Shib's Ability
Montihall noticed that the tea had gone cold, and since there was still much to discuss, he asked Jipri to brew a fresh pot. The goblin butler cleared away the old tea and snacks, then returned with a new spread. This time, he carried the steaming cups and the sweet-looking confections floating gently in the air without touching them.
As they sipped the fresh tea and continued their conversation, talk naturally turned to Bagan’s accomplishments. Montihall’s expression grew serious.
It was no small matter for the word “fief” to come from Montihall’s mouth. In the Seiros Kingdom, only Dragonians could receive land. In other words, he was treating Bagan as a member of the royal family despite him not being a Dragonian.
But Bagan had never done any of this for a reward, and he had no intention of accepting a fief even if offered.
‘I don’t have time to settle down in one place and manage it.’
Besides, although he had started in the Seiros Kingdom, he had no desire to belong to any single nation. Now that he had come to this world, he wanted to travel the entire globe.
Money wasn’t something he particularly wanted right now either. More was always better, but the treasure he had taken from the underworld was already substantial, and the tasks ahead didn’t require an enormous sum.
No matter what Montihall offered, none of it held much importance to Bagan.
‘I’ve already achieved my purpose for coming here. There’s no lingering attachment.’
In the end, there was nothing he wanted.
Bagan’s words struck deep in Montihall’s chest.
Bagan truly needed nothing, but Montihall was stubborn.
De Marinda was a city he would have to visit anyway. He was going there under the pretext of subjugating the underworld, but there was no harm in meeting the lord. After all, the lord of De Marinda was also a Dragonian—the very person who had turned the city into a place that could handle such enormous sums of money.
After spending a little more time together and wrapping up their pleasant conversation, Bagan and Gion left Demeca Castle.
“M-Master Bagan!”
Just as they were about to exit the castle gates, a voice called out from a distance. It was Lilia, who had come out with Vidion. She had run so hard she was breathing heavily. When she finally stood before Bagan, her courage failed her again and she couldn’t even look him in the eye, blushing with embarrassment.
Bagan waited patiently. At last, she seemed to steel herself and spoke.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, the words forced out with great difficulty.
It was already in the past, and Bagan hadn’t given it much thought.
Bagan smiled softly as he spoke. Lilia lifted her head, looked at him, and smiled the same way.
In truth, if they hadn’t met Vidion and Lilia before today’s events, if Vidion hadn’t vouched for Bagan’s character, his identity might never have been proven. Their help had certainly been valuable.
But then—
Thump!
A fist suddenly flew into Vidion’s chest. Bagan’s eyes widened in surprise, unable to understand what was happening.
Whether he was truly in pain or simply heartbroken at being hit by his little sister, Vidion clutched his chest.
Bagan was about to wish them a safe journey, but Lilia spoke faster.
Though phrased as a question, the real meaning was clear: she wanted him to come see her. Her face had turned bright red, and it seemed as if steam might rise from her nose and ears at any moment.
What Lilia wanted to hear was a single word.
That was enough. Lilia smiled with satisfaction. It was the purest smile in the world. Seeing her smile made Bagan smile as well.
Thud!
The happy moment was ruined by the tactless Vidion. Lilia’s face turned vicious as she drove her finger straight into his solar plexus. Her sharply honed nail tore through Vidion’s aura and left a scratch near his chest.
The situation itself was so ridiculous that Bagan couldn’t help but burst into laughter. His laughter spread like a contagious disease, making everyone laugh along with him.
Vidion and Lilia nodded and waved goodbye.
“Lady Lilia seems to like you quite a bit.”
It was Gion. Bagan turned to look at him, feeling strangely awkward at the remark.
“Hic… Hiccup!”
Gion was desperately trying to hold back his tears.
It was the sorrowful howl of a wolf who had lost his adorable niece. ‘Well, Lycans are basically wolves.’ Bagan figured it was just the drunken ramblings of a man who was usually quite serious.
Thus, Gion and Bagan reflected on the day’s events as they returned to where they belonged.
Meanwhile, Montihall, having seen off Vidion and Lilia, turned his gaze toward the departing figures of Gion and Bagan.
His final gaze lingered on Bagan, who had become as small as an ant in the distance.
Starting the next day, Bagan went to the guild every single morning. Together with Gion, he met those whose goals aligned with his own.
The party that had naturally risen to second place in Demeca’s adventurer guild after Dractus’s disbandment—Howling Rock. The ninth-ranked party, Iron Fist, now led by the reformed Clorsus. And the sixth-ranked party, Mighty Tail, a group of Lizardmen he had never worked with before but found curiously intriguing.
Crash!
“Hiiik! I didn’t do anything wrong! Please just spare my kids!”
The familiar voice rang out. Once again, the goblin had spotted Bagan, stumbled backward in terror, and fallen flat on his backside.
It was Shib, the goblin Bagan had met at the market before.
Behind him, the other goblins watched their leader with blank stares. They couldn’t understand why Shib was so terrified, but they quietly followed his lead. After all, things usually went smoothly when they did.
The “kids” Shib mentioned seemed to refer to those other goblins.
Bagan’s head throbbed at the incomprehensible words. At that moment, Gion came down from the second floor and began to explain.
But simply calling them “famous” wasn’t enough to explain the current situation to Bagan.
“M-Master Gion~!”
Shib, still crying in fear of Bagan, ran over and clung to Gion. Being so short, he wrapped his arms around Gion’s leg, smearing snot and tears all over it, but Gion didn’t seem to mind.
Though Gion introduced him, the party ranked dead last was usually nothing more than a laughingstock to the others.
Everyone laughed at the remark, but Gion silenced the guild hall and revealed what truly mattered about Shib.
When Bagan expressed his confusion, Gion decided it would be easier to show rather than explain. He turned to the still-sobbing Shib.
Only then did Shib stop crying and look at the two people Gion pointed out. It took him less than three seconds to answer.
Sniffling, he pointed at one adventurer. Gion immediately proved that Shib’s judgment was correct.
Everyone in the guild focused on Gion’s words. Shib continued without pause.
The moment Shib revealed the exact numbers, the entire guild hall erupted in noise.
When Shib violently refused, Gion asked another question.
The instant Shib answered, Gion looked at the two adventurers he had pointed out earlier.
Some people called it a lie. Some nodded in agreement. Others were so shocked they couldn’t close their mouths. Gion thought of how Bagan had defeated Vidion and could only nod with a bitter smile.
But Bagan simply stared at Shib with a calm expression.
Chukran and Shib shook hands. It was the moment their new comrades—those who would join the slave liberation effort—learned of Shib’s ability.
However, Bagan’s mind was racing, turning something over rapidly.
‘There was a trait like that?’
(Wow, so even you don’t know everything?)
‘There was no trait like that among the ones I knew. Which means… perhaps…’
A single possibility flashed through Bagan’s mind.
‘It’s a unique trait.’
Unlike regular traits, unique traits were extremely rare—only one of their kind existed. ‘In all that time playing, I only ever found two unique traits…’
The advantage of unique traits was that they could be used when creating a new character.
Upon discovering this new unique trait, Bagan was struck with horror at one undeniable fact.
‘Damn it!!! I want it! I want to use it so badly!!’
In this reality where the concept of character creation didn’t exist, Bagan could only vent his frustration.