First Friends
To Max and Jessie, the arrival of a pretty girl their own age was both a welcome surprise and a fascinating novelty.
“Hey, why were you hiding inside the ball pit anyway?”
“Didn’t want to play with the little kids?”
“Dummy, girls get shy, okay? She was probably just embarrassed.”
“Ha! Shy, my foot. She looks like a total tomboy.”
“Excuse me? Didn’t I tell you I’d beat you up if you kept being mean?!”
“Ow! Stop! That hit a bone!”
They immediately tumbled into squabbling amongst themselves.
Must be nice, I thought idly as I watched them.
“Are you two friends?”
“Our parents make us hang out,” Max grumbled. “Our families are both baronies with bordering lands back home.”
“Look who’s talking when you’re the one being rude…” Jessie muttered, pouting.
Between Max sticking out his lower lip the second he got sulky and Jessie teasing him with a smug, “What, do you like me or something?”, the two made quite the entertaining pair.
“Sorry about startling you earlier,” I said. “Whenever I go somewhere new, I just feel better hiding…”
“Oh, I totally get that,” Max agreed. “Strangers are annoying, and it makes you just want to run away.”
“Are you two on your way to take the entrance exam too?”
Both kids tilted their heads at the same time.
“Us?”
“We’re only ten!”
“You’re not?”
“How could a ten-year-old take the entrance exam?”
“Even twenty-year-olds can barely pass it!”
A flicker of sheer disbelief sparked in both pairs of eyes.
“Wait… are you on your way to take the entrance exam?”
“For real?”
I got the distinct feeling I had slipped up.
When I cautiously nodded, gasps of “Whoaaa!” and “That’s insane!” burst out in unison.
It was a look I hadn’t seen in a very long time—the exact same envious stare I used to get back in the day whenever I pulled a rare foil seal from a pack of remastered Pokémon stickers and slapped it onto my collection notebook.
“What’s your name?”
“Orknodi.”
“That’s so weird.”
“How is anyone named Orknodi?”
Tell me about it.
“My older brother is fifteen and going to take the exam,” Max chimed in. “I hope you pass instead of him, Orknodi.”
“Why?”
“Because then I can tease him forever about losing to a ten-year-old!”
I really didn’t want his support for a reason like that.
Still, shady motivations aside, chatting with the two of them turned out to be surprisingly fun. Time flew by so quickly that none of us even noticed the sun setting and late night creeping in.
“Oh shoot, we have to go!”
“Hey, Max! Go get your brother, hurry!”
A pager-like device began buzzing and vibrating like a cafe buzzer, prompting Max to scoop up a drowsy toddler—barely a year old—who had been nodding off nearby.
“Abubu…”
“Hey, put that down. You can’t take the balls from the pit!”
“Abubaba!!”
“Ow! Stop pushing my face!”
“Pfft. You’re awful at babysitting.”
Flushing crimson at Jessie’s sneer, Max tried to pry the plastic ball from the baby’s hands. But the toddler put up a desperate fight, shoving Max with all his might while clutching the ball to his chest.
“It’s like a security blanket,” Jessie remarked from the side.
“My mom told me that once babies pass twelve months, they pick an attachment object to pour their love and attention into instead of their parents. Since there aren’t any stuffed animals or toys around here, he must’ve made that ball his attachment object.”
“You’re pretty smart, Jessie.”
“Hmph! Flattery won’t get you anything!”
If she had a tail, it would’ve been wagging like a propeller.
All that aside, there was something strange about that plastic ball. An odd tug in my gut whispered that I needed to inspect it.
“Want me to look after it?” I offered.
“The ball? Why?”
“I have to stay here a bit longer anyway.”
“Did you come here to babysit someone too?”
“Leaf told me she’d come pick me up if I waited.”
“Leaf?”
“My maid’s name.”
“Sounds cute. But do you really think you can take it? This kid is super greedy.”
“Only one way to find out.”
I made eye contact with the toddler.
“Hello there, little guy.”
“Ouma? Gya-gya!”
The baby’s eyes sparkled, and his chubby hands reached straight for my golden hair. As he grabbed a fistful of locks, the plastic ball naturally slipped from his grip and tumbled to the floor.
While I managed to secure the ball easily enough, several strands of my hair were sacrificed before Max finally managed to peel the baby off me.
“Sorry about that. My little brother’s kind of a terror, huh?”
“It’s fine. It didn’t even hurt.”
“You’re ridiculously mature. Is that why you’re taking the entrance exam? You’re the same height as us, but you act like a total adult. If that were me, I’d be so mad I wouldn’t even be able to smile.”
That’s because I actually am an adult.
After seeing off Max, his brother, and Jessie, I picked up the ball the toddler had been hoarding.
Glistening with a heavy coat of drool, the sphere felt peculiarly different in weight compared to the other plastic balls. Or rather, to be precise, it felt like it lacked weight entirely. It seemed less like a ball and more like something else disguised as one.
The sensation was undeniably familiar. I knew what this kind of object was.
Wait… could this be a Stat Stone?
It was entirely possible. The Kids Zone was an area I had never once set foot in back when I played as a hulking, muscular male character. It wouldn’t be surprising in the least if there were Stat Stones hidden here that I knew nothing about.
Only one way to find out: eat it.
I wiped the slobber off on my sleeve, opened my mouth wide, and swallowed it in a single gulp.
Gulp.
It slid down my throat with buttery smoothness.
My guess was spot-on. That distinct, effortless swallow—it was definitely a Stat Stone.
Wonder which stat went up?
Once I enrolled in the academy, their institutional magic would let me view my status screen even without a native player interface. I really couldn’t wait to get in.
Lost in thought, I turned my head—only to lock eyes with Jessie, who stood frozen with both hands clamped over her mouth.
“I-I just came back for something I forgot…”
In her hand was a small pouch.
In short: terrible timing.
“Orknodi…?! Why did you swallow a ball from the pit?!”
“Uh, wait, no, this is, uh…”
“We have to get you to a healer right now!”
She grabbed my wrist, straining and panting as she dragged me along. With an estimated Strength stat of 29, there was no way a girl her size could pull me an inch if I resisted. But terrified that she might hurt herself trying, I went limp and let myself be towed all the way to the emergency clinic.
What if Leaf came back while I was gone? Well, I could just head straight back afterward. It’d probably be fine, right?
Having successfully secured a way to infiltrate the casino, Leaf returned to the Kids Zone. Standing before the empty ball pit, she arrived at a swift conclusion.
The young lady’s chronic hide-and-seek habit has flared up again.
Though her master seemed to have concealed herself quite skillfully this time, Leaf was an assassin instructor dispatched by the Foundation. Finding people who didn’t want to be found was her bread and butter.
“Fufufu. I can hear your breathing, Milady. Could you perhaps be hiding behind the curtains?”
Rustle.
“No, not there… Then again, you wouldn’t make a choice as cliché as hiding inside a wardrobe, would you?”
Creak.
“If you took advantage of this being the Kids Zone nap room and hid beneath the bed, I might actually have to offer you some praise.”
Rattle.
“My, my, your hiding skills today are truly formidable, Milady… This will be a fine contest. Fufu.”
Her solitary game of hide-and-seek inside the deserted Kids Zone continued for quite some time.
The emergency clinic, established to handle acute cases aboard the vessel, was outfitted with a wide array of equipment and professional healers. Every field was accounted for, from priests wielding restorative miracles to surgical doctors and specialists treating exotic ailments.
In the game, rushing to an emergency clinic when injured assigned you a random doctor, which often led to ridiculous treatments or completely botched care.
A skilled priest could snap a shattered bone right back into place, but low-tier acolytes were a total coin toss. From my perspective as a veteran who understood the risks, an emergency clinic was the express lane to ruining a build. Junior Priest Ezio, who was currently manning the night shift, was notorious among players as the 'Bone Mangler'—an avatar of impending dread.
“You said your friend swallowed a ball?”
“Yes! Please, do something, quickly!”
“Hmm. By the looks of it, she’s clearly over five years old. She’s registered, right? Please press your palm against this Mana Board.”
What’s this? Some new feature that wasn’t in the game?
When I pressed my hand against the plaster-like stone slab, the surface yielded softly, leaving a clear imprint of my palm. An intricate magic circle flared across the slab, followed by a sequence of familiar geometric glyphs: Transmission, Record, and Analysis.
What kind of spell was this?
“Heavens above!”
“What is it, Doctor?”
Could it be a power-level scanner? Don't tell me my combat power is over 530,000?
“To reach this age without being registered in the International Identity Registration Magic Archives… She’s completely stateless!”
It wasn't a combat scouter at all. It was an identity verification spell.
“Whaaat?! Could there be a mistake, Doctor? Orknodi boarded the airship with a butler and a secretary, and she’s even preparing for the academy entrance exam!”
At Jessie’s frantic protest, the doctor chuckled warmly and rose from his seat.
“Yes, of course. It’s far more likely that the repeater malfunctioned and failed to query the archives properly. Surely no parents would leave a child approaching ten years of age unregistered.”
Chuckling to himself, the doctor stepped out of the room. A moment later, a group of physicians gathered on the other side of the transparent glass partition overlooking the corridor, their expressions dead serious as they conversed in hushed tones. Several nurses stepped out as well, whispering among themselves and casting uneasy glances in our direction, offering awkward little waves whenever our eyes met.
“Hey, Orknodi… Are you really not registered?”
“Dunno!”
“Huh?! You’ve never used an identity registration circle? It gives you a free talent assessment just for registering!”
“I don't know what I don't know. Nobody ever told me magic like that existed.”
“Not even the butler who came with you? Or the maid?”
“Nope.”
Jessie’s expression darkened, matching the grim faces of the doctors outside.
“Attention, all passengers. A guardian is currently searching for a lost child.”
“She is a ten-year-old girl, approximately 133 centimeters tall, of slight build, wearing a ribbon headband and a female adventurer outfit set.”
“Anyone who spots this child is kindly requested to escort her to the nearest crew member.”
Uh-oh.
“Sounds like Leaf is looking for me. I have to get back.”
“Don’t go.”
“Jessie?”
“My mom and dad told me… Any family that doesn’t even register their child isn’t normal. Your family isn’t normal, Orknodi!”
“Well…”
I kind of agreed with that assessment, honestly. But did it really matter? He gave me funding, provided high-tier training… In the grand gacha of random dad events, you’d be hard-pressed to find a patron this helpful. In my personal ranking across all my playthroughs, he was easily in the top tier of dads.
“Papa isn’t bad. I’m actually really grateful to him. And I’m always thankful to Jona and Leaf for helping with my training, too.”
“Training?! What kind of training does a family put you through when they won’t even do basic registration?!”
“Swordsmanship sparring? High-intensity interval sprints alternating between flat-out dashes and walking? Shooting arrows at squirrels tied to targets or caged rabbits?”
Jessie’s face drained of every drop of color. Her eyes shook, looking at me the way someone might look at an abused child surviving horrific domestic torture.
“We’re running away.”
“What?”
“If they catch you, something awful is going to happen to you again!”
A fierce, burning sense of righteous duty flared to life in Jessie’s eyes.