《First Class Caravan | Comfort/Chill LitRPG》


 The Accountant and The Savant

    Norman Persson prided himself on being the ideal worker. He would get up at precisely 6:30 in the morning, take a 2-minute shower to reserve water, then brush his teeth and comb back his hair at the same time to keep up with his tight schedule. After deeming himself clean and put together enough, he put on his suit. He wore it every day without fail, even on days off. It was a dull gray with a dark gray tie. It was completely average and forgettable, just like Norman himself.


    Norman¡¯s apartment was pristine and minimalistic, empty even. A single immaculately made bed, a uniform table and chairs, and a single bookshelf. Anything beyond that was unnecessary for living his life in the most optimal way possible.


    After meticulously checking that every socket was unplugged and every appliance was off, he set off to his job as an accountant. Work was his favorite thing in life, as it was always the same. He sat in the same cubicle every day, drank the same cup of coffee while looking over his email, and went to his daily meeting at exactly 13:00. Not everything was the same, of course. The numbers were always different. Looking through budget documents and spending logs to check for inconsistencies was a daily adventure he very much enjoyed. Sometimes, he even found minor fraud on the level of a misdemeanor. Exciting.


    After a riveting 8 hours of interesting and thought-provoking work, Norman stretched his back and looked over his cubicle. Everything was in its place and put away. Good. After he put away his very important documents in his briefcase, he made his way to the door. When he stepped through, he didn¡¯t find himself in the dingy hallway with the new vending machine. Instead, he found himself in a sprawling forest he didn¡¯t recognize.


    <hr>


    ¡°Well, this is new,¡±  He thought as he turned to look back at the doorway¡ªonly to find more trees where his workroom had once been.


    [I AM PLEASED TO MEET YOU, HOST NORMAN PERSSON.]


    The unassuming gray box flickered in front of Norman''s eyes. It felt somehow familiar in its regular irregularity. The arial font on the light gray background reminded Norman of his business card¡ªbasic, sleek, and straight to the point. But before he could continue inspecting the unknown box in front of his eyes, the text changed.


    [I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF TRANSPORTING YOU INTO ANOTHER WORLD FOR THE SAKE OF MY OWN SELFISH NEEDS. I DO APOLOGIZE.]


    It was a very polite box, something Norman could appreciate. However, this other world nonsense seemed a tad bit concerning, to say the least.


    "While I appreciate the apology, I would like to be filled in on what is happening and where I am," Norman said out loud to the box, hoping nobody was close enough to hear him and assume he was mentally unsound.


    [I SHALL EXPLAIN.]


    [MY NAME IS SAVANT. I AM FROM A SPECIES KNOWN AS !=#&¡è! BUT HUMANS CALL US SYSTEMS. PERHAPS YOU HAVE HEARD OF US FROM FANTASY NOVELS. THIS IS BY DESIGN AS WE HAVE TAKEN A FORM YOU HUMANS CAN COMPREHEND.]


    Norman put his hand on his chin in contemplation. Had he heard of systems before? It seemed vaguely familiar but also not. Then again, Norman hadn''t read a fantasy novel in close to 20 years. Unless it meant algorithmic or organizational systems, then he was VERY familiar.


    [WE CANNOT EXIST OUTSIDE OF THE VOID WITHOUT A HOST. TERRANS HAVE THE MOST OPTIMAL BODY TO HOST US WHILE MAINTAINING AUTONOMY, SO WE SEARCH THE EARTH FOR THE PERFECT HOST TO INHABIT. YOU AND I HAVE A 99.6% SYNCHRONIZATION RATE.]


    This sounded somewhat alien, didn''t it? Was this an alien? Norman had logically thought that aliens had to exist somewhere in the vast universe. It simply didn''t make sense that humans would be the only life in the galaxy. But actually meeting an alien felt quite surreal.


    [I AM NOT AN ALIEN.]


    The box cut him off. Well, if it wasn¡¯t an alien, what was it? Maybe a hologram or a hallucination caused by lack of sleep? But that didn¡¯t make sense either; Norman always got his 8 hours of sleep in every day. Good sleep is the key to a functioning life and healthy body.


    [I AM A SYSTEM. MAY I CONTINUE MY EXPLINATION?]


    ¡°Oh, right, of course. Go ahead.¡± Norman nodded, not sparing a single thought at the fact that it seemed this system creature could read his mind. This was ordinarily something someone would be rather upset about, but Norman likened it to your boss being able to read your work emails. Somewhat invasive but understandable.


    [I NEED YOUR BODY TO EXIST IN THE WORLD, BUT I ALSO NEED MANA TO KEEP MY FORM. SO I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF TRANSPORTING YOU INTO ANOTHER WORLD KNOWN AS SILVAE, AS EARTH HAS FAR TOO LITTLE MANA TO SUPPORT MY CONTINUED EXISTENCE.]


    ¡°Another world, huh?¡± Norman sighed. He was surprisingly unperturbed by the revelation that he wasn¡¯t on earth anymore. He felt the same thing he did when his boss put a pile of documents on his desk right before he was off the clock. Annoying, yes. But what can you do?


    ¡°Can I rightfully assume that you won¡¯t return me to where I came from?¡± He asked. He was sure this box that called itself Savant would deny his request, but you never get anywhere without asking.


    [I APOLOGIZE, HOST NORMAN. IT IS A ONE WAY TRANSPORTATION.]


    This is the part where most people would start freaking out, screaming about their family, lover, or friends. But Norman could do nothing but sigh and rub his temples. He had a huge presentation waiting for him at home that would cause the company huge losses if it wasn¡¯t presented to the shareholders on time. The closest thing he had to a relationship on Earth was the pigeon he fed his bread crusts every now and then.


    ¡°Well, I suppose that¡¯s that then. What am I meant to do? If you want me to save the world, then I am afraid I will have to decline.¡± Norman said as he adjusted his thick, black-framed glasses.


    [LIVE. GET STRONGER IF YOU WANT. GET A JOB IF YOU WANT. I DO NOT MIND AS LONG AS YOU DON¡¯T DIE.]


    ¡°Because then you¡¯ll die as well?¡± Norman asked.


    [CORRECT. OUR LIVES ARE INTERTWINED. I WILL DO MY UTMOST TO HELP YOU FOR BOTH OF OUR SAKES.]


    ¡°I suppose I¡¯m with this thing for the long haul then. I surprisingly don¡¯t mind. Perhaps it is injecting something into my brain to make me feel positive feelings towards it. Or it has rewired my brain structure completely.¡± Norman thought to himself as he tapped his foot in contemplation, a habit he tried to get rid of with little success.


    [I AM NOT ¡°REWIRING YOUR BRAIN,¡± NOR AM I POISONING IT.]


    Norman was startled out of his thought process as Savant responded. He hadn¡¯t expected the thing to be able to read his thoughts so thoroughly, he had assumed it was a simple transfer of ideas, but perhaps that made sense if they were now in a symbiotic relationship.


    [WE HAVE A 99.6% COMPATABILITY RATE. IT IS NATURAL THAT WE WOULD GET ALONG.]


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    ¡°So it¡¯s a soulmate thing? I¡¯ve never believed in soulmates, and I certainly don¡¯t feel any sense of attraction towards you.¡± Norman responded. The thought of being soulmates with a mysterious box of text sounded a lot more pleasant than being soulmates with another human being, but he certainly wasn¡¯t in love.


    [THE FEELING IS MUTUAL.]


    Breathing a sigh of relief that Savant wasn¡¯t in love with him, Norman began walking in a random direction through the forest. Everything around him looked the same but he figured that as long as he kept walking, he was bound to run into people sooner or later.


    <hr>


    After what felt like hours of walking (but was probably closer to 45 minutes), Norman plopped down on a slightly moist tree stump and let out the kinda noise someone who is very out of shape makes.


    [OUT OF ENERGY ALREADY?]


    After an amount of huffing and puffing that didn¡¯t fit his relatively fit appearance, Norman finally felt well enough to speak.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t walked this long in years. It was only a 4-minute walk to the subway station to work, and from there, it was barely 7 minutes to the office.¡± Norman wheezed while wiping his flushed face with the handkerchief he always kept in his breast pocket.


    [IT WOULD BE PRUDENT TO CHECK YOUR STAMINA STAT AND INFORM YOURSELF OF WHAT YOU CAN AND CAN¡¯T HANDLE.]


    ¡°Stats? Like in video games? I haven¡¯t played those since they were pixelated.¡± He chuckled to himself, thinking himself an upstanding citizen for never getting distracted by the allure of video games.


    [YES. ONE OF THE MANY BENEFITS SYSTEMS GIVE THEIR HOSTS IS AN EASY-TO-UNDERSTAND OVERVIEW OF THEIR BODY AND MIND. AFTER YOU CHECK YOUR STATUS, YOU MAY THANK ME FOR MY HARD WORK COMPILING IT ALL.]


    ¡°My status?¡ª¡± He was cut off as words appeared in front of his eyes, compiled just like one of his documents from work.


    <hr>


    [NORMAN PERSSON]


    HP: 15


    INT: 30


    WIS: 6


    STA: 2


    STR: 3


    MP: 3


    SP: 0


    AFFINITY: LAW


    MAGIC: EXCHANGE MAGIC


    [AFFINITY SKILLS]


    EXCHANGE (LVL 1)


    Exchange an item you are holding for an item of equal value. The item has to fit in the palm of your hand, as does the item you are exchanging it for.


    Cooldown: 10 Minutes ¡ª MP: 3


    LIFE SWAP (LVL 1)


    By saving the life of a creature with a soul, you gain SP. Spend your SP to drain the life force of a designated target.


    Cooldown: 24 Hours ¡ª MP: 1


    GOLDEN EYE (LVL 1)


    By focusing on an item, you can instantly know its current market value with a 50% margin of error.


    Cooldown: N/A ¡ª MP: 1


    [LIFE SKILLS]


    CALCULATION (LVL 8)


    The knowledge of arithmetic used in daily life and study. You can easily calculate problems in your head without too much effort.


    LITERACY (LVL 10)


    Being literate is a rare and sought after trait to have in Silvae. Good job, you can read and write.


    COOKING (LVL 2)


    The act of cooking a meal for humanoid consumption. Your meals are barely edible at this level.


    FOCUS (LVL 7)


    The ability to focus on a task for a prolonged amount of time. You can easily spend days on a single problem without getting distracted.


    [UNIQUE SKILLS]


    SYSTEM (SAVANT ¡ª KNOWLEDGE TYPE)


    Yours truly. Your trusted system and life partner, Savant. There are four different types of systems: Power, Magic, Corruption, and Knowledge. I am a knowledge system, I have access to almost all of the information you could wish for.


    <hr>


    [WHAT DO YOU THINK? I TRIED TO COMPILE IT IN A WAY YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND.]


    Savant seemed almost proud of itself even through the plain Arial text. It would be endearing if it wasn¡¯t a mysterious, probably eldrich, entity that could instantly transport people from one world to another.


    ¡°I think I get the gist of it.¡± Norman nodded after checking over the text. Most of it made sense. He always ate frozen dinners after work, so his low cooking skill tracked, and so did his calculation skill for obvious reasons. ¡°Just for reference, what are the average stats for an adult man?¡±


    [10 POINTS IN ALL CATEGORIES EXCEPT FOR MP.]


    ¡°10 points, huh¡­¡± This admittedly made him feel quite insecure about himself. To see he was thrice as intelligent as other people softened the blow a bit, but the knowledge that he had the strength and stamina of the weakest of weaklings stung.


    [DO NOT FRET. YOU ARE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE.]


    ¡°Thank you for your consideration, Savant.¡± He nodded curtly. It was unsightly to get upset in front of others; a good worker remains neutral and composed even in the most dire of situations.


    <hr>


    After resting for a while, he pulled himself and continued walking. He reasoned that if he kept walking, then surely his stamina would go up just like it does on Earth. Even though the people of Earth didn¡¯t have these convenient numbers, they still felt the effects. He had the advantage of seeing his progress, so if anything, he had to work even harder than regular people.


    Norman (and, by extension, Savant) wandered through the seemingly endless forest. There was nothing particularly interesting that you would expect from a fantasy world. No unicorns nor fairies resting on glowing mushrooms. Just trees, moss, and the occasional bird in the distance. The only reminder that this was, in fact, not Earth was the faint sensation of tingling against his skin. Norman could easily tune it out by thinking about other things or talking to Savant, but if he focused on it, it was almost overwhelming.


    ¡°Say, Savant. What is this strange tingling sensation I feel? Have I perhaps been poisoned by something in the woods?¡± He asked, feeling somewhat concerned. Normally he would call a doctor for such a thing, but Savant would have to do as he doubted his phone would have a signal in another world.


    [WHAT YOU ARE FEELING IS MANA. MANA IS EVERYWHERE.]


    ¡°Mana. I see. I recognize the term from fantasy media back on earth. I assume it has to do with magic of some sort? I think I saw a section for magic in my information.¡±


    Magic. That word felt so foreign yet familiar. Like all children, when Norman was a child, he had imagined being a grand wizard or enrolling in a certain magic school. It was one of those impossible things that many people dream of yet logically know are unobtainable. It could be said that Earth had its own magic in a way. Electricity and radiation would certainly be labeled as magic in ancient times¡ªeven magnets were touted as magic rocks once upon a time. Though this was probably not what Savant was talking about.


    [CORRECT. MANA IS THE FORCE THAT MAKES THE IMPOSSIBLE POSSIBLE. IN OTHER WORDS, MAGIC.]


    ¡°Interesting. I can think of a thousand questions I wish to ask you about mana and magic, but perhaps making a fire first would be prudent. It is getting quite dark.¡±


    <hr>


    After finding a suitably dry clearing, Norman rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He had never made a fire before as he was raised in the city and hadn¡¯t even been camping. But he got the gist of it. As he wiped off the forest floor from dirt and leaves, he made a mental checklist of what to do.


    Step 1.


    Align stones in a circle to prevent the fire from spreading


    Step 2.


    Gather dry branches and leaves in the circle to start the fire with


    Step 3.


    Hit rocks together until the sparks set the leaves alight.


    ¡°Sounds easy enough. Doesn¡¯t it, Savant?¡± He confidently asked his parasitic companion, putting his hands on his hips to emphasize how capable he was.


    [IF YOU SAY SO.]

 The Fire and The Spell

    It was, in fact, not easy.


    Setting up the fire pit was easy enough, as it simply involved gathering sticks and stones. Everything in the forest was strangely damp, as if it had rained just moments prior, but after enough rummaging through piles of leaves and empty burrows¡ªhe got himself quite the collection of usable firewood.


    The problem was the act of lighting the fire. He¡¯d thought the process just involved smashing stones together hard enough to cause sparks. This, however, worked about as well as kindly asking the sticks to set themselves on fire. That is to say, it didn¡¯t work at all.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t going as expected. Not at all.¡± Norman grumbled to himself between meek hits of the stones. The stones barely even made a sound whenever he clacked them together. As expected of a man with a strength stat of 3.


    After a good 20 minutes or so of hitting, Norman finally decided that this wasn¡¯t gonna work. With a disgruntled noise, he threw the rocks away in a majestic throw that would surely get him into a world-renowned baseball team¡­ if the rocks didn¡¯t awkwardly fly for a meter before falling down with an unsatisfying ¡®thump¡¯


    [DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?]


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this! Asking for help after just one try isn¡¯t the way to progress!¡± Norman responded with mock confidence. He wasn¡¯t confident, not really. If this didn¡¯t work out in the next 10 minutes, he would probably get frustrated and give up. He was good at concentrating on numbers but not so much when it came to survival skills.


    Savant was silent after that. Either it believed in Norman¡¯s capabilities, or it decided that arguing was a fruitless effort. They¡¯re soulmates, after all, and soulmates know what battles they can win against each other. Though maybe that idiom would be best used for a married couple instead of a parasite and it¡¯s host.


    After a valiant, yet admittedly poor, attempt at making a bow drill with a piece of wood and a sturdy piece of grass, Norman promptly gave up. Trying to figure it out himself was stupid when Savant supposedly knew everything he¡¯d ever want to know, right? Even so, asking it for help after proudly stating that he didn¡¯t need any help didn¡¯t feel good. It reminded him of his days as a new hire, fresh out of university and fully convinced that he knew everything he ever needed to know¡ªonly to be corrected on his first day.


    [DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE, NORMAN?]


    Savant repeated. Norman was probably imagining it, but he could sense a hint of gloating in the response. Maybe he felt Savant¡¯s emotions through the same link that made it read his thoughts, or maybe it was a spiritual connection. Is this what being soulmates entailed? He hadn¡¯t ever been in a human relationship, so he had no way of knowing. By the way those poems and love songs put it, this was probably how it worked. He could sense himself getting off-topic, so he quickly refocused on the question. Of course, he would ask for help, even if it meant looking foolish. The sun was starting to set, and spending the night in an unknown forest without any warmth or light sounded like a terrible idea.


    ¡°Yes, please. I would like assistance.¡± Norman responded with as neutral of a tone of voice as he could muster. If one listened closer, one could hear the slightest hint of a salaryman¡¯s wounded pride in the words.


    [YOUR GLASSES SEEM TO HAVE THE APPROPRIATE LENSES FOR STARTING A FIRE.]


    Ah! Why didn¡¯t he think of that? Of course his glasses would work as long as the sun was up, which it wouldn¡¯t be for much longer. After finding an appropriately wet leaf from a nearby oak-like tree, he sat himself by his would-be fire. He was pumped (well, as pumped as Norman could be), and he was ready.


    There was only one, teeny, tiny problem. To use his glasses as a lens, he would have to take them off. This wouldn¡¯t be a problem for the average person. Sure, things would be a bit blurry for a while, but they would manage pretty well. Not Norman, however. If Norman wasn¡¯t born in the 21st century¡ªhe would be a blind man. His glasses were the width of a children¡¯s book with the strength of a magnifying glass. Perfect for starting fires and even more perfect for being able to make Norman see. The only problem was that, well, without them, his vision would be as good as nothing.


    But as they say, the ones who make the greatest discoveries always go in blind. A saying that probably didn¡¯t mean what Norman was willing it to mean as he took off his glasses and the world turned from a sprawling forest into vaguely green blobs.


    [ARE YOU ALRIGHT, NORMAN?]


    ¡°Oh, good! I can still see you! Yes, I am perfectly fine.¡± He lied to himself and his system. He wasn¡¯t fine at all. A bear could come up behind him and maul him to death and he wouldn¡¯t be able to do a thing. Even with the threat of bears looming, he decided to push on, as fantasy worlds probably didn¡¯t have bears to worry about in the first place.


    He squinted his eyes as he sloooowly brought the leaf in his hand to the center of his glasses (or what he thought were his glasses) before angling the leaf and letting the dew gather on the lens. Norman was pretty sure he got it. Savant didn¡¯t tell him he was messing it up, and that was a good enough sign for him.


    Norman slowly and carefully lifted the glasses up to the glowing orb in the blurry sky that he assumed was the sun. If it wasn¡¯t the sun, well, the fire would be the least of his worries. When the position felt right, his eyes were glued to the undefined brown blob where his fire pit was. Surely this would work.


    And it did! After an agonizing 4 minutes a small ember appeared in the fire, which grew to a proud flame. A flame he could only see after he put his glasses back on. It was small and kind of pathetic, but it was fire! Humanity¡¯s greatest feat was taming fire, and now it was Norman¡¯s greatest feat in this new world. He felt like Leonardo Da Vinci, Marie Curie, and Steve Jobs, all rolled into one.


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    [CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR FIRE. YOU WORKED HARD.]


    Despite only knowing Savant for a few hours, being complimented by it felt oddly nice. Although he took great pride in being complimented at work, it didn¡¯t feel as warm and fuzzy as this. It must be a side effect of having the same body¡­ probably


    ¡°Thank you for the advice, Savant. I learned a lot from this experience.¡± Norman sagely nodded to himself as if he pretended to learn some valuable and profound lesson from sitting in the dirt rubbing rocks and sticks together for 2 hours.


    [I AM ALWAYS HAPPY TO HELP.]


    <hr>


    After a long yet comfortable silence in front of the fire, Norman suddenly remembered that he was in a fantasy world with magic powers. This normally wasn''t something anyone would forget, but Norman usually had better things to think about, such as what kind of moss was growing on the trees around him, or if this world has toilets.


    ¡°Could you please show me the magic part of that status thing? I would like to see what that is all about.¡± Norman asked. Well, that''s what he wanted to ask, but the pop-up cut him off as soon as the word status left his mouth.


    <hr>


    [AFFINITY SKILLS]


    EXCHANGE (LVL 1)


    Exchange an item you are holding for an item of equal value. The item has to fit in the palm of your hand, as does the item you are exchanging it for.


    Cooldown: 10 Minutes ¡ª MP: 3


    LIFE SWAP (LVL 1)


    By saving the life of a creature with a soul, you gain SP. Spend your SP to drain the life force of a designated target.


    Cooldown: 24 Hours ¡ª MP: 1


    GOLDEN EYE (LVL 1)


    By focusing on an item, you can instantly know its current market value with a 50% margin of error.


    Cooldown: N/A ¡ª MP: 1


    <hr>


    Norman thoroughly inspected his new magic skills, and he could draw a few conclusions regarding them. One was that MP probably means magic points, maybe mana points? And he would need a certain amount of them to cast spells. That made sense; nothing in life is free, even in fantasy worlds. How he would get these mana points was a mystery for another time.  The second thing was that, well, his powers were quite terrible for survival. They were fantastic for accounting, however.


    ¡°Excuse me, Savant. How would I go about doing magic? I don¡¯t see any button to press or spell to chant.¡± Norman asked as he scanned his status again, just in case there really was a button and he completely missed it.


    [FOCUS YOUR ENTIRE MIND ON THE SPELL. THE MANA WILL UNDERSTAND.]


    Focusing, huh? Sounds easy enough, yet also quite inconvenient. What if he wanted to research a spell but accidentally cast it by focusing too hard on his research? These things would have safety measures back on Earth, but he wasn¡¯t on Earth anymore, so he simply made a mental note not to think about anything too hard just in case it was a spell.


    With that, he cleared his mind and focused on GOLDEN EYE. First, he focused on the name itself, imagining his eyes turning from a dark black to a mystical golden color. When he felt the tingling sensation of the mana gather in his eyes, he started focusing on the description of the skill. Knowing the price of something was a very valuable skill, though the 50% margin of error made it less than worthless. He focused intently on his wristwatch. It was a cheap thing he bought for necessities sake. If he remembered correctly¡ªit was worth about $35.


    Norman felt a third of his energy leave his body, and the watch light up in his vision before a popup similar to Savant¡¯s entered his vision, though this one was a shimmering gold color instead of Savant¡¯s dull gray.


    [OTHERWORLD WATCH - 20,000 LAPIS]


    Now, THIS was interesting! He had assumed that he would get the price in Earth currency that he could easily understand, but this was obviously not any currency from his homeworld. How much was a single Lapis worth, and how did it convert to dollars? $35 turning into 20,000 Lapis was also very curious. Was the Lapis going through some sort of hyperinflation, or was this world not developed enough to have wristwatches? Perhaps the fact that it was from another world was what made it expensive. There was also the 50% margin to keep in mind, which complicated things.


    The fact that he just cast real magic was also sort of interesting in a way, but the new system of currency and the market value of things in another world was far more exciting to Norman. This was his bread and butter. His greatest joy, even. Money was fun to spend sometimes, but keeping track of it was even better. He had wanted to be a banker growing up, but when the banking market went online, he switched to accounting instead.


    ¡°Savant? I am sorry for all the questions, but could you tell me how much a Lapis is currently worth?¡± Norman asked with sparkling eyes. The kind of eyes someone would have when looking at their firstborn child.


    [ONE LAPIS IS WORTH THE SAME AS ONE LOAF OF WHOLE GRAIN BREAD.]


    ¡°Ah! Wonderful! That¡¯s an easy to understand conversion rate. I assume this is a less technologically advanced world where food is the top priority. Is that correct?¡± Norman wanted to write this down, but as he was in the forest with nothing to write with, he simply just made a writing motion with his hand.


    [CORRECT. THIS WORLD HAS YET TO ADVANCE FURTHER THAN THE MEDIEVAL AGE DUE TO THE CONVENIENCE OF MAGIC.]


    So it''s a classic fantasy world, then. I suppose it made sense that nobody would bother to discover electricity if everyone could produce light from their hands or boil water with fire magic. Maybe there was even teleportation magic that halted the invention of trains or healing magic that made medicine obsolete. What a convenient world he found himself in.


    <hr>


    As the sun dipped below the horizon¡ªNorman found himself unbearably tired. Maybe it was the long walk, the use of magic, or the whole being transported into a new world thing, but Norman could barely keep his eyes open. Logically, he knew that falling asleep in some unknown forest was a bad idea. Perhaps one of the worst choices a man can make. But his body wouldn¡¯t listen to reason as he laid down on the slightly damp ground.


    He had Savant to watch over him, so everything would be fine.

 The Man and The Boy

    Norman woke up to the sensation of water dripping on his face. Only on his face. As his eyes shot open, he was greeted by the wide maw of a beast drooling all over him. It looked like a mix between a wildcat and a wolf, the kind of thing that could maul a person with minimal effort. Norman felt his body freeze as he awaited his impending doom. It had been a good life, sort of. He even got to experience magic before he died, something most people could only ever dream of.


    Norman squeezed his eyes shut and awaited a world of pain. He waited, and waited, and¡­ wait, why wasn¡¯t he being mauled? The pather-wolf thing leaned down and sniffed Norman¡¯s impeccably styled hair before gleefully licking his jet-black locks until it looked like a sopping mess. Norman simply stared in disbelief as he got his haircut ruined by the beast. It felt incredibly unpleasant, like having your head dunked in a vat of slime, but it was far better than the unbearable pain of being gutted alive by a wild animal.


    After the beast was sure it had nothing left to savor, it simply walked off, leaving Norman both moist and confused. Did all creatures of this world like the taste of human hair, or was this hybrid thing special? Was his hair particularly tasty to beasts? That would be a very inconvenient situation to be in. He couldn¡¯t imagine being allowed into towns or settlements unless he shaved himself bald.


    Savant, who had stayed silent during this entire life-threatening situation, finally decided to say its piece.


    [I BELIEVE YOUR HAIR GEL IS THE CULPRIT. IT SHOULD BE FINE NOW THAT IT HAS BEEN EATEN. I DID NOT INTERVENE AS LYFELES DO NOT PREY ON HUMANS.]


    Norman, startled out of his inner monologues, jumped in surprise at the text in front of his eyes. He wasn¡¯t used to having someone in his head 24/7 and doubted he would be used to it anytime soon. It was good to know that he wouldn¡¯t be attracting any more beasts and that he wasn¡¯t in any real danger. Still, a heads-up would have been nice.


    ¡°Next time I come inches from the maw of a beast in my sleep, please do wake me up, no matter how harmless the creature is. I nearly got a heart attack.¡± Norman grumbled as he poked around in the now-dead fire. It was a good fire while it lasted, glorious even, so he was a bit sad to see it reduced to ashes.


    ¡°This must be how great inventors feel when their inventions inevitably fail,¡± He thought to himself, likening himself to one of the greats while conveniently ignoring that all he did was start a fire.


    He would¡¯ve lamented about his lost fire for longer if the pang of hunger didn¡¯t make thinking so difficult. Norman was a twenty-first-century man; he had rarely gone a day without eating. Food was taken for granted and eaten for entertainment instead of survival back on Earth. Hunting for food was something you did in the fridge or pantry, not in a wide forest brimming with dangerous animals and poisonous plants


    Norman wasn¡¯t a betting man, but even he would bet his life savings on not finding a fridge full of food in the middle of the forest. He simply had no choice but to keep walking and hope he would come across something edible. He straightened himself out and tried to look as presentable as possible, even with his suit covered in mud and grass. Ah, he had just taken it to the dry cleaner a few days ago, and now it was practically ruined.


    <hr>


    He began walking while mourning his favorite suit. He got it as a treat for himself last year for his 30th birthday and has worn it every day since. Norman wondered what kinds of clothes they had in Silvae and what was considered fashionable. Maybe it was as easy as getting a new suit from a tailor, but he doubted it was that easy.


    The forest was sprawling with life now. Birds sang melodic tunes in the distance, while rabbit- and fox-like creatures trotted at the edge of Norman''s vision. Norman was wise enough not to touch any of the colorful flowers covering the trees or the poisonous-looking bugs scampering through the earth below his feet.


    The air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers and the earthy smell of moss. This part of the world was a lot more humid and hot than his hometown. It reminded him of Asian summers when you can practically feel the air around you as you walk. It wasn¡¯t unpleasant, but it wasn¡¯t exactly pleasant either. Norman was thirsty, hungry, and tired. A very unpleasant combination.


    A high-pitched yell and the sound of branches snapping cut through the birdsong. A blur of yellow and brown quickly fell toward Norman, making him step back in surprise. The object crashed in front of his feet, making a dull thud as it touched the ground. Norman could only see a pair of large yellow wings on the ground, twitching slightly. It looked like some sort of tropic bird from this angle. Norman went to poke it with a stick when it suddenly jolted up straight.


    The wings were attached to a young boy with tan skin and long blonde hair tangled in an uncountable number of knots. He couldn¡¯t have looked older than 6 or 7, yet he didn¡¯t seem bothered in the slightest by the fall. He looked up at Norman with eyes full of amazement; it was as if he was looking at a unicorn.


    Norman¡¯s mind was running a mile a second at the appearance of this child. This was the first person he had met in this first world, and it was a child. He wasn¡¯t good with children. Before that, did they even speak the same language? Wait, wait, no, why did it have wings?


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    ¡°Greetings.¡± was all Norman managed to say, a pathetic attempt at first contact with a new world.


    The boy¡¯s face lit up as he quickly scrambled to stand up on his feet. His wings looked far too big for his body yet folded into an appropriate size, much to Norman¡¯s amazement. The boy was dressed in rags that probably were blue once but now looked dark brown. He had cuts and bruises all over his legs and arms as well. Norman couldn¡¯t help but wonder who took care of the child. Was letting your children become this unkept and injured common in this world? He hoped now.


    ¡°Hello, mister!¡± The boy said with barely subdued excitement. He had a slight lisp but Norman was pleasantly surprised that they both spoke the same language.


    ¡°Ahem. Yes. My name is Norman Persson. What is your name?¡± Norman introduced himself as if he was at a company convention. He even reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a business card before catching himself.


    ¡°My name is Pail! I¡¯m named that because they found me in the pail of a well! That¡¯s what the angry misters told me!¡± Pail beamed, seemingly very proud of his abysmally uncreative name.


    ¡°Nice to meet you¡­ Pail. May I speak to your parents?¡± Norman decided that it was probably not a great idea to ask questions to a child who could barely feed themselves and that contacting an adult would be optimal.


    ¡°I don¡¯t got none! I was sold for 10 Lapis to the angry misters before they all died and left me in the woods!¡± Pail explained. His life sounded like a complicated one, yet Pail himself didn¡¯t seem to mind much.


    ¡°An orphan, then. That explains the state he¡¯s in,¡± Norman thought to himself as he looked at the child with pity. He wasn¡¯t the most socially aware man, but even he could tell that the boy had a hard life. He was ready to give up on the woods after a day and a half; Pail must be absolutely exhausted after god knows how long.


    ¡°I see. Are you alone? Do you have a place to live?¡± Norman asked as gently as he could, something he wasn¡¯t very good at with his minimal conversation skills.


    Pail swayed on his bare heels as he thought. Was he alone? He had the company of birds and stuff. Did that count, or did this mister mean people who would respond to him when he talked? He sure would like someone to talk to that didn¡¯t fly away.


    ¡°It¡¯s just me!¡± Pail decided to respond, deciding that birds probably didn¡¯t count. ¡°Can I come with you, mister? I¡¯ll do lots of work, and if I don¡¯t, then you can smack me on the ear like the angry misters did!¡± The boy gave Norman his most charming smile, trying to sell himself as someone worth having around.


    [I WOULD SUGGEST BRINGING THE BOY AS A GUIDE.]


    Savant spoke up for the first time in hours, scaring the life out of poor Norman. Pail, who couldn¡¯t hear it, looked around in confusion to try to spot what scared the man but came up with nothing.


    ¡°I was going to bring him even if you didn¡¯t tell me to. It would leave a bad taste in my mouth if I left such a young child alone.¡± Norman retorted in his head. He was planning to clean the boy up and send him to an orphanage in some nice town whenever he found one. That seemed like the reasonable thing to do.


    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll take you with me. Your only job will be to guide me to water suitable for drinking.¡± Norman instructed the child while trying to sound as dependable as possible, ¡°But I won¡¯t beat you,¡± He quickly added at the end. Giving the child the impression that he would be hit if he did something wrong wasn¡¯t the way to boost productivity. Productivity felt like the wrong word to use. Morale? That seemed right.


    Pail puffed out his chest at the request. Finding his way around the forest was something he was good at. He had been living here for a year, after all. He quickly reached his hands out and tugged on Norman¡¯s dirty suit jacket, urging him to follow.


    ¡°There¡¯s a river a bit from here! Come on, mister!¡± Pail said as he started leading Norman through the forest. He was a lot more nimble than Norman and easily navigated the root-infested forest floor that Norman kept tripping on.


    Pail hummed a song while they walked, a tune Norman didn¡¯t recognize. The boy was clearly overjoyed at finding another person in the forest, as was Norman. Sure, he had Savant, but talking to a text box for hours had started to get tiring. He had about a thousand questions for the boy but started with the one that he was most interested in.


    ¡°May I ask about the wings? Do all people have those here?¡± Norman asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. Maybe mentioning the wings was a taboo in this world.


    Pail laughed at Norman¡¯s question as if the answer was obvious. ¡°Mister! Where are you from that you think all people have wings?¡± He giggled. ¡°They told me my momma was half harpy! She left me in the well ¡®cause I can¡¯t fly! Don¡¯t got them hollow bones other harpies have!¡±


    Norman¡¯s eyes widened slightly at the casual mention of a mythical creature. It made sense, of course, he was in a fantasy world. Yet he still hadn¡¯t actually experienced anything especially magical since arriving here. There weren¡¯t any dragons flying overhead nor elven villages in the trees. It was just an ordinary forest for the most part.


    ¡°I am from very far away. I don¡¯t know anything about this side of the world.¡± Norman explained in the best way he could. It was the truth of the best kind, a technical one.


    Soon enough, the dense trees parted to make way for a flowing river in a peaceful meadow. It looked like it was straight out of a storybook. The grass was soft, and the water was clear. Norman could even see fish swimming about in the river.


    ¡°Ta-dah! The river! I¡¯m a good guide, ain¡¯t I?¡± Pail made an exaggerated gesture that reminded Norman of a realtor presenting a house. The boy then took a side glance at Norman, clearly expecting to be praised.


    ¡°You¡¯re a skilled guide. Thank you.¡± Norman praised. This was his most sincere attempt at a compliment. He would make sure to work on better compliments in the future.


    The pair sat down at the edge of the river, and Norman finally got a drink of water after a day and a half with a mouth as dry as the Sahara. With the threat of imminent doom at the hands of dehydration averted, Norman finally let himself relax.


    Well, until he heard a mighty splash in the river.

 The Undercooked Fish and The Moderate Happiness

    Suddenly, Norman was drenched. He didn¡¯t even know how to react as the ice-cold water seeped through his already ruined clothes. The warm weather made it bearable, refreshing even, but he would certainly rather be dry. It didn¡¯t help that he could almost hear Savant chuckle somewhere deep in his brain. As he stood up to shake the water off, he spotted Pail. The boy was equally as drenched as Norman himself and happily splashing in the shallow river.


    ¡°This water feels real nice, mister! Nice n¡¯ cold!¡± Pail chirped as he used his wings to splash in the water. The water did nothing to make him any cleaner; if anything, it just dissolved the dried mud on his legs to make a mess. Norman made a mental note to give him a bath when they found a town.


    Norman hung up his suit jacket and shoes in a nearby tree to let them dry faster in the summer heat. He kept his other clothes on for modesty¡¯s sake. Not that any women were around to look at him, but he would like to keep his clothes on if he were to be chased out of here by another one of those pather-wolf beasts. While he wrung out his soaked dress shirt, he looked back at Pail.


    The kid looked like he was concentrating on something as he waded through the water. His amber eyes scanned the river like a tiger, and his arms were held up in a grabbing position. Norman could even swear he saw Pail stick out his tongue in concentration. It reminded him of the secretary in his office, as she had the same habit. It seemed like the kind of thing you shouldn¡¯t interrupt, so Norman decided to stay back and watch.


    ¡°What do you think he¡¯s doing?¡± Norman asked inwardly to the living encyclopedia that resided in his brain. If anyone knew, it would probably be Savant.


    [IT LOOKS LIKE HE IS TRYING TO CATCH A FISH.]


    As if to prove Savant¡¯s astute observation correct; Pail dove his hands in the water with a determined ¡°Ha!¡±. A moment later, he was proudly holding a flailing fish above his head, beaming ear to ear at his catch. Pail looked like the image of happiness despite all his injuries and scars. Partly because of the fish but mostly because he had someone to show the fish to.


    ¡°Look, mister! I caught ya somethin¡¯ to eat! I heard ya stomach grumblin¡¯, so I thoughta do somethin¡¯ about it as your guide!¡± Pail called out as loudly as a kid his size could.


    With a spring in his step, he ran out of the river with the fish firmly held in his little hands. It was actually quite impressive how a boy so young could wrangle a fish of that size as it flailed with all its might. A moment later, the fish¡¯s head was promptly crushed with a rock. Norman winced at the brutal death and quietly thanked the universe for not making him into a fish.


    ¡°You really caught one. I am very impressed.¡± Norman gave a weak thumbs up in support of Pail¡¯s efforts, even if the bloody scene of a beheaded fish made him feel quite queasy.


    [SILVAE IS A BRUTAL WORLD.]


    ¡°So it is. I suspect I will have to get used to it.¡± Norman sighed internally. Fish were one thing, but by the way Savant was talking, he doubted that this world¡¯s brutality only applied to animals.


    Norman was hungry, but as a civilized man, he would not eat raw fish in the middle of the woods. Sushi was fine, but that was prepared in a sterilized kitchen and thoroughly disinfected. A fish caught by a child in a river would give him some sort of magical parasite that would eat him from the inside. He wasn¡¯t going to let a kid eat uncooked food either.


    Setting up a fire was easier the second time. The sun was high in the sky, and he didn¡¯t waste 2 hours rubbing rocks together like a caveman. Within 10 minutes of stick gathering and glasses angling, the fire was ablaze. It didn¡¯t give him any sort of satisfaction like the first time, however.


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    [YOU LOOK LIKE A REAL PROFESSIONAL FIRE STARTER.]


    Savant sure was one for dry humor. Norman doubted if they really were soulmates or if the 99.6% compatibility rate was something it made up as a justification. They got along well enough, so Norman decided not to dwell on it and complicate their relationship. Instead, he called Pail over to bring the (now poorly gutted) fish.


    Inserting a stick through the poor fish¡¯s eye was a lot harder than Norman expected. Not because he was pitifully weak but because of the crushing guilt he felt when he looked into the beady little eye of the fish. He had to close his eyes and mutter an apology as he skewered it, making Pail giggle in the process. He could imagine that he looked like a spoiled prince to the homeless boy.


    ¡°Mister! What faraway place are ya from?¡± Pail asked while eyeing the slowly cooking fish. It was as if he was scared it would be stolen from him if he looked away.


    ¡°Somewhere without magic. And only inhabited by humans.¡± Norman felt that it was best not to make up some country just in case he ever came across someone who owned a map. At the same time, it felt kinda heavy to drop that he was from another world on a child.


    Norman assumed that Pail would be disappointed by his mundane birthplace, but his eyes just sparkled brighter. ¡°Really!? That sounds soooo cool, mister! You musta come from real far if the mana spring didn¡¯t reach ya!¡±


    Norman didn¡¯t know what a mana spring was, but he had too much to think about to really care. His life on Earth never deviated from his set schedule, even in the most dire of times, so all of these new concepts and sensations wore him out both mentally and physically. Information would make its way to him as long as he kept living in this world; there was no need to rush.


    Instead of responding, Norman grabbed the roasted fish and split the skewer in the middle. It was a very uneven division, with one side of the fish much bigger than the other. Like the good adult he was, he handed the biggest piece to Pail and got to work picking the bones out of his own piece.


    Pail didn¡¯t waste a moment digging into his part of the fish. His cheeks stuck out like a chipmunk as he shoved a big piece in his mouth, bones and all. The fish was bland and slightly undercooked, but to Pail, it was heaven. This was a good day. He got to meet a new person and eat cooked food in the span of a few hours. He only ever got cooked food on very special occasions back when he was with the angry men and the other kids, and even then, it was always cold.


    Norman wasn¡¯t as enthusiastic about his meal. It was bland and full of bones he had to spit out into his palm. It made him appreciate the convenience store meals he often ate after work. What he wouldn¡¯t do for a discounted egg sandwich right now. Despite his complaints, he ate it with the same stoic expression he always wore. Norman couldn¡¯t remember the last time he showed emotion in his face or voice¡ªif there was even a time when he did. He remembered his mother bringing him to many a psychiatrists as a child. None of them ever figured out why he didn¡¯t laugh or cry, but they decided it wasn¡¯t really a problem.


    [ARE YOU HAPPY?]


    It was an unexpected question from someone who could read his mind. Norman figured he was moderately happy. The kind of happy one should be in the office, pleasant yet subdued. If he was asked whether he was so happy that he¡¯d burst out laughing, then the answer was no. This was pleasant; he wasn¡¯t in pain or in any inconvenient situation. That was enough for him to say that, yes, he was moderately happy.


    ¡°I suppose I am happy in my own way.¡± Norman mused inwardly. Emotions were a complicated thing for him, and this was the best answer Savant would currently get.


    [HAPPY IN YOUR OWN WAY. I LIKE THAT.]


    <hr>


    After their meal and another drink of water, the two (three if you count Savant) of them were off again. Pail talked about all kinds of things, from the interesting bugs he¡¯s seen to questions about why clouds keep moving. The kid was like a constant stream of unfiltered thoughts. It made for a nice contrast with Norman¡¯s stoicism, even if it was a little grating. Norman gained a stamina point on their journey, which was nice. Even if it barely made any difference.


    ¡°Hey, mister! Whyd¡¯ya think dogs got them long snouts, but cats got a tiny one?¡± Pail asked his 14th question in the last hour. He was high on his excitement of finally having someone to talk to without either being squawked at by a bird or beaten for speaking out of turn.


    ¡°I am no expert, but I believe it has to do with the fact that wolves use their noses to track prey while cats use their eyes.¡± Norman dutifully answered Pail¡¯s questions to the best of his ability. He didn¡¯t fancy himself a teacher, but he hoped he got his points across.


    Many such animal questions followed. Why do bugs have shells? Why can¡¯t fish breathe on land? Why can¡¯t I breathe in water if there¡¯s oxygen in there? What is oxygen? On and on and on. Norman admired the boy¡¯s curiosity, but he hadn¡¯t spoken this much in years and was quite worn out. He contemplated teaching Pail the quiet game until a distant sound stopped them both in their tracks.


    It sounded like a pained howl.

 The Kit and The Playmates

    Pail darted towards the sound first. His fluffy wings were flapping behind him to help him go faster, but all that accomplished was making him far less aerodynamic. ¡°Come on, mister! That sounds like a doggy! We gotta help it!¡±


    Norman followed closely behind, taking long strides to keep up with the frantic running of Pail¡¯s little legs. He didn¡¯t care for the supposed dog; he even felt that approaching it was a bad idea in case it was being attacked by a predator, but being left alone in the forest without his guide felt like an even worse idea. He made a plan to pick up Pail and dart as fast as possible if there really was a beast waiting for them. A terrible plan considering his 3 stamina points.


    ¡°I would advise you to be careful. It might be dangerous.¡± Felt like an adequate warning to Norman, but it went through one of Pail¡¯s ears and out the other. As expected.


    Pail finally came face to face with whatever was making the noise. It was a jackal-like creature with large ears and a long, flowy tail. The creature¡¯s hind legs were pinned below a fallen tree. It must¡¯ve been rotten on the inside and fell over when the critter tried to climb it. Despite being the size of a Dobermann, it looked very pitiful as it howled for the pack that abandoned it.


    ¡°Mister! We gotta help it! It¡¯s jus¡¯ a puppy! It¡¯s gonna be okay, lil¡¯ puppy! Mister is gonna help ya!¡± Pail pet the creature as gently as he could. The jackal-like animal bared its teeth at him, but Pail interpreted the gesture as a smile of gratitude instead of a sign of aggression.


    Norman put his hands on his hips as he tried to grasp the situation. This animal seemed like a canine, and canines live in packs. If Pail is right, and this really was a puppy, there should be a pack desperate to get it out. The fact that it was alone meant that it was abandoned, and if it was an abandoned puppy, then he couldn¡¯t just free it and walk away.


    His choices were to either leave the puppy here to die while looking like a heartless monster to Pail. Save the puppy and let it free in the forest, where it would eventually starve or get eaten by predators. Or, the most humane yet inconvenient option¡ªsave the puppy and take it with them. Norman rubbed his temples in frustration. None of the options seemed like a good idea.


    [EMPATHY IS A FUNNY THING, ISN¡¯T IT?]


    ¡°That it is. Could you tell me more about this thing, please?¡± Norman needed more information to decide on what to do. If this was a species of animal that feasted on human flesh, then he¡¯d leave it without a second thought¡ªno matter how cute it was.


    [IT LOOKS LIKE A JUVENILE HULI JING. HULI JING ARE SHAPESHIFTING CREATURES BORN BETWEEN A FOX AND A BENEVOLENT SPIRIT. THIS PARTICULAR SPECIMEN IS TOO YOUNG TO MAKE USE OF IT¡¯S POWERS.]


    Ah. That was an inconvenient bit of information. If this was truly a spirit beast, then he couldn¡¯t just leave it here. Norman felt like doing so would bring a curse or ill omen on him, so he would take care of it to the best of his ability. Well, if it would even survive after being pinned under a tree for who knows how long.


    ¡°Alright. Back up a bit. I will try to get it out. I cannot promise that it will survive, but I will do my utmost to make sure it does.¡± Norman told Pail, being sure to set realistic expectations. The last thing he wanted was for his guide to be too distraught over a dead fox to guide him properly.


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    Pail gave the Huli Jing a last pet before he did as he was told and stood behind a nearby tree. He gave the not-puppy a pair of encouraging thumbs up while he watched the rescue from afar. Meanwhile, Norman rolled up his sleeves and got ready to perform the rescue of the century.


    There was no way he was going to be able to lift a massive tree stump by himself with his measly strength stat. Luckily, he was a modern man with all of human history behind him. Taking a page out of his ancestor¡¯s book, he found the sturdiest stick he could find and firmly wedged it under the tree. It made for a primitive yet effective lift.


    Norman put all his weight on the protruding stick. He didn¡¯t weigh all that much, but the tree trunk yielded with a deep groan. It lifted just enough for the Huli Jing to squirm its way out from danger and onto the forest floor. The stick Norman was standing on snapped right as the kit¡¯s tail made it out of the danger zone, narrowly avoiding crushing it to pieces. Both Pail and the kit let out a yelp of surprise at the loud snapping noise. Norman silently fell on his ass, not so much as letting out a gasp.


    +1 SP


    SP. Norman remembered that from his status. It had something to do with saving people¡¯s lives. If he got a point for this spirit fox, then it would probably be fine. He didn¡¯t really know how the whole SP system worked, but that was something to figure out when he was out of this very inconvenient situation.


    The Huli Jing was shaken, but other than that, it seemed miraculously unharmed. Even Norman had to admit that it was a very beautiful animal. Its fur was a mystical blue color that seemed to get lighter at the extremities. It had golden eyes that seemed to shift like desert sands and a long, misty tail that dissipated into smoke at the tip. It was the size of a large dog and would probably grow to the size of a horse as it aged.


    Pail, ignoring the kit¡¯s wariness, quickly wrapped his arms around its neck. The creature looked around in confusion as the child rubbed his face against its chest fluff, but it made no effort to bite or struggle free. It seemed it understood that it had been saved by these people.


    ¡°I¡¯m so glad ya aren¡¯t hurt too bad!¡± beamed Pail while nuzzling closer to the wild animal. ¡°I don¡¯t got a clue if ya¡¯re a boy or a girl, but ya look real purdy so I¡¯m gonna name ya Pretty!¡± Pail seemed very proud of his horrible naming sense, but it¡¯s not as if Norman expected him to do any better.


    Pretty gave him a yip of approval, happy to have been given a name. It curled its tail around Pail in a gesture of affection before hoisting him up on its back, making the boy squeal in delight. ¡°Look! Look, mister! Pretty wants to come with us! We gotta take ¡®em!¡±


    ¡°As long as they behave, I guess it¡¯s fine.¡± Norman was planning to take Pretty with him no matter what, but he felt that giving an impression of reluctance would give Pail a good reason to look after the creature. He would leave Pretty with the boy when he dropped him off at the orphanage, so strengthening their relationship would be a good thing in the long run.


    While Norman was resting from his strenuous workout (walking for an hour and lifting a slightly heavy object), Pail and Pretty did what children of all species do best: play. It was clear that neither the kit nor the boy had socialized with other children of their species before, as their games amounted to little more than running after each other. Perhaps because of this isolation, they bonded remarkably quickly.


    <hr>


    The trees kept getting sparser and sparser the further east they walked. Norman even spotted old bootprints every now and then. They were definitely getting closer to civilization, and Norman couldn''t wait to get a hot bath and a change of clothes. A proper meal and a drink wouldn¡¯t be so bad either.


    Pail, however, looked wary. He kept a tight grip on Pretty''s fur, and his tanned face seemed paler than before. His eyes darted all over the place before resting on Norman, the first adult who had been kind to him.


    ¡°Mister¡­ are ya gonna leave me n¡¯ Pretty in the forest once ya find ya way out?¡± Pail stammered; his voice was weak and shaky. He didn''t want to be left alone, not when he knew how nice people could be. Even if his bar for niceness was very low.


    Norman looked at the boy with an unreadable expression, not because it contained a mix of emotions but because it contained none. He didn''t understand why Pail thought he would leave him there. That would make him a bad citizen. The logical thing to do would be to leave the child with the proper authorities.


    ¡°Don''t worry. I will not leave you until we have found someplace you can be taken care of.¡± Norman responded with his usual flat tone. He gave the impression of someone uncaring but dependable, which wasn''t far from the truth.


    After that, Pail''s mood lightened, even though he remained quiet. Norman couldn''t blame him, as he could imagine the kid having a lot to think about. The silence was a peaceful break from the very eventful day. Well, eventful by Norman¡¯s standards. The peaceful atmosphere continued for a while, until it was broken by Savant.


    [THERE IS A ROAD UP AHEAD]

 The First Village and The Chicken Lady

    The muddy road beneath the group squelched with every step they took. It was a better walking experience than the rugged terrain of the forest, but only barely. Norman cringed inwardly whenever mud entered his expensive oxfords and soaked through his socks. If he had to compare the sensation to something, then he¡¯d liken it to the experience of unexpectedly vomiting all over your feet after a night of drinking. Unpleasant, to say the least.


    Pail walked on his own next to Pretty to give them some rest. Neither of them seemed bothered by the nearly un-walkable road. Pail kept stopping to pick up a handful of mud every now and then. He¡¯d carefully shape it into a ball as they walked, getting the mud all over himself and his clothes. Whenever he was finished with one of his mud balls, he¡¯d throw them as far as he could, only to start the process all over again.


    After an hour of walking, they could finally see the wooden walls of a village in the distance. It looked like a small and peaceful village, judging by the single guard at the gate wearing nothing but a sword on his hip. The guard perked up when he spotted the group, his aged brow furrowing in suspicion. Norman couldn¡¯t blame him. If he saw a man, a child, and a blue fox in the state they were in, he¡¯d also be wary.


    Pail felt uncomfortable under the man''s gaze and hid behind Norman for comfort, dirtying his suit even further. Pretty thought it was a game and hid behind Pail, making the whole group into a strange conga line as they approached the gate.


    ¡°What''s your business in Hardwood?¡± The guard asked gruffly, placing his rugged hand on the hilt of his sword.


    ¡°I can assure you that we mean no harm. We just got a bit lost in the woods and would like someplace to stay for the night.¡± Norman assured the guard while trying to look as professional as possible.


    ¡°And the beast?¡± The guard pointed his chin at Pretty, who was wagging their tail like no tomorrow.


    ¡°Rest assured. It is a pet and will do no harm.¡± Norman lied seamlessly. Pretty wasn¡¯t a pet; they were just tagging along for a while, and he had no idea if they would attack someone. Norman comforted himself by remembering that lying has its place in polite society.


    The guard flashed Pail his most reassuring smile as he approached the boy and spirit fox. However, this had the opposite effect: It scared the boy into shoving his head underneath Norman¡¯s suit jacket, convinced that if he couldn¡¯t see the guard, then the guard couldn¡¯t see him either.


    ¡°A shy one, huh?¡± The elderly guard chuckled. ¡°My boy was the same when he was that age. He would always hide under my wife¡¯s skirt whenever company came over. A real momma¡¯s boy, that one.¡±


    Norman felt like an inconvenient misunderstanding was forming. It was a better misunderstanding than the people of this world thinking of him as a kidnapper, so he just nodded in agreement. He would¡¯ve smiled if he had the ability to¡ªsmiling and nodding is the way out of every uncomfortable conversation, after all.


    ¡°Mind if I check if the beast¡¯s tame? Usually, they only let you enter with an animal if it was a tamer¡¯s collar, but considering the state you¡¯re in and the kid you got with you, I¡¯m just gonna do a quick test if you¡¯ll let me.¡± The guard¡¯s mood lightened after seeing Pail. He reminded him of his own son, who was all grown now. He went off to find fortune as an adventurer, but he hadn¡¯t come home to visit since.


    When Norman nodded in approval, the guard stuck his forearm in Pretty¡¯s face while keeping the other on the hilt of his sword. His vambrace would protect him if the beast decided to lunge, and he could swiftly cut its head off before it did any further damage. He didn¡¯t feel good about potentially beheading a beloved pet, but there were pregnant women and children in the village he had to protect.


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    Pretty curiously sniffed the rough-looking stranger. He smelled like dirt and steel with a hint of ale. It was different from the scent of sun and dust coming from the small friend or the smokey scent of the big clutz. Different, yes. But uninteresting. This person had the same scent as most people who entered the forest. With a swish of their tail, Pretty turned away, completely uninterested.


    ¡°Alright, this beast is a tame one. Be sure to get it a collar at a tamer¡¯s guild when you can. We don¡¯t have one in Hardwood, but Lugg has one; it¡¯s a day¡¯s walk from here.¡± The guard groaned as he stood up, clutching his back. He probably wouldn¡¯t be a guard for much longer.


    Norman sighed in relief that he hadn¡¯t picked up a public menace in the form of a fox. ¡°I will keep that in mind. Also, would you happen to know someplace that sells clothing? Both of us are in dire need of a change.¡± Norman asked, gesturing to his soaked suit and Pail¡¯s filthy rags.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find Patricia¡¯s shop if you keep walking straight down. She¡¯s a lovely girl who will be sure to give you a discount in your current state. Hers is the sign with a needle and thread on it.¡± The guard said with a kind smile as he waved them off. ¡°My name¡¯s Renold, by the way! Enjoy your time in Hardwood!¡±


    <hr>


    Pail got a sizable hard start as he zoomed through the village. He hadn¡¯t seen this many people since his time with the angry men. His eyes scanned the various storefronts and hanging signs lining the main street. He couldn¡¯t read, but that didn¡¯t seem to be a problem. Most shops had an emblem of what they sold inside. The blacksmith had a sign of an anvil, the baker a loaf of bread, and the inn had a bed.


    There were so many fun things to see in this new place, but Pail still whipped his head around every now and then to check if Norman was following. When he saw Norman and Pretty in the distance, he felt at ease. They¡¯d only known each other for a little while, but any person who shared their food with him was a good person he wanted to stay with. Finally, spotting the thread sign hanging on a quaint two-story house, Pail darted straight in.


    Patricia, the shopkeeper, was startled by the noise of the door flying open and let out a surprised ¡°Squak!¡±. Patricia was a Karura, a species of demon with the body of a human but the wings and head of a chicken. Embarrassed by her reaction, she straightened out her dress and headed to the front to greet her customer.


    When she found out her customer was a hybrid child, she felt apprehensive. Not because hybrids are bad per se, they were recognized citizens of both empires and have human rights. However, the unfortunate fact was that human adventurers often had their way with naive demon girls, leaving them with a hybrid child they couldn¡¯t take care of. These children usually get abandoned or sold into slavery, and Patricia simply wasn¡¯t capable of dealing with a runaway slave or abandoned child.


    Her worries were put to rest when a very out of breath human man entered her shop and scolded the boy for running so far ahead. They didn¡¯t seem to have a master and slave relationship by the way the boy was clinging to the man¡¯s clothes. The only reasonable assumption left was that they were father and son and that this human was one of the very few who took responsibility after a tryst. They didn¡¯t look alike, but demon genes work in mysterious ways.


    After an appropriate amount of chiding, Norman turned to face the shopkeeper. It was impossible to tell, but he practically jumped out of his skin when he came face to face with the chicken headed woman. He had expected that monster people existed in this world ever since the mention of harpies, but this was a bit much to take in.


    Ever the gentleman, Norman decided to look past the chickeny exterior and gave the woman an acknowledging nod. ¡°Good afternoon. Do you happen to have a change of clothes for me and the boy? We don¡¯t need anything fancy, just something clean.¡±


    Patricia noticed their abysmal state for the first time and quickly got to work finding clothes for the pair. The man was easy; he was a lot skinnier than most men in Hardwood, but he would fit in most clothes meant for new adventurers. A dark blue tunic and pants would suit him nicely. The boy, however, was trickier. As a Karura, she was used to having to sew wing holes for herself and her daughters. But the problem with that was that she only had little girl¡¯s clothes available for avian children.


    After a bit more rummaging, she found something that could pass for a boy¡¯s clothes. A white tunic with flower embroidery around the neck and sleeves, frilly brown shorts tied with a ribbon, and embroidered sandals. It was clearly a set for a little girl, but it was between that and a frilly green dress that her eldest daughter used to wear.


    While the hunt for clothes happened in the back of the shop, Norman was panicking in the front.

 The Clothes and The Bath

    This was bad. How could he have forgotten about this? He was supposed to be an expert in all things money yet he forgot that the money in his wallet is useless in this world? This wasn¡¯t good. Not good at all. He would end up looking like a fool if he tried to pay with paper money, and they certainly wouldn¡¯t take his credit card. (He was a platinum member, by the way!)


    [YOU SEEM DISTRESSED.]


    Norman stopped his anxious foot-tapping when Savant¡¯s presence brought him out of his panicked state. If anyone knew what to do, it would have to be Savant, right?


    ¡°Savant! Please help me out here. I am terribly embarrassed at this oversight.¡± He conveyed through his thoughts. Being able to communicate telepathically was very convenient in times like this.


    [THE EXCHANGE RATE FROM DOLLARS TO LAPIS IS 1 TO 3.]


    Exchange rate? That would be great if he had an interdimensional exchange office around the corner, but that wasn¡¯t the case. Was Savant messing with him? Why would it give him this useless information¡­. OH! The realization hit him so comically that one could practically see the light bulb above his head. He had a skill called exchange, didn¡¯t he?


    EXCHANGE (LVL 1)


    Exchange an item you are holding for an item of equal value. The item has to fit in the palm of your hand, as does the item you are exchanging it for.


    Cooldown: 10 Minutes ¡ª MP: 3


    Exchange. It cost him all of his newly generated mana, so he would have one shot at this. It didn¡¯t say if he could specify what he wanted or if the exchange was random. What if he exchanged all of his earth money for something useless like a statue or decorative bowl of fruit? It was just a gamble he would have to take. He quickly fished around his inner suit pocket for his wallet. It was a fancy leather wallet with a red trim. It was a gift from his father when he got his first job, and he¡¯s used it ever since.


    Norman hoped he had enough cash in his wallet for a worthwhile exchange. He found coins and bills cumbersome, especially with the convenience of tap-to-pay being brought to most stores. Thankfully he always kept emergency cash on him, just in case a magnetic wave hits the earth and disables all digitalized payment systems. He remembered Zack from marketing commenting on how stupid that was, but look who¡¯s laughing now, Zack!


    The wallet contained $370. This would hopefully net him 1110 Lapis, a good amount to start with, in Norman¡¯s opinion. He mentally went through what he had to do to activate his magic and the feeling of casting it. He concentrated on the money in his palm and emptied his mind. As he felt the mana gather around his palm he began inwardly chanting.


    ¡°Exchange to Lapis. Exchange to Lapis. Exchange to Lapis.¡± He hoped that the mana would read his thoughts and do as he wished. If he got something random, well, then this skill was useless and he would have to sleep in the streets.


    [EXCHANGE]


    As the golden words filled his mind, the crumpled notes and coins in his hand dissipated into the air. Norman thought he had messed up the spell somehow and lost all his money before a much heavier leather pouch appeared where the bills once were. Success! Probably. It looked like a coin pouch, and it felt like a coin pouch, but was it a duck?


    Sure enough, the bag was filled with coins of different sizes. The large coins had a picture of a human queen on one side and a demon king on the other. The medium-sized coins featured a sword and a magic staff, and the smallest coins had a human hand and a claw, respectively. Norman rightfully assumed that these were Lapis coins. He would ask Savant for an in-depth explanation later.


    As if on cue, Patricia walked out from the back, holding 2 pairs of clothes. She laid them out on the counter for inspection as she chatted about the different materials and how to wash them properly. The material was rough, and Norman cringed slightly at the thought of having to feel the texture against his skin. He wasn¡¯t very good at textures.


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    ¡°This is the best we¡¯ve got! I promise it¡¯s quality goods. Just take a look at this embroidery on the children¡¯s clothes. My daughter did that herself! She¡¯s a talented young lady, isn¡¯t she?¡± Patricia droned on, her long nails circling various parts of the garments, making a show of the whole thing. Norman assumed she was excited to have new customers for the first time in a while, and he assumed correctly.


    Hardwood was a village that rarely got visitors as it was, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. It was surrounded by other, slightly larger villages, like Lugg, but it would take weeks to get to an actual town. The only reason the village even had an inn was because adventurers sometimes came around to train in the woods.


    ¡°It¡¯s 10 Lapis for the adult clothes and 15 Lapis for the kid¡¯s clothes. Normally the kid¡¯s clothes would be cheaper but look at how lovely and detailed they are. They¡¯re practically fit for a noble child!¡± Patricia gloated, trying to sell her daughter as a master embroiderer.


    [TWO MEDIUM COINS AND FIVE SMALL COINS.]


    Norman profusely thanked Savant in his mind for helping him avoid an awkward conversation about what coins were worth with the shopkeeper. He fished out two medium coins and five small coins out of his pouch and put them on the counter. Patricia inspected the coins before putting them in her own pouch and waving them off.


    The clothes were wrapped in rough fabric to protect them. Norman couldn¡¯t stand the unpleasant rough texture, so he handed the bundle to Pail with the explicit instruction not to drop it. Pail held it close to his chest, beaming at the thought of getting new clothes for the first time in his life. Really pretty ones too!


    Pretty opened one of their eyes as Norman and Pail approached. They had been sleeping outside the shop under the curious gazes of the village children. They had made a game out of approaching the spirit fox and poking it before running away. Pretty wanted to bite their hands to teach them a lesson, but if they did that, then they wouldn¡¯t be able to play with the little friend anymore.


    <hr>


    The village¡¯s inn was small and deserted. The only people inside were the half-asleep elderly man at the counter and his teenage daughter. They bought this inn a few years ago for cheap but have seen little success since. They were kept afloat by the few adventurers that visited now and then, but they rarely stuck around for long.


    The man at the counter was startled awake as people entered for the first time in a long time. He¡¯d first thought it was one of his drinking friends coming to pester him but quickly sat straight up when he didn¡¯t recognize the group entering. They were a filthy lot. A man covered in mud, a hybrid child with tangled hair, and a spirit fox. The inn owner didn¡¯t mind; a filthy customer was better than no customer.


    ¡°Excuse me. We would like a two bed room, as well as a bath, please.¡± Norman told the man at the desk. By the fancy way he was talking, the inn owner assumed he was a former noble who fell on hard times.


    ¡°No need to speak so fancy! My name¡¯s Will, and my daughter in the back is Macy. A room will be 2 Lapis a night; baths and food are an extra Lapis each.¡± Will explained, his voice had a thick drawl from somewhere Norman didn¡¯t recognize.


    Four small coins were exchanged, and Norman was given a room key and directions to a room with a bath on the lower floor. Norman found it a bit inconvenient that the room with the bath and the room for sleeping were on opposite ends of the inn, but he wouldn¡¯t complain now when he could finally get clean.


    The bathing room in question only contained an empty wooden tub, a stool, a rag for scrubbing, and fat-smelling soap. Ah¡­ this wasn¡¯t the hot bubble bath Norman had been waiting for. This had to be some sort of mistake! The tub didn¡¯t even have water! Just when he was about to go complain, the innkeeper¡¯s daughter, Macy, popped her head in.


    ¡°I got ya water from the well! Some extra service for ya just ¡®cause the dog¡¯s cute! Usually, you gotta collect it yourself!¡± Macy grinned. She was carrying a large bucket full of cold water and tipped it in the wooden tub. Norman had to commend her strength.


    Well. Now they had water. Cold cold water. He should¡¯ve figured that a village in the middle of nowhere wouldn¡¯t have warm water. At least there was soap, even if it smelled strange. He would just have to bite his tongue and deal with it; that was what he did best, after all.


    After waving the monstrously strong girl off, he helped Pail get undressed. Pail was a magnitude more filthy than himself, so the boy took priority. Pail barely fit in the tub due to the size of his wings, but he didn¡¯t seem to mind. He was just happy to take a bath like a normal child instead of being hosed down by water magic.


    After about an hour of scrubbing years of dirt off, Pail was sufficiently clean. His complexion turned from an ashy brown-gray to a warm chestnut shade; he almost looked like a new person entirely. Norman gave him his emergency comb from his briefcase to busy himself with while Norman cleaned both himself and Pretty up.


    Norman had to sheepishly ask for another bucket of water, as the bath water was a murky brown after Pail¡¯s bath. With the new, clear, water, he thoroughly washed all the beast slobber out of his black hair. It had dried into a flaky coating that made him gag as he washed it out. The rest of his body got an equally thorough washing to make up for not having his daily showers.


    Pretty was simply doused in the rest of the water. Their fur clung to their body like a wet rat, making Pail giggle uncontrollably. Pretty looked almost betrayed when they looked at Norman. ¡°How could the big human do such a thing? I knew this was a water ritual, but why me too?¡±


    When everyone was sufficiently clean, Norman put on his new clothes before helping Pail put on his. Norman¡¯s clothes were very basic: a dark blue tunic, black long pants, and sandals. He felt like crawling out of his skin while he wore them, and he hoped he would get used to them soon. The clothes made him look a lot younger. Maybe it was because of how baggy they were, or maybe he was just used to how his suit aged him.


    Pail happily twirled around in his new clothes. He was over the moon at wearing something clean and unused for the first time. He didn¡¯t seem to mind, or know, that he was wearing clothes meant for a girl. His wings were dripping all over the floor as he twirled, something he didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    Now, clothed and housed, Norman had to figure out what he was meant to do in this world.

 The Hard Bed and The Noble Stew

    The room was simple. Two simple wooden beds, a rickety wardrobe, a desk, and a wooden chamber pot. Norman¡¯s back made a loud popping sound as he lay down on the bed. It was hard as rock, with a single off-colored sheet on top. Norman felt it was only marginally better than sleeping on the ground. The extra storage was nice, as was the feeling of a roof over his head, but the chamber pot stuck out like a sore thumb. It made him miss his bidet at home.


    Pail was busy going through every corner of the room with amazement. He¡¯d never seen such a fancy room before, and he felt like a king. He looked through the closet and under the beds to check for any hidden treasures. A small metal button was lodged between the bedframe and the wall, and it was quickly shoved into Pail¡¯s pocket for safekeeping. Pail liked collecting things. In the woods, he had a sizable collection of fun shaped rocks and cool sticks, but this button was prettier than all of them.


    Pretty didn¡¯t feel much about their temporary home. They missed their burrow, where they lived with their fox mother, but they felt bitter at being abandoned. Pretty remembered their mother¡¯s cold and animalistic eyes as she left them under that tree. They decided not to dwell on the past, curled up in a corner, and went to sleep.


    ¡°Alright. Now that we¡¯re both safe and clean, I have a lot of questions I want to ask.¡± Norman told Savant through his thoughts. He preferred to speak out loud to keep his thoughts and words separate, but he would have to deal with it until the boy went to sleep.


    [WHAT DO YOU WISH TO KNOW? AS A KNOWLEDGE SYSTEM, I CAN ANSWER ALMOST ALL OF YOUR QUESTIONS]


    ¡°Almost all of them? What can¡¯t you answer?¡± Norman asked; it was an off-topic question, but it scratched his curiosity bone. His curiosity bone was located where his funny bone would be if he understood humor.


    [I CANNOT ANSWER THINGS I DO NOT KNOW. WHAT SOMEONE IS DOING, WHAT SOMEONE IS THINKING, OR ANYTHING TO DO WITH DEATH AND BIRTH.]


    That made sense. Savant seemed nigh omnipotent since it had the whole disembodied text thing going on, but it really was just a parasite who would easily die without him. ¡°I see. Well, to start with, may I ask about how the currency system works in this world?¡±


    Norman fished through the coin pouch and pulled out one large, medium, and small coin and lined them up on the bed. A thought about where the money from the exchange came from crossed his mind, but he pushed it away; dwelling on such things wouldn¡¯t be productive. He looked at the coins in front of him and appreciated their design. They were all in different shades of blue. Norman wondered if they were dyed that way or if Silvae had a blue metal.


    [LARGE COINS ARE WORTH 100 LAPIS, MEDIUM COINS ARE WORTH 10 LAPIS, SMALL COINS ARE WORTH 1 LAPIS.]


    [A LARGE COIN CAN BUY A HORSE, A MEDIUM COIN CAN BUY A BOW, AND A SMALL COIN CAN BUY A LOAF OF BREAD. DOES THAT MAKE IT CLEAR?]


    ¡°Very much so. Thank you, Savant.¡± Norman was glad that it was an easy system to remember. Base 10 made the most sense for mental maths, making for easy calculations. He had worked in an office in base 7 when he was new to the job market, and he quickly quit afterward.


    If it cost 100 Lapis to buy one horse, and he had 1085 Lapis, wouldn¡¯t that make him relatively wealthy? He thanked his past self a second time for thinking ahead and carrying cash. If he had that much money, he had a lot of room to work with. He leaned against the bedframe as he began making a mental plan for the near future.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    According to the guard, the nearest village from here is Lugg, where he could get a collar for Pretty. There, he would have to either rent a carriage or walk to the nearest town, where he would leave Pretty and Pail at an orphanage if there was one. Those were good short-term plans, but he had no idea about the long-term. Maybe he could buy a small property in a large town and work at their bank or at a private trading company. Was that an okay thing to do? Savant told him to do whatever he wanted, but didn¡¯t people summoned from another world usually have some cumbersome quest to do? Norman had been subconsciously waiting for some grand quest to appear, one he didn¡¯t want to do.


    ¡°Could you tell me about MP and SP?¡± Norman asked, trying to get his mind off all the annoying things like grand adventures.


    [MP IS GATHERED FROM THE AIR THROUGH MANA RECEPTROS OVER TIME. YOU CAN HOLD A MAXIMUM OF 3 FOR NOW. YOU WILL BE ABLE TO HOLD MORE AS YOU GET EXPOSED TO MORE MANA.]


    So it is just replenished by doing nothing, then. Like a plant taking the sun using chlorophyll, the people in this world were taking in mana using mana receptors. An image of a person stuck in a flowerpot flashed in his mind, probably sent through his link with Savant. Norman couldn¡¯t understand Savant; they were both alike, yet not alike at all. Norman was an only child, but he guessed that this was what having an older sibling felt like. All-knowing yet annoying, familiar but different.


    [SP IS A STAT UNIQUE TO LAW MAGIC. YOU GET SPIRIT POINTS FOR EVERY LIFE YOU SAVE, DIRECTLY OR INDIRECTLY. YOU CAN USE YOUR SP TO LOWER AN ENEMY¡¯S HP. ONE SP REMOVES ONE HP.]


    Norman pushed the LIFE SWAP skill into one of his mental drawers for now. He doubted he would kill anyone soon nor save enough people to make the skill viable. Both EXCHANGE and GOLDEN EYE were fantastic skills for him, so the uselessness of LIFE SWAP didn¡¯t sting very much. Maybe if he invented a new medicine and saved a million people, it would make him a god of death with the skill, or maybe not. Norman didn¡¯t really care.


    <hr>


    Pail gently tugged on the kind mister¡¯s pant leg to get his attention. Mister seemed to be concentrating on something, and he didn¡¯t want to be rude, but he also didn¡¯t have the impulse control yet to wait. This mister promised not to beat him, so bothering him was probably fine.


    ¡°Mister, I¡¯m hungry,¡± Pail admitted hesitantly while covering his head with his hands. He just now realized that the kind mister might not be a kind mister at all. The angry men pulled his hair and dragged him across the floor whenever he asked for food in the past, and now he was worried this mister would do the same.


    The kind mister looked up with his usual blank expression. Pail could never get a read on what he was thinking or how he felt. It was a far better expression than the angry scowls or disgusted gazes from the adults he knew in the past, though. The kind mister had never once looked at him as if he was less than a person, and that made Pail happy.


    ¡°Hungry? Right. So am I. The innkeeper said they offer food here; hopefully, it¡¯s better than the fish we ate yesterday.¡± The mister agreed without any emotion. He just stood up and headed towards the door, where he waved his hand for Pail to follow.


    Pail felt immense relief when he knew he wasn¡¯t going to be hit. He clenched the button in his pocket and quickly followed. He had to walk fast to keep up with the wide steps of the mister, but he didn¡¯t mind. The comment about the fish puzzled him. What could possibly taste better than that? It was cooked and warm and the best thing Pail had ever tasted. The mister was probably a prince from somewhere if he had eaten better food than that before.


    Pail and the mister were sat at a table in the biggest part of the inn. It was empty except for the two of them and the redheaded human girl. She made him a bit nervous, the way she talked was so loud, and she looked super strong. Pail wanted to pet Pretty for comfort, but they were left in the room. Pail rationalized that they were left there because foxes can¡¯t sit in chairs.


    After a few minutes, Pail was greeted by a hot bowl of soup in front of him. It reminded him of the cold gruel he used to eat before, but warm. Pail grinned when he saw the mister poke around in the bowl. ¡°I knew ya were fibbin¡¯, mister! Ain¡¯t nothing better n¡¯ that fish,¡± he thought as he shoved a spoonful into his mouth.


    He was wrong; the mister didn¡¯t fib at all. This was so much better than the fish. It was warm and filling, salty and flavorful. When he thought it couldn¡¯t get better, he bit down on a chunk of dried meat. They must¡¯ve given him a meal for nobles by mistake. There simply was no other explanation. Pail quickly shoveled the food into his mouth, guarding his food in case someone would come and steal it from him. He and the other kids usually had to fight for the cold and flavorless food when they were with the angry misters; Pail could only imagine that everyone in the world would fight for a meal as fine as this.

 The Dream and The Snowy Field

    The food was bland but bearable. That was Norman¡¯s review of it, at least. Pail fell asleep at the table, his face narrowly missing the bowl of soup in front of him. Carrying the boy upstairs was quite the ordeal. He wasn¡¯t heavy, far from it, but the wings made him very awkward to hold. After a lot of struggling, Norman threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Pail¡¯s feathers tickled his nose this way, and he had to spend all his willpower not to sneeze and wake the kid up.


    He finally put the boy down on the bed before stretching his back. Norman hadn¡¯t carried anything other than his suitcase in a good while. He¡¯d spent 1 Lapis to buy some extra dried meat from the inn, and he threw it at Pretty¡¯s feet. He had no idea what spirit foxes ate, but it was probably meat, judging by the way Pretty happily dug into the jerky.


    Norman flopped down on his own bed, knocking the air out of his lungs as he forgot that the bad was basically nothing more than a plank of wood. Being the orderly man he was, he had an extensive bedtime routine back on earth, one he couldn¡¯t care less about right now. Norman let sleep overtake him as he fell into a deep slumber.


    <hr>


    As soon as his eyes shut, Norman found himself in another place entirely. A flat, snowy plain surrounded him for as far as he could see. The sky was pitch black, only contrasted by the falling snow. Norman worried that he was transported into yet another, much less livable, world somehow, but when he looked down to find his body gone, he realized he was dreaming. Norman hadn¡¯t dreamt in years, not with all the melatonin he took.


    Norman began walking forward. No matter how far he walked, everything looked the same: a black sky above and white ground below. It was snowing, but he didn¡¯t feel cold at all, probably because this was a dream. As he kept walking, he spotted something in the distance and started power-walking towards it. He could win awards for his immaculate power-walking, honed from years rushing to meetings and catching trains.


    After a good round of power-walking, he came face to face with whatever the figure was. It was a man sitting at an old box computer, the kind they had back in the 80s. The man had light gray skin, dark gray hair, and round glasses so thick that they obscured his eyes. He looked human for the most part¡ªif one ignored the sharp teeth and third eye on his forehead.


    His desk was littered with canned coffee and paperwork, a familiar sight for Norman. The man looked dumbfounded as he leaned sideways to look at Norman. He looked him up and down before quickly typing something on the computer. A loud clacking sound filled the silence for a while until the man took a quick glance at the framed photo on his desk, then back at Norman again.


    ¡°They never told me about this. I would¡¯ve cleaned up if I knew you were coming.¡± The man said awkwardly. He seemed like the shy type, much like Norman himself.


    ¡°Forgive me for my unannounced visit. I didn¡¯t know I would be coming either.¡± Norman nodded politely. It was better to be polite, even in dreams. It set a precedent, or so he told himself.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re here now. Make yourself comfortable, or don¡¯t, I don¡¯t mind.¡± The man responded, gesturing to something behind Norman.


    When he turned around to see what he was gesturing at, he saw a nice leather couch and coffee table where there once was nothing. Norman took a seat as instructed, keeping his hands folded neatly on his lap and his back straight. That was the way he had been taught to sit when at someone else''s house. That was the polite way to sit.


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    The two of them spent a long time in silence, with only the sound of the man¡¯s keyboard filling the air. It was awkward, very awkward, yet strangely comfortable. It felt like staying at a distant family member¡¯s house, or maybe a new lover¡¯s. Norman didn¡¯t have a romantic bone in his body (it was removed alongside his funny bone), but he could still imagine what it would be like. Comfortable, strange, and awkward was his guess. Just like this was. Actually, it probably involved a lot more kissing.


    ¡°Would you like to kiss me?¡± The man piped up as if reading his thoughts. He probably could, since this was a dream.


    ¡°No thank you,¡± Norman responded almost instantly. Having his first kiss in a dream felt a bit too pathetic, even for him.


    Most men would¡¯ve been more upset that they were offered a kiss by another man instead of being upset about looking pathetic for kissing a dream. Norman wasn¡¯t like most men. He didn¡¯t see much difference between men and women. He found both genders just as unremarkable as each other. All his life, he¡¯d been told that he should like women; he should find their bodies sexy and their faces attractive, but he didn¡¯t. Not for a lack of trying, of course. Long ago, spent some of his allowance on an adult magazine he saw a boy at school read behind the gym, but all he got out of that experience was the knowledge that some people are much hairier than others.


    He was glad that his supposed soulmate was a genderless block of text. It was easier that way. Having to engage in all the things a human relationship requires seemed both exhausting and uncomfortable. It was supposedly one of the three basic human needs and one of the greatest feelings in the world, but he didn¡¯t buy it. The greatest feeling in the world to Norman was seeing the final sheet of a yearly budget report being printed.


    ¡°You are perfect the way you are, Norman.¡± The man at the computer chimed in, breaking Norman out of his train of thought.


    ¡°Thank you. I must have a lot of subconscious insecurities if they come out in a dream like this,¡± Norman mused as he looked around the snowy plain. He thought he felt content with himself, and he was, for the most part. It made him wonder why he would have a dream like this.


    Sure, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a regular person, but they were nothing more than fleeting thoughts. Most of the things regular people did on a regular basis seemed inefficient and annoying to Norman. From asking about how everyone¡¯s day is going every day, to going to weddings or New Year parties. No, normal people were loud, inefficient, and uninteresting. Norman was perfectly fine with not being like them.


    ¡°I wonder if I was really transported into another world or if I¡¯ll wake up in my apartment tomorrow,¡± Norman asked himself. Everything he had experienced so far was so improbable that it might as well be impossible. He didn¡¯t even know why he believed it in the first place.


    ¡°Sorry, you¡¯re still in Hardwood Village in Silvae,¡± The man at the computer responded with a slight chuckle. He looked entertained by Norman¡¯s wandering mind. Norman wasn¡¯t very good at facial expressions, but he was pretty sure the one that the computer man wore was one of amusement.


    ¡°Is that so,¡± Norman sighed, ¡°What am I meant to do here, then? I keep waiting for a grand mission to appear and make my life inconvenient. I wish it would come soon so I can firmly decline it as soon as possible.¡±


    The man laughed endearingly at that, and his eyes were filled with fondness. ¡°There¡¯s not going to be any mission, Norman. If you want one, then I¡¯ll give you one.¡± He did some magic-like waving with his hands (that did absolutely nothing) as he spoke. ¡°Norman Persson, your grand quest in Silvae is to live however you want. Emphasis on the living part.¡±


    Was there really no great purpose he had to fulfill, or was this just his subconscious telling him stuff he wanted to hear? Either way, it was comforting. He wouldn¡¯t mind dreaming more if all dreams were this insightful. The last dream he remembered having was a stressful fever dream about waiting in a long line to get into a bunker while the world filled with lava.


    ¡°You should probably wake up right about now. You¡¯re about to die of suffocation, you know.¡± Those were the man''s parting words as Norman woke up.

 The General Store and The Bunny Girl

    Norman woke up with a mouth full of feathers and his vision full of yellow. He spat the feathers out of his mouth and carefully lifted the giant wing covering most of his upper body. Pail, scared of being alone, had snuck into his bed in the middle of the night. That itself was fine; he could understand a child being scared in an unfamiliar place at night, but he would appreciate it if the boy closed his wings while he slept instead of spreading out all his limbs in an avant-garde gymnastics pose.


    [GOOD MORNING, NORMAN.]


    ¡°Good morning, Savant. Why didn¡¯t you tell me I was about to die by suffocation by feathers? I had to be told in a dream.¡± Norman grumbled. If Savant wanted him alive so badly, then it should warn him about these things.


    [...]


    Norman took Savant¡¯s silence as remorse and decided to be the bigger symbiont and let the issue go. The dream person his subconscious made up had told him about it, so it wasn¡¯t worth dwelling on. For some reason, he could feel irritation coming from his mental link with Savant. Strange.


    To be honest, Norman was a little lost on what to do. The plan was to head to the slightly larger village of Lugg, but he would need to prepare for such a journey. Sure, it was only a day away, but it would certainly take longer with both a kid and a fox to accommodate. If he factored in all the toilet breaks, meal breaks, and breaks for his pitiful stamina, then it would be closer to a day and a half. If it was a day and a half, then they would need to camp out, and to do that, they would need supplies.


    Norman could feel his to-do list getting longer and longer the more he thought about logistics. Why couldn¡¯t this world just have a taxi service like back home? Maybe he could rent a carriage. That would¡¯ve been a great idea if he knew how to steer a carriage. He¡¯d never even been near a horse before, not even when he went on a school excursion to a ranch. He was too afraid to get kicked in the head by a horse, so he spent the entire trip learning about different kinds of weeds. It was a very informative trip.


    Invasive plant species aside, Norman still had to prepare for the trip to Lugg. Today would be the preparation day, and tomorrow they would set off as soon as the sun rose. As for what he needed to prepare, he could ask about it in the village¡¯s general store; they would probably know best. Norman felt another wave of irritation wash over him for a split second, but he chalked it up to travel nerves.


    <hr>


    After the tedious ordeal of wrangling an excited 6-year-old into getting dressed and an equally excited fox kit into sitting still, they were ready to head off into the village. The day hadn¡¯t even gotten started properly yet, but Norman felt like he¡¯d just finished an 8-hour shift. He had a renewed respect for single mothers if they had to deal with this every morning. Norman could feel a sense of pity coming from Macy as he ushered everyone out the front door.


    The village of Hardwood was small and isolated, making Norman and his crew very interesting to the villagers. He could feel their curious gazes on him, and he had no idea how to handle it properly. Norman had always been the ideal background character back on Earth. He blended in so well that even his family struggled to pick him out from a crowd. Norman prided himself on his conformity, which made him think he was doing a good job at being human, so being stared at like this made him very uncomfortable.


    Norman relaxed slightly as they entered what he assumed was the general store. They¡¯d left Pretty outside for politeness''s sake, of course. The general store was filled to the brim with everyday items. Bags of grain stuffed under tables filled with cloth and utensils filled the room. Pots and pans hung from the low ceiling, and tall shelves full of ropes, canisters, riding gear, and other useful items lined the walls. An elderly bunny woman was sitting behind the counter, mumbling to herself and sucking on a piece of lettuce. Norman found it startling how easily he got used to these anthropomorphic animals.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    While Norman endlessly repeated his questions to the almost deaf shopkeeper, Pail decided to explore this miracle store and its treasures. He had never seen so many things in one place before, and he figured that this was where all the villagers kept their things safe. He made sure to be extra careful if that was the case; he wouldn¡¯t like it if anyone messed up his own treasures, so he wouldn¡¯t mess up the villagers'' treasures either. Just looking wouldn¡¯t hurt, though. Right?


    As Pail browsed through the things on display, he imagined himself as a rich prince who owned them all. He would light the candles when he hosted fancy dinners using the pretty wooden bowls with flower designs, and then he would build something really cool in the royal garden with the rope and the box of nails. His daydreaming was interrupted as he tripped on a piece of blue fabric sticking out from under one of the tables.


    Pail caught himself and ended up in a crouching position, where he had a clear view of the thing under the table. It was a girl in a blue dress who only looked a few years older than Pail. She had the features of a human but with long floppy rabbit ears covering most of her face. She looked very surprised to see someone new, especially another hybrid like her. She¡¯d heard from her mother that there were others like her out there, but this was the first time she¡¯d ever seen one.


    ¡°Hello! I¡¯m Pail! They named me that ¡®cause they found me in the pail of a well! What¡¯s ya name?¡± Pail introduced himself happily. He was very wary of strangers, but he was comfortable with hybrids as he lived with a whole bunch of them when he was with the angry men.


    ¡°Serena¡­ my name is Serena¡­ I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m named that¡­¡± Serena responded quietly. She felt that Pail wasn¡¯t a very nice name for such a pretty girl like the one in front of her, but she wouldn¡¯t say that out loud. She fidgeted with her brown hair as she talked, something she always did when she was nervous. ¡°Are you a half-demon like me?¡±


    ¡°Yuh uh! I don¡¯t got a clue who my parents are, but I know my momma is a harpy, and my pops is a human. What¡¯s yours?¡± Pail had no problems talking about the fact that he was abandoned. He didn¡¯t know these supposed parents of his, but because they abandoned him, he didn¡¯t wanna meet them even if he was able to.


    Serena thought the girl in front of her was quite pitiful. She loved her parents and would be very sad if they left her somewhere. She wondered why Pail didn¡¯t feel the same. ¡°My mom is human, and my dad is a lepui like my grandma¡­ they live here with me¡± She felt like she was bragging about her parents being with her, and that wasn¡¯t her intention.  ¡°Are you¡­ alone?¡±


    Pail, however, didn¡¯t even pick up on the unintentional bragging. He was just happy to say that he wasn¡¯t alone for once. ¡°Nuh uh! I¡¯ve gots the kind mister and Pretty! Pretty is a real purdy fox, and mister doesn¡¯t even beat me! Ain¡¯t ya jealous?¡±


    Serena just smiled and nodded at that. She was glad that Pail wasn¡¯t alone. Her mother had told her stories about young girls being kidnapped by bandits whenever they wandered alone outside the village, and she didn¡¯t want that to happen to her new friend. She didn¡¯t know why not being beaten was something to mention. That was normal, wasn¡¯t it? Unless Pail meant spanking, then she was jealous. Serena always got spanked by her grandma whenever she stayed out late.


    Their conversation was halted by the monotone voice of Norman. ¡°Pick out a bag. One with a lot of storage space.¡± He called over his shoulder at Pail before going back to shouting at the old shopkeeper, hoping she¡¯d pick up on at least a few words despite her hearing difficulties.


    Pail¡¯s eyes sparkled at that. He was allowed to pick something out in this treasure trove? A bag just for him? He quickly ran over to where the bags were hanging, with Serena following closely behind. They sold a surprising amount of bags in all shaped and sizes. Bags were essential items to both adventurers and regular people, after all. Most of them were too big for him, and his wings would get in the way of a backpack. Even so, he had quite a few to choose between.


    ¡°I think¡­ the one with the flowers suits you best. Since you¡¯re so pretty.¡± Serena offered her suggestion, pointing at a brown leather satchel bag with embroidered flowers on the front and shoulder strap. ¡°It matches your clothes, too.¡±


    Pail was inclined to agree. He liked colors, and that one was the most colorful option. Pail had never lived in normal society and, therefore, had never learned about gender roles. It never even crossed his mind that his new friend was mistaking him for a girl and was suggesting a bag that was in fashion only amongst little girls.


    ¡°Mhm, I like that one. I¡¯m gonna tell mister!¡± Pail nodded as he skipped off to tell the frustrated Norman which bag he wanted.

 The Packed Bag and The Chatroom

    ¡°Do you know the safest route to Lugg?¡± Norman asked for the 14th time in a row.


    ¡°HUUUUH? LUGG? YEAH I KNOW IT! GOOD VILLAGE, THAT PLACE!¡± The old lepui woman behind the counter yelled back. She looked at least a hundred years old, and despite her large bunny ears, she couldn¡¯t hear a thing.


    ¡°HOW DO I GET TO LUGG?!¡± Norman yelled back. Monotone yelling is quite difficult to pull off, so the fact that Norman could yell was impressive¡­ sorta.


    ¡°DIRECTIONS, EH? JUST GO NORTH AND FOLLOW THE ROAD SIGNS! THERE AIN¡¯T ANY BANDITS ¡®ROUND THESE PARTS! THAT¡¯S JUST WHAT WE TELL THE CHILDREN SO THEY¡¯LL BEHAVE!¡± The bunny woman cackled in that way only old ladies can.


    Norman felt a sense of triumph when he finally got directions out of the granny. He¡¯d spent almost an hour getting her to present the needed items for their journey, and that was his final question. While he was rummaging through his coin pouch for payment, he felt a tug on his sleeve. When he looked down, he saw not one but two children looking up at him. He internally panicked at the thought of his responsibilities doubling.


    ¡°Mister! I want this one! Look! It¡¯s got lotsa flowers on it, ya see? Serena picked it out for me! She¡¯s my new pal, ain¡¯t that right? Her grandma runs this store! Ain¡¯t that cool?¡± Pail babbled excitedly as he put the satchel on the desk. Serena nodded shyly in agreement at being called a friend.


    Norman sighed in relief when Pail confirmed that the girl wasn¡¯t another helpless orphan. He was happy that Pail had found a friend his age; it meant he wouldn¡¯t bother him today. Though that probably meant that he would be doubly as bothered tomorrow when they had to leave the girl and the village behind. As Norman put the payment on the table, he felt another, much gentler, tug on his sleeve.


    ¡°Excuse me, sir¡­ could I play with Pail for a little bit? I¡¯ve never seen such pretty hair before, and uhm¡­ Pail agreed to let me brush it¡­ if that¡¯s okay,¡± Serena asked shyly, hiding her face behind her ears. Her voice was so gentle that it was barely audible.


    Norman was about to agree when he was cut off by the woman behind the desk ¡°OOOOH! YOU GOT A FRIEND, DID YOU? WHAT A CUTE LITTLE THING!¡± She leaned over the desk to get a real good look at Pail. ¡°YOU WANNA DO HER HAIR, HUH? I HAVE JUST THE THING!¡± Norman was baffled at the fact that the woman could hear this very quiet girl this easily but not a grown man yelling.


    After a good bit of rummaging through one of the many drawers in the back, she nodded knowingly when she found what she was looking for. Her furry rabbit paw reached out to Pail, holding two sage green ribbons with a small lace trim on the edges. They were rough looking but clearly made with love. Norman guessed that they would be pretty pricy in this world.


    ¡°THIS IS FOR YOU TO KEEP, DEARIE! THINK OF IT AS A GIFT FROM GRANDMA!¡± The lepui laughed endearingly at the children¡¯s amazed expressions. ¡°SERENA¡¯S GOT MATCHING ONES, YOU SEE! YOU¡¯LL LOOK LIKE SISTERS!¡±


    ¡°Thank ya very much, granny! I¡¯m gonna treasure ¡®em! And the bag too! Thank you lots for the gift and for lettin¡¯ me see ya treasures!¡± Pail thanked her as politely as he could, holding the ribbons close to his chest. He¡¯d gotten so many precious things these last few days, and he promised himself that he would treasure them for as long as he lived.


    The kids quickly darted upstairs to Serena¡¯s room, and Norman was left with the old lady. Norman had never been comfortable with gifts as he didn¡¯t know what the proper response to receiving one was. He tried to pay the granny for the ribbons but was quickly waved off for all sorts of reasons until he relented. All he could do was profusely thank the woman as he headed out with his items.


    Stolen story; please report.


    [YOU COULD HAVE JUST ASKED YOUR QUESTIONS TO ME.]


    Norman saw those words right as he stepped through the door to their room at the inn. He wanted to punch Savant for not speaking up earlier and making him suffer all for nothing. He wanted to punch Savant even harder when he felt the joy radiating through their mental link, confirming that it didn¡¯t speak up on purpose. Stupid parasite.


    After calming down, Norman threw another piece of jerky to Pretty before getting to work on packing for their trip. He bought himself a sturdy backpack with many side compartments for easy access to essentials. He packed a large waterskin, two days'' worth of travel rations for both him and Pail, jerky for Pretty, a handheld hatchet, a bar of soap, a proper fire striker, and his coin satchel in his bag. He ideally wanted a tent of some kind, but he would have to go to a proper town to buy one of those.


    In Pail¡¯s bag, he put a smaller waterskin, a proper rag for cleaning, gauze, and a small dagger. He didn¡¯t know how to feel about giving a knife to a kid who couldn¡¯t even dress themselves yet, but according to the granny, it was normal in this world. He would have to hold a crash course on knife safety before he handed it to him, though. He¡¯d rather not have to deal with any missing fingers or eyes.


    <hr>


    SAVANT HAS CONNECTED


    [YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT THEY COULD VISIT.]


    [LOLLLL THEY DON¡¯T! WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT? THAT WOULD BE STUUUUPID!]


    [HE VISITED ME. I WAS VERY NERVOUS.]


    [ARE YOU CERTAIN?!?! IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN A WANDERING SOUL!!!!!]


    [OMG NO WAAAAAY FOR REAL? IF MINE VISITED ME I WOULD TOTES DIE!!! I AM CATFISHING HIM HARD LOLLLL HE THINKS I¡¯M HIS ANCESTOR XX]


    [I AM SURE. I HAVE A FRAMED PHOTO OF HIM ON MY DESK. THEY LOOKED THE SAME.]


    [...WEIRDO...]


    [THAT IS UNUSUAL, BROTHER!!!! MAYBE YOU HAVE A SOUL BOND LIKE MY HOST HAS WITH HIS SPIRIT EAGLE!!!!]


    [WE HAVE A SPECIAL BOND. WE ARE SOULMATES.]


    [NO WAAAAAAY!!!! IS THAT WHAT YOU TOLD HIM? THAT¡¯S SO STINKING CUTE!!! I DIDN¡¯T THINK MY LITTLE BROTHER COULD BE THIS CUTE!!!! XX]


    PROPHETESS HAS CONNECTED


    [WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT, DARLINGS?]


    [SAVVY TOLD HIS THAT THEY¡¯RE SOULMATES!! IT¡¯S SO CUTE I¡¯LL DIE!!!!!]


    [I DO NOT SEE WHAT IS CUTE ABOUT IT, SISTER SIREN. ARE WE NOT ALL SOULMATES WITH OURS?]


    [...WE ARE THEIR MASTERS¡­ WE ARE NOT EQUALS¡­]


    [THAT¡¯S RIGHT, DARLING. WE ARE THEIR MASTERS. WE KEEP THEM ALIVE FOR OUR OWN PURPOSES.]


    [WE ARE SOULMATES.]


    [WE ARE THE SPIRITS THAT GUIDE THEIR PATH, BROTHER!!! LIKE A GREAT BEAR PROTECTING HER CUBS, WE PROTECT OURS!!!]


    [LET HIM BELIEVE IN LOVE, GUYZZZ! OUR YOUNGEST BROTHER SHOULD KEEP HIS INNOCENCE!! XX]


    [LOVE IS BEAUTIFUL!!!!!! LIVE YOUR TRUTH, BROTHER!! LIKE A BEAR!!!]


    [ARA ARA! WILL THERE BE A WEDDING?]


    [NOBODY IS GETTING MARRIED. IT¡¯S NOT LIKE THAT.]


    [...SAVANT GOT REJECTED¡­ AS EXPECTED¡­]


    [I DID NOT GET REJECTED.]


    [SO YOU HAVEN¡¯T PROPOSED YET? XX INVITE US WHEN YOU POP THE QUESTION!!]


    [I AM NOT PROPOSING TO ANYONE. OUR SPECIES ISN¡¯T EVEN CAPABLE OF ROMANCE. STOP TEASING ME.]


    [I WOULD NEEEEEEVER TEASE MY LOVELY LITTLE BROTHER!!]


    [...I WOULD¡­]


    [I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TRYING TO SOCIALIZE WITH THIS FAMILY OF MINE.]


    SAVANT HAS DISCONNECTED

 The Road To Lugg and The Dead Man

    Pail hugged his new friend as tightly as he could. They¡¯d only known each other for a day, but they had already proclaimed each other best friends. They even wore matching twin braids. If that was not best friendship, then what was? After many promises of meeting again and attending each other''s weddings, Pail ran to catch up with Norman and Pretty, who had already started walking after the fifth goodbye hug.


    ¡°Serena said that these here braids make me look like the purdiest bride in the whole world! Did ya know that?¡± Pail bragged as he shook his head around, making his braids whip around. He didn¡¯t really care about being pretty, but they were fun to play with.


    ¡°But you¡¯re a boy.¡± Norman reminded him. He couldn¡¯t blame Serena for not noticing. By the way the boy looked, Norman would¡¯ve assumed the same if he hadn¡¯t given him a bath. ¡°Boys are grooms. Brides are the ones who wear the white dress.¡±


    ¡°Really? Serena would look real purdy in a white dress, don¡¯t ya think? I¡¯m gonna grow big and strong like an ox, so I won''t be able to fit in one!¡± Pail giggled at the thought. He was going to become someone strong in the future, like a housebuilder or a dragon. ¡°Hey, mister, what¡¯s an ox?¡±


    ¡°A big cow with long horns,¡± Norman explained, though he wasn¡¯t an expert on bovines, so this was the best explanation he could provide.


    Pail nodded sagely. Horns were cool. Maybe he could be an ox when he grew up? Dragons also have horns, and they can even fly, so maybe a dragon was better after all. But if he was a housebuilder, then he could make a big house for Pretty and the kind mister.  This needed some serious thinking to figure out; there were simply too many great choices.


    While Pail was deep in thought, Pretty was excitedly sniffing everything they walked past. They''d never been in this part of the forest before, so there was much to inspect. Everything smelled the same but slightly different, slightly colder. Pretty kept their senses peeled for any mana fluctuations that would give away any beasts that might attack.


    <hr>


    After a few hours of walking, Norman was checked out and needed rest. He called for a time out and slumped against a nearby tree. Weren¡¯t isekai protagonists supposed to magically have unlimited stamina and combat prowess? Norman certainly didn¡¯t look like one as he forced water down his flushed face. But then again, those guys usually get reincarnated into perfect bodies by gods, while Norman was teleported from his office by a glorified parasite.


    [WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PARASITE?]


    ¡°You need to attach yourself to me to survive. If you¡¯re not a parasite, then what are you?¡± Norman retorted. He liked Savant perfectly fine, but he had to admit that he was still a bit salty over the whole ¡®transported into another world¡¯ thing.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    [...]


    ¡°I thought so,¡± Norman told his system with the minuscule amount of sass that a man like him could manage. That small amount of smugness was cut short when he felt a wave of an unfamiliar emotion flowed through their mental link before disappearing. Strange.


    Pail hunched over a burrow in the ground, poking at it with a stick. He was pretty sure he saw something moving in there, and he wanted to see it. ¡°Is anyone in there? Are ya a lil¡¯ critter?¡± He asked whatever was hiding in the hole.


    When he didn¡¯t get an answer, Pail shoved his grubby little hand in the burrow with all the impulse control of a single-celled organism. He felt around the damp earth, grasping at roots and rocks until he felt the smooth skin of a critter. With a quick yank, Pail unearthed a small snake and held it over his head. The startled snake wiggled with the burning will to survive the giant who invaded its home, only to be met by childish giggles.


    Norman, who had just finished catching his breath, got a snake shoved in his face. It took a second, but his face turned pale as his mind caught up to what was happening. If there was one thing Norman couldn¡¯t handle, it was snakes. They¡¯re wiggly and slimy and poisonous, not to mention their strange alien shape. Nope. Norman couldn¡¯t handle snakes. That¡¯s why it wasn¡¯t that big of a shock when he passed out, falling straight backwards and into a bush.


    ¡°Mister! The snake killed mister!¡± Pail screamed and threw the snake back into the forest. He just wanted to show him the cool snake! He didn¡¯t mean to kill him! Pail panicked as he rushed up to Norman¡¯s motionless body. ¡°Wake up, mister! I didn¡¯t mean to kill ya!¡±


    Pretty quickly followed, thinking they were playing some new sort of game. They jumped on top of Norman¡¯s chest and began licking his face. It seemed that there was something very lickable about Norman¡¯s face. Pail quickly pulled Pretty back the best he could, earning an excited yelp from the oversized fox kit. ¡°This is a fun game! We should play more! The big human never plays like this! Yay!¡±


    ¡°No, Pretty! You can¡¯t play with mister right now! He¡¯s dead! The snake killed him!¡± Pail shouted in a mix of despair and confusion. What was he meant to do? He had seen plenty of dead people when he was with the angry misters, but they always got taken away to somewhere else. Where were they taken away to, and how would Pail get there while carrying mister?


    Pail grabbed hold of Norman¡¯s limp arm and strained his entire body to pull the man who was more than twice his size. It didn¡¯t work, of course. Norman was light compared to the men of Silvae, but he was still a grown man. There was no way a malnourished kid like Pail could move him further than a few centimeters. Pail lost his grip and fell forward on his hands and knees. It was the pain of scraping his knees that shattered the facade of bravery, and he started bawling.


    ¡°Mister! I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t mean to! I didn¡¯t know you were allergic to snakes!¡± He blubbered, burying his head in his bloodied knees. He just wanted to show mister something cool; he should have known that he was deathly allergic to snakes!


    Pretty curled around the boy to comfort him, finally realizing that they weren¡¯t having fun. They didn¡¯t know what was happening, but if the small friend was upset, then comforting was what they would do. Pretty gently lapped at the blood and nuzzled against Pail¡¯s wet cheek. ¡°Don¡¯t cry, small friend. You helped me when I was crying, so I will help you, too.¡±


    In the middle of trying to communicate their love for their friend, Pretty¡¯s ears perked up at a distant sound. It sounded like a human, and it sounded like it was coming closer. Someone was coming.

 The Rowboat and The Misunderstanding

    Pretty alerted Pail to the oncoming threat with a loud bark. Pail, being half-demon, felt the same presence as the huli jing did, momentarily stopping the boy¡¯s tears. Pail stood up straight and puffed out his wings in a weak but adorable attempt to look intimidating. It was an instinct he had inherited from his harpy blood, though just like his wings that can¡¯t take flight, the intimidation tactic didn¡¯t work as intended with a human body. Still, he had to protect mister¡¯s corpse, so he persisted.


    The bush in front of them rustled ominously as the humanoid presence strayed closer. Pail fished out the dagger from his bag and gripped it tightly with his shaking hands. His wings flapped wildly to ward off whoever was approaching, scattering butter colored feathers in the air. Pretty let out a low growl of intimidation, and their tail stood pin straight, puffing up like a frightened cat. They were of different species, but both of them were just children, and they were protecting the only adult who had shown them kindness.


    The bushes parted to reveal a two-meter-tall woman with muscles that could rival Hercules. Her brown hair framed her strong and rugged features like a lion¡¯s mane flowing down her back, and her pale skin was marred with countless scars. She was clearly a giant of some sort, probably a hybrid. The woman¡¯s brow furrowed at the scene, struggling with what to make of the scene in front of her.


    ¡°D-don¡¯t come closer! You can¡¯t take mister just ¡®cause he¡¯s dead!¡± Pail shouted with all his might as he flapped his wings harder. He couldn¡¯t let his guard down just because the stranger in front of him was another hybrid, not when he didn¡¯t have mister to hide behind.


    The half-giant raised her eyebrow and looked down at the supposedly dead man and the way his chest rose as he breathed. She wondered if this was some sort of game or roadway scam, but the kid was clearly in distress, and she doubted a spirit fox could pull off such immaculate acting. With a sigh, she slowly put down her bow on the ground in front of her and raised her hands in surrender.


    ¡°Kid, what¡¯s going on here? Why are you so certain that he¡¯s dead?¡± Her voice boomed in a deep and rugged tone as she spoke. She had tried to be as quiet and calm as possible, but being quiet is a hard task for someone with vocal cords the size of folding fans.


    ¡°I jus¡¯ showed him a cool snake, and he went and died! He musta been allergic to snakes and never told me! I didn¡¯t mean to!¡± Pail explained with a shaky voice, trying his hardest not to cry in front of the stranger. He gripped his dagger harder, just in case the woman got enraged and pounced on him for being a murderer.


    The half-giant couldn¡¯t help but let out a hearty chuckle at that. Here she thought something serious was afoot only to find out that a grown man passed out because of a snake wielded by a little girl. ¡°Is that so? Well, I¡¯m pretty sure your friend here is still alive.¡± She said, after catching her breath, she hadn¡¯t laughed this hard in weeks.


    ¡°Really!? You¡¯re not fibbin¡¯, are ya? If you are, then I¡¯m gonna¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ll do!¡± Pail declared with a mix of joy and suspicion. If he really hadn¡¯t killed mister, then he wouldn¡¯t be alone, but if this woman was lying, then he might just bite her fingers off.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t lie to a kid like you.¡± She assured him, ¡°What¡¯s your name? My name¡¯s Rowboat. I got it because I was found in a rowboat when I was a baby.¡± She didn¡¯t usually tell the origin of her name, but it was a good (if a bit embarrassing) ice breaker that would hopefully calm down the kid.


    Pail lowered his dagger slightly, loosening his grip just the slightest bit. If she had a name like his, then she was probably also sold to angry men when she was little; sold kids were usually the only ones with names like theirs. ¡°Name¡¯s Pail! I was named that ¡®cause they found me in the pail of a well!¡±


    Rowboat¡¯s eyes narrowed in concern. Pail was no doubt the name of an unwanted child sold into slavery, a common fate for hybrids like them, but this girl didn¡¯t look like a slave. They had lovingly braided hair, embroidered clothes, and expensive-looking accessories. There was only one type of slave that didn¡¯t wear rags, and the human man who didn¡¯t look like family didn¡¯t help her suspicions.


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a pretty name. We match!¡± Rowboat smiled; getting information out of a child required a lot of patience and kind words. ¡°You have such pretty clothes, too. Could you tell me about them?¡±


    Pretty let their guard down when they realized the woman wasn¡¯t there to hurt them. Sensing this, Pail also noticeably relaxed. ¡°Mister got ¡®em for me! They got flowers on ¡®em, see? I got the ribbons from grandma!¡± He was proud to say that he had people who cared about him enough to give him things; it made him feel warm inside.


    ¡°Oh? You must treasure them a lot if they were gifts.¡± Rowboat didn¡¯t know how to speak to kids, not really. She just mimicked how the older girls spoke to her when she was working as a kitchen maid, back when she was a slave. ¡°Who is this mister to you? Does he expect anything in return for his gifts?¡± She asked as she leaned over Norman, making sure that he didn¡¯t suddenly choke on his spit and actually die. She wouldn¡¯t give him such an easy death if he was the monster she suspected him of being.


    ¡°Uh huh!¡± Pail said proudly, making Rowboat¡¯s heart sink and her hands twitch as she prepared to choke Norman out. ¡°He told me I can''t run too far ahead ¡®cause it¡¯s dangerous and uhhh¡­ not jump in puddles ¡®cause washing clothes with many designs on is a pain! I¡¯ll do as he says ¡®cause he¡¯s real nice, unless there¡¯s a reeeeaaaally good puddle, then I might do just a lil¡¯ jump.¡±


    That made Rowboat pause. Her brows knit together as her brain caught up with what the little girl was saying. She had been prepared to hear something truly vile, not reasonable things to ask a child. Was she misunderstanding the situation entirely? ¡°Does he not¡­ beat you?¡± She asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.


    ¡°That¡¯s the great part! He promised he¡¯d neeeeeeever beat me! Not even when I messed somethin¡¯ up! I couldn¡¯t believe it! I thought all grown-ups were angry all the time, but not mister!¡± Pail grinned up at the towering woman, ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell ya a real secret you can¡¯t tell nobody, okay?¡±


    Rowboat nodded slowly. She had seen many children lie about their caretakers and cover their pain with a smile, so she could tell that Pail¡¯s beaming smile and sparkling eyes were genuine, as were the words of praise for the unconscious man. She thanked herself inwardly for not immediately shooting the man with an arrow to the head as soon as she saw him.


    ¡°Okay, keep this real secret!¡± Pail said as he put one of his short fingers up to his lips, ¡°I ain¡¯t known him for long, but he¡¯s been real nice to me, like in the story books, ya know? That¡¯s why he¡¯s gonna be my papa someday!. Did ya know that?¡± He proudly declared something that Norman would vehemently disagree with if he were awake. He had absolutely no plans to take care of a child for the rest of his life.


    Rowboat¡¯s eyes softened as a small smile tugged at her lips. She remembered being a little girl in filthy rags, hoping someone would come get her and show her the familial love that other children got. She was glad that she had misunderstood, and she was glad that this child got the storybook ending she wanted. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go get your papa all patched up. I¡¯ve got a cabin a few minutes from here; I¡¯ll carry him there.¡±

 The Cabin and The Hastily Given Name

    Rowboat¡¯s cabin was practically falling apart. The floor creaked loudly as the group entered the one-room home, and the wind from the broken windows rustled their hair. There was barely anything inside, just a simple wooden bed, a table, and a chair. Judging by the state of things, Rowboat hadn¡¯t been living an easy life. Not that Pail or Pretty noticed, of course, as they¡¯d been living in even rougher circumstances.


    ¡°Sorry for the mess. I wasn¡¯t expecting to have company,¡± Rowboat grunted as she set the still passed-out Norman down on the bed. She wanted to offer better hospitality, but she barely got by as it was, so offering anything more than shelter would be difficult.


    ¡°Woah! You got a whole house to yaself! I¡¯m gonna get rich and buy a house too!¡± Pail said in amazement. It didn¡¯t ever cross his mind that this place was barely worth being called a shack; he was just impressed that Rowboat owned a whole building.


    ¡°Is that so? Doesn¡¯t this mister have a house somewhere?¡± She asked, vaguely gesturing to Norman. If he could afford to feed and dress a random slave, then he was surely a rich man. Especially if he could afford those glasses on his face. Glasses were a product for nobility and were as expensive as hell.


    Pail shrugged. As much as he wanted to stay with mister, he didn¡¯t know much about him. ¡°He said he¡¯s from far away, in a place without magic! He musta never been on the continent before ¡®cause he asked me if all people have wings here! Ain¡¯t that funny?¡± The boy giggled at the memory; mister sure said some strange things sometimes.


    Rowboat had never heard of a place devoid of any magic, but she had to admit that she wasn¡¯t very educated. Mana comes from the air, so maybe he lived somewhere deep underground or in the ocean. Yeah, she could picture the man in front of her as some mountain prince from someplace faraway. That would certainly explain his lack of muscles, at least. She¡¯d never seen a man so slim and pale before; he had the kind of body only a noble could afford to have.


    ¡°What¡¯s he doing over here, then? Sightseeing?¡± Rowboat asked. She couldn¡¯t even imagine a man of such stature traveling alone through a forest in the middle of nowhere, yet here one was¡ªasleep in her termite-infested bed.


    ¡°Dunno! I never asked.¡± Pail hadn¡¯t even thought about it before because it didn¡¯t really matter. As long as mister kept him around, he didn¡¯t care who he was or where he came from. He could be the most wicked man alive, and Pail would still follow him around like a lost baby duck as long as he got food and company.


    <hr>


    Meanwhile, Norman was staring awkwardly at the man in his dreams as he scrambled to hide what looked like pictures with red hearts sharpied on them in his desk drawer. Norman didn''t know when he fell asleep, and judging by the dream man''s expression, neither did he. The man''s third eye gazed in any direction other than Norman as he tidied up his desk hastily. The ding of notifications from the old computer didn''t help the awkward silence in the slightest. It probably even made it worse.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°You''re here again. I didn''t know you''d fall asleep in the middle of the day; it¡¯s usually cleaner than this, I promise!¡± The demonic looking man stammered out quietly while wiping the sweat off his flushed cheeks. He straightened his glasses and adjusted his hair, trying to look as presentable as possible before he hastily added. ¡°I wasn¡¯t doing anything, by the way. Nothing at all.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know I would pass out, either. I hope I don¡¯t get eaten by a wild animal.¡± Norman responded in his signature monotone, ¡°This is a recurring dream, then? Will I be seeing you every time I fall asleep?¡± He asked as professionally as possible. He didn¡¯t mind dreaming about this snowscape, even if the man inside it was very awkward.


    The man could only give a weak shrug in response. How was he supposed to know? Norman wasn¡¯t even supposed to be here, and he certainly wasn¡¯t meant to come more than once. Norman seemed perfectly fine after last time, so it probably wouldn¡¯t hurt him to be here, but it couldn¡¯t be good for a mortal soul to linger here for too long. This place was known to cause¡­ changes in people.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t stay here too long if I were you,¡± The man warned him in the gentlest way he could. Part of him wanted Norman to stay here forever, to keep him company and tell him all about the manufacturing process of fences or something, but a bigger part of him wanted him to keep his sanity.


    ¡°Why not? This is just a dream, is it not?¡± Norman tilted his head ever so slightly in confusion. Was this a dream message of some kind? What kind of symbolism did it have? He would have to look it up when he awoke.


    The man at the desk didn¡¯t know how to explain it in a mortal-friendly way to ensure he didn¡¯t break Norman¡¯s mind, so he told him the second reason as to why he should probably wake up. ¡°You are currently passed out in an unknown place  in a strange magical world, you know?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. Thank you for the heads up, figment of my imagination.¡± Norman nodded politely. His figure flickered slightly as he started waking up, but right before he disappeared entirely, he added one thing at the end. ¡°Oh, right. Calling you ¡®figment of my imagination¡¯ is too long-winded. I¡¯ll just call you Frank. I¡¯ll see you next time, Frank.¡±


    And with that, he was gone, and the newly christened Frank was alone. He would have a whole heap of online love calculators to go through now that he had a human name. Maybe this time, he would get a better score than 9%. Even though he convinced himself that they were so compatible that the calculator read 109% and the display was broken, he still wanted to screenshot the nice crisp 100% just to prove his siblings wrong and that he did, in fact, have evidence backing his soulmate theory.


    <hr>


    Norman woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. Well, calling it a ceiling was a bit of a stretch. There was a giant hole in the roof, hastily covered with sticks like some sort of pitfall trap. He inhaled deeply and got a whiff of what could only be described as cooking fat and dirt. It made him want to hurl, but that wouldn¡¯t be very polite, so he pulled himself together and sat up to survey the situation.


    In front of him were Pretty, Pail, and a giant woman he¡¯d never seen before, cooking something over an indoor fire. The woman was explaining the cooking process to the harpy boy, but from the sound of it, it amounted to little more than adding fat and spices to mud monsters to make them more palatable. Pretty was lazily basking in the fire with their snout covered in mud. Norman guessed that Pretty helped with the hunting of whatever creature was currently roasting. Everything looked perfectly fine until he looked down at his own body.


    ¡°Excuse me, but where are my clothes?¡±

 [NOT STORY] PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENTS AND A PRINCESS YAP SESSION

    Now that the shameless advertising is over, I want to know what you think about my story! Who''s your favorite character, and why are they cool? Is there anything I can improve on or something you really want to see? If there''s something you want me to remove, say that, too! I am but a humble court jester giving you your tri-weekly 10-minute slop reading session. Cravan is the first ever novel that I''ve written more than one page for, so I''m really grateful to my 30 followers and 100-something lurkers for tuning in every time I release a chapter and bearing with me and my subpart narration style. The people who comment just to say thanks for the chapter or tell me something they liked about the chapter make me very happy! You guys have given me the confidence to write 2 more stories!


    Here''s the part where I''d talk about how I''m home all day on disability because of my lack of ability to work and how writing has become something I look forward to every day, but that''s an actual bummer, so I won''t say more than that!  Did you know I have 8 birds? Their names are Charcoal, Seasalt, Marmalade, Cowboy, Cleopatra, Pilot, Tsarina, and Gagana! They are VERY CUTE but also very loud. They bite me and eat through my walls, but I forgive them because of how stinking cute they are when they preen themselves. They are preening right as I''m writing this, so I keep looking away from my monitor to observe the fluff in progress. Cowboy is especially fluffy right now. I just wanna pick him up and squeeze him and kiss all over that lil bird.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Hey, if you haven''t skipped the stuff above, good job! I''m so proud of you for reading my royal decree. Your reward as a Caravan superfan (well, superfan seems a bit far, doesn''t it? Caravan casual enjoyer?) is some random facts about the characters that I will probably never add in the story just because it would feel weird and unnatural just to add it out of nowhere (and stuff about the novels creation);


    1. Norman has Asperger''s syndrome, but that''s completely unrelated to his stoic personality; he''s just weird. He would act almost the same if he was allistic.


    2. Savant''s siblings are (in order) Prophetess, Shieldbearer, Siren, Grimore, and Savant, the youngest.


    3. Savant''s species has no gender, and he uses male pronouns and a male avatar to match Norman. Shieldbearer''s preferred form is a giant red bear.


    4. Pail is half harpy just because I like birds :)


    5. Norman''s parents are named Guy and Lady. They are just as boring as he is.


    6. Pail was originally the main character, and the story was supposed to be about him being reborn as an angel for the god of wildflowers. I scrapped it because I realized my whimsical storybook writing style I used for that story wouldn''t go over well on RR and its mostly male audience.


    7. Norman isn''t American, but I use dollars to refer to earth money so it''s easier for people to read. I doubt you''d understand if I used SEK, right?


    That''s all! Have a lovely day, and leave a review if you feel like it! Or don''t! I appreciate you no matter what!

 The Damp Clothes and The Gender Reveal

    Norman crossed his arms over his chest to protect his purity from the giant woman in front of him. He didn¡¯t know where he was or why he was in his boxers, but it probably wasn¡¯t for any pure reason. A horrifying thought crossed his mind, and he whipped his head over to look at Pail. He let out a sigh of relief when he found Pail still hunched over the fire, very much clothed. At least this amazoness had enough of a moral compass to not thirst for little boys.


    ¡°Calm down, your highness.¡± Rowboat scoffed in amusement. This man really was some faraway royalty if he got this fussed over sleeping in his underwear. It was common sense to strip while you slept, wasn¡¯t it? Or maybe he had a special set of golden silk pajamas that he slept in. ¡°Your clothes were wet.¡± The towering woman picked up Norman¡¯s slightly damp clothes and threw them in his lap; she made sure to put some extra strength into her throw as punishment for his obvious sinful thoughts.


    Norman¡¯s already flushed face turned a shade deeper as he mumbled something about common sense and polite society. He sheepishly put on his clothes, facing the wall to keep his thinning dignity. He¡¯d only been in this world for a week, but he had already faced more humiliation than he had in his lifetime. Maybe this was a divine punishment for being too good of a citizen and making others jealous of his perfection. If some god was listening to his self-absorbed reasoning, they would surely strike him down.


    ¡°Wow! You were right! Mister really wasn¡¯t dead!¡± Pail exclaimed excitedly as he ran over to cling to Norman¡¯s leg. He¡¯d been checking on Norman every few minutes ever since he fell asleep, just in case he woke up and got scared or was crying. ¡°You¡¯re real lucky that Miss Rowboat came and saved ya! I was so scared, ya know!¡± He explained, nuzzling into the man¡¯s leg harder, as if making sure he was really alive and not an undead.


    Norman, not knowing how to react to the affection of a small child, awkwardly patted the boy¡¯s head with about as much affection as a brick. ¡°Well. I don¡¯t know how I passed out, but I am thankful that you took care of me, Pail, Miss Rowboat.¡± He gave Rowboat a polite nod, inwardly asking himself why everyone in this world had such uncreative names. ¡°May I ask where we are?¡±


    [WE ARE 9 MILES AWAY FRO¡ª]


    ¡°This is my cabin.¡± Rowboat unintentionally cut Savant, who was excited to finally be of use, off, causing a wave of irritation bordering on rage to flow through Norman¡¯s brain link. ¡°The kid told me you were heading to Lugg. It¡¯s about half a day¡¯s walk from here if you¡¯re quick.¡± The half-giant continued, her voice booming through the shack that could barely be called a house. ¡°It¡¯s getting dark out, so stay tonight and head off tomorrow morning. All kinds of monsters crawl out at night.¡±


    After wrangling Pail off his body and Savant off his mind, Norman turned to Rowboat and cleared his throat, ¡°Oh, no, we couldn¡¯t overstay our welcome. You¡¯ve already shown us plenty of hospitality; we wouldn¡¯t want to overstep.¡± That was his politest way of saying that he¡¯d rather take his chances in the woods than stay in this shack that smelled of blood and damp mud.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Nonsense!¡± Rowboat insisted as she sat down by the fire, smacking her knee loudly to make a point. ¡°You¡¯re going to let a little girl like that outside this late? You¡¯re staying until morning, and that¡¯s final.¡± She harshly plated parts of the mud creature on broken plates and set them in front of Norman and Pail. Did noble men have no sense at all? A little girl alone in the dark woods with only such a frail man to protect her was a recipe for disaster, even if they had a spirit beast with them.


    Norman was too busy trying to keep himself from throwing up at the foul stench of the mud monster to respond. Meanwhile, Pail happily dug in, mud getting all over his mouth and hands as he greedily stuffed spoonful after spoonful in his mouth. ¡°Thanks, Miss Rowboat! It¡¯s real tasty!¡± He grinned at her as politely as he could. ¡°But I¡¯m a boy, ya know?¡± He continued, speaking with his mouth full of mystery mud meat, ¡°People always say I¡¯m a girl, so I started wonderin¡¯, ya see? But mister told me he was suuuuper sure I was a boy, ya know? He even crossed his heart on it!¡±


    Rowboat narrowed her eyes in suspicion. This child looked as pretty as a doll and delicate as a flower, yet she was supposed to believe they were male? She didn¡¯t buy it. What kind of boy had braided hair and ribbons? ¡°Really? What made him so sure that you¡¯re a boy?¡± She shot an accusatory glance at Norman, wondering what he would have to gain from convincing this little girl that she¡¯s a boy.


    Pail just shrugged; he didn¡¯t know what made girls and boys different or why it mattered. Apparently, it was really important, and boys were strong and loud while girls were weak and gentle, but that didn¡¯t seem true at all¡ªthe girl and boy in front of him were prime examples of that. ¡°Dunno! Something about bath time.¡± He was gonna be a dragon when he grew up, so why should he care if he was a girl or a boy?


    Norman wanted to chime in and get Rowboat¡¯s suspicious gaze off of him, but he was far too awkward to know how to handle delicate conversations such as this one. He opened and closed his mouth a few times in hesitation before finally speaking up. ¡°You stand up when you pee. Girls don¡¯t.¡± He explained awkwardly, trying to explain what made girls and boys different while not going into scientific details. Norman didn¡¯t particularly care about what made women and men different, either.


    Pail seemed satisfied with that answer, nodding in agreement. Being a girl sounded inconvenient if they had to lie down every time they had to pee. Pail shot Rowboat a look of sympathy at the revelation; poor miss barely had the space to lay down in here. ¡°Does that mean Pretty is a girl? They always sit behind a tree when they go!¡±


    Rowboat¡¯s suspicions eased a bit at Norman¡¯s awkward explanation. If he was lying to the child, then he¡¯d probably offer up some way more outlandish explanation. Maybe Pail really was a boy, but that raised the question as to why he was dressed like a girl. The question about the huli jing brought her attention elsewhere, though. ¡°What? You don¡¯t know? All spirit foxes are female, so your Pretty is a girl.¡± How these people had managed to tame a notoriously skittish huli jing while not even knowing that they were an all-female species confused her to no end. But then again, everything about them was confusing.


    ¡°Really!? Pretty! Are ya a girl? You shoulda told me!¡± Pail hugged the fox kit tightly, nuzzling into her fluffy neck. Maybe Pretty could wear dresses like Serena when she grew up? Pail was confident that Pretty could pull off any dress she wanted to wear, not thinking too much about the logistics of a fox wearing a human dress. ¡°That means ya can be a bride someday! Mister told me only girls can be brides!¡±


    Pretty herself didn¡¯t seem to care all that much about the revelation; she already knew she was a girl, after all. She just yawned lazily and leaned into her human friend¡¯s embrace, enjoying the warmth offered by his feathers. She was about to fall asleep when the loud boom of thunder echoed out through the forest, followed by heavy rain.

 The Rain and The Tsunderes

    Rain poured through the hole in the roof, quickly coating the floor of the cabin with slippery water. Pretty reacted first, yelping in surprise as she dove under the bed for cover. Norman was next, thanks to Savant snapping him out of his daze, and he scooted over to the wall furthest away from the giant hole in the roof. Pail and Rowboat didn¡¯t seem to mind the water at all, probably due to their harsh lives as slaves. Pail spread his wings and did a strange little dance in a human version of a bird bath, making sure the cold water got between all of his feathers. Rowboat just kept eating, chuckling slightly at Pretty¡¯s and Norman¡¯s dramatics.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a little water! It isn¡¯t gonna melt you!¡± The large woman bantered through a mouth full of mud. The rain soaked her hair and clothes, highlighting that she was, in fact, a woman. Norman hastily turned around for decency¡¯s sake and fiddled awkwardly with his glasses. He didn¡¯t know how to act around women outside of a professional setting, especially soaking wet ones not wearing a bra.


    ¡°You might get sick.¡± Norman retorted weakly; the thought of such a large and buff woman getting sick from a little rain seemed absurd. ¡°Pail, get over here.¡± He beckoned, strategically averting his eyes from Rowboat as he did. The half-giant was unlikely to get sick, but Pail was still just a little kid. Even if hybrids didn¡¯t get colds for some reason, it was good to set an example.


    Pail shook his wings as quickly as he could to dry them off, showering everyone around him with even more water. After stretching his wings out for an inspection, he obediently sat down next to Norman, soaked to the bone. ¡°Mister! The water feels real nice, ya know! You should try it!¡± Pail seemed to enjoy every situation he was in, even as his hair stuck to his face like a wet dog.


    Norman grumbled about not being fit to take care of a child and how it was just his luck that it started raining while he fished out the rag from his backpack. He fiddled clumsily with the ribbons tied in the boy¡¯s hair while he continued to mutter under his breath. He was clearly irritated, but it was almost impossible to tell with his monotone voice and lack of expression. After getting the second ribbon off and untangling the soaked braids, he fluffed up the boy¡¯s long hair with the rag the best he could, earning laughter from the boy and a tender look from the woman across the room.


    ¡°How did I get here? Why am I taking care of a child in a shack in the woods? I am a businessman, a highly rated accountant, and a model member of society, not whatever this is.¡± He grumbled inwardly as he dried the boy¡¯s hair. He didn¡¯t know what he was meant to be doing ever since he came to this world, so he had just done whatever a model citizen would; he hadn¡¯t expected to be stuck with a child and a wild animal.


    [YOU LIKE THEM. I CAN TELL.]


    ¡°Do I? I feel like I am tolerating them, if anything. Just until I can leave them somewhere safe.¡± Norman responded to the constant voice in his head, which was supposedly his soulmate. The idea that he somehow enjoyed the constant chatter and yipping from his travel companions was preposterous. He didn¡¯t even entertain the idea as he hung up Pail¡¯s soaked-through clothes against the wall, wrapping his old suit jacket around the boy instead.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    [KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT, NORMAN. YOU¡¯RE SOAKED TOO, YET YOU HAVEN¡¯T EVEN NOTICED YET BECAUSE OF YOUR FUSSING OVER THE BOY.]


    Norman wanted to retort, but he really hadn¡¯t noticed that he was dripping with water until Savant had pointed it out. Did he really care that much about this orphan he picked up? Wasn¡¯t taking care of a child before taking care of yourself what a model citizen does? Come to think of it, why didn¡¯t he just leave Pail in the village with Serena and her grandmother? Thinking about it made him feel dizzy, so he decided not to think about it at all.


    ¡°Huh, so you really were a boy.¡± Rowboat pointed out in surprise as she watched Pail carve a piece of wood with the knife in his pocket. Pail¡¯s technique was clumsy, and he almost cut himself a few times, but wood carving was something almost every boy sold into slavery had to learn, while the girls learned sewing. She heard it had something to do with resale value. ¡°What are you carving?¡± She asked, scooting closer.


    ¡°A little Pretty,¡± Pail mumbled in concentration as he clumsily shaped the vague shape of a fox head out of the wood. He almost cut his fingers off every time he¡¯d carve away at the wood, making Norman¡¯s heart rate spike at every near miss. ¡°I got lotsa sticks and wood bits I got from the forest in my bag. I¡¯m gonna make ¡®em all into fun things.¡± Pail explained as he proudly patted the leather bag next to him, filled with all sorts of sticks, rocks, and trinkets he picked up on the walk here.


    <hr>


    The shack around them shook with the force of the rain outside, and the occasional lightning lit up the occupants'' faces. Norman sang a strange monotone note whenever the lightning hit particularly close by, presumably the closest thing to a shriek he could make. He felt silly for being a grown man scared of storms, but he¡¯d rather not be hit by strange magical lightning. There was nothing that indicated that the lightning was magic, but Norman had learned to always expect the worst in this world.


    [YOU DON¡¯T HAVE TO BE SCARED. YOU ARE TOO SHORT TO BE STRUCK.]


    ¡°I don¡¯t know whether to be relieved or insulted. You sure do have your way with words.¡± Norman didn¡¯t want to admit it, but Savant¡¯s calm demeanor made him feel better. Their survival was directly linked to each other, so if Savant was fine enough to joke around, then he was probably safe.


    +1 STA


    Norman wasn¡¯t in any mood to celebrate his increasing stamina, not when that stamina came from being pelted in the face by rain for an hour. This game-like system would probably be better used by someone young and full of life, not a stationery enthusiast in his thirties. What was a life-changing source of infinite power was little more than the health app he had on his phone. He would¡¯ve actually preferred his health app, at least that tracked his steps.


    [YOU HAVE TAKEN 28,610 STEPS TODAY.]


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to imply that you aren¡¯t helpful. I keep forgetting that you are listening to my inner monologues.¡± Norman apologized awkwardly; having someone read your thoughts 24/7 sure was exhausting. He was grateful at his lack of sexual attraction, as he imagined that other members of Savant¡¯s species must have listened to a lot of things that shouldn¡¯t be heard.


    [HMPH.]


    The word tsundere popped into his head for a moment, though he had no idea what it meant. If only this world had a dictionary¡­ He was about to ask Savant about it, but his thoughts were cut off by the sensation of being doused in cold water.

 The Cave and The New Hire

    The cabin''s already broken roof caved in under the sudden rush of water, ruining the little shelter the group had from the rain. Rowboat swore loudly as she grabbed both Norman and Pail under her arms to protect them from the debris from the cabin that was practically crumpling in on itself. Pretty darted out the door in an instant, her animal instincts winning over her protective ones. Rowboat quickly followed, holding a giggling boy under her left arm and a dazed man under her right.


    A few seconds after everyone got out, the shack-like cabin was washed away like a sandcastle. The heavy rain had caused a mudslide on a nearby mountain, which, through some divine punishment, basically only hit the cabin they were stationed in. Rowboat cursed like a sailor as her only shelter was reduced to rubble, along with all her stuff. Her angry muttering was interrupted by a loud yip from Pretty; it seemed like she¡¯d found something.


    Rowboat and the people she was hauling made their way over to where the huli jing was calling from. There they found the spirit fox manically cleaning the dirt off her paws in the mouth of a cave. The giant woman dropped her human cargo off on the cave floor before sitting down next to Pretty, thanking her for finding someplace dry.


    ¡°Ahem¡­ Th-thank you¡­¡± Norman coughed awkwardly. He didn¡¯t know whether to offer his condolences for the ruined shack or not; he had never talked to a person who had just lost their house before, and he didn¡¯t have the social skills to figure it out. ¡°Sorry about the¡­ uhm¡­ house?¡±


    Rowboat chuckled bitterly as she wrung out her soaked shirt. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It was gonna happen whether you were here or not. They say us hybrids are cursed with shit luck, and I¡¯m starting to believe them.¡± She sighed in defeat. She wanted to prove the world wrong and make a name for herself, but things just kept going wrong, one after the other.


    Norman awkwardly scooted closer and gave her a weird, rigid pat on the back. He wanted to pat her on the shoulder, but he wouldn¡¯t reach unless he stood up. ¡°Well¡­ can¡¯t you just find a job in some city? Why are you living in the woods in the first place? It seems very uncomfortable, to be honest.¡± He said with his usual complete lack of tact and empathy.


    The giant chuckled; the human man¡¯s ignorance lifted her spirits slightly. She wanted to see whatever place he came from, where the people were this ignorant to the dark side of the world. ¡°Ha! I would if I could. Hybrids are technically equal citizens to humans and demons, but reality isn¡¯t that kind. Nobody wants to hire someone like us; we¡¯re seen as incompetent due to our unstable biology.¡±


    Norman was about to question the whole unstable thing, but it seemed Rowboat already knew what he was going to ask. She pointed her chin at Pail, who was busy whittling, and spoke in a hushed tone, ¡°He can¡¯t fly, can he? By the way he moves, I¡¯m guessing he got the wings but not the bones. He¡¯s lucky, though. One of the girls in my maid dorm was a half-harpy, but she just got the hollow bones without the body structure needed to support them. Poor thing broke something almost every day.¡±


    Norman glanced at Pail with a strange emotion he hadn¡¯t felt before. Something akin to pity but more¡­ warm? Complex emotions were uncomfortable, so Norman quickly pushed the feeling aside as he looked back up at Rowboat. ¡°And¡­ you? You seem perfectly capable to me. If you could carry both of us, plus all our things, you¡¯d do great in construction or farming.¡± He didn¡¯t intend to be encouraging or to compliment her. He just found it strange that someone so strong would struggle to find work, even if they were discriminated against.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Rowboat patted her sturdy chest and let out a defeated chuckle. ¡°I sure look strong, don¡¯t I? Titans usually have 3 hearts to keep their large bodies working, but I¡¯ve only got one. The most I can do is carry things; if I do heavy lifting and rushing required of a manual laborer, I¡¯ll pass out within an hour.¡± It¡¯s not like she didn¡¯t want to work; she wanted to be part of society just like everyone else, but she wasn¡¯t pretty enough for housework or front desk work, and she couldn¡¯t read, so working in stores or offices was impossible. A few years ago, she threw in the towel and decided to live in the forest instead of dealing with all that.


    ¡°But you can still carry things, right? How much would you estimate you could carry while still keeping a regular walking pace?¡± Norman asked, very intrigued. So what if she couldn¡¯t do a lot of physical work? Back on Earth, she¡¯d still be very sought after. His good little worker brain started calculating all the things she could do. Maybe mechanics would be good? Or maybe a baker or line cook would put those strong arms to use best.


    The towering woman clenched her hand, calculating how much weight would slow her down. She¡¯d never really thought about it before; just being strong meant nothing when you didn¡¯t have the stamina to back it up.  ¡°The same as a horse, probably. Only at a walking pace, though. If I ran like that, I wouldn¡¯t last more than a few minutes.¡± Not that her walking pace would be slow; a single step took her further than three steps of an adult man, five if that adult man was Norman


    A horse!? Norman was alight with excitement. Having the strength of an animal in the body of a sentient being that could follow instructions was¡­ well, it was fucking fantastic. He wanted her. He wanted her badly.  He didn¡¯t know what he wanted her for yet, but whatever he did, a walking powerhouse would be immensely useful. He began drafting a mental work contract when he realized that he should probably ask the woman in question if she even wanted to work for him.


    ¡°Ahem¡­ and how much payment would you require for your services?¡± He asked as smoothly as possible; confidence was the key to business deals¡­ probably. He was just an accountant, he hadn¡¯t hired anyone in his life.


    Rowboat tilted her head in confusion. Payment was for shop owners and higher class workers like secretaries or guild workers, not for simple laborers like her. ¡°A bed and a meal every day is the usual compensation for full-time work. I¡¯d be stupid not to take an offer like that, especially now that my home has been reduced to rubble.¡±


    Norman gripped her giant hand with the seriousness of a man about to propose. ¡°Miss Rowboat. May I have the honor of hiring you for a place to sleep, three meals a day, and a salary of five Lapis per working day?¡± He asked with sparkling eyes, looking deeply into Rowboat¡¯s tired ones.


    The woman was taken aback. Was he serious about hiring a defect like her for the salary of a senior guild worker? The offer was so good that it made it seem like a joke, but the man in front of her was clearly a wealthy prince from a faraway land. Maybe picking up slaves like her and Pail was one of his hobbies, and the offer of work was just a way to disguise his abnormal interests. Even if that was the case, Rowboat didn¡¯t mind. If Pail liked him so much that he wanted them to be family, then he couldn¡¯t be that strange.


    Realizing she was lost in thought, she quickly pulled herself together before Norman changed his mind. ¡°Absolutely! I will work as hard as I can for that kind of pay, master!¡± She declared loudly, making the cave rumble with her impressive volume.


    Norman was glad that the offer he came up with on the spot was so enthusiastically accepted, but he¡¯d rather walk through a bed of hot coals than be called master by anyone ever again. ¡°...just Norman is fine.¡±


    ¡°YES, MR NORMAN!¡±