Chapter 29 – Struggles of the Poor (III)

Chapter 29

Struggles of the Poor (III)

Hmm.

Indeed.

This is bullshit!

Spend points on this, then on that–I was promised 50 Creation Points to guide someone, yet, at minimum, I have to spend 10 to get there!

… ah. These are the sore beginnings of a journey, after all; maybe if this guy were an actual Elder with some knowledge, I’d be able to offer the minimum required guidance like a normal person and receive rewards that way.

But I have to depend on the system for something as basic as this.

Hmm. I do have a question, however–if I reconstruct it completely… do I also get that version?

[While the reconstructed art will not count under Host’s creation, Host will have unfettered access to the completed version]

Oh? That’s a bit interesting, at least.

Of course, that wasn’t happening. From what I can recall, ‘Sword Coalescence’ was one of the few arts that did not cost anything to learn. Even servants could grab one of the many transcripts and give their best.

I don’t know how much the art would improve by fixing it, but it misaligns with my goals–hop on the bus that were my disciples. Neither of them needed the art, so I elected for the partial reconstruction, transforming it into quasi-Earth-level art. Not quite there, but almost.

A flood of knowledge gave me a temporary headache, but comparatively speaking, it was… kind of dull? After all, having already experienced something vastly worse with my two creations, this was just a whole heap of nothing.

Shaking my head, I focused back on the kid and saw that he was still practicing. Taking a deep breath, adjusting my straw hat as much as I could to hide my face, I walked over and stopped about ten feet from him, appearing to observe.

The kid noticed me at some point and stopped, first frowning and then hurriedly racing over to bow.

“Greetings, Senior!” Ah, good. He couldn’t recognize me. This will make it much easier.

“Hm,” I grunted back noncommittally. When you’re playing the role of a mysterious stud, deep grunts are everything. I think. “Not bad. You’ve advanced surprisingly far.”

“A-ah! Thank you, Senior! I’ve been practicing for over a year now!” The kid legitimately seemed to beam; then again, disregarding the fact that they were beating the shit out of each other, everyone here was just… a child. At their age, I was playing basketball and hogging my parents’ phone lines to catch a glimpse of–khm, anyway, the point is that even though I got into a few fights, too, it was nowhere near comparable.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“It’s not perfect, however.”

“Please, Senior, offer me your guidance!” He bowed deeply, appearing desperate.

I sighed involuntarily; though I get a glimpse into who they are through the screen, ultimately… I know nothing. All I know is that this kid misses his family–but that’s just the initial shallows of a vast lake.

I fumbled through my robes, pretending to look for something, while tasking the system to print out an aged, partially fixed version of the manual.

“Here,” I took it out and handed it over. “In my youth, I practiced Sword Coalescence too and stumbled upon a few flaws that I managed to fix. It’s still not perfect, but it’s improved. Study carefully; I will visit you occasionally to note your progress.”

“–ah, yes, Senior! Thank you very much!” He grabbed the book with shaky hands and kept his head low.

…

Seconds ticked, and nothing happened; I didn’t move, he didn’t move, and most importantly, the system didn’t move.

Hm?