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Supposedly, probably, maybe, who knew for sure, this story would get him entertained and amused. With that, I could confidently then say, 'I accompanied you and warmed your poor abandoned heart, so you help me in my quest!' As he seemed to show great interest in me, I decided to tell him everything. I liked the old man.

My story, my beginning, my obtaining of that Consciousness skill everyone else innately had. Surrounded by four walls and accompanied by an old man, my lips spoke and spoke. A furnace burned and sent some of its warmth to the entire house, crackling ceaselessly. The same good old sipping sounds were reverberating with the crackling fire, and I finally got used to my old man's absurd way of drinking. My voice carried on and on. And, being added to the abode's symphony, some knocks on the door rang from time to time.

I spoke. Stretching my hands and waving my arms all around me here and there, I added descriptives to illustrate all of what I had been through. At times my arms went all slashy-slash, and at times my hands went all whacky-whack. I slashed at people a lot, indeed. And I met people, too. A young student who told stories—I explained how that unbelievably was what had brought me into the world—to his children and fiancée.

Thanks to that, I brought problems to their group. Following that, a father came at me, cursing me for killing his family, and killed me too. But then, actually, no, I was still going. And so on and so forth. I told him about Kind Ma'am and her lessons about life, about the stout merchant who praised adventurers and fed me for free, about the thieves who, raising all sorts of trouble for me, led me to the kind ma'am's inn, then led me to that elven princess' room, where I had to, due to my condition as a unique monster, take her over, which then— "Led me to that eerie old man who solemnly believed every word of me! ...To be continued."

"Ho ho ho!" the old man earnestly laughed. "You make it sound as though your words were but lies, young man. I hope they were not!" I confirmed as much. My story was the truth. During storytime, the old man hit me with many questions of all sorts. So much so, that seeing how earnest and sincere he was in the interest he had for me, 'the young man of many stories ho ho!', as he liked to put it, I forgot about the quest.

Now, I wasn't telling him for the sake of the System, I was telling him out of my own volition. The poor old man must have been feeling pretty lonely, too. I just wrapped up the end of my story, coming to tell him if he ever wanted the story to continue, he'd have to let me go, now. Thus, my story came to an end. A lot of time passed. But the sun wasn't here, so I couldn't measure up exactly how much.

"Son," the old man said. After we'd grown familiar with each other, he had taken to calling me that. Or rather, he meekly asked me my permission to address me so casually. Really, I laughed at him, then, thinking he seemed more like a Japanese highschool girl who finally mustered up the courage to casually call her crush by his first name. The old grumpy man truly seemed to be shy about it, however. So it ended up creeping me out more than not. I said nothing of it.

"Hmm,

"These people you talked to me about. The inn's people. When the elves took you away, why did they not stop them?" It was obviously because I 'was not' that boy they took in anymore. "I thought so. So you do understand that, do you not?" freewe(b)novel.c(o)m

I did understand it. "When the rude elves abducted you, the kind ma'am, nor her daughters, tried to do anything to prevent your going away, did she not?" I asked him what he meant by that. For once, I thought he was annoying. That was because she didn't know. Would anyone hold her responsible for what had happened? "It is as you say. In no way should this old man think the good woman a culprit for what happened. But at any rate, she did not know about you, your condition, or your story, and will remain clueless about it." To his words, my brows knitted together. "As I said, you do understand." monsense, I knew but too well my words were harder than most to believe. Maybe the kind ma'am could believe in my words, too, and accept all of myself.

When I said that, the old man grew chilly. He switched mode. And laying two somber, sly eyes on me, he told me that only he believed me. He didn't say only he 'would' believe me. He asserted it as if it were a reality already. "Plus, did they not speak ill of the monster, too? Did they not admonish its existence—your existence, son. Did they not lecture you about how—"

"Enough. I get it."

"First," he said, back into the hearty old man mode, "I listened. Now, I shall advise you. What you, young man, want with these people, you cannot have. Of that, I am sure. Even you know that for a fact, for that matter." So when I said I wanted to get back to them, he explained to me, he couldn't just let me send myself to my death. "Well. I doubt you would die then and there if you indeed walked up to them and bared your identity to the family. Fast on your feet, you could always run. But the facts remain. Die you may not, but flee from them you will. Fate is as such. Cruel. My appraisal of you is that I saw in you as much of a trained, intelligent force as I saw a somewhat childish and immature boy. Rather than addressing the capable soldier I saw in you, I now address the boy. Excuse my bluntness, but why would you return to them?"

The old man had a point. I knew it. Still though, I wasn't sure I could find another kind ma'am like mine anywhere else. First off, she didn't even tell me directly with her own mouth that she hated the monster, that was me, to the core. I was sure if I asked her, she would tell me I was an evil thing, but if I explained it all very carefully the same way I did for that eerie old man, maybe she would just accept me. Part of me thought that. Or rather, part of me wanted to believe in that thought and hold onto it to the best of my ability. If I didn't believe it, I would for sure have lost something precious.

"Seeing how it pains you… don't misunderstand this old man, young man. If you wish to be with these people, then so be it. Your will may as well be the right one. I would doubt so… but the ball is yours to throw, son. And, yes, abandon this lonely old uncle of yours, while you're at it, humph!" he playfully said, though I couldn't tell whether he didn't really think that or not. "Do not despair," he placed a hand on my head, caressing it.

Many paths were still available to me, according to him. What I could do if I really wanted to go with people who didn't accept me, was lie to them. As far as he was concerned, that Character's Creation quest, he reminisced, I could get it done, obtain that character of mine and get back to them then. I could, after that, somehow convince them to take me in, as they previously accepted the Tiny Bro of the Bro-Ther-Thieves gang, and live a new happy life with them. The plan he proposed could work, but it might as well not. "Well, at the very least, reflect on your condition a bit. You told this old man you were only born a few days ago, but you, young man, don't look the part at all. Only sometimes." That 'only sometimes' bit wasn't necessary, but I understood what the old sage meant.

"I need some time to think." What I truly wanted was a home, I think. That's what the kind ma'am told me about a person's home. It was where they belonged. It was where their family was. And family was so precious, she told me. So I needed a home. A monster's home. When I asked her where my home was, where the monster's home was, she told me it was far off in the woods anyway. Maybe the elves did me a service, dragging me all the way to here. I needed some time to think. And some thinking material, too.

"Absolutely. You may spend the night here, ho ho!"

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