The Child Who Swallows Stones
Jona Waihiemhai.
Jona recalled the boss who had bestowed that name upon him.
He owed the Boss an immense debt of gratitude, yet it was by no means unconditional grace. Take the name alone. He had discarded his distant past alongside his former name, but in return, hadn't he been saddled with an intensely bizarre new moniker? Whenever he remembered the peculiar looks people gave him upon hearing it, his grip instinctively tightened around what he held.
Crack.
"A needless piece of trash."
Crushing the wooden hilt into splintered scrap beneath his bare grip, he pulled out the mangled handle, tossed it into the refuse bin, and slotted the bare blade into a fresh hilt.
Whirrr—
Swish, sh-sh-swish.
He slashed and lunged through empty air, testing the balance. The grip and piercing feedback felt passable. Nodding with modest satisfaction, he readjusted his hold.
Chop-chop-chop.
The kitchen knife danced across the cutting board!
The young lady he had been assigned to serve this time was a profoundly unfortunate child. Setting aside whether he was skilled at it or not, cooking was never a chore he particularly enjoyed, but whenever he laid eyes on that pitiful young lady, an irrepressible urge welled up within him to do anything and everything he could for her.
She seemed to have cleanly forgotten whatever contract she signed with the Boss.
When he first laid eyes on her, he had merely assumed she possessed a remarkably decent face for one of the countless parentless street urchins wandering the gutters. Yet the Boss's eye for talent was truly extraordinary; against all odds, the girl possessed uncanny natural gifts in physical stamina and armed combat.
A raw, unpolished genius.
Even without receiving formal instruction from anyone, the stances and execution she displayed were so formidable that nothing short of sheer genius could explain them. Perhaps it was thanks to that very talent—the secret behind how such a tiny, frail young lady had managed to survive the cutthroat alleys on her own.
Miraculous that she didn't end up a whore.
In this wretched world, a girl with even a passably pretty face would be dragged off by pimps, weeping hysterically while being forced to service over ten patrons every single day. Even without witnessing it firsthand, one could fathom what kind of grueling life she must have endured to acquire such swift feet, stamina that defied her petite frame, and diverse weapon proficiencies.
However, her severe mental defects pose a significant concern.
As if harboring deep scars from street predators ambushing her night after night to covet her body, the girl had no idea how to sleep properly. The instant his eyes strayed from her, she would pull off acrobatic feats—vanishing into hollowed-out liquor casks, empty wooden crates, behind weapon storage racks, or even clinging to ceiling chandeliers. Day by day, her hiding spots grew increasingly technical. It was putting the butler responsible for her oversight in quite a bind.
A timid, high-maintenance alley cat of a young lady. Certainly not a common breed.
Though he played the part of butler around this time every year, he had never in his life encountered a charge as unconventional as this year's.
"It is time for your meal, my Lady."
Setting down a pot of bubbling stew alongside seasoned vegetable side dishes, he gave the chime bell on the dining table a light flick.
Ting.
Humans are creatures of adaptation. Employing one's wits spares the body unnecessary toil. The moment he counted to three in his head, rapid pitter-patter footsteps echoed as Lady Orknodi came dashing over.
It was the fruit of realizing that ringing the bell was far more efficient than playing hide-and-seek to track her down—yet the direction the sound came from felt distinctly wrong.
"..."
Surely not.
To his dismay, a ceiling plank clicked open, and a dainty little head popped right out. Perhaps calling her a rat would be more accurate than an alley cat.
"You are smothered in dust, my Lady."
"Ah."
"We shall dine only after you have washed your face."
Lady Orknodi wiped her face with the rough, vigorous bravado of a street boy. Splashing just enough water to wet her skin, as if she had forgotten she was even a girl. Because her efforts were so half-hearted, Jona personally spent a full minute meticulously wiping her face clean with a damp cloth.
...I hardly know what to write in the report to the Boss.
After completing the day's training itinerary, he tucked a forcibly bedridden Orknodi beneath the covers, stepped out of the room, and took pen to paper.
• Exhibits deep-seated psychological trauma resulting from prolonged street vagrancy.
• Presumed to suffer from multiple mental disorders, including chronic insomnia and avoidant personality disorder.
• Appears to have completely forgotten the terms of the contract, yet currently remains actively cooperative during combat training.
• Possesses an exceedingly faint awareness of herself as a female. In daily routines such as dining and hygiene, she habitually behaves like a street urchin—rushing through everything as quickly and inconspicuously as possible solely for the sake of survival.
• Circumstantial evidence indicates she acquired wand magic in exchange for providing her own blood to an underground street sorcerer, ingesting illicitly modified concoctions, and serving as a test subject in biological experiments. Said sorcerer was interrogated under torture and subsequently eliminated. No direct physical evidence of criminal battery against Lady Orknodi was recovered; however, it was verified that the perpetrator had indeed used numerous orphans as human guinea pigs.
• The precise source of her swordsmanship and archery remains unverified, but she demonstrates techniques on par with at least Iron Plate Rank adventurers. Additional investigation required regarding potential illicit transactions.
• [...]
Rustle.
A rat?
No, impossible. Unlike humans, beasts instinctively sense their apex predators. He drew his blade without making a whisper of sound and slipped out into the corridor.
Upon descending to the living room, he spotted a familiar petite silhouette.
Lady Orknodi. The prodigy taken in by the Boss.
Where could she possibly be heading at such an ungodly hour? Even if he intervened right now, it would only be troublesome if she subsequently plotted an escape behind his back. To prevent future recurrences, it was far better to ascertain her true objective first.
Could she be sneaking off with stolen valuables like a petty thief?
There had indeed been foolish young ladies of that sort in the past. More than a few possessed sticky fingers. Jona silently hoped that this pitiful young lady, at least, was not one of them. Etiquette instruction was agonizing for both the pupil and the instructor.
That is...
Lady Orknodi's destination was neither a black-market stall nor a pawnshop dealing in hot goods. It was a desolate, empty park in the dead of night. What in the world was she planning in a place like this?
Surely she does not possess some tiresome, twisted hobby...
If she were a young lady who indulged in deviant private pleasures in the dark, it would bring ruin to the Boss's reputation as well. Should such a predilection be uncovered, basic etiquette education would no longer suffice; comprehensive conditioning would be in order.
While he braced himself for the worst, Lady Orknodi's cheeky nocturnal mischief finally commenced.
Walking balanced along the stone curbstones encircling the park fountain.
Leaping between shop signboards from one perch to the next.
Treading along the crest of brick walls with both arms outstretched.
...I wasted my concern on nothing.
What on earth was she doing? Was this a lingering habit from her vagrant days, when she secretly played along the nighttime alleys? She possessed such remarkable balance and nimble footwork that an incredulous chuckle nearly escaped his lips.
"It should be right around here... Ah, is this it?"
What had she found? Squinting through the shadows to spy on her, he saw her reach down and pick up something from atop the perimeter wall. No matter how hard he scrutinized it, all that met his eyes was a common pebble.
Did she intend to keep a pretty stone as a trinket? A rather endearing hobby. Still, prowling the night risked running afoul of patrol guards or alleyway ruffians, so he would need to make her exercise restraint. To ensure she could not slip away, he resolved to wait until tomorrow's breakfast to caution her at the dining table.
Just as he settled on that decision, Lady Orknodi popped the stone she had just picked up straight into her mouth and swallowed it whole.
This girl... she's truly done it now.
"What in the world do you think you are doing?!"
"Mmmph?!"
"Spit it out this instant!"
The butler materialized out of thin air and began thumping her back with heavy pats, but she wasn't about to hack it up over a few thumps.
Gulp!
Like a snake swallowing its prey, she gulped down the Stat Stone, sending it vanishing past her throat.
Yes, a Stat Stone. A magical stone that permanently boosts a stat upon consumption.
A dull ache throbbed in her temples, and a familiar notification window flashed before her eyes.
You have consumed a Stat Stone.
A random attribute increases by 1.
In the game, all you had to do was click the "Use" button, and the Stat Stone would automatically apply its effect. But now, the game had become reality. With no "Use" button and no manual on how to absorb it, the only way to activate a Stat Stone was to swallow the damn thing.
It's not that I hate grinding at the training grounds, but I can't just pass up nocturnal park grinding either!
Balance was a proficiency that proved useful across countless combat situations. You had to level it up whenever the opportunity presented itself.
You walked along park curbstones at night for over 1 minute.
Balance EXP +2 | Nocturnal EXP +1
You leaped between shop signboards at night for over 1 minute.
Balance EXP +6 | Nocturnal EXP +2
You walked along the wall with arms outstretched at night for over 1 minute.
Balance EXP +4 | Nocturnal EXP +1
An insanely efficient veteran route that rewarded both proficiency experience and raw stat growth simultaneously! And while she was at it, she had to scoop up Stat Stones whenever they spawned.
Stat Stones whose spawn points are completely known are precious rarities.
Four to five potential spots. A Stat Stone's location shifted based on RNG probabilities between a handful of designated coordinates. If you didn't know every single spawn node, you'd miss it entirely, and if you arrived even a second too late, it was all too common for another NPC to pick it up or for an environmental object to smash it to pieces.
I appreciate the butler looking after my training regimen, but there's no way in hell I'm giving up free Stat Stones!
Though she never imagined she'd literally have to swallow them raw like a pelican.
"Why on earth did you swallow a stone, my Lady?"
"I-It's a secret..."
"Do I not prepare every single meal for you with utmost care?"
"I'm sorry..."
"If the Master were to learn that Lady Orknodi engages in such behavior, it would break his heart."
From the perspective of an NPC who wasn't a player, things like Stat Stones didn't exist. To him, it simply looked like a perfectly normal child had suddenly lost her mind, prowled through the dark streets, and started gulping down gravel.
...I must look like a complete lunatic to him. I have to come up with some kind of excuse.
"I couldn't help it! If I don't eat them, I won't be able to survive in the future!"
Stat deficiency was a matter of life and death. In this game, items had no hard equip requirements. Any piece of equipment you grabbed, you could physically pick up. You just paid for inadequate stats with your own torn ligaments, backfiring curses, and getting pulverized into red paste in real combat. You had to grind stats ahead of time so they wouldn't drag you down later.
Did that desperate gamer sincerity somehow reach him?
Instead of a stern scolding, the butler gaped like a landed fish as if struck across the back of the head, before slowly averting his gaze.
"...Starting tomorrow, I shall serve you significantly larger portions."
"Whoa. Really?"
"In return, please promise me that you will never fill your stomach with stones again."
This... the way she was being perceived felt distinctly alarming. He was treating her like an impoverished Third World child forced to bake and eat mud cookies to fend off starvation. Yet even though it was a catastrophic misunderstanding, there was no way she could explain the truth.
"...I'll try."
She had no choice but to offer a noncommittal promise to eat fewer stones from now on. Evidently dissatisfied with such a lukewarm reply, the butler's gaze bored into her with burning concern.
She felt genuinely sorry for him. But even beneath that piercing, protective stare, she couldn't bring herself to say she would stop eating them entirely.
The world was vast, and the Stat Stones waiting to be swallowed were legion!