The shadows of the capital's high stone walls finally fell behind us as we trekked into the sprawling greenery beyond the city.
The air here was different—crisper, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the plaza we had just fled.
"Sigh... well, I guess if there's a silver lining to that disaster, it's that we now know Mashiro can actually hold her own in a scrap," I muttered, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline.
Ravel didn't let me off that easily.
She whirled around, her eyes flashing with a mix of lingering panic and genuine irritation.
"Why the hell are you picking fights with random strangers over random topics?!" she hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut.
"It was your fault! We're supposed to keep a low profile, and you start a debate with a lynch mob?!"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but no words came out.
She wasn't entirely wrong.
After Mashiro's explosive punch had sent that burly guy into the dirt, a group of royal knights had rounded the corner just in time to almost see the commotion.
If we hadn't made a frantic dash into the alleyways and kept running until our lungs burned, we'd probably be sitting in a damp cell right now instead of a scenic forest.
"Anyway," I said, pivoting the subject as quickly as I could, "today's plan is still the same. We find some monsters, we get some combat data, and we make some money. It's a huge relief that Mashiro has some kind of defensive capability now, even if she's a total novice. We just need to refine her technique over time."
I looked over at Mashiro, who was walking with her usual dazed, ethereal expression, as if she weren't currently a fugitive from the law.
"By the way, Mashiro," I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to reignite Ravel's fuse, "how did you actually manage that? The gauntlet, the power... where did it come from?"
Mashiro blinked slowly, her gaze drifting toward her own palm.
"I just… felt like I could."
Ravel and I stopped dead in our tracks.
We shared a look of pure, unadulterated bafflement.
...Excuse me?
I thought, a cold sweat forming on my brow.
What kind of "chosen one" nonsense is that?
Even the most broken light novel protagonists usually have to swing a wooden sword ten thousand times or go through a training montage to get that kind of power.
She just "felt like it"?
Was this the reality of true, raw talent?
A crushing weight settled in my chest.
If everyone in this world—or even just my own team—was going to sprout god-tier powers by instinct, I was going to be left in the dust before the week was out.
Actually, I was already in the dust, coughing on the fumes of their potential.
I shook my head, refocusing.
"Giratina," I called out to the shadow trailing us.
"Any enemies nearby we can use for practice?"
The shadowy girl didn't even turn her head.
"On the right. Five canine-type entities approaching through the brush."
I felt the shift in the air immediately.
"Alright. Giratina, stand down. Don't help us unless our lives are literally on the line. I want to see what we can do on our own. Ravel, Mashiro—battle stations!"
They didn't hesitate.
Ravel stepped forward, her hands glowing as several spheres of swirling orange flame manifested in the air around her, orbiting like miniature suns.
Mashiro's eyes sharpened, and with a low hum of power, those crimson-red gauntlets shimmered into existence over her hands, pulsing with a rhythmic, draconic light.
I, meanwhile, reached into my inventory and pulled out... my trusty metal pipe.
I looked at the swirling fire magic.
Then, at the glowing dragonic-armoured-gloves.
Then at my dented, grey piece of plumbing.
Something is wrong here, I thought bitterly.
Like, fundamentally wrong.
Talk about a balance patch.
Why am I the only one fighting like a common street thug while they're playing a high-fantasy RPG?
Before I could lament my weapon choices any further, the bushes erupted.
Five dog-like creatures lunged into the clearing.
They were lean and vicious, with matted fur and a singular, jagged horn protruding from the bridge of their snouts.
"Ravel, provide suppressive fire! Mashiro, you're with me on the front line!"
I charged.
I targeted the lead beast, swinging the pipe in a wide, desperate arc aimed at its skull.
The monster was fast—faster than a normal dog—and it ducked under my swing with terrifying grace.
But it dodged right into the path of Mashiro.
She didn't hesitate.
She threw a straight punch, her red gauntlet screaming through the air.
[BOOST]
A strange, mechanical-sounding voice echoed from the gauntlet itself.
I caught the sound out of the corner of my eye but had to turn away as two more horned dogs leapt toward me.
Ravel's fireballs streaked across the sky, one of them catching a leaping dog mid-air and turning it into a yelping fireball.
The second one dodged her blast and came straight for my throat, while the final two swerved toward Mashiro.
"Ravel! Support Mashiro! I've got this one!" I yelled.
The dog was a blur of teeth and fur.
I knew it was faster than me; I knew if I just swung blindly, it would weave around me and rip my jugular out.
I had to play the system.
As the beast lunged, I swung the pipe.
As expected, it twisted in mid-air, preparing to land and spring to my left.
But I wasn't just swinging a pipe.
Inventory... Release.
My system could manifest items within a six-foot radius.
I didn't know the exact limits yet, but six feet was plenty.
I calculated the dodge.
It would go left or right.
So, I dropped a combat knife on both sides of me.
The dog landed exactly where I predicted—on my left.
A silver blade, falling from thin air, buried itself deep into the creature's back.
It let out a pained shriek, its momentum halted.
I didn't give it a second chance.
I brought the metal pipe down on its head with everything I had.
CRACK.
On the other side of the clearing, the battle was already over.
Ravel had gone a bit overboard; the remaining dogs weren't just defeated—they were scorched husks, their fur and flesh reduced to blackened cinders.
"Well... we won," I panted, leaning on my pipe.
I looked at the blackened remains near Ravel.
"But Ravel... why did you incinerate them? How am I supposed to loot anything if the 'merchandise' is just ash and soot?"
Ravel brushed a stray hair from her face, looking slightly sheepish.
"Oh! Sorry. It's been a while since I've had to fight in a group. I was trying to keep the fire contained because we're in a forest, but they sped up so fast I lost my fine control for a second."
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
"It's fine. It was our first real fight as a unit. But Mashiro," I turned to her, her gauntlets fading back into light, "you really need a weapon with more reach. Fighting with just your fists is too dangerous; you'll get bitten before you can land a hit. We need to find you a sword or a spear."
"Okay," Mashiro said simply.
I walked over to the one intact corpse—the one I had killed—and touched it.
System, harvest and convert.
The body vanished into pixels.
Conversion Complete: 7,500 Points.
Not much, I thought.
But they were just low-level mobs.
It's a start.
Curious, I decided to check the shop to see what 7,500 points could actually get me in this new world.
I pulled up the interface, expecting the usual prices.
I nearly had a heart attack on the spot.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
The update had changed everything.
I hadn't looked at the shop since the world-jump, but the inflation was astronomical.
My eyes bugged out as I scrolled.
A top-tier summon like Arceus, which used to be ten billion points, was now listed at one trillion.
The prices hadn't just gone up.
They had been multiplied by a hundred.
Every single item, every potion, every skill—all of it was suddenly out of reach.
7,500 points wasn't a "start"; it was pocket change for a gum wrapper.
A cold sense of desperation began to gnaw at my stomach.
I looked at my points, then back at my team.
If I wanted us to survive, let alone become the "strongest," I needed a massive, immediate injection of capital.
More than monster hunting could ever provide.
I looked at Mashiro.
She was standing there, tilting her head at me as if sensing my sudden panic.
"Umm... Mashiro? Can you help me with something?"
I asked, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears.
"Hm?"
I felt like the absolute scum of the earth for even thinking it.
I was about to become the very "dark adult" I had promised myself I wouldn't be.
But the system was a cruel master, and I was a desperate man.
"Can you... Make me a few drawings? You know, like the one from the plaza? I need something I can sell to earn some money."
There it was.
I had asked.
I felt like trash, but as I looked at the astronomical prices in my shop.
...So this is what it means to be an adult.
..............................................................
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