A Reward for a Good Child
When consumed, a Stat Stone raised a random attribute by one point.
However, a Low-grade Stat Stone could only raise a stat within the lower threshold. In other words, there was a hard cap on how high it could push any given attribute.
Orknodi’s vessel possessed exceptional innate potential. All of her base attributes had already been pushed right up against the ceiling for low-grade growth. Lately, she had become entirely certain of it: eating low-grade Stat Stones would no longer yield a single point of stat increase.
Unless she got her hands on a slightly bigger pebble—a Mid-grade Stat Stone—swallowing rocks simply wouldn't do anything for her stats anymore.
And so, it was purely out of goodwill that she offered it.
If it’s Mob, I don’t mind sharing a Stat Stone!
To be honest, she was curious, too. A Lower Class extra—a fledgling nobody she wouldn't have spared a second glance during any other playthrough. How far could this kid grow if she nurtured him? Would he be able to stay enrolled at the academy through his second year, or even his third? Feasibility aside, she found herself itching to test the limits. She genuinely wanted to keep him around for the long haul.
That was why she extended her favor. Even so, she hadn't expected him to agree quite so readily.
"You know you're eating a rock, right?"
"I've braced myself. If you're telling me to do it, Orknodi, there's definitely a good reason."
His mindset was already far from ordinary. Mob truly possessed an adaptability that defied his status as a mere extra. He was nothing like those mobs who would back out at the drop of a hat, whining, How could anyone do that?! That's impossible!
"Then... see you at dinner!"
Mob nodded, his face etched with grim determination—resembling a pet who had just realized it was destined for slaughter in two hours, yet chose to accept its fate willingly. He was utterly serious, but to anyone watching, that tense little face was both endearing and admirable.
"How is it going? Is his education progressing well?"
"I decided to train him this evening, too!"
"Fufu. That's my sweet little 'Di. Good girl, good girl. Please keep being such a good child, okay?"
Arcadia, whom she bumped into outside the lecture hall, reached down to pat her head. With her bountiful chest, whenever Arcadia raised her arms, her top clung tight, accentuating her upper silhouette rather conspicuously. Feeling embarrassed about where to look, Orknodi demurely averted her eyes, which Arcadia mistook as bashfulness from being petted. "There, there!" she cooed, rubbing her head even more vigorously.
In stark contrast to the warm, bubbly atmosphere between Orknodi and Arcadia, the lecture itself was pure torment.
"Today, you will learn a new skill," the instructor barked. "Until now, you've practiced Aerial Shot, Rapid Shot, and Power Shot. But what you will learn today is a Named Skill."
Using an idiosyncratic grip, the instructor loaded a bundle of arrows across the bow and let loose toward the target.
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
The arrows surged forward in a synchronized blur, embedding themselves into the target with sharp, rapid thuds to form a neat, vertical line. The unsuspecting students gasped in awe and burst into applause.
Mob, on the other hand, turned pale as a sheet.
"What are you doing, Mob? Didn't you see that?! Look at that insane shot!"
"You idiot... Why do you think the instructor showed us that?"
Mob's dread swiftly became reality.
"Beorm's Linear Volley. That is the name of the archery technique you will master today."
Named Skills demanded far more intricate mechanics and delicate micro-adjustments than ordinary skills. While mastery was exceptionally difficult, once acquired, their situational efficacy was in a league of its own compared to common techniques. It was a textbook skill belonging to the so-called "Advanced Curriculum"!
"To begin, novices will nock three arrows at once and gradually increase the count. I will also steadily raise the bar for effective range and accuracy."
"Instructor! So how exactly do we acquire this skill?" an innocent student asked, raising his hand.
It was a futile question.
"Properly."
"...Excuse me??"
"Diligently."
"Instructor??"
"Practice diligently for the next two hours."
"Wait, Instructor?! Excuse me?! Hey, where are you going?! Hey!!"
Amid the despairing students who had only just realized the grim reality, Mob silently reached for his quiver. The verdict had already been delivered. Complaining all day would accomplish nothing.
Attempting to nock multiple shafts onto the bowstring at once dragged out his aiming time and made his fingers tremble.
Thwack, swoosh, thud.
The arrows veered erratically—left, right, up, and down. Landing multiple arrows simultaneously in a neat, straight line was far from simple. If it was already this disastrous at a distance far closer than usual, the path to proficiency was bound to be brutally uphill.
Th-th-thump!
As if mocking his struggles, Scholar—the descendant of the Divine Archer—planted a volley of mana arrows in a crisp, unbroken line straight down his target. With effortless grace, Scholar steadily increased his arrow count and stretched his distance further and further back, with Orknodi hot on his heels.
While she wasn't quite at Scholar's level yet, she grasped the knack almost instantly—improving by leaps and bounds as though she were merely dusting off a technique she had practiced for decades.
Is this the difference in talent? The chasm between the Upper Class and the Lower Class that can never be bridged?
That was the scale of it.
The gulf between himself and Orknodi.
An abyss vastly wider than he had ever imagined. Effort alone wouldn't cut it; innate genius was truly a terrifying thing.
Catching up?
No.
Just keeping from being left in the dust was a struggle. This was no time to balk at eccentric methods.
That was why, the moment class ended, when he met her in a secluded back alley and received the pebble, he swallowed the stone without a shred of hesitation.
Ugh.
It was agonizing.
To force down something meant to be inedible. To swallow down the creeping dread that his body might suffer irreparable harm. To stifle the violent retching and suppress his body's natural rejection reflex.
It felt nothing short of self-inflicted torture.
"How is it? Feel anything?"
"My stomach feels bloated..."
"That's normal! Now let's move around and test which stat went up!"
They timed how quickly he could reach top speed in a full sprint, tested whether his maximum speed had increased, and measured the recovery time of his depleted stamina.
"Your Agility went up!"
This time, the time required to hit top speed had shrunk. His acceleration had improved.
"Really?"
"Yup!"
"Just from eating a rock?"
"Uh-huh!"
"Haha. I don't really get it, but that's amazing."
He couldn't fathom how it worked. Yet the records didn't lie. His time was undeniably faster than what they had recorded before he swallowed the stone.
"Do people normally get faster when they eat rocks?"
"Nope! It's because this was a special stone!"
"Thank you. For using such a special stone on me."
"As long as you know!"
As Mob brimmed with boundless gratitude, Orknodi chirped, "Paws!" and signaled for him to hold out his hand. Reaching into her pocket, she placed a piece of hard candy onto his open palm.
"You did good, so have some candy! It's Orknodi's reward for a good child!"
Strawberry.
The flavor brought an involuntary smile to his lips. In fact, it seemed to resemble the sweet scent that constantly hovered around Orknodi. She probably smelled like that because she was always snacking on sugary treats like this. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest, as if he had been let in on one of Orknodi's little secrets.
"Tasty, right?"
"Yeah."
"I was actually saving it until I see Leaf again, but I'm sharing it just for you!"
"Thank... you?"
Just as he began to thank her, his vision blurred. A violent wave of dizziness crashed over him, choking the breath from his lungs.
"—? —?!"
His head spun sickeningly. Orknodi's voice sounded faint, as if echoing from the end of a long tunnel.
Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.
Was it the rock? Or the candy? One of them was undeniably dangerous.
Was eating that stone a mistake after all...?
Clutching his throbbing temple, a groan escaped his lips before he collapsed with a heavy thud.
Blink. Blink.
Through his fluttering eyelids, the scenery whipped past in a dizzying blur. Cold wind scratched against his cheeks. Was Orknodi carrying him on her back, running?
She was fast. Infuriatingly fast.
I want to catch up to this speed...
With that final thought, darkness swallowed his consciousness whole.
"Are you awake?"
"Wh-where am I..."
"The infirmary."
As Mob tried to push himself up, the medic lightly tapped his forehead with a magic wand, pressing him back down onto the mattress.
"Shortness of breath, vertigo, muscular paralysis. You ingested a fairly potent neurotoxin. Any idea what caused it?"
Poison?
That was impossible. What he had swallowed wasn't poison.
"There must be some mistake. I only swallowed a stone, so how could there be poison..."
"How should I know? In any case, the girl who brought you in already paid for your treatment, so get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow."
"...I can't do that. If I stay here, I'll fall behind in class. Is there no way I can be discharged sooner?"
"The poison has already been neutralized, so you're free to leave right now if you really want to. I only suggested it because you need to recover your stamina. But since you ended up in the medical ward anyway, you'd be better off resting. The beds here are enchanted with an accelerated recovery effect, after all."
Having said his piece, the doctor drew the curtain shut, telling him to rest and leave whenever he pleased.
Groaning softly, Mob loosened his stiff muscles, only for a small slip of paper to tumble out beside the blanket.
The doctor said this much is totally fine and you won't die! See you in two days once you're all better!
— OKNODIE
It really was Orknodi who helped me.
As soon as his strength returned, he slipped out of the infirmary. It was quite late into the night—the hour when anyone heading back to the dorms would fall straight to sleep. But he had already slept more than enough.
His feet naturally carried him toward the Secret Training Ground.
"You certainly have tenacity. I heard you ended up in the infirmary."
"I can't afford to waste an entire day."
He ran into Zhuang at the Secret Training Ground again today. An Upper Class student like Orknodi, she was a petite, pretty girl belonging to the assassin class. Yet unlike Orknodi, who carried an air of childlike innocence, Zhuang felt far closer to a lethal killer, and tonight she offered her usual chilling smile.
"If mere training made you collapse, shouldn't you be resting more?"
"It wasn't like that. Orknodi helped me with some training, and I think my body was just caught off guard."
"Orknodi did?"
Her interest piqued, Zhuang listened as he recounted the evening's events, only to burst into riotous laughter.
"Ahaha! Ahahahaha!"
"Hey. You don't have to laugh at me that hard."
"I'm just amazed you actually swallowed it just because she told you to!"
"I couldn't help it. That's how desperate I was."
When he grumbled back in a sulky tone after being teased so mercilessly, Zhuang wiped a tear of laughter from her eye, her voice still trembling with amusement.
"Do you even know what kind of training you received?"
"Rock-eating training?"
"Wrong. Poison-ingestion training."
Zhuang smirked, looking as though she might die of amusement.
"The problem wasn't the stone. It was the candy."
"There was poison in the candy?"
"Haven't you figured it out yet? Orknodi gave you assassin training. The only training method she knows: the very one she was subjected to."
"...A poisoned candy that knocked me out for half a day after eating just one piece... Orknodi's been eating those regularly as part of her daily training?"
"Orknodi's organization is pretty vile, after all. And it wasn't even ordinary conditioning. Every time she tried to act like a 'good child,' they forced her to swallow a poisoned candy. It makes me glad I was raised under my master instead of her syndicate."
A deeply unsettling undertone hung in the air.
"...What do you mean?"
"You really are dense, aren't you?"
"Please. Tell me. I'm slow on the uptake, so I don't understand things easily."
Zhuang's doll-like, elegant face scrunched up into a frown, and she poked him squarely between the brows.
"Don't bow your head. Friends don't do that to each other."
"S-Sorry."
"When an assassin sees the back of someone's head... fufu. It makes us want to do things you'd rather not know about."
Mob swallowed hard, tension knotting his throat. It hit him afresh just what kind of beings assassins were, and what kind of world Orknodi and Zhuang inhabited. He thought he had grasped it to some extent, but what he knew was barely scratching the surface.
"I can tell you if you want... but are you sure you won't regret it?"
"Of course. We're friends, aren't we? Both you, Zhuang, and Orknodi."
"You shouldn't answer so lightly. If the way you treat us changes after hearing this... your smooth words won't mean a thing."
Her colorless eyes bore into him, as if excavating the deepest recesses of his thoughts. For some reason, that gaze felt terrifying.
"It could completely destroy the relationship you have with us right now. Even knowing that, do you still want to hear it?"
In Zhuang's eyes lurked a darkness so profound that he could never dare claim to understand their true selves.
When he finally nodded, he realized that the darkness Zhuang displayed before him paled in comparison to the abyss she was about to unveil regarding Orknodi.
"The poisoned candy was likely a punishment from the organization."
"A punishment?"
"A punishment she had to swallow every single time she wanted to be a 'good child.'"
"What on earth... does that even..."
"You still don't get it? Or are you just playing dumb? Chucle. Mob... acting cute is all well and good, but running away won't help. You're the one who asked for this."
He didn't want to hear it.
He didn't want to understand.
Step by step, Mob backed away, but Zhuang matched him pace for pace.
Thud.
His back hit the stone wall, and his knees buckled, sending him slumping to the floor. Zhuang leaned down and whispered into his ear.
"Do you understand now? When she couldn't bring herself to torment an animal she was ordered to torture. When she couldn't beat someone she was ordered to strike. When she couldn't kill a target she was ordered to murder."
"The punishment inflicted upon a 'good child' who resisted the conditioning meant to erase any revulsion toward violence and slaughter."
Distinct from Orknodi's saccharine sweetness, a sharp, pungent scent laced with the copper stench of blood drifted into Mob's nostrils.
"That is the kind of punishment an assassin organization means by a poisoned candy given to a 'good child.'"