Chapter 16
This was too much—even for this cursed game. How the hell could my Sucker Score go up by 15?
I expected a penalty, but this? With a score this high, just stepping outside meant I’d probably get stopped by every cult recruiter within three steps.
God… is this even a country anymore?
“Haa…”
I let out a long sigh.
But as unfair and infuriating as it was, there was nothing I could do. The system wasn’t the type to take pity on me just because I was stomping around and whining.
At least, that’s what I thought—until this popped up:
[SYSTEM] The quest ended with time still remaining. Failure penalty reduced.
Sucker Score -10
• Sucker Score: 80/100
…Wait, what?
I stared, blinking at the message, then read it again just to be sure.
It wasn’t that I didn’t understand what it meant. What stunned me was the fact that the system actually reduced a penalty for me. Since when was this game merciful?
‘Technically, yeah… I still had 9 minutes left on the clock when I bailed.’
Right after I checked the time, Paula had barged into my room. So, yeah, I guess I did quit with time remaining.
But just because I didn’t run the clock to zero, they’re going to cut me some slack?
‘Wait a second. Can I use this?’
If this is how the system behaves—if forcibly-assigned quests get lighter penalties when abandoned early—maybe I can game the system from now on.
‘This might not be bad…’
Clenching my fist with sudden determination, I realized something monumental.
I had just found a loophole in this absurd system.
“…No one around, right?”
Look left. Look right.
What was I doing? Scanning the mountains for potential voyeurs while making my way up.
‘I’m not falling for that crap again.’
That day.
The day I was caught—dancing—by strangers. It had been more than two weeks since, but the trauma lingered.
Even now, I couldn’t risk a repeat. Who knew what freak might be watching?
But after a thorough check of the area, everything seemed safe.
Maybe whoever had been spying had finally lost interest.
If so, maybe accepting Paula’s side quest hadn’t been a complete mistake…
“Whew.”
Only after confirming I was alone did I step up to the rock wall.
It had been a few days since I returned to the mine after finishing Paula’s quest.
And this… this was it. The last day.
There was a strange peace in knowing it would all end here.
Why, you ask?
“Because today is—!”
CRACK—!
A sound like a skull shattering echoed around the mine, but I didn’t care. I raised my pickaxe again and screamed:
“AAARGH! Because it’s the LAST ONE!”
CRACK—!
Yes. Just like I said.
This would be the last time I suffered the excruciating, full-body agony of mining in this godforsaken place.
[SYSTEM] Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the hidden stage: “Mana Crystal Mine”!
As the mine’s sole owner, you now possess the mining rights to all crystals found within!
“HAAAAH!”
I threw the pickaxe to the ground and let out a roar—not of pain, but triumph.
If you haven’t lived through it, you’ll never understand. But this—this was pure joy.
I was the owner now.
No one could kick me out.
These glittering, pure mana crystals—they were mine. All mine.
I was officially out of poverty. No more extorting pocket change from Madam Bier!
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
My scream of victory rang through the cave, echoing like a king’s proclamation.
And yet…
“Wait a sec…”
A new problem dawned on me.
Even with all this crystal wealth at my feet… there was one glaring issue.
‘This sucker score.’
I glanced down at the number sitting ominously at the bottom of my status window: 80.
No recent events, no distractions—just endless pickaxing. So of course, it hadn’t budged.
And at this level?
The moment I set foot outside, every con man, swindler, and smooth-talking merchant would smell me from miles away and strip me to the bone.
‘If I want to sell these, I have to lower that score.’
But how?
I’d already scoured the entire duchy under the pretext of Paula’s side quest, hoping to find some workaround.
Unfortunately, with my miserable base stats, I could only access high-difficulty quests I had zero chance of completing.
Wreck stuff? Insult servants? Extort the housekeeper? Curse the air?
I’d tried it all—and barely moved the needle.
Apparently, unless my actions were diabolically creative, the system wouldn’t even register them anymore.
‘So now what?’
Go out there anyway?
But if I did, the moment I ran into one of those “sucker detectors”…
“Ohoho! Mana Crystal Mine, you say? What a fine asset! I’ll buy it for a very generous price—let’s say a 90/10 split, hm?”
“So I get 90%?”
“Oh no, dear. You get 10%! Quite the deal, yes? Also, the contract lasts until death. Or, well, three generations. Whichever comes first!”
My skin crawled just imagining it.
It felt like I was reliving every time those con artists had fleeced me blind.
“…It’s gonna happen. It will happen.”
I chuckled bitterly.
Of course. Arc wasn’t a game that let you win easily.
The system had never handed me anything on a silver platter.
The grueling days of mining alone proved that.
‘So what now?’
Owning the mine was great and all, but if I couldn’t sell anything, it meant squat.
Back when I was just a player, I could walk into any sketchy alley shop and dump my mana crystals for a quick profit.
Now? I was stuck.
Then suddenly—
[SYSTEM] A sudden quest has arrived! As Bregenz Empire’s top villainess, even your first trade partner must be carefully chosen!
Attend the high-trust Spring Ball and secure a client for your mana crystals.Quest Conditions:
Infiltrate the Spring Ball
Complete a trade worth at least 10 million dalings
Rewards:
• +5 to Elegance, Intelligence, and Charm
• +10 million dalings to personal wealth
• Secret reward
“…Huh?”
This now? Now?
Sure, I’d planned to sneak into the palace eventually, but I knew there’d be penalties.
The system kindly answered my unspoken concern:
[SYSTEM] If you fail, all crystals mined from your Mana Crystal Mine will only sell for 50% of market value for the next 6 months.
At that, my teeth clenched so hard I thought I’d chip one.
But I couldn’t bring myself to hit “Decline.”
Why?
Because despite being a sudden quest, this was exactly what I needed right now.
And Arc… was a game where every quest was connected in some tangled, absurdly realistic web.
That meant there was a chance I could get even more from this ball.
Of course, I might get royally screwed instead.
But I was an adventure-type player.
And I didn’t choose that path for nothing.
“…Let’s do it.”
I hit “Accept.”
Because adventure was the only thing I’d ever truly been good at.
