46 Gifts One After Another

"What's this?" I pondered aloud, my curiosity piqued.

"These men will be your new bodyguards. Consider them your new shadow," Father said shortly after he returned home.

'Bodyguards? New shadow?' I mused, taken aback by Father's statement.

Before me, five men in black suits knelt down, unmoving, resembling a silent terracotta army.

Their faces, height, physique — all of it appeared generic but I had an inkling that they were wearing a second face to conceal their true identities.

'Isn't that a common trope that even the shitty god used in his story?' I thought, observing them closely.

Whenever you encounter individuals with suspiciously average looks in a novel, it usually means they are hiding something behind those masks.

Their jet-black hair blended seamlessly with the crowd, unlike the Agnus family's golden-white hair, which possessed a lustrous, expensive sheen that stood out in any crowd.

The color of their black hair was an unappealing shade of black, as though numerous colors had been mixed together to create an ugly hue.

In a world where a variety of colored hair naturally existed without dye, five men sharing this same generic ugly hue of black was definitely odd and "coincidental".

Just before I could voice my complaints or inquire about this sudden upheaval in my life, Father reassured me, "I understand your concerns, but there's no need to worry. I know you value your privacy, and I won't intrude on your personal affairs. These men aren't spies I'm placing on you to observe your every movement."

"I wasn't thinking that but now that you mention it..."

He opened his palm, revealing a small black orb the size of a marble.

Struck with curiosity, I asked him, "What's this?"

The object was unfamiliar, not matching anything described in the novel I knew so well.

The story featured countless orbs, each uniquely described, fitting perfectly into the fantasy world and this wasn't one of them.

However, despite its unassuming appearance, I figured that this orb in Father's palm must be exceptionally special.

That's the rule of fictional clichés: the more ordinary and simple something appears, the more extraordinary and unique it actually is.

"Swallow it," Father instructed.

"...Uhm... okay?"

Trusting him implicitly, I accepted the orb from his palm and swallowed it without hesitation.

Instantly, I experienced a peculiar sensation, connecting me to the five men in front of me.

It felt akin to the bond I shared with my artifacts, but instead of familial ties, this connection seemed more like that of a master and their devoted servants.

I could see these thin strings that attached me to these men.

I could've mistaken them for spider silk but they were a little more transparent.

"Each of these men... their lives are completely under your control. With the orb you've consumed, you can end any of their lives at will," Father explained.

'Control? Kill?' I was taken aback by this revelation.

"I understand this may seem extreme to you. You might feel uncomfortable knowing their lives are in your hands, but... I simply want you to be safe," Father continued, placing his hand on my shoulder.

As he drew closer, I noticed a lingering trace of anger in his gaze as well as an indication he hadn't slept yet as he must've been spending his time behind the scene dealing with the Goto clan.

"These men... they will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. They will obey your every command, reporting to neither me nor your mother. Their loyalty belongs solely to you," he assured me.

I glanced at the men who were now meant to be my shadow, but instead, they appeared like living puppets, discomfiting me.

'Whatever it takes to ensure my safety? Does that include—'

Anticipating my thoughts, Father added, "You may feel uneasy, knowing they'll watch your every move. That's completely understandable."

'Every move?'

The invasion of my privacy, particularly in the bathroom where my safe haven was — made me want to regurgitate the orb by shoving a few fingers down my throat.

Yet, at the last moment, I refrained from acting on my impulse.

There were numerous things I wanted to express and countless questions I wished to ask. But as I reminded myself of Father's unwavering dedication to protecting his son, I momentarily set aside those thoughts.

'I must try to view this positively,' I resolved inwardly.

So, instead, I inquired, "How powerful are these men?"

"Each one is slightly stronger than Jerman," Father replied.

"And how old are they?"

"Approximately your age."

"Really?" I couldn't help but be surprised.

Considering Jerman's childhood training under Master Omi, I could comprehend the existence of a person this powerful at such a young age, even if the original novel omitted their presence.

But now there were five more?

And they surpassed Jerman in strength?

I could only imagine the rigorous training they endured.

According to Bell's memories, I had no knowledge of their existence.

Intrigued, I asked Father, "Where did they come from?"

With a faint grin, he declined to provide a direct answer. Instead, he said, "When you're older, I'll reveal more about the Agnus family. For now, understand that there is more to us than meets the eye."

Though his response left much to be desired, much like the Facold family's loyalty to the Agnus, I surmised that these men hailed from another bloodline devoted to us.

As I reached out and grasped one of the strings before me, a sense of curiosity filled my mind.

What would happen if I gave it a slight squeeze?

Is it even a tangible thing I could grasp, to begin with?

I needed the answers so I squeezed.

The person to whom the string was attached clutched his heart and began to breathe heavily, but he didn't collapse.

He remained kneeling in place until I finally released the string, and he returned to his normal state.

A thought crossed my mind, 'I really do have complete control over these powerful individuals.'

It made me want to chuckle.

Among all the students at the academy, including myself, there were only a handful of first-year students who likely surpassed their power if what Father told me was correct.

This was in spite of the fact that the academy's reputation in the novel was for housing the most talented and soon-to-be most powerful generation of students.

But I could tell that these five men didn't possess the same level of talent as even a Second Class student.

I had no doubt in my mind that, similar to Jerman, who was more powerful than me despite being the same age, their early development was a result of intensive training that caused their growth to plateau sooner. It was like pushing oneself to the limit at the expense of reaching one's full potential if trained in a more balanced manner.

"Thank you, Father," I said as I gave him a hug to which he laid his head on my shoulder, just relieved that I was alive.

My father wasn't the only one who provided me with something for self-improvement.

Just before dinner, I wondered where my mother was, only to have her return home with an elixir in her hand.

Although I couldn't recognize its contents, I decided to drink it at her command despite my confusion.

I watched as my mother let out a small sigh of relief, knowing that every drop of the elixir had entered my system.

"What did you make me drink?" I inquired, curious about its nature.

She hugged me tightly before whispering directly into my ear, "It doesn't have a name yet."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean... it doesn't have a name yet?"

"There's someone who owed me a favor, and in return, they concocted this elixir to enhance your growth speed just a little," she explained.

"Who?" I pressed for more information.

"That's not important. What matters is that you'll become stronger faster, more agile faster. Your mana capacity, reaction speed, and overall health will improve, albeit by a small margin."

My eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. It sounded like something straight out of the later volumes of a novel, not overpowering enough to completely tip the balance in my favor, but certainly providing substantial assistance.

"Sorry, I couldn't get one that could boost your growth a lot more," she apologized.

"No, that's alright. Thank you, Mom, for the elixir."

She gave me a kiss on the forehead before finally letting me go.

"How much improvement can I expect?" I asked, eager to know more about this elixir I had no idea existed in this novel world.

She shrugged, saying, "I don't know the specifics, but you should start noticing the effects in a few months. At least, that's what the person who made it told me."

Following my mother's gift, it was Cyro's turn to present me with something.

After dinner, when the family time was usually expected, my parents had to attend to some business, leaving me alone in the living room with Cyro and Rubi, who was engrossed in a game on her tablet.

It was then that Cyro handed me a phone number.

I accepted it but curious, I asked, "Whose number is this?" as I didn't recognize it.

"It belongs to one of my close friends," he replied.

Surprised by the notion of Cyro having friends, I joked, "You have friends?"

Playfully, he stabbed me in the stomach with his index finger.

"Haha, very funny," he retorted. "His name is Quentin Atwood. He's a decade older than me, so if you choose to call the number, treat him with respect."

I looked at the new contact on my phone, then back at Cyro, and inquired further, "And... why should I call him?"

Cyro opened his mouth to speak before closing it shortly after.

"Do you want the brutally honest answer or the older brother's answer?" he asked, giving me options.

After a brief moment of contemplation, I responded, "Could I hear the older brother's answer first?"

With a gentle grin, he obliged, "When I watched the video of your fight from last night, it was evident to me that you needed some assistance with combat. Quentin is one of the best teachers I know. I recommend you call him to teach you a few things here and there."

'That makes sense.'

"Okay... and now the brutally honest answer?" I prodded, sensing a shift in his expression.

His grin became less gentle and more mischievous as he delivered his critique.

"Your form was abysmal. You made countless mistakes, and you appeared amateurish. If it weren't for Jerman covering for your errors, you would have been in grave danger multiple times."

"What?" I interjected, unable to fully process his critique.

"You're fortunate that the attackers were weak. The Goto clan is nothing compared to the other families hostile to the Agnus family and the Asano clan. Despite possessing all those artifacts and codes you clearly own with all those goddamn elemental spells you spammed out, you couldn't handle them all before the police arrived. It's disappointing honestly. All this talent, yet lacking in the fundamentals. Your foundation seems as though it could crumble at any moment."

With each word he spoke, it felt like a shotgun blast to the face, and his expression shifted from mischievous to that of irritation, as if scolding a child.

"Are you finished?" I asked, my voice laden with a mix of disappointment and exasperation.

A smile returned to his face, and he asked, "How was the honesty? Did you appreciate it?" as if he hadn't just roasted the living hell out of me.

He threw his arm around my shoulder trying to act all friendly, but I pushed it away.

"Ouch," he feigned pain, clutching his heart theatrically.

"I should have stuck with the older brother's answer. I shouldn't have asked for both," I sighed, regretting my decision.

Rubi climbed onto the couch and wrapped her arms around me, offering comforting support as if she sensed my need for solace.

"Rubi, can you tell big brother that you don't like him?" I asked her, seeking a playful distraction.

Without hesitation, she turned to Cyro and proclaimed, "I hate you," sticking her tongue out in jest, before returning to hugging me.

"Ouch," Cyro feigned injury once more, this time dramatically collapsing to the floor, pretending to be dead.