anvil's bounce to save his stamina. He turned the metal with the tongs, shaping the rough lump into a flat, even bar.

  "Hold on..." Boldar muttered, walking closer.

  He watched Ryn work. The boy's posture was relaxed, almost lazy, yet every movement was precise. There was no wasted energy. It... It almost looked like a Grandsmith working in his smithy!

  And just like that, fifteen minutes flew by.

  Ryn plunged the flattened bar into the cooling water.

  Hiss.

  Steam rose up, obscuring his face for a moment. He pulled the cooled bar out and placed it on the counter.

  "Like this, Teacher?" Ryn asked, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

  Boldar picked up the bar. He inspected the grain. It was smooth, free of cracks, and tempered evenly. It was better than what most apprentices produced after three months of training.

  "You have good eyes," Boldar muttered, looking impressed. "Most novices hammer it too hard and crack the edges. You... you handled it naturally."

  "I just copied exactly what you did," Ryn said with a modest smile.

  "Hah! If only everyone could copy this well, I'd be out of a job," Boldar laughed, slapping Ryn on the shoulder. "You have talent, kid. Real talent."

  Ryn smiled, accepting the praise. Internally, he felt relieved. His gaming experience translated perfectly to this new world.

  Suddenly, a cascade of blue windows filled his vision.

  ──────?????──────

  [ Achievement: Rapid Learner ]

  [....]