Ch 2. Dropping the Hammer

If you ever die and wake up with a system, remember: no matter what happens, ALWAYS avoid pissing it off. Your life depends on it. Literally!

That is the first lesson I learned the hard way. 

I won’t bore you with all the details of the crappy life Wrenn Dorn had before I arrived. He has a sobby backstory that will take me forever to explain the depths of it all. 

Just know that he— I —is a nobody. A nobody with a lot of muscles. 

I stand in front of a forge, surrounded by smoldering coals and glowing red-hot metal. The sound of fire crackles and pops as the metal melts. 

Raising the hammer above my head, I stare at the veins bulging out from my muscles. The hammer has always been Wrenn’s best friend— his only friend. He loves it as much as I love women, and that’s what I call the difference between a boy and a man.

Despite his muscular build, Wrenn is still a boy. Barely reaching nineteen this year, he never had a girlfriend or even a fling. The one time he liked a girl, it was a bust because he never even bothered to ask her out.

“Hey! Wrenn! Are you daydreaming? Start pounding the metal until it cools off!”

Startled by the loud voice, I drop the hammer. Luckily, I step aside in time to avoid the falling heavy weight. 

The agility of my new body impresses me. I can’t wait to put it to use. And not in a smithy. 

“What’s wrong with you? You seem off today, Wrenn.”

I turn around to find Aslan, the master blacksmith, staring at me. His gray eyes are piercing, and his black beard is tied in a neat ponytail. How does he manage to stay so close to the forge without getting the tips singed? 

“I had a little cramp, nothing more. I’ll get to work on the blade.”

After I gather the hammer from the floor and turn back to the anvil, I find myself searching through my newly acquired memories. Knowing everything the real Wrenn did will prove to be helpful in the long run. 

Clang! Clang! Clang! I continue to hammer away at the metal, a smile playing on my lips. It’s exciting to know that I can do this. Maybe in this Harem Multiverse, I can get to be whatever I want. 

In the upper left corner of my left eye, text flashes by in bold letters.

[Acquiring Main Task]

[Main Task Acquired: Become the next king of Zhenaria]

Clang! My hammer drops to the anvil, and instead of hitting the metal, it makes contact with the tip of my finger.

“Fuck!” I cry out between clenched teeth, dropping the hammer and stumbling backward. I look down at my finger. The pain is excruciating.

“Wrenn!” Aslan stares me down, but I’m too preoccupied with my throbbing finger. “When did you start swearing like that? I never heard you before, and it’s not like this is the first time you hit a finger.”

Of course I can remember all the times Wrenn injured himself while learning the craft of blacksmithing, but those are just memories; the pain back then was not mine to bear. 

“Go put the finger in a bucket of water. You know the drill,” Aslan continues with his arms folded over his barrel chest. “Then come back and help me with the carvings on the handle. I’ll do the blade.”

With the clanging of the hammer in the background, I sit down on a log and plunge my aching finger into the bucket of water. 

Fucking system! Starting to write before my eyes right when I was supposed to be hammering the damned thing. 

[Searching for audio track]

[Data acquired]

[Daddy?! Daddy?!]

The same cute voice I heard before I died, the voice of the woman in the parking lot. I look left and right, but the words come from inside my mind.

[Yes, daddy! I’m here. Inside you]

A tremor shakes my entire body, and I almost fall off the log. 

Don’t ever say that again, creepy system! It’s you, right?

[Of course, daddy! I’ll use audio in the future to prevent further injuries to the user]

Stop calling me daddy or user. My name is David fucking McConnell. How about you? Should I keep calling you system? 

[System is the most correct and accurate name for me. Even if I had a name, I would still not tell you, daddy fucking user]

Is there any way to get rid of you and get a new system?

[New side task acquired: Make a woman fall in love with you]

Are you ignoring me again? 

[...]

Well, I appreciate the silence. 

Much to my surprise, the system, which previously responded with snarky comments at my every thought, keeps silent. This may be an improvement, or it may as well use the time to cook up something else to piss me off. 

Since it knows everything that crosses my mind and I can’t get rid of it, I’d better not get too cocky and make things worse. 

I get up and start walking toward the workbench where the handle is. Focusing on work and ignoring the main task until I get the hang of things is a good idea. 

My fingers are pretty handy with the chisel as the cut goes smooth and precise. With just a bit of force, the wood begins to take shape. I make sure the edges are clean and not sharp to harm the wielder's skin.

When Aslan comes with the blade, he nods at the handle and starts to insert the metallic hilt in the gap I created inside the middle of the handle’s lower part. 

Once the process is finished and the sword is ready, Aslan whooshes it in the air like a skilled knight before putting it in the leather scabbard. 

“Do you know the house with a crooked roof just beyond the western wall and up the hill?” he asks as he flips the sheathed sword and nudges me to take it. “The widow living there commissioned this sword, identical to the one of her late husband. Bring it to her before the storm comes.”

We both glance at the sky beyond the smithy’s angled roof at the gathering dark clouds. 

Oh, there’s another thing I almost forgot. When dark purple storm clouds roll in, you should take shelter inside. Anyone out there left in the storm is never seen again.