Unique Skill: "Mana's Benediction" — A lot was discovered about my skills. The unique ones. I thought the old man couldn't be more taken aback by the contents of the long-winded skill descriptions I recited to him. Right, "Grand Devourer" already bore a heavy enough meaning by itself.
After "Mana's Benediction," the old man jotted down a few things inside his notebook. He looked troubled but ultimately didn't ask any questions.
From my perspective, that unique skill seemed pretty straightforward: It gave me the System, named me a Player, and allowed me to play the Game. System, Player, Game. To me, this nomenclature felt perfectly natural. To an old man who didn't know much about the Heroes' Homeland that they called Japan, these names, about a game and a player, couldn't really make a lot of sense. Not after just one read, at the very least.
As for me, I didn't mind the terms because I was well too used to the System always throwing notifications about a game and a player ever since my creation, but I also still hadn't met the hero named Haruto yet. Thanks to Haruto, many more things would make much more sense. But that wasn't for now.
My old man was starting to get burned out. Well, my report wasn't done yet, but I honestly didn't mind the rest of it. To tell the old man about the System Menu and everything that related to it was one thing. My advisor would surely prove useful to me in the days, months, and years to come. Probably.
Still, for the present moment, there was no rush. I explained to the old man that he could get some rest. He seemed worn out. I didn't want him to die just yet and told him as much. Also, the rest of my report wasn't especially important. It was about skills I obtained, what I could do with them, and how that would work out for our team in the future.
"To rest."
"I insist not!"
"To rest."
"I shan't die just yet!"
"...To rest." I had to insist again. Still, the old man didn't want to. Flustered, he first squirmed and fidgeted awkwardly, then told me he was happy his beloved grandchild worried over his case so much. Still, he was feeling quite all right. Of course, spending quality time with the "best grandchild in the world ever" could only elate the "best gramps in the world ever," so he would never run low on energy for me. Those were obviously his words.
I might have been grossed out by the flustered gramps' excitement over spending time with me, the alleged beloved grandchild, so I insisted that he should take it easy one last time, but was inevitably defeated by a combo of Tight Hug + Tight Hug + Insistent Head Pat + Love Confession from the old man. I accepted his eagerness to work and went on with it.
We had to go out. The old man was happy to point out it was our first outing together. Our first family outing. Cetha was still home, so he insisted we had to invite her next time. I agreed to that, but I commented that, for this kind of outing, we ought not to take her with us outside.
"Oh… Hm. Agreed."
The old man stroked his gray chin, pensively. I explained what I meant: A unique monster and a crazy old man were both freaks. That was me and the old man walking by my side. As freaks, we enjoyed each other's company. A third party, who isn't so freakish, wouldn't have the same opinion as us.
It was just a quick outing, but it involved kills and blood. Basically what people considered "wrong" and "evil." It could probably be considered hypocrisy, but I felt like I didn't want Cetha to see this part of me. She didn't need to. That was that.
A young man along with his grandparent thus went out on their own, leaving the young lady behind. In this situation, normally, the young son was supposed to be hopping up and down with excitement, waving his arms around, letting out friendly giggles, and crying how delighted he was to be with grandpa. Next to him, the old man was supposed to have both arms locked on his back with a stern attitude as he told off the overly thrilled child, saying the boy had to calm the hell down.
Needless to say, we weren't quite "normal," my old man and I. Our roles were reversed.
"An outing with my grandchild! Owiiie~!"
"Quiet now," I sighed. "P-People are staring, old man…"
I guided the old man out of the city. We decided not to walk. We ran. It didn't come as a surprise to me: the old man easily picked up the pace to match my speed. Faster than horses, along the way, we idly chatted. I let the old man know our quick schedule, and we promptly arrived at our destination.
The same majestic sanctuary of a cavern in which I defeated a bunch of monster-types earlier today. The same glowing red and blue crystals adorned its entrance, with the same mana-flowers, bowing and dancing by the foot of the cave.
"Quite the beauty!"
"I know, right?"
The sun was setting, diving below the horizon. The flames of the red fireball shone brightly in the West, but not so brightly within the dense sea of trees. A cold wind blew through the canopy of branches, and two silhouettes were drawn from the darkness of the forest to the shiny sanctuary.
A group of adventurers was here. When the old man spotted them, he laughed a few "Ha ha has" and commented "How convenient for people to be here," with a cunning smile. He had switched to the Ha ha ha mode. A cold, impassive old man walked beside me, and we were about to greet the newbie monster-hunters.
"Word is, the dungeon boss really has been slain, y'know, guys."
"Yeah, yeah. Keep repeating it like we didn't hear that rumor, too."
"Any wicked hunter could've been spreading lies around."
"I'm just saying. Who knows? Maybe the Slime King really was defeated. …And I gotta say, sure wish it was, man. That'd ease up our job a great deal."
"Our scout'll come back with the news. For the time being, let's just sit our asses here and wait."
"Right."
There were four. Three talked. It seemed there was a fifth member to their party, but he had gone exploring my cavern in search of a certain dungeon boss I killed. All remaining four were your typical-looking adventurers. Free, non-generic, and in search of great hunt-treasures. Gathered up around a fire, the group roasted skewered meat as they chewed their dry bread with strength. They were in the dark, in a monster-type area, and they were people.
All of these three attributes meant they also were prey. To monster-types. I was one, so I could tell. After the four's conversation died down, at last, rustling sounds were heard. Soon, the sounds of steps invited themselves to the hearty gathering around the fire.
A young man's face was void of any emotion. The old man following me wore an evil grin and kept laughing rounds of silent "Ha ha has."
Alerted, the hunters were first confused. A second, their voices all spoke on top of one another, messing with the silent harmony of my territory's nightly lullaby. Another second, they all shut their traps to make out if the presence coming to them was malevolent or not. Soon, it was asserted that there were two. The uninvited guests were people. An old man and his son.
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on fre(e)webnov(l).com