Durin's Diary

Circling a patch of frozen puddle, Watson exhaled a white breath, finding the cusp of autumn and winter in Lublin as cold as during the twelve years he had already witnessed.

Having regained a youthful body twelve years ago, he had long since grown accustomed to living as one of the Different Races. Now, Watson was a Grassland Elf, a little darling with silver curly hair and blue eyes, delicate arms, and slender legs—typically standing at 1.4 meters tall or shorter.

Although such adorable appearances and a small stature were not entirely convenient in daily life, for instance, when something was out of reach and a chair was needed to step on.

But Watson had nothing to complain about—after all, being able to live another life was something not even the most powerful, influential, or wealthy of his previous life could achieve.

They pleaded with fate, but fate granted humanity its ultimate equality—death.

Following the cobblestone streets into the town, Watson arrived at the designated meeting place. With each breath he took, white mist escaped into the air, the Lublin Region at the end of autumn and beginning of winter was never a place one could feel cozy.

Standing at the edge of the street, observing the ancient buildings piled up into a town, with ivy scaling many of their exteriors, their seasonal colors vivid and vibrant, while the busy bustle of the town followed the day after the Harvest Festival, with street vendors manned by shopkeepers of Different Races.

The Criten, with various horns, smiled and doffed their hats upon seeing him, "Mr. Ailish, good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," Watson, without a hat to doff, still responded with a smile.

The Criten, humans with different horns, were once persecuted in the Human World because of their horns.

In truth, their physical abilities far surpassed those of conventional humans, but they rarely possessed the Talent for magic and also could not take part in the Path, so they were essentially a powerful Mortal race. They now mostly live in the southern part of the Human World and in the Eastern Elven Territory, for these places lacked the prejudice found elsewhere, allowing them to sell their strength or to trade with their intelligence, without suffering the exploitation common in other places.

There were also various kinds of cats—these Cat People belonged to what was commonly referred to as the Xiate Orcish Kind. Upon seeing Watson arrive, a black and white leopard lady greeted him, "Master, good afternoon. I just saw Miss Aye from the Aye Family over by the big tree."

"I'm aware, how's business, madam?" Watson inquired.

"Thanks to the grace of the Duke, sir," replied the lady with a carefree laugh.

Of course, these good days also saw the company of humans, Dwarf, and grassland spirit merchants.

It was a world and an age filled with marvels, as well as life.

Watson had come to deeply understand this since his arrival here.

Look, this world had humans, Elves, Dwarfs, and Orcish Kind, and even races that had only ever appeared in storybooks in Watson's former world were now vividly alive before him.

With this thought, Watson, going to his appointment, pulled out a pocket watch from his chest pocket—a birthday gift from his grandfather—that he said was a precise timepiece made by a Great Craftsman among the Grassland Elves. Fueled by Arcane Energy, recharged weekly, it could keep running until it succumbed to mechanical failure one day.

Honestly, this thing was punctual, just like the girl he was walking toward.

She was a girl with long silver hair that hung down to her waist, secured at the bottom with a small cloth bag.

The owner of golden eyes donned a grey, thick fur-trimmed dress and approached Watson with a basket in hand, taking small steps, "I spotted you from afar. Are you hungry?"

This was Antanya Aye. Watson could call her Anta, a nickname, as she awaited a standard response with a smile.

Watson nodded, "I am hungry. I've been saving myself for the meat pies you made, didn't eat this morning."

It was noon, and Watson's stomach was crying out, twitching, and rolling, but for that bite of delicious pie, it bore the hardship silently, just like its master.

This obviously delighted the young lady, who quickly opened her basket, "You're still the same as before. What's so good about my meat pies?"

Watson smiled, "Because they're made by you."

The simple phrase, combining "you made" and "meat pies," made the girl in front of him blush, a bit embarrassed, but also interrupted Watson by stopping his reaching hand with her own, "Don't rush, let's buy some honey water first."

Anta promptly found a stall manned by a Halflings gentleman with a waist four feet around, famous in town for his pancakes.

Since honey water was a self-serve item after paying, Anta handed a cup to Watson and then got one for herself.

Arriving under the shade of a huge oak tree in the center of the square, Watson and Anta found a stone bench to sit down together.

She opened the lid of the basket, and Durin reached in to grab one and then happily bit into it.

The meat pie was primarily made with Salar beast meat, with the addition of the Grassland Elves' favorite shredded meat and honey. To Durin, in his previous life, this kind of thing was scientifically called a meat-filled pie, colloquially famed as a "Calorie Effect Amplifier," and even more plainly referred to as an "Automatic Fattening Machine."

However, the high brain efficiency of Grassland Elves combined with their small stomachs and quick hunger, requiring them to eat four or even five meals a day to fully support their brains and organs. Their bodies possessed an efficiency in fat conversion that humans found difficult to comprehend; it was common for them to gain or lose three to five pounds in a single day.

Therefore, high-calorie foods like sugar and honey were favorites of the Grassland Elves—once converted into fat, they could fuel the body even when hungry, working rather like a fuel.

And it seemed Grassland Elves didn't have issues with diabetes—at least, Durin had never seen an elf with such a disease in all these years.

Being born into the right body really is a skill, right?

"Durin, you're amazing, what an appetite!"

Anta chewed her pie slowly while watching Durin gulp down two meat pies. She looked at the pie in her hand, with only one corner left, and sighed in admiration.

"You're amazing too. Even though you're a Sixth Ring Mage, you have an excellent talent for cooking," Durin praised the girl in front of him as he sipped honey water.

Anta smiled happily, looking very pleased with Durin's comment.

"So, where shall we go now?" Durin pulled out his pocket watch to check the time; there were exactly four hours and forty-one minutes left until 5:17 p.m., when night fell. With a long stretch of time ahead, no short videos, no mobile games, and no various virtual entertainments existed, and the greatest fun for children was a tough world with 'look at the mountain, run dead'. Finding an elegant and popular form of entertainment was truly difficult.

"Did you forget? I told you yesterday that a group that screens movies from the Human World has come here. The movie they showed yesterday was said to be very interesting, and it takes only two silver dimes from the Eastern Territories to buy a ticket," Anta excitedly said, taking out two tickets from her pocket, "Look, I'm already prepared."

Durin gasped—truth be told, it had been a long time since he'd heard the word "movie." In his previous life, Durin's biggest regret was that he never had the chance to become a movie director. After coming to this world, given the cultural differences and historical background, he'd long given up the idea of making films.

But now, his best ally and the girl who was very likely to be with him for life suddenly invited him to watch a movie. How did that saying go?

Ah, right.

I have a cute girl by my side, and I'm about to watch a movie with her. Two happy events brought double the joy, filling me with boundless delight.

"What do you think, Durin?" Anta was waiting for Durin's answer.

Durin stood up and extended his hand to her, making a gesture befitting of a gentleman's invitation.

No words were needed because an action alone can be an answer.

The young girl smiled happily, reaching out her hand and then with mutual effort, stood up.

"Let's go," she said with a smile, latching onto his arm.

"By the way, did you read the book I recommended to you last time?" inquired the young girl, her eyes filled with curiosity and interrogation.

"Of course, I have it memorized," Durin declared.

"I don't believe you," her eyes twinkled with light and disbelief.

Upon this, Durin sighed, "Watson, you've found the loophole."

The books were authored by me, and I sent the manuscripts to the royal library of the Northern Kingdom. The royalties bought you the silver hairpin in the style of the Eastern Land, which is now pinned in your hair.

I say I know it by heart, why don't you believe me?

The girl clutching Durin's arm gasped, "So you really did read it."

"I told you I'd read it, and you didn't believe me," Durin chided, playfully flicking the girl's nose.

Amidst their laughter, Durin caught sight of a mobile movie theater made of massive tents.

"We've arrived," the girl at his side said with a smile as she introduced it.

Yes, we've arrived.