Chick 274

274

Let’s make a new item!

…That was the conclusion Groo finally reached, but her head was in turmoil.

‘Groo keeps getting scolded.’

At this rate, she was more a disgrace than a dutiful daughter.

The more she sat in the thinking chair reflecting in silence, the more her desire to be praised and to be of help swelled within her.

So Groo made up her mind. She would prove she wasn’t just a troublemaker!

When was the last time she had received genuine praise?

She pushed aside memories of being scolded for this or that, and tried to recall moments when she’d been praised.

‘The drone!’

When she made her first drone and tested it together with Gidan! Not only was she praised, but she was even on the news.

‘And when I made those fluffy clouds of cotton candy Groo got praised, too.’

A new item = Praise!

Groo’s eyes sparkled.

To earn praise and show filial piety, she needed something new and impressive!

She definitely wasn’t just chasing fun.

‘As it happens, there’s an event soon where I can use something.’

Groo took out her phone and searched for “exchange match.”

Countless articles brimmed with anticipation over the upcoming exchange.

[‘Eustitia Exchange Match’ Opening Soon! All Eyes on the Korea National Team Selection!]

Eustitia was an international private school foundation running awakened-person-focused campuses around the world.

Thanks to that, regular exchange matches between countries were held.

Given that Eustitia gathered the world’s most promising awakened, these exchanges were effectively rookie national battles.

Interest was so high, the event had risen to the status of a national sport.

With such prestige, it was natural for major guilds to take turns managing the Eustitia Korean national team.

And this time, it was Orchestra’s turn as manager of Team Korea.

What’s more, there were as many as three S-ranks from Eustitia: Gidan, Sergey, and Groo!

Groo hesitated, then crossed her own name off the list.

Make that two!

So it was obvious Gidan and Sergey would be picked for the team.

Groo gave a determined clench of her fist.

‘I’ll make my big brothers an incredible item so I can receive praise!’

That would make dad happy too, right?

Just as Groo smiled, feeling her plan was perfect, Joorim strode into the study.

“Groo, I have to step out, so stay at home with your aunt.”

Groo hopped down from her chair and headed to the front door to see Joorim off.

“I’ll be back. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Okaaay. Try to come back before Groo falls asleep.”

Groo gave a big smile and clung to Joorim’s arm to use her filial skill: ‘Groo’s Hand is a Healing Hand.’

“Alright.”

Feeling a surge of magic, Joorim kissed Groo on the cheek and got up to leave.

“Bye-bye!”

“Take care, Guildmaster.”

Joorim waved to Groo, bowed to Youngran, and hurried out the door.

Bang, beep-beep—

As the door closed, Groo dashed back to the study and planted herself at the workbench.

Snap! Snap! She pulled on her gloves and donned her goggles.

Fully suited up, Groo took out all her Creatator Reactors from inventory and lined them up.

Then she lowered her eyes.

She would make a new item using the Creatator Reactor!

Magic stones were the foundation of every item, and the higher the output, the better the effect.

‘But the highest grade I can make is still only C.’

Even as a C-grade, the efficiency surpassed standard, higher-grade stones—

‘But it’s not enough.’

Only with an S-grade seed potato would she receive truly sensational praise.

Groo stroked her chin.

The grades were improving little by little, but repeating the process of planting and nurturing was too inefficient.

It required waiting ages.

And even after all that waiting, the advancements didn’t always succeed.

But what if she used the oven to directly infuse filial piety points?

Perhaps she could improve the seed potato?

‘Only one way to find out!’

Groo loaded in a jet-black C-grade seed potato and turned the oven dial.

She decided to pour in a generous 100,000 filial piety points.

Woooom—

As the oven ran, the blackened seed potato began to cook.

Thump thump.

Groo’s eyes shone as she peered eagerly at the roasting potato inside.

Ding!

At last, she opened the oven.

Pfft!

With a noise like a potato breaking wind, hot juice splattered across her goggles.

Cooked potato mush dripped down her puffy cheeks beneath the goggles.

“……”

She wiped her face with a gloved hand.

[Seed Potato Burst with Filial Piety (F)]

‘Failure…!’

Groo opened her ‘Crafting Assistant for Children’ app and scanned the exploded potato.

A 3D schematic sprung onto the screen.

But the highlighted part wasn’t the reactor at the center—it was the potato skin encasing it.

When she tapped the peel, a window popped up.

Seed Potato Peel (☠): When combined with a higher-tier item, increases hardness and improves reactor efficiency.

Below that, there was info on compatible materials.

[Bone, horn, tusk, etc. from plant-type monsters of A-rank or higher…]

Groo frowned, studying her phone.

A-grade or higher byproducts weren’t easy to buy; usually one had to attend an auction.

Though famous guilds had their own supply channels, of course.

Imagining herself pestering Dad to buy materials for her item, Groo’s eyes cooled and rolled sideways.

‘No fun…’

She wanted to pull off a surprise.

She wanted to see Dad goggle at her handiwork, wide-eyed in amazement.

Being praised for such a feat would be even more thrilling!

Groo folded her arms.

‘Does that mean I need to go to a dungeon?’

Now that she knew raiding unregistered dungeons was a crime, she couldn’t just go anywhere…

Groo toddled over to the desk and booted up Joorim’s laptop.

If she had to do things properly—

‘Then I can go with the guild members!’

Normally, major guilds recruited volunteers via the company intranet and formed temporary teams to clear dungeons.

[Recruiting Temporary Dungeon Raid Team Members]

Groo spotted the post and downloaded the application form.

The format was simple, so she quickly filled in the blanks.

Name: On Groo

Rank: F

Affiliation: Nepotism

Preferred Position:

She froze at the last item.

Groo narrowed her eyes as Mephisto, next to her, tilted his head and looked at the screen, too.

What did ‘Preferred Position’ mean?

‘Preferred… career aspiration…’

Aspiration = dream.

A flash of intuition gave her the answer.

‘Groo’s dream is…!’

In ‘Preferred Position,’ Groo proudly wrote: “Supreme.”

Mephisto clapped his wings in approval.

Giggling, Groo sent in her completed form.

Less than thirty minutes later she received a rejection email.

‘Instant rejection?!’

She tried applying three or four more times…

‘Rejected.’

‘Rejected again….’

Fuming, Groo stormed into the living room, clutching her phone tightly.

“Rejected!”

Flop! She collapsed onto the couch.

Why wouldn’t anybody take her along?

She only wanted to officially participate in a dungeon raid.

‘Does this mean…’

No one needs Groo?

Having reached this gloomy conclusion, Groo sprang up and hung her head.

How disappointing.

She only wanted to be helpful to her guild and the world.

“Mephi, Bail…”

“Bee?”

Mephisto perked up; Bailach, watching TV, turned around with a sigh.

“I want to live kindly, Bail….”

“Beep beep!”

“…?”

“But the world won’t let me.”

Groo gazed up at Mephisto and Bailach, sulky.

She stomped back into the study.

Bailach, watching his master’s shadow darken as she left, scratched his ear and asked Mephisto,

“Why’d she go all dark out of nowhere?”

Mephisto, eyes wide, covered his left eye with a wing.

“Beep.” (The world rejected us.)

A question mark popped up over Bailach’s head.