Chapter 446 - 445: Signature

Chapter 446: Chapter 445: Signature

Luna Jacobs froze for a moment, then snorted with laughter.

"Credit?" She put down the blueprint, leaned back, and crossed her legs. "You think I’ve got nothing better to do? In this crappy place, what good would signing my name even do?"

She waved her hand dismissively, a look of distaste on her face. "Forget it. I just want to lay low and stay quiet. Just being alive is good enough for me. All that pointless fame means nothing to me."

Seraphina Sinclair watched her, saying nothing.

Luna Jacobs grew a little uncomfortable under her stare and rubbed her nose. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"No." Seraphina Sinclair looked away, her gaze falling to the blueprint in her hands. Her tone was mild. "How about using Artemis for the credit? Or your real name?"

Luna Jacobs froze.

"Huh?"

She sat up straight, uncrossing her legs, and stared at Seraphina Sinclair with an expression that screamed, ’Are you out of your mind?’

"Did you not hear a single thing I just said?" She pointed at her own nose. "I, Luna Jacobs, do not want to be credited. Got it?"

Seraphina Sinclair looked up at her, her expression unchanging and her tone still mild. "I get it."

"Then why are you still—"

"But you’re the one who modified this blueprint," Seraphina Sinclair cut her off. "You spent days on it, poured your energy into it, and you finished it. Why shouldn’t you take credit for it?"

Luna Jacobs opened her mouth but was momentarily at a loss for words.

Seraphina Sinclair looked down at the blueprint, her fingers gently tracing the faint golden patterns along the edge. "It bears the marks of your carving, of your sweat and tears. If you don’t take the credit, they’ll just pin it on me, and I never take credit for someone else’s work."

Luna Jacobs opened her mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed her words.

Seraphina Sinclair pushed the blueprint toward her. "As for who gets the credit, you decide. Artemis, Luna Jacobs, or any other alias—it’s up to you. But you have to sign it."

She stood up and looked down at the stunned Luna Jacobs. "You helped me, and I can’t let you do it for nothing. This blueprint is your creation; it should bear your name. In the future, when the Black Fog Lamp is in circulation, every time someone reads the Description, they’ll be reminded that a person named Luna Jacobs improved this design."

Luna Jacobs stared at Seraphina Sinclair’s earnest face for a long moment before finally looking away.

’Damn it, how can she be so charismatic?!’

Luna Jacobs cursed inwardly.

It wasn’t a real curse, more like the kind of exclamation that pops into your head when someone’s hit a nerve, a subconscious attempt to cover up your flustered state.

She lowered her eyes, staring at the blueprint for a long time.

The faint golden patterns on its surface shimmered with a soft luster in the light. She had spent days carving them out, stroke by painstaking stroke.

She remembered every line, every single cut of the knife. She knew where the work had gone smoothly, where she had struggled, and where she had revised the design over and over again until it finally took its current form.

Back then, she had just been focused on getting the work done, not thinking about anything else.

She was a puppet, after all. This was a task from her boss, so of course she had to do it well.

As for taking credit, Luna Jacobs had wanted to at first.

She was too proud a person; even as a puppet, she wasn’t willing to let her own mark on the world be buried.

The moment she picked up the carving knife, the moment she etched the first line, the moment she watched those golden patterns take shape bit by bit—she had thought about it.

Once the modifications were done, she would leave her name on this blueprint.

So that everyone who used this blueprint in the future would know that it was she, Luna Jacobs, who had improved it.

But then, as she worked and worked, she simply forgot. Not that she forgot about taking credit, but she forgot that she even cared about it in the first place.

That was the terrifying thing about being a puppet.

But thankfully, her boss had remembered for her.

As for being turned into a puppet, Luna Jacobs had long since made her peace with it. After all, people who don’t court death don’t die. If she hadn’t been so greedy for that one thing back then, she wouldn’t have ended up in this predicament.

What’s past was past. Everything started from now.

Luna Jacobs smiled. She took the blueprint from Seraphina Sinclair, her gaze falling to the golden patterns as her fingers gently traced the edge.

"Let’s go with Luna Jacobs, then," she said, her voice a little more serious than before. "I’ll use my real name."

After Luna Jacobs handled the blueprint, Seraphina Sinclair checked its Description again. The previous line of text had vanished, and in its place, a new line of credit had been added at the bottom.

[Engraving & Improvements: Luna Jacobs]

Seraphina Sinclair gazed at the line of text, the corners of her lips curling up a little more.

She stowed the blueprint and looked up at Luna Jacobs.

Luna Jacobs had already picked up another blueprint and was studying it intently, putting on an air of "I’m very busy, don’t bother me." But Seraphina Sinclair noticed her posture was a little more upright than before, and her shoulders were more relaxed. She was no longer slouching against the table with that typical devil-may-care attitude.

Seraphina Sinclair looked away and sat down opposite her, beginning to diligently draw runes.

She had been using the firework launcher constantly of late. The more monsters she killed, the more runes she consumed.

For the past few days, Seraphina Sinclair had practically no reserves, drawing new runes almost as fast as she used them.

For a while, the mobile cabin was quiet.

The only sounds were the scratching of the rune pen on rune paper, occasionally punctuated by the SHUFFLE of Luna Jacobs flipping through her blueprints and the faint whimpers of the Gloom Hatchling as it turned over in its nest.

The Sunflower was still sprawled across the blanket, its huge head tilted slightly. Its golden glow spread evenly throughout the room, bathing everything in a warm hue.

If not for the churning black fog outside, it would have felt just like a peaceful afternoon.

But the peace lasted only a moment before it was ruthlessly shattered by the return of 001. "Master! Master! I got something amazing, you’re definitely going to need this!"

Seraphina Sinclair’s hand faltered, the rune pen dragging a crooked line across the paper.

She glanced down at the ruined rune paper, then looked up, her face expressionless.

had already burst into the room. It was cupping something in its hands, holding it out to Seraphina Sinclair as if presenting a treasure, its eyes shining with astonishing brightness.

"Master, look!"

Seraphina Sinclair glanced down.

It was a brush, its body a lustrous white. A faint, silvery sheen flowed across its surface, as if a liquid were slowly moving within.

Seraphina Sinclair raised an eyebrow and reached out to take it.

The shaft was cool to the touch, its weight just right—not too light, not too heavy. The tip was made of a material she didn’t recognize, both flexible and resilient. The silvery luster flowed down the shaft to the tip and then slowly ebbed back, as if the brush were breathing.

She looked up at 001. "Where did you get this?"

puffed out its chest, looking smug. "I got it from a survivor! Three thousand Black Fog Coins, and I’m selling it to you at cost, Master. I had to do a lot of talking to get it down to this price!"

Seraphina Sinclair didn’t answer. Instead, she focused on the brush in her hand and used Insight.

[Silver Stream Rune Pen (D-level)]

[Description: A lustrous white pen whose surface flows with an eternally liquid silver gleam, like liquid moonlight coursing slowly within the shaft. Can be used to draw Mid-level runes!]

[Effect: When drawing runes with this pen, there is a chance to trigger the "Silver Stream" effect, slightly increasing the rune’s quality. This effect can be triggered up to three times per day.]