Do-Jin struck right at Maglo’s homesickness. “Money isn’t the real problem here. The people in your clan must be worried sick about you.”0

“I guess they would be, ey...?”0

“Don’t give that excuse about the monster nest blocking the way. That’s just bullshit and you know it. If you really wanted to go, you could have gone. If monsters were the problem, you could have hired adventurers to deal with them.”0

Maybe those words cut deeper than intended, because Maglo’s face twisted with pain. “That’s not it... The forge has run into the red more often than not, and I still haven’t finished paying off the loans...”1

“What kind of fucking business management is that?” Do-Jin snapped.0

“I couldn’t help it. The forge tools and machinery need upgrading every quarter, and even when making something as small as a kitchen knife, the highest-grade steel has to be used to maintain quality...”0

Do-Jin finally understood. This dwarf was doomed from the start. A man like this, a craftsman obsessed with standards, was never meant to run a business. Making money was out of the question. Losing it was all he ever did.0

“Enough of the depressing story. If things keep going like this, you’ll never see your homeland again before you die. When the thought comes up, when the longing hits,...0