Chapter 05

"Motohama, dinner is already on the table", - shouted Mr. Sato from the ground floor, next to the stair railing. He was singing softly because he was in a good mood. The goal is to spend time with his son and, if possible, put some sense into his head, that dinner was the perfect opportunity.

He read some magazines yesterday to catch up with modern society and discovered through a psychologist that the secret of a good family relationship is dialogue.

Yes, the secret is dialogue, he repeated the mantra to himself.

His son didn't want to have dinner with him, but Mr. Sato gave him an ultimatum to join the table. He needs to put into practice what he has learned.

As he adjusts the cutlery, he hears the noise coming down the stairs. Realizing that he had forgotten the rice in the kitchen, poor Mr. Sato runs there innocently.

Upon returning.

"Wonderful. Glad you came my son," said Mr.Sato Smiling as he set the pot by the table, before pulling out a seat and, "I was thinking maybe we-we--" But before he could complete the sentence. ..

Mr. Sato stops the speech by looking directly at me.

"..." - I just stand in impassive silence.

"..." - Mr. Sato.

After a few moments of silence.

Mr. Sato remembers his mantra.

Dialogue develops through a climate of goodwill and mutual understanding, where both parties try to understand their differences.

"Er -- Would this be a bucket?"

"Yea."

"At the dinner table?"

"I need to get my fingers wet," I replied stoically as my right hand is dipped in the bucket beside me.

Needless to say, the poor sixty-something old man was beyond confused. Was it normal for the new generation to bring buckets of water to the dinner table? He felt a little out of place with the line of reasoning of modernity.

'Should I get and bring a bucket for me too?' asked Mr. Sato himself internally.

Seeing his confused face of him, I clarify, "I gave up on the drama group and thought I'd join the music group, I'm still figuring myself out. Wet fingers are for me to play string instruments better."

"Oh?" He looks at me in surprise but then has an expression of relief. "I don't know much about music, but are you sure you can't get your fingers wet after dinner?"

"Impossible."

He winces at my firm response.

"A good musician worth his salt doesn't leave his fingers dehydrated. The best of the best are always considerate about it."

"I see," nodded Mister Sato in acknowledgment of the cause, before nodding toward the food and saying, "Let's not let the food get cold. Help yourself."

Eating using only the left hand proved to be a difficult task, but not impossible. Mr. Sato still cast some weird looks in my direction from time to time, but he just chose to continue eating in silence.

"Motohama."

"Huh?" I stop my Hashi with a rice ball midway and look at what he had to say.

"These days a guy came here to the house, who was talking about some weird stuff--Er-- dark magic or something like that. You wouldn't be involved in those things, would you?"

Mr. Sato wasn't a religious person, but he had a bad impression of people doing evil rituals. Not that he believed magic was real, but he knew human cruelty.

"Not at all. Never heard of this guy."

"I see," he said not paying attention to my face but looking at the bucket of water that he could hear a little bubbling.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," I said before retreating from the dining room table.

As I go upstairs and open the bathroom door, I pull my finger out of the bucket and there it is. That same fucking flame.

I've tried everything to turn it off, but the damn thing has been on for more than 24 hours and it didn't show any signs of wanting to turn it off.

After changing the hot water in the bucket, I return to the table with fresh, new water, which would buy me a few minutes more.

"Motohama, I was thinking a little earlier," Mr. Sato seems to struggle with what he was about to say. "Why don't you hang out with your friends for a bit? At first, I'd say the bald boy and the weirdo would be a bad influence on you, but -"

I sit at the table, eyes wide. Through the recalled memories I have of the previous Motohama, I know that Mr. Sato didn't like my old companions. He dreamed that his son would succeed academically and that he would get a girlfriend someday. The poor old man somehow felt before those two were getting in the way of my true potential.

"I know you haven't been communicating with them over the holidays. I don't think isolating yourself is good for your health," Mr. Sato pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and says to me, "Here, take this, 5000 yen for you. Go out with them a little, maybe buy one of those little games you love so much. Eroge, that's their name, isn't it?"

Giving me money and advising me to buy Eroges? That was definitely not Mr. Sato of my memories. Something had happened to him.

Was I even worse in his eyes than the previous Motohama?

Unacceptable, I had to do something about it.

Clearly, I did the most moral thing at the time that any decent human would do and said:

"I will follow your good advice, my dad," I took the 5000 yen bill from his hand and smiled at that paper beauty.

As a good son, I needed to obey my father, that's why I accepted the money reluctantly.

...

Carrying a backpack and a bucket of water for my right index finger, I stroll through the streets of Kuoh. I was very exhausted as I had barely been able to sleep for two days.

The fear of falling asleep and setting my bed on fire, or worse, myself, was too great.

Believe me, with my luck I wouldn't doubt it.

I tried to enter my landscape to erase the formula created, but the problem was --- I didn't know how to do this, since this was an unusual problem and other mages wouldn't have to. After your spells were completed, the formulas would naturally disappear and so there was no solution in the literature I read.

On the bright side, I learned how to successfully cast a spell the normal way, ie using my mana and without pre-made formulas. But I had enough mana for one shot and it took me a long time to cast.

About 30s to cast a simple cooling spell. Damn, I didn't know human magic was so difficult.

I learned this spell in hopes of cooling the bucket from time to time. [Celtic magic for even a stupid to understand] is really a very useful book to read. It contains several spells with elemental characteristics, aimed at the contemplation of mother nature. Most of the spells were druidic in character, but there were some elemental spells of various types.

As I go through another period of walking, I check the street nameplate to see if I'm heading to the right place. Fortunately, the streets were a little busy, as I chose to leave early in the morning and go to the meeting point with my objective for the day.

I needed to solve my little problem, so I decided to seek the help of an expert.

Maybe that was a stupid idea, but I was too exhausted to think straight. My biggest fear was falling asleep involuntarily and ending up pathetically dying to my own spell.

At the end of that same street, a house far from all others I could see. Being large, the best definition would be a mansion, but I couldn't help but frown at that scene.

"By Camelot," I said to myself shaken.

That house seemed to be totally abandoned, the garden poorly maintained, the windows with boards nailed, several holes in the walls and the atmosphere was very dark.

Okay, I'm not that dense. I've watched enough horror movies to know that it's time for me to step out of there.

Forget everything, I won't go into that house even if they pay me.

As I turn to leave, I bump into what appears to be a huge wall.

'Huh? It wasn't here before.' I bring my left hand up to caress it and see that the texture feels like a very fluffy cloth.

When looking up...

I see what made my bones and livers go cold.

A giant dressed in an enormous purple cloak, with a hood and various adornments and necklaces. From the hood, I can't see your face, for it's shrouded in darkness. Only two bright dots that I assumed were his eyes could be seen.

That strange being, not to say hideous, radiated an aura that got on my nerves.

It was like I could feel his hatred toward me and I didn't even know what I had done wrong.

A deep baritone voice sounded, "Were you looking at that house? Say your next words carefully, otherwise..."

"Eh? Ugh," I shiver at the aura he radiates, before trying to catch my breath and say, "Well, I - I did, but I swear --- I didn't mean to offend you."

"You're from the power company, aren't you?" He raises his right hand and I see a blue magic circle forming.

"WHAT? No - No- I'm not," I reply more than hastily, weighing all my options. I didn't know anything about that guy and --- What the hell kind of question was that?

"So --," He seems to ponder briefly, before saying, "You'd be from the water company, I assume."

"No, sir. I apologize if I offended you. I'm just a poor unemployed teenager who has a lifetime left to live. Nice house by the way, but I have to go," I make mention of my strategic retreat.

My strategy was the same as when dealing with dogs, you can't run or turn your back because they will chase you. Just quick, steady steps.

"WAIT."

My body freezes with that disquieting, gravelly voice.

"You can only be - You can only be," His body starts to shake furiously. "You're from the Internet company!!!!!"

Huh? I didn't even have time to react and he screamed.

"PREPARE TO DIE."

Another two magic circles appeared on his palms, a total of three now. The air around us churns and the magical energy is amazingly accumulated. With my heart racing and my body full of adrenaline, time seems to pass slowly for me.

I had to find a solution.

After not finding anything...

"Tsk."

If I were to die I would take that bastard with me. I had an ace up my sleeve and if it worked, I would be sure to kill that weirdo with me.

It was just as I was about to make my move, that something came to mind and I said, "Wait. Hikimage97_human, is that you?"

"Hmm?" That name seems to really impact him and after a few breaths the magic circles disappear and air returns to a brief lull.

Sweat was running down my forehead.

He asks stutteringly, "W-Who are you? And how do you know that name?"

I breathe a sigh of relief and say, "PervXGlasses, or rather PxG, nice to meet you."