"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Jack blinked at me, face blank.
"You heard me. I want to invest in your future company," I said, casually flipping a silver coin in the air like I was some noble with too much money and too little sense.
Jack blinked again. Once. Twice. Then he dropped the hammer in his hand with a loud clang.
"ARE YOU A SECRET NOBLE?!"
There it is.
I smirked. "No."
"Then... is this a prank? Is there a hidden camera? Is this part of a bet you made with your rich friends to 'adopt a failed blacksmith project'?"
He was spiraling. Truly beautiful to watch. His hands were flailing now, gesturing to the forge like it was some cursed site.
"You do know this place was called the 'Iron Joke' by critics, right?"
"I'm aware."
"And I've failed three guild weapon certifications in a row."
"That's not your fault. That's the guild being blind."
"Okay now I know you're insane. Who put you up to this? Is this some advanced scam? Am I being recruited into a cult?"
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the grin. His reaction was even better than I imagined. Chaos truly is an art.
Finally, I raised a hand to stop the ranting. "Jack. Breathe."
He stopped mid-sentence. "...I forgot how to do that."
I waited.
He inhaled. Exhaled.
"Look, I'm serious," I said, now speaking in a calmer tone. "I believe in you. I've seen your work. That sword you forged? It's top class. Best balance I've felt in a blade. You said it yourself—your weapons are the real deal."
Jack blinked again. But this time, slower. The disbelief was still there, but now it was battling with something more vulnerable. Hope.
"But… why me?" he asked softly. "No one believes in me. Not the guild. Not the merchants. Not even my old master. So why would you?"
"Even my uncle thinks I should've become a baker. And I'm allergic to gluten!"
I chuckled. "Of course, it had to be you. Because you care. Because your forge isn't just about steel—it's about soul. And more importantly..."
Alex looked at him dead in the eye. "Because you said it. 'Your weapons are the real deal.' And guess what? You were right. They're the best I've ever handled."
A lump formed in Jack's throat.
Alex continued, smiling. "And I believe in you. Not just the guy who makes swords, but the guy who's going to build the best damn forge this city's ever seen."
He gave a half-laugh, half-snort, clearly still trying to process it all.
Internally, I was laughing too—but for a very different reason.
'Ethan Williams said the exact same words to Jack in the game… word for word. I'm literally quoting the protagonist like a fanboy.'
Still… he glanced at the swords displayed around the forge. The quality really was top-notch. Clean edges, balanced cores, the kind of craftsmanship that whispered masterpiece with every shimmer.
But even with all the meta-humor swimming in my head, one thing remained true: Jack's craftsmanship was the real deal.
**
The deal-making began.
"Alright," Jack said, suddenly business-like as he wiped his face on his soot-stained apron. "Let's talk numbers."
He pulled out a thick parchment scroll with a half-formed contract template. Legal runes flickered on the surface.
"Looks... official," I muttered.
"It's from GuildContractors.gov. Totally legit," Jack added helpfully.
Alex squinted. "So many words…"
' Where's my lawyer? Oh right, I'm broke and this is a game world. '
They sat down at the table as Jack scribbled updates into the contract.
Legal terms. Percentages. Subsections. Clauses.
Then Alex stated his conditions.
"Alright. Here's the deal. I invest one million credits now for 40% equity in Klassen Forgeworks. You also give me exclusive access to any new weapons or custom projects."
Jack nodded slowly, taking notes.
"Also," I continued, "In one year, I'll give you another five million credits."
He choked. "F-Five million?!"
"If you keep delivering quality like that blade, it's worth it. But I want one more thing."
He narrowed his eyes. "What? A secret blood pact? My future firstborn?"
"No, nothing that dramatic. I want priority service. If I request a weapon—even if it's during a festival, a fire, or your wedding—you drop everything and work on mine first."
"so In exchange for forty percent equity, exclusive weapon access, and… top forging priority regardless of client rank or nobility status?"
"Exactly."
Jack blinked. Then shrugged. "Yeah, okay. I wasn't planning on getting married anyway."
Alex started laughing.
"Anything else?"
Alex tapped his chin. "Hmm. Yeah, add this: any unique or prototype weapons must be discussed with me before being sold or shown to others. I want first dibs."
Jack raised a brow, then nodded. "Fair enough. Done."
Inwardly jack was also thinking about the contract.
' Even though it looks like alex is making excessive demands but it is nothing excessive he just wants first priority in my every work which also makes me happy.'
' Even though giving 40% stake was not something I exactly had in my mind but alex giving me a starting point and more importantly he believes in me so it's exactly not big of a deal after all he's also risking his money. '
He looked at alex face and he wondered why does it looks like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.
Then suddenly alex said.
"Oh, and one last condition."
"There's more?!"
"I get to name your first prototype model line."
He groaned. "You're going to name it something dumb, aren't you?"
I grinned. "Behold: 'The Dragonheart God slayer Series.'"
"...That actually sounds cool. Dammit."
We shook hands, and just like that—the deal was sealed.
With a final rune-etched seal, the contract pulsed with a faint golden light and scattered towards both of them.
And a mana contract was formed if any of them broke the contract the mana inside them will go berserk and they will explode.
A mana contract is absolute with no way out.
With that Alex Dragonheart has officially became a Investor in Klassen Forgeworks.
Alex opened his EtherPad and transferred the funds with a few taps.
[Transaction Complete – 1,000,000 Credits Sent to Jack Klassen]
Jack looked at the confirmation and nearly collapsed. "It's real… it's actually real."
**
Just as we were wrapping up, a deep scoffing sound echoed across the forge.
A burly blacksmith from across the street, arms crossed, sneered.
"Look at that. Rich kid throwing credits at a failed forge. Probably never even swung a real sword."
Jack stiffened beside me, fists clenched. His expression twisted with shame and fury.
I, on the other hand, just slowly reached for the blade Jack had handed me earlier.
"Say that again," I said.
The blacksmith snorted. "Did I stutter? You're wasting your—"
FWOOOSH.
With one smooth motion, I slashed horizontally toward the enchanted steel dummy nearby.
There was no mana. No skill. No enhancement.
Just cold, flawless steel and craftsmanship.
The dummy split cleanly in half. A perfect, silent cut. The top half slid off and hit the ground with a metallic thud.
The blacksmith's jaw? On the floor.
"What… what kind of alloy is that?"
"The kind you'll never get your hands on," I said.
Jack's face lit up brighter than the forge flames.
We turned back inside, high on victory and smugness. The papers were signed. The forge was officially in business.
"I—y'know what? Forget the C-rank sword you ordered. I'm giving you something better."
He ducked into the back and returned with a blade wrapped in dark leather. "This here is an A-rank sword, enchanted with Auto-Sharpening, Mana Stabilization, and Shock Dampening."
"Seriously?"
Jack grinned. "Consider it a bonus for believing in me."
Alex whistled and unsheathed it. The blade glowed faintly, its edge perfect. He swung it once—light, balanced, deadly.
"Damn, I'm in love."
Jack laughed, a rare bright sound. "Thanks, Alex. You have no idea what this means to me."
Alex smiled and slung the sword over his shoulder. "Oh, I have a pretty good idea."
"You really meant it," Jack said quietly.
"I did. Now go make me something ridiculous. Maybe a dual-mode transforming spear-hammer."
Jack started laughing at the joke.
"...You're insane. I like it."
**
Later that night, I walked home, a grin plastered on my face.
Investing in a company? Check.
Exclusive weapon access? Check.
Making a protagonist-tier blacksmith owe me his future? Checkmate.
This world may not have lawyers, but damn if I wasn't playing it like a businessman from Earth.
As I stepped through my apartment door, a notification pinged in my vision.
As my etherPad hummed with a notification.
[Zenith Academy Entrance Exam – Final Notice: 2 Days Left. Be Prepared.]
I stopped.
Smiled wider.
'Well then… it's almost showtime.'