The city's plaza was alive with noise—beastkin merchants shouting prices, street performers juggling fire, and a shady-looking elf selling "holy relics" that were definitely stolen spoons.
Yomen walked beside Gilbert, feeling pretty good about tomorrow's Adventurer Exam… until Gilbert casually dropped a verbal nuke.
"Oh, by the way, you need 1,000 aura just to sign up for the exam."
Yomen stopped mid-step.
"…Run that by me again?"
"One. Thousand. Aura," Gilbert repeated. "No aura, no entry. Even a bottom-tier familia won't take you without it."
Yomen squinted.
"And you were going to tell me this when, exactly?"
Gilbert shrugged.
"I assumed you knew. It's common knowledge here."
Yomen pointed at himself.
"Does this look like the face of a man who has 'common knowledge' about fantasy land? I spawned in yesterday, and my welcoming gift was a judge trying to vaporize me."
Gilbert didn't look the least bit guilty.
"Hey, I'm just saying—it's the rule. Mid-tier familias are even worse. They want proof of strength and high aura. High-tier? Forget it. You have better chances of kissing a goddess."
"So, if I join a low-tier familia…" Yomen started.
Gilbert grinned like he'd been waiting for that question.
"Well, statistically speaking, your life expectancy will be… under a year."
(Fantastic. Poor squad equals early grave. Rich squad equals impossible entry. Love this system.)
"Alright," Yomen said at last. "How do I farm aura?"
"Work, quests, monster hunts… but all that takes weeks, and you've got less than a day."
"Then I'll speedrun it."
Gilbert snorted.
"You can't speedrun aura. People only give it to you if they really like something you did. You entertain them, they donate. That's it. And even then, it's usually just a few points at a time."
Yomen smirked.
"For normal people, maybe."
Gilbert raised an eyebrow.
"…What do you mean?"
The Reveal
Yomen leaned in, lowering his voice.
"I've got an ability. It lets me get aura when I make people feel strong emotions—laughter, fear, awe, anything. Doesn't matter if they donate."
Gilbert blinked. Then blinked again.
"…That's impossible. The only way that happens is with a—wait. You mean… a blessing?"
"Yeah. The Clown Blessing."
Gilbert froze, then burst out laughing so loud people turned to stare.
"The Clown? I've never heard of that! I bet it's some trash-tier, unheard-of blessing! You can literally buy a better hat than that skill!"
Yomen grinned.
"Trash-tier? I can farm aura like crazy with it."
Gilbert stopped laughing when he realized something.
"Wait… how the hell did you even get a blessing? You either roll for them with 100,000 aura—and the good ones are insanely rare—or…"
"Or?"
"…One of the gods gave it to you because they found you interesting."
Yomen tilted his head.
"Like a gacha pity pull?"
Gilbert squinted.
"Like a what?"
Yomen waved it off.
"Never mind."
The Plan
Gilbert crossed his arms.
"Alright, so if it's real… how does it work?"
"Simple. I make people laugh, scream, or cry, I get aura. But there's a catch—it only works when I'm in real danger. Like, life-on-the-line danger."
Gilbert's face twisted.
"So, you're telling me your plan to get 1,000 aura in one night is… nearly dying for an audience?"
"Exactly."
Gilbert sighed.
"…You're insane."
The Show
Ten minutes later, Yomen was at the center of the plaza, balancing on a rickety ladder with three rotting watermelons and a burning torch.
"Ladies and gentle-orcs!" he shouted. "Prepare yourselves for the most dangerous summoning ritual ever attempted!"
Gilbert stood in the crowd, face in his hands.
(He's actually doing it…)
Yomen began juggling the watermelons while holding the torch in his mouth. The ladder wobbled violently. The crowd gasped.
+12 Aura (Concern)
+18 Aura (Panic)
+20 Aura (Horrified Curiosity)
Then he pretended to lose his balance. People screamed. A furry fainted. Yomen launched himself from the ladder, sliced all three melons mid-air with a borrowed sword, and landed in a crouch.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Aura poured in like a waterfall.
Gilbert ran up, eyes wide.
"You're at… 1,000 aura. Exactly. You actually did it."
Yomen dusted himself off.
"Told you. Easy."
Then—ding.
A faint system message appeared in his mind:
[Clown Blessing deactivated. Danger threshold not met.]
Yomen froze.
(Uh-oh.)
Gilbert noticed his face.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Yomen lied. "Totally fine."
(Great. Now my cheat is on cooldown. And tomorrow, I have to face the Adventurer Exam without it. Fantastic.)