Matsu stormed through Flower Town's crooked alleys, kicking up dust with every angry step.
"Stupid Caesar... always running off," he muttered under his breath. "How far could that lazy animal have gone?!"
If I lose him, Grandpa's going to kill me.
He whipped around a sharp corner—
THUNK.
Matsu hit the ground face-first and skidded several feet, letting out a strangled yelp as dirt filled his mouth.
He pushed himself up, spitting grit, and glared behind him.
The culprit was a plain terracotta flowerpot, tipped slightly on its side. A single purple tulip swayed gently in the breeze, as if mocking him.
Matsu groaned.
"Stupid plant."
He stood, dusted off his knees... and kicked the flowerpot.
Thunk.
Again.
Thunk.
And again.
THUNK.
Then—
"OW! THAT HURTS!"
A fist burst straight out of the dirt and slammed into Matsu's cheek, sending him sprawling backward.
Dazed, he stared upward as a tall, dark-skinned, curvy woman rose from the earth itself like some blooming nightmare. A chipped flowerpot sat balanced on her head, colorful petals sprouting from it like a crown. Between her lips drooped a violet flower that puffed smoke like a cigarette.
Matsu rubbed his jaw.
"Who the hell are you?!"
The woman narrowed her eyes and exhaled a stream of floral smoke.
"Don't tell me..." Matsu whispered, horrified. "You're... a pervert—"
BONK!
Another punch cracked him on the forehead.
"Like hell I am," she growled.
Then she cleared her throat and instantly switched to a bright, cheerful smile.
"I'm Geum Ferdinand!" she beamed, hands on her hips. "Mayor of Flower Town. Pleasure to meet ya!"
Matsu blinked twice.
"Wait... you're the mayor?"
"Yep!"
"And you were underground doing what?"
"Inspecting!"
...Yeah. Definitely a pervert.
"You're just another crazy old person like my grandpa," Matsu muttered.
Geum's eyes narrowed. The flower in her mouth drooped slightly.
She stepped forward and studied him from head to toe—the dust, the bruises, the tired eyes... and the old wooden shovel slung over his back.
Her expression changed.
"...Don't tell me," she said slowly. "You're Salatin's grandkid."
Matsu raised an eyebrow. "What if I am?"
Geum's face lit up instantly.
"Ooh? That explains everything."
She spun on her heel.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"To town hall. During my inspection, I saw you steal from a vendor. That's a crime."
"Wait—I didn't steal anything!"
Ignoring him completely, Geum strode down a side path.
Matsu hesitated, then followed with a groan.
"What is it with this town..."
They walked through the streets while Matsu kept scanning every corner for Caesar.
As he followed Geum, he noticed the way people reacted to her. They smiled when they saw her. Their shoulders relaxed. Conversations brightened. Even the air around her felt safer somehow.
Matsu watched quietly.
He hoped that one day he could make people back home feel that way too.
They passed beneath a stone archway and stopped before a modest building tucked between taller shops. It wasn't grand or flashy—just two stories of clean brick and trimmed wood, with an iron bell hanging from a crossbeam and a flower-shaped emblem carved above the door.
Geum pushed it open.
Inside, the room was neat and practical. Smooth stone floors, exposed wooden beams, shelves lined with ledgers and maps. A row of chairs sat beneath a bulletin board cluttered with notices and announcements. The place smelled faintly of ink... and flowers.
Matsu looked around, impressed.
"Huh. You really are the mayor."
"Told you," Geum said, stepping behind a worn but polished desk.
She lowered herself into the chair, removed the flower stem from her mouth, and set it neatly onto a little dish as if it were routine.
"So," she said, settling back. "How's that old bastard doing?"
"He's fine. Grumpy as always."
Geum smiled fondly.
"That does sound like the idiot I know."
Matsu tilted his head.
"You know him well?"
Geum leaned back and folded her arms behind her head.
"Yeah. We go way back. Always butting heads. When we were young, we used to fight over Aspen."
Matsu froze.
"Wait, wait—hold on." He raised a hand. "You're telling me... you and Grandpa were childhood friends?"
Geum arched a brow.
"There's no way!" Matsu stepped back, staring at her in disbelief. "You're the same age as him?! You look way too young!"
She crossed the room in two strides and pinched his cheek hard.
"Ooh~ Is that a compliment? What a cute kid."
"H-Hey—!" Matsu flailed, face burning red. "I'm not a kid!"
Geum laughed and released him, the flower behind her ear bobbing as she stepped away.
"I thought I could win Aspen over with ambition," she said. "I wanted to reach Level 3. Thought that would impress her."
She smiled wistfully.
"But I guess Salatin's brute strength charmed her more than my plans ever did."
"Huh? You wanted to go to Level 3?"
Geum nodded.
"That was my dream. But in the end... I was too weak to go."
Her voice softened.
"I even asked Salatin to come with me. But he never changed his answer. Said his place was here—with the soil. With Aspen."
Matsu lowered his eyes, then smiled quietly.
"I want to be a real farmer too," he said. "I think that's my purpose."
Geum studied him for a long moment. Then she smiled.
"Hah. I should've known. Dreams really can be inherited."
She looked toward the sunlight pouring through the window.
"I've got a grandson too. Runs a workshop up in Level 3."
She gave a short laugh.
"Some things never change."
Then her gaze drifted to the wooden shovel on Matsu's back.
Her tone shifted.
She stood slowly.
"Have you ever heard of Artifacts, boy?"
Matsu shook his head.
"I heard Grandpa talk about them... but I thought they were myths."
Geum whistled low and walked back to her desk. She picked up a teacup somehow growing moss inside it, blew the rim clean, and sat again.
"Artifacts hold the powers of the world," she said. "Each one is unique. Each carries its own ability."
Matsu swallowed hard.
That spear.
That impossible spear.
"The knight who attacked our village," he said quietly. "He had one. His spear stretched like a whip... moved like a snake."
Geum nodded grimly.
"Then it was an Artifact. No doubt."
She picked up the flower again and drew on it, smoke curling into the still room.
"That's why the government banned collecting them. Supposedly to keep them under control."
Matsu frowned. "Banned?"
"If you find one, you're required to turn it in," Geum said. "They compensate you. Sometimes generously. But once you hand it over, it's gone."
She looked him in the eye.
"They decide who gets power. Who is 'qualified.' Who is allowed to wield it."
Matsu's eyes lit up.
"Wait... money? Like real money?"
Geum blinked.
"I mean," Matsu said, grinning, "if I found one of those things, I could buy actual meat. Pastries. Maybe a pie that doesn't taste like turnips—"
Geum sighed deeply.
Then she stood and pointed directly at the shovel on his back.
Matsu blinked.
"Huh?"
He turned slowly, staring at the worn wooden handle over his shoulder.
Then his eyes nearly bulged from his skull.
"HUH?! THIS is an Artifact?!"
Geum stepped closer and brushed dirt from the handle.
Beneath the grime, faint carvings shimmered—spiraling symbols etched so cleanly they looked grown into the wood itself.
"It appears to be the Shovel Artifact," she said calmly. "How did you not notice? These markings... this thing breathes power."
"Of course I didn't notice!" Matsu shouted, stumbling back. "I thought it was just some old shovel!"
"It seems you haven't awakened it yet," Geum said, still studying it. "But don't worry. It will happen... in time. Usually when it matters most."
Matsu folded his arms.
"What makes you think I'm keeping it?"
Geum raised a brow.
"This sounds like nothing but trouble," he continued. "I don't need some grand weapon ruining my life. I want a quiet life on the farm. That's enough for me."
Geum looked at him for a long moment.
Then she smiled faintly—not at Matsu, but at an old memory.
He really is your grandchild, Salatin...