When it comes to the matter of the "Awakening Stone" in truth, the so-called talent in this world is not merely something one can possess simply by wishing for it or demanding it. When you sit down and think about it, it makes perfect sense; anything that carries superior power capable of fundamentally altering a human's destiny is hardly likely to just drop out of the sky and land on someone's head with ease.
Consequently, the citizens of the Empire often whisper to one another about two distinct paths to lay one's hands on such power. The first path involves being pushed by the currents of life to the very brink of despair; when a life hangs by a mere thread, the primal instinct for survival will trigger dormant potential, revealing one's talent. This type of talent, traded for blood and tears, is usually far more domineering and powerful, with an incredibly high adaptability for combat. However, it is also the sharpest of double-edged swords, as many poor souls breathe their last breath the moment they finish triggering it, leaving them no life to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
The second method is significantly safer and represents the path that the vast majority of Imperial citizens desperately crave: utilizing an Awakening Stone.
This is a rare type of natural mineral, mined only in moderation at a small quarry situated on the border's edge. The energy hidden within it is just enough to awaken human potential while being as gentle and mild as a warm stream of water, ensuring that the user does not have to suffer any physical risks whatsoever. In this day and age, except for eccentrics or the incredibly unlucky, most awakened individuals owe their status to the assistance of this stone. Consequently, the government tries to suppress and keep prices at a stable level, even as the reserves of the stone grow increasingly scarce.
Expensive is still expensive, but at least on developed planets, if people tighten their belts and starve themselves for a few years, there is still hope of affording one.
But that is a story for those living in high and mighty places. Here on this godforsaken, backwater planet where monkeys cough and cranes crow, one should not even dream of it. When merely scraping together enough money to connect to the internet to update the news is already a complex, insoluble problem, where on earth would one find the money to demand an Awakening Stone? It is nothing but a delusional pipe dream!
...
After the brief, concise conversation with Asher Ryder, Ewan returned to the bathroom to clean himself up. The large tub of water he had used earlier had not yet been drained, and the warm steam still lingered in the cramped space. He casually grabbed the two sets of clean clothes that Asher had just handed him, intending to change right there. After all, continuing to wear his old, tattered, and filthy outfit forever was certainly not a good idea.
The moment his hand touched the fabric, Ewan paused. The sensation transmitted from his fingertips told him the material of these two sets was completely different from the rough fabric that Asher was wearing. It appeared to be cotton; just looking at the surface, one could see it was significantly softer and smoother than the other man's attire.
Truth be told, Ewan did not pay too much attention initially. It was not until he had finished cleaning up and stepped out hugging Flarie that he accidentally overheard a murmuring conversation drifting in. The voices were not too loud but clear enough to hear; it seemed to be the voice of a middle-aged woman who was not particularly pleased:
"I am telling you the honest truth, Asher. You don't know him, he is not your kith and kin, so why are you digging into your own pocket to buy cotton clothes for him? The weather this season isn't exactly freezing, so what would be the harm in just throwing him a set of hemp clothes to wear temporarily? Cotton, even if it is second-hand goods people are reselling, still costs an arm and a leg. You said you picked him up at the edge of the forest, right? Just looking at that wretched state of his, surely he doesn't have a single credit in his pocket. Where is he going to get the money to pay you back?"
The woman sighed, her voice full of distress over the expense: "More than one hundred credits... good heavens, you don't realize how long you will have to break your back in the fields to earn that amount back."
Listening to that tone, it seemed she was agonizing over the money on Asher's behalf. But when Ewan stole a glance through the narrow crack, although he could not see her face clearly, he saw her hands very distinctly.
Her mouth was busy complaining about the heartache of spending money, yet her hands counted the currency with practiced dexterity, flipping through each credit bill without missing a single beat. Truly a business person, sentiment is one thing, but financial matters must remain crystal clear.
"It is alright, Ms. Lauren." Asher's voice rang out, his tone gentle and patient. "After all, he is an Omega. His skin is delicate, he cannot possibly wear rough clothing like I do."
"So what if he is an Omega?" Ms. Lauren's voice suddenly rose a pitch, carrying a note of practical indignation: "In this destitute place, dropping with poverty, do we still have the luxury to distinguish between Omega and Alpha? Who here does not have to sell their face to the earth and their back to the sky just to earn a meager bite to eat? Now that he has arrived here, he has to learn to adapt. Even finding land to farm is a struggle difficult enough to touch the dust, let alone throwing tantrums or acting spoiled."
Ms. Lauren seemed poised to grumble a few more sentences of life philosophy, but Asher tactfully found a way to see his guest out. Ewan stood silently behind the curtain blocking the hallway, clicking his tongue softly. He lowered his head, his hand unconsciously stroking the soft cotton fabric on his body.
In the past, when Ewan existed merely as a wandering soul, he had once witnessed all manner of magnificent scenery in the world. However, that was merely observation from a distance, cold and detached. Ewan had never truly touched them.
This was the very first time he could perceive the subtle, exquisite differences of physical matter. He began to vaguely understand why human beings cherished money so much, why they valued a simple piece of clothing or a scrap of fabric to such a degree.
Before, Ewan could only imagine sensations through the emotional fluctuations of others. They would complain about heat and cold, or smile when comfortable; he saw it but did not truly understand what the definition of those feelings was. Not until he obtained this body.
How would hemp fabric differ from cotton?
Perhaps it is harder, pricklier, and more irritating when rubbing against the skin. Although Ewan himself had never tried wearing hemp, this cotton outfit was truly not bad. While the material could not compare to the silks and brocades he had seen in his memories, it brought a sense of softness, comfort, and safety.
Even sitting on the cold stone bed felt a few degrees less harsh because of it.
Ewan just stood there dazed, looking down and fingering the hem of his shirt, immersed in wandering thoughts so deep that he did not realize completely that Asher Ryder had approached.
Seeing Ewan's vacant look and the position where he was standing, Asher immediately guessed that he had heard the entire conversation between himself and Ms. Lauren. He sighed softly, his voice lowering in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness: "It was not that much money, do not let your thoughts wander."
Looking at the scrawny young man standing before him, Asher suddenly felt his heart soften and sink. This image was strangely, uncannily similar to himself in the days of old. That year, he too had washed up on this planet all alone, his memory nothing but a dense fog, possessing no skills whatsoever. If his adoptive parents had not opened their arms to take him in, perhaps Asher would have become a nameless grave in the cold wilderness long ago.
Back then, he was probably around Ewan's current age - naive, weak, looking as if he could not survive his first harsh winter. Yet, in the blink of an eye, five or six years had passed. Asher had not only matured and stubbornly survived the cruelty of nature but also inherited his adoptive father's excellent hunting skills.
It was just a pity that his adoptive parents, old and frail, could not withstand the seasons of incessant snow and had left him one by one.
Now looking at the kid in front of him, Asher felt a stir of emotion. Perhaps due to empathy with his own past, he decided to keep him, knowing full well that another person meant another burden.
"I have already sought out the Village Chief to speak with him." Asher broke the heavy silence: "He said that if you wish to stay, you are free to do so, provided that you do not cause trouble or wreck things in the village. The only catch is that the arable farming land has already been distributed, there is no share for a newcomer like you."
He paused for a moment before continuing: "There is land for building a house; there is endless wasteland here. You could just find a vacant plot and put up a thatched hut. But..."
Asher glanced at Ewan, his eyes unable to hide his skepticism. "With that frail body of yours that looks like it would blow away in a single gust of wind, can you really survive out there alone?"
Catching that evaluating gaze, a wave of defiance rose in Ewan's heart. He wanted to scream: Why not? I am perfectly capable of living on my own! But despite his sky-high pride, Ewan was sane enough to estimate his own strength. This body of his - perhaps starved to the point of malnutrition by the Vance family - was just skin and bones, without an ounce of muscle to be found. With this feeble strength, going out to be independent would likely mean ascending to the heavens again before the month was out.
Ewan did not answer, he just lowered his head and pursed his lips tightly, engaging in a fierce internal struggle about how to survive with dignity.
Seeing his silence, Asher did not have the heart to push him: "If you do not mind, you can stay here. My house has a spare room anyway. I am a hunter. Year-round, I rely mostly on the mountains and forests for my livelihood. The two plots of farming land I was allocated are still sitting empty. If they are not cultivated this year, the village will reclaim them."
He made a proposal that was incredibly reasonable and sensible: "Now, you take charge of them. You get a place to live, and I get to keep the land, saving us from wasting heaven's gifts."