Toyota spent his time helping Old Man Rom remove his antiques from his wheelbarrow into his new hideout, until he tripped suddenly — his ankles giving out on him in a fit of weakness. They started to throb all at once.
What was happening to his body?
It was like his pain response was delayed. It reminded him of the adrenaline rush when he broke his wrist, but that pain had hit almost immediately.
This... this was like ten minutes later.
Sitting down on the cold stone floor, he squeezed and massaged his sore ankles.
"Crim, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Gramps. Just some cramps... I rhymed."
Forcing himself to his feet, he wobbled over to Rom, tapping on his emerald ring three times and pressing on it until the knives and bag of coins appeared all at once.
Rom, seeing the knives flash into existence for a moment, looked wary before Toyota quickly made them vanish back into the storage, then reached into the bag, pulling out a handful of gold coins.
Internally, Toyota was frustrated that he found a flaw in the ring so quickly — everything in the ring's storage would be shot out at once, which would become more frustrating the more he put inside it.
Reaching out a hand toward Rom, offering him the coins, Rom's eyes widened at the amount in his palm. He immediately pushed Toyota's hand away.
"Crim, are you daft? Do you know how much money you're giving away?"
"I don't care. I owe you, so please accept it."
Toyota knew how money worked — he understood the economy, the value of coins, all that boring stuff — but real common sense? Yeah, he didn't have any.
He had never actually earned anything himself, never had to grind for it.
Even if he knew the coins in his hand could probably buy a house or two, it didn't click why he couldn't just hand them over.
He still had plenty left anyway.
In his head, he wasn't some broke local — he was just a rich tourist passing through, throwing tips around like candy.
Rom could only stare blankly at this boy he had met just a bit ago. He couldn't even remember meeting this kid, let alone saving him, but here he was — going out of his way to help him move, giving him information about his granddaughter, and even offering what looked like sixteen holy coins.
Just one of them could feed an entire family of four for a month.
Either this kid was stupidly generous... or he didn't know how much currency he was handing out.
"I can't accept this. It feels wrong."
"So you're also too prideful to accept my money, huh?"
Rom scoffed, hearing this.
"How did you obtain that bag of coins? It couldn't be legal. Did you steal that from a noble or something?"
Toyota grinned, looking up as if reminiscing about something.
"In a way, I did. And soon, I'll take much more from that guy."
Rom, hearing the serious answer — not a joke — felt a shiver run down his back.
So he did steal from a noble... and he's planning on double-dipping?
"Listen, Crim, if you get caught by that same angry noble, you'll receive a fate worse than death. Don't steal from the prideful. It'll only lead to your downfall."
"Well, I said steal, but it was more like he was forced to give it to me out of obligation."
"So it was legal — you're just a manipulating bastard."
Toyota laughed.
"You can say that. Do you know where the Sword Saint's mansion is? I'm planning on heading there at sunrise."
"Yeah, I know the direction. It'll be a while by foot, but if you want to make it there, it'll be best to have transportation."
At this, Toyota looked down at his sore ankles and felt a fire burn in his chest.
He finally had an excuse to buy a ground dragon — or, as he kept imagining, his own Pokémon.
"Do you know where I would be able to buy a ground dragon?"
"A ground dragon? Those aren't sold commonly. You would have to go to a black market or to Flanders to even think of purchasing one."
Feeling incredulous, Toyota looked at him skeptically.
"Is that a joke? I've seen many carriages in the street that are pulled by ground dragons, and you're telling me they're that rare?"
"Listen, Crim, it's not that they're rare — it's that you can't buy a personal one. All the ones that are on the market are immediately sold to large trading companies like Hoshin. You can easily rent one, but to buy one? That's a completely different story."
Gritting his teeth, Toyota internally cursed Anastasia — that greedy hog — for taking all of the goods.
No wonder she's so rich. She has a monopoly and dibs on all products, drinking straight from the source.
Looking at his palm, which still held the money, he pointed toward an alley that was difficult to see through. Rom quickly looked in that direction, his large frame turning as if prepared for an attack.
Seeing an opportunity, Toyota quickly slipped the coins into Rom's now empty cup of milk that was sitting on a wooden stool in the base.
Turning back, Rom didn't notice the action Toyota had made, but he was miffed — he didn't know if this kid was messing with him or if he was just being paranoid.
"I'll come to see you later, Gramps. Thanks for the milk."
Now putting the noticeably lighter bag of coins into his storage ring, Toyota stepped out into the moonlight.
Rom, noticing how Toyota's palm — once full of coins — was now empty, grew wary.
"Crim... you didn't put all your coins back into your bag, did you?"
Grinning mischievously, Toyota smiled.
"Good luck."
As he quickly limped away, he was grinning to himself.
I feel good. I repaid a debt and helped out a nice old man.
Rom, watching Toyota walk away, didn't know how to feel.
The boy had obviously hidden the coins somewhere in his new hideout.
The boy's kindness was foreign to him. As a giant, he was rarely treated like an ordinary person — his race was practically extinct.
Could those coins have some kind of poison or tracking magic on them?
No... he was just trying to find a logical excuse to dismiss the boy whose kindness he didn't remember earning.
He chuckled to himself.
"When I meet you again... I'll get my revenge."
***
It was early morning, and with nothing to do, Toyota wandered the capital aimlessly, taking in the medieval architecture.
He passed small shops with faded signs, merchant stands where loud voices advertised their products, and a mixture of smells that shouldn't exist in one place, creating an aroma strong enough to make even a full stomach hungry.
Demi humans were common — often half-animal, either from the top or bottom half. Rarely did he see someone like in media, with just animal ears and a tail.
Watching them move about so calmly in the early morning was strange. These demi humans were more composed than the average New Yorker in movies.
He couldn't figure out why, but people kept giving him strange looks.
One concerned-looking woman even handed him a piece of fruit.
Did he really look that odd?
Then he noticed — his clothes were splattered with blood.
Judging by the trail from his face, it looked like his own, but he didn't remember bleeding. The only pain he currently felt was in his ankles.
Still, ever since inheriting part of Envy Subaru's mentality, he'd noticed something: most pain felt dulled, like his willpower canceled it out.
It was an ability that became more useful the longer he had it.
After some thought, he realized he probably shouldn't be walking around covered in blood if he wanted to make a good first impression.
So he decided to ask a nearby well-dressed, aggressive-looking middle-aged man — who was busy arguing with a woman in a servant's outfit — where the nearest clothing store was.
"YOU INCOMPETENT BITCH! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT ME WHEN I AM TALKING!"
"Excuse me, do you know where I can find the nearest clothing store?"
Toyota, lost in his own thoughts, completely failed to read the mood and casually barged in.
The young woman, who had been cowering on the ground with her head pressed to the floor, peeked up, stunned.
Who would dare to interrupt Lord Rev's scolding? They must be someone important.
Peeking again, she saw only a clueless-looking boy with bloodstained clothes.
Lord Rev himself was stunned.
How could this boy not know better than to stay out of his way?
Already furious from having his meeting with his nephew ruined by the new maid, his temper exploded.
"Kill this filthy street rat," he commanded, gesturing to a man standing nearby — a bored-looking mercenary with unkempt hair and a sword at his waist.
At those words, the man's eyes lit up with purpose.
"At your command, my lord."
"Shut up and do it already!"
Toyota, still standing there confused, wondered:
Is this really how rich people act in Lugnica?
Was murder allowed just because someone was a noble?
If he fought back, wouldn't he just end up in jail?
Looking around, seeing how casually the slum-dwellers were treated, he realized the answer.
So, if he couldn't fight, he might as well run.
Toyota quickly cast Murak, feeling his body lighten.
Crouching down, he built up as much strength as he could in his already weak ankles. Angling himself diagonally, he pushed off.
Even though his body was much lighter, his weak ankles prevented him from using his full strength.
Still, he managed to jump about fifteen feet diagonally.
At first, he moved fast — gliding — but his momentum slowed quickly, and he shifted from gliding to falling, crashing onto the ground with a heavy thud.
A jolt of pain ran through him.
He might be able to jump high now, but he wasn't immune to fall damage.
At least he was now out of the main street and between two food stalls.
Their owners were already yelling at him — he had accidentally bumped into their stands while trying to land in the gap between them.
The mercenary, who had been watching all of this unfold, smiled like a predator preparing for a hunt.
Drawing a handful of throwing knives from his waist, he casually launched one toward Toyota's left thigh.
Toyota barely caught a glint of steel in the corner of his eye.
Then — without thinking, purely by instinct — his body responded.
An instinct honed by death.
Without even consciously commanding it, he summoned Minya.
But this Minya was different.
It took the form of a large, thin, circular shield — no thicker than half an inch.
A fragile, unconscious defense.
The knife smashed into the summoned shield.
Instead of the shield breaking, however, the blade of the throwing knife shattered on impact, leaving only a dent in the fragile barrier.
Minya: creates purple projectiles. (Mastery Level: 3) — NEW
New application of Minya found. Skill tree upgrading. Creation of rudimentary constructs unlocked.
— NEW
Two notifications followed by a sharp ding echoed through Toyota's head.
But he had no time to read them — he had to focus on escaping.
Forcing himself to move, he bolted toward more populated areas, weaving through the crowd as best he could.
Meanwhile, the mercenary who had been casually watching him earlier now sobered instantly, his playful grin wiped clean.
The boy he was ordered to kill... was a magic user.
As he readied himself to chase, Lord Rev's shrill voice cut through the air:
"So incompetent! If you attacked earlier, he wouldn't have been able to use his magic! You aren't worth your cost!"
Rev's fury quickly overwhelmed any sense of caution he might have had.
Storming over to his hired mercenary, he grabbed him by the collar, shaking him slightly.
"Are you trying to ruin my reputation?!"
The mercenary stood there silently, feeling a strange awe.
Did every noble have this level of suicidal arrogance?
Threatening people who could easily kill them, protected only by their title?
He stared into Rev's furious eyes — eyes full of misplaced confidence — and for a brief, tantalizing moment, the mercenary fantasized about what it would be like to run him through right there, to watch that arrogance shatter in an instant.
***
While Toyota hated the idea of using civilians as shields, he knew it was the most logical move right now.
If his opponent cared about their reputation — and judging by angry mans tantrum earlier, he clearly did — then attacking him openly would be impossible.
No wide-range spells. No reckless pursuit.
Exactly the kind of hesitation he was betting on.
Besides, chasing him through a crowd would be hard for anyone who didn't want a riot on their hands.
He briefly considered calling the knights.
But then again... weren't knights and nobles basically on the same side?
And even if he somehow found a few good knights, could they even do anything against a noble?
In Lagunica's system, nobility outranked law enforcement.
In other words, they were useless.
As he ran, he flicked open the notifications in the corner of his vision.
His eyes quickly skimmed the messages — and immediately narrowed.
Minya proficiency increased. Skill tree updated. Creation of rudimentary constructs unlocked.
Confusion flooded him.
He hadn't even cast Minya! How did it level up on its own?
While having his spell improve was undeniably a good thing, the system was starting to feel... unreliable.
Random upgrades, sudden skill branches — it made no sense.
He shelved the irritation for now.
Surviving came first. He could deal with the system's nonsense later.
Avoiding that Lord became his top priority.
And after that, he needed to find someone trustworthy — someone powerful enough that even a noble wouldn't recklessly mess with him.
Which meant no more blindly asking random temperamental strangers for directions.
After a few more tense minutes weaving through the capital, he finally found what he needed: a clothing store.
It wasn't anything too special, but the outfits displayed in the window looked expensive enough.
Without hesitation, he walked in, pointed at an elegant set of clothes — and dropped a single coin onto the counter.
It was... definitely overkill.
The outfit he chose was ridiculous compared to what most citizens wore.
It was like a blend of a refined 1800s gentleman's suit and the long, sweeping black robes you'd expect from Hogwarts — clean, sleek, and a little too impressive for someone like him.
Was he wasting his money?
Absolutely.
But he still had plenty left, and for his plan, looking like a background noble rather than a extra was critical.
Blend in. Hand off information. Stay useful but invisible.
Once he changed, he started asking around discreetly, trying to find the Sword Saint's mansion.
After a few wrong turns and weird looks, he was finally led to a massive estate — a building so large it could only be called a mansion.
Multiple floors. Beautiful balconies. Rows of stone statues lining the courtyard.
But something immediately felt off.
The front gates looked wrecked, like they'd been forcefully smashed open and only half-heartedly repaired.
Guards still stood at attention, but even they seemed tense, glancing around as if expecting more trouble.
Toyota hesitated before approaching one of them.
"Can I... meet with the Sword Saint?" he asked, keeping his voice low and polite.
The guard shook his head immediately.
"They're not here."
A pit settled into Toyota's stomach.
Where else would Reinhard be?
He should have been here — training Felt, preparing her for the Royal Selection.
Something was wrong.
The mansion's battered condition. The guards' wary posture.
Did something happen?
He swallowed his anxiety and asked again, softer this time.
"Do you know where they went?"
The guard, after a brief pause, simply pointed down the road, toward the city's large central park.
Toyota clenched his fists, thanking the guard quietly before setting off in that direction.
(AN: I've been busy with school work, so I've had to delay the writing and posting of this chapter. I'm sorry I had to make a 25-slide PowerPoint with people who didn't pull their own weight.
I've set an official release schedule: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Although when I get bored, I add extra.
Bonus chapters will drop on Saturdays if my demands are met. 🔫
Trade deal:
You give me 70 power stones, and I give you a bonus chapter.
Sounds fair, right?)