Chapter 83
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Peeking at Silver Rank
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The routine for my first week in the Demonic Realm was simple.
Exploring the Demonic Realm under Helen's watchful eye.
When I reached my absolute limit and couldn't go on, Helen would step in and carry me back to the mansion.
After that routine repeated for a week, I began to vaguely grasp what to watch out for, what to be wary of, and what to focus on.
From then on, I could venture a bit deeper into the Demonic Realm, and around that time, Helen gave me a new task.
Not just exploring and returning, but gathering herbs that only grew in the Demonic Realm and bringing them back.
The exploration itself was still tense and grueling, but I was improving little by little.
Yet the demand to gather herbs made it several times harder than my initial forays.
Finding the herbs was one problem, harvesting them another.
In the Demonic Realm, where dozens of poisonous plants mimicked medicinal herbs, I had no innate ability to instantly distinguish them.
On the first day, I failed to complete Helen's assignment. The next day, I couldn't tell herbs from poisons and collapsed paralyzed in the heart of the Demonic Realm.
Various venomous insects and beasts closed in on me as I lay there sprawled like a frog.
Helen saved me, and I barely survived.
After that, I decided to be more cautious.
I studied the herbs and poisons intently.
Leaf shapes, scents, root strands, colors, textures—everything.
I wasn't the sharpest, but this wasn't about smarts.
If I couldn't distinguish them, I'd die before Helen could help. That realization drove me to grind through it for two weeks.
I could finally gather a few easier ones, and in the process, honed my judgment between right and wrong.
Demonic Realm exploration, herb gathering.
For a full month—though it felt much longer—my days weren't directly tied to sword training.
Yet the Demonic Realm's uniqueness demanded constant vigilance, and distinguishing herbs sharpened my senses.
By the time I dragged my utterly exhausted body back to the mansion after exploration and gathering, collapsing into bed left no time for separate sword practice.
Still, at some point, slicing through Demonic Realm insects felt noticeably keener.
Two months into this daily grind in the Demonic Realm.
The witch, who had left me alone until then, finally came to see me.
And she said,
"Helen said your eyes were cursed, so I figured I'd lift it for you. But this 'curse' feels more like an innate creepiness, doesn't it?"
"...What?"
Innate creepiness?
After ignoring me for two months, her sudden words were rude—but she was a Gold-rank adventurer, entitled to rudeness.
I was flustered but couldn't take offense; it didn't really bother me, though I couldn't hide my awkwardness.
"After close observation, I conclude your eyes aren't cursed at all."
"...Uh, okay?"
Innate creepiness...
Thinking about it, yeah.
This 'Gloomy Aura' wasn't a later addition—it was something I had from the start.
If "innate" meant from the very beginning, she wasn't wrong.
"Not a curse, so even I can't remove it."
The witch clicked her tongue, looking up at me.
"Those ridiculous sunglasses must be to hide those eyes, right?"
"...Yeah. Simplest way to deal with the creepiness."
Avoiding direct eye contact halved the disgust.
That's why I always wore the sunglasses, allowing a somewhat normal life.
"...I can't fix the creepiness, but I can free you from those silly sunglasses. Use this instead."
With that, the witch handed me a small box.
I took it hesitantly, glancing between her and the box before opening it.
Inside lay lenses.
Blue ones—common in this world, starkly different from my violet eyes.
"Made from materials Helen gathered. Lose them, and you're out of luck, so take care."
She explained the lenses.
In short, enchanted to suppress the unique aura people emit.
Once inserted, they'd feel like part of your body—no removal needed, no maintenance.
Superior to modern tech, but Gold-rank beings weren't human, so it wasn't that surprising.
I bowed in thanks. She seemed startled, then wore a smug, pleased expression as she left the room.
I put in the lenses and looked in the mirror.
Without sunglasses, nausea surged, self-harm urges rose, and even knowing it was me, hostility boiled.
With sunglasses, just queasiness and mild unease.
Now, with the lenses...
Nothing.
No twisting gut, no hostility, no bad feelings.
A slight foreign sensation lingered, but negligible.
"Doesn't feel bad..."
How long since I could look at myself without disgust?
I'd averted my eyes from my blurry bath reflection, flipped inn mirrors backward.
Staring now, my heart tickled oddly.
"...Heh."
I spent the day gazing in the mirror, only leaving it the next.
If Gloomy Aura ever ranked up, who knows—but for now, the best gift. Thanking the witch again,
She spent the day chest puffed, smug.
Probably called me "unlike that damned brat, one who knows gratitude."
Over 80 years old, looking about 10—adorably smug.
Time passed. Day 80 in the Demonic Realm.
Herb gathering grew routine, breeding complacency.
What I thought was a herb was poison. Touching it sent melting pain up my arm.
Even Helen couldn't help with this type.
I endured raw agony until it faded.
Wish I'd passed out, but pain sharpened my mind, driving me mad.
I thought I'd toughened to pain—arrogance mocked.
Two days battling agony, surviving left my arm useless—a week rehabbing.
Complacency's fault.
I'd have noticed normally.
Lesson learned. Reentering, I vowed never again.
Time flowed. Day 100.
Felt like over a year in.
Clear gains despite new tasks and crises.
All senses razor-sharp, judgment crystal-clear.
No more complacency. Distinguished most herbs/poisons.
Spotted disguised bugs/beasts instantly. Sword faintly keen—slicing what I couldn't before.
Impossible without Helen.
Her backup let bold risks for learning.
Without her, 100 lives wouldn't suffice.
Sliced a venomous bug, sheathed sword, returned to mansion.
Odd vibe today.
Helen's purpose: consult witch on capital events. Results from her contacts due.
Two letters at entrance.
One from Adventurer's Guild: 'No anomalies found.'
One from palace: 'Cease investigation to avoid unrest.'
Situation soured.
"Blunt warning—thought they'd play ignorant."
"What exactly did you bring back?"
"...Yeah."
Helen scratched her cheek, at a loss.
I recalled the sewer doll.
Definitely a player.
Its words screamed game awareness: junk items, level-ups, EXP.
Even the Saint wasn't so blatant.
Like me?
Head spun, but briefly.
Solvable puzzles warrant worry; unsolvable just frustrate.
Ask directly later.
As it said, if like-minds attract, we'll meet again.
But first,
Not sane. To question, I must overpower it.
Goal unchanged since start—no complexity.
While Helen and witch brooded over letters, I returned to my room, mirror-gazing.
Lately, routine ender: admiring unease-free self.
Pure joy.
Time flowed again.
Half-year in Demonic Realm.
Helen eyed me, assessed:
"Silver-rank adjacent."
"Heh..."
Despite meager talent. Half-year to glimpse Silver.