Prota was sound asleep not an hour after the meal. John wasn’t surprised. The battle with Hart must’ve been intense. He himself had no such fatigue, and so he was sitting outside on a bench, looking up at the stars. They were different from those on Earth, but that didn’t matter. They were just nice to look at.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, taking in a deep breath of the night spring air. It was cool, pleasantly so, the smell of budding flowers and freshly growing grass infusing with the air. It felt as if the weight of the meal was being pushed out of his body. The swishing of branches and the occasional call of a bird broke the silent scenery. A gentle breeze floated across John as he let his mind go blank, something he excelled at.

“Hey. So, what’s next?”

John’s eyes snapped open. “This would’ve been a lot nicer without your dumbass showing up. You can’t let me enjoy this?”

“Yeah, well, you should start thinking,” Zero said. “Prota’s birthday. Did you have something in mind?”

John hesitantly pulled out Prota’s old cloak and staff. “Well, I was thinking of getting her something better than this rag and stick. They’re nice, but if we go to Scholaris, she probably needs better gear, right? Hell, there’re entire series dedicated to being overgeared.”

“I mean… have you looked at yourself?”

“The gun counts as being overgeared.”

John stared at the cloak. He wasn’t sure why he was lingering on it for so long. He already knew what he wanted. He would get her something good. Something nicer. A set of gear better than something he’d just happened to have on hand. He closed his eyes and thought back to that rainy day so long ago. What a joke. Her first meal had been jerky and water, her first bit of clothing, this shitty cloak. It offered very little. It was a wonder it’d survived this long.

“You know, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

“...what?”

“That cloak. Are you sure you’re gonna throw it out?”

“I mean, look at how patched up it is. Surely she’d want something better, no?”

Zero just stared. John frowned. He vaguely remembered how long it’d taken her to give it back to him. What, did she want it or something?

“John. It might not be a lot, but you gave it to her. It’s not the item that matters. It’s what it means to her. Surely you understand that much, right?”

John scoffed. “How am I gonna fix this in a week?”

“But you get it?”

“”Well, yeah. I… damn. I’m kinda stupid.”

“That’s agiven.”

“Shut up. I don’t need to hear it from you.”

“But I’m glad you understand.”

John closed his eyes as his brain went into overdrive, trying to figure something out. It was just so hard. He was pleasantly stuffed, tired, and the night was so calm…

“Ah, so you were out here.”

John slowly opened his eyes to see Haze, standing over him with a neutral expression on her face. It was different from Prota’s. While Prota seemed blank, sometimes even sleepy, Haze’s face was clearly a mask, a filter to hide her thoughts and emotions. A rigid, stiff expression that hid her intentions. While Prota’s looks were born of circumstance, this look was one born of training.

“Ah. The meal was really good. You wouldn’t have a recipe for that stew, by any chance…?”

“That is a family secret,” Haze said, a small smile escaping through her lips. “I’m afraid not.”

“Damn. Unlucky.”

She sat on the other end of the bench, smoothing out her black dress. John looked at her, bored. Objectively, she was very beautiful. Despite likely being middle aged, she looked youthful, likely a trait of an elf. John had no idea of the specifics of races in this world, but elves being long lived and youthful wasn’t uncommon. Her figure was well kept, likely a side effect of her profession, but there was a certain grace and elegance to her that amplified her beauty as well.

Despite all that, John couldn’t look at her in the way others would have. There wasn’t a single hint of lust in his gaze. After all, this wasn’t a “woman” in his eyes. She was a [Character]. John had long since lost the ability to find someone attractive in a romantic sense. It was very possible for him to judge something like looks based on qualitative traits, but for him to be attracted to it was simply impossible. Personal preferences when it came to women, or men, for that matter, were nonexistent. He wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse.

“Strange,” Haze said suddenly. “I’ve had many suitors over the years, even after I married, and yet no man has ever looked at me the way you do.”

“Uh… my bad?”

“No. It is simply interesting,” Haze said, shaking her head. “It is almost as if you are judging me as if I were an object, rather than as a person.”

John shrugged. “Yeah. Uh… sorry? Also, the way you word that is a little…”

Haze laughed quietly. “You would not pursue me?”

“You’re married,” John frowned. “That’s kinda fucked up.”

“It hasn’t stopped others.”

“Yeah, well, other people are fucked up,” John shrugged. “Also, you’re Destiny’s mom. That’s a little…”

“You are an adult, are you not? And you really are as crude as Destiny said you were.”

Haze closed her eyes and smiled. John frowned. He wasn’t necessarily confused, but he wasn’t fond of having to go through with this. It wasn’t that he disliked this kind of [Character]. Rather, he quite enjoyed them.

He just didn’t like having to deal with them himself.

“I see. How interesting. ”

“...what, were you testing me? If I wanted to fuck you, were you gonna kill me or something?”

John flinched momentarily as Haze let out a sharp killing aura. “Essentially, yes. But this is much more than you might think. I believe myself to be quite a good judge of character. It comes with my profession. Much can be determined by a singular glance. Your glance says a lot, young man.”

“Thanks. Do you, uh, normally go about seeing if people are attracted to you? That’s kinda-”

“No. It was simply that you were unique in your gaze,” Haze said, her smile widening a bit.

She stood up and extended a hand to John, who hesitantly took it.

“Come with me.”

“...what?”

Without another word, she dragged John along. Her grip was quite firm, so John didn’t really have a choice, and he was eventually led to a dim, open field. He was already starting to understand what was going on here.

“Hey. Hey, did Destiny not tell you that I can’t fight?”

“That is not true,” Haze said, excitement growing in her eyes. Her face remained neutral, but it was clear that she was looking forward to what was coming next. “I told you. I can tell. You’re a fighter, aren’t you? One much more experienced than my son.”

“I don’t have mana! What do you want me to do?”

The calm evening was quickly turning into a stressful one. Now that John thought about it, she seemed familiar, as if he’d met her somewhere else. But where? This aura… Oh. Oh, fuck. The king’s room. She’d seen through him already, right? He’d displayed way more skill than he’d meant to.

“Hm… one. I will grant one request of yours if you can land one hit on me. To balance things, I will restrict my usage of mana. Surely you will feel more confidant with this restriction.”

“...one hit? And one request?”

“That is correct. Do not get ahead of yourself,” Haze warned. “No matter how experienced you are, I am your elder. You cannot possibly have been in more fights than me, even if you have been fighting your whole life, which would be difficult given your circumstances.”

John slowly began to smile. He’d been worried about Prota’s present, but wasn’t this a perfect opportunity? He couldn’t repair the cloak himself, but there was someone who definitely could. John wasn’t sure if there was a magic tailor or something, but… no, scratch the blacksmith. Surely there was someone in the kingdom who could help him, right?

Wait. This was a lot more dangerous than he’d initially thought. She could find something suspicious with John. She was a lot more insightful than anyone he’d met was. Was he really considering something like Prota’s gift now?

…yeah, why not?

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

“Very good.”

“Um, about the whole request thing. Do you guys have contacts with, like, some kind of magic clothing maker? Something like a blacksmith for cloaks and staves and stuff?”

“Of course. We have some of the best magical engineers in the kingdom.”

“Great. That’s all I needed to know.”

John shook his wrists as he stared at the woman in front of him. She stood in a calm, relaxed posture, the wind causing her dress to sway from side to side in a hypnotic pattern. Despite her calm demeanour, John could tell she was ready. Her level of combat was a cut above anything he’d experienced since coming to this world. Well, maybe Albert… no, that wasn’t possible.

Destiny’s mother was a different level of skilled.

John shook his arms and settled into a relaxed posture. It seemed like poor technique, and it was, but it was what he was used to. His style was an amalgamation of everything he’d learned over billions of deaths. There was no need to think too deeply about it. He just needed to act.

The problem was, there was no act to be had.

It was hard to decide how he wanted to start the fight. Haze’s dress made it hard to see how her muscles were moving, which was often helpful in a fight. If John made a move, he wouldn’t be able to see how she’d react. That slight indicator of which direction Haze would move was disguised by what seemed to be a poor outfit for fighting.

“I was right. You are experienced. Scarily so. Where did you learn to read someone’s form the way you do?”

“It’s just something I picked up,” John shrugged.

He cursed to himself. As much as he’d been analyzing her, she’d also been analyzing him. The people he’d run into so far were strong, but they weren’t near Haze’s level. Well, there was Doctor, but that was a whole different story.

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He started walking forward calmly, taking strides as if walking down the street. Soon, he was almost an arm’s reach from Haze. He stopped and stared, standing a head above the elvish woman. Without warning, he struck first, his right foot rising up from the ground, but Haze was faster. She caught his leg and did something, leaving John’s feet in the air and head in the dust.

“...damn.”

“Will you give up?”

“Fuck, no,” John grunted, spitting out dirt. He got back up, dusting himself off. “I need that favour.”

John pushed himself back up and dusted himself up, eyeing Haze a bit more suspiciously this time. He tried a feint, but there was nothing. No reaction. A larger feint, one on the verge of attacking, but again, no reaction.

“Attack. Do not play games.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

John took a deep breath and raised his fists, getting into a stance. He threw a jab that was easily blocked, but that was expected. It was followed up by a sharper, heavier blow that was dodged, but he used the momentum to continue forward, stepping heavily with his right foot and bouncing back, spinning in the air to deliver a kick. This was dodged with a simple duck, and John was once again on the floor.

“No fair,” John complained. “Your physique is just way better than mine.”

“And the fault of that belongs to who?”

John grumbled and got back up. He tried again. And again. And again. But no matter what he did, the result was the same. He kept getting knocked down. John was starting to rethink his attitude toward formal training, but even if he were the best fighter in the world, there was nothing he could do to overcome Haze’s physique.

“...you are good. But untrained. Unprofessional. And you are limited by your physique,” Haze mused. “Hm… to think we were worried about you. Perhaps you are not as much of a threat as we thought.”

“A threat? Me?”

“Well, if you cannot win against me, then what could you possibly hope to accomplish?”

“Ah, shut up,” John muttered as he got up again. He was bruised all over, but his low levels of [Determination] were doing good work. The power up he’d gotten was coming in handy, at least for this.

Haze simply nodded and took her stance once more. However, John was past trying to get through this honestly. He was going to cheat.

“Power: x10.”

The power multiplier provided by [Infinity] was not literal. A multiplier of ten didn’t mean that he was ten times as strong. But he was still better than he was before. Now that he could use some of his abilities without the annoying penalty, this was perfect. All he had to do was make sure that his powers wouldn’t be noticed.

“Are you sure about this? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. I’ve heard you weren’t all sane, but this is pushing it just a little.”

“Yeah, I’m crazy. They locked me in a room. What about it?”

John rushed in carelessly, but Haze’s eyes widened as she stepped back. Something felt different. He was a little faster. A little stronger. And a little more reckless.

“Were you holding back? Come, that cannot be wise? Why hold back?”

“Hold back? Why would I hold back?”

“You tell me.”

“I sure as hell wasn’t holding back. You think I’m a masochist or something?”

John’s fist reached its target, but instead of blocking as she usually did, Haze dodged. However, a multiplier of ten was simply not enough to overpower her. She was simply being cautious. She was still faster, still stronger, even without mana. It had never been John’s intent to overpower his opponent, though.

John was about to pull mild amounts of bullshittery.

Any physical body obeys the laws of physics. Within those laws is something called inertia. If something is in motion, it will continue to be in motion until opposed. In the case of something like a punch, if someone throws a powerful blow, the action of slowing down, changing trajectory or stopping it altogether is near impossible without using large amounts of strength and control, something that is not easily hidden.

It is because of this that “tells” exist, indicators that allow people to dodge and block. People train themselves to throw feints, to read the fight, to direct it in the way they want, but all of these things rely on bodies following a certain set of rules. Even those with near godlike reaction times don’t consciously think of what their opponent is doing; they react based on instinct, based on what they know to be true.

However, [Infinity] is not an ability that amplifies physical strength. It is a [Deus Ex Machina] ability, something that defies the laws of everything. And so John does not need to obey the laws of physics.

He does not need to obey any laws at all.

He’d complained about this more than once, but at this moment, being above all rules was certainly coming in handy. And while this was technically a wise usage of his ability, in reality, it was just an asspull to let him win.

But that was fine. He didn’t care if it was an asspull. He just wanted to win.

“You’ve improved, You are stronger, but that isn’t enough to-” Haze started, but stopped as her perception of time slowed down.

She’d just dodged a blow and was bringing her head back to counter attack, but somehow, she’d mistimed John’s blow. No. Impossible. John’s body had showed no signs of pulling back or slowing down. Besides that, the timing was only slightly off. It was as if there’d been some kind of lag, or a difference between when she’d seen him punch and when he’d actually thrown the punch at.

How had she mistimed it? Someone like her, someone as skilled as her, making a mistake like this? She couldn’t tell what had happened, but she knew that she’d lost. John’s fist made contact with her face, and while it wasn’t painful, it hurt in a different kind of way.

“I won, then, right?” John panted, sweat pouring down his face as he collapsed. He felt good. Really good. It didn’t matter that he’d cheated.

He’d won.

The “cheat” wasn’t much, but it’d been important. If [Infinity] ignored the laws of physics, what would happen if John were to change power multipliers mid fight? His body would look the same. But even if he threw a punch with all his might, the speed of said punch could be altered while the fist was still travelling through the air. There would be no indicator of a power up, no sign that he was moving any faster or slower, but he would be moving at a different speed nonetheless.

Fights typically have a sort of tempo to them, a rhythm that allows a fight to be called a dance of sorts. Especially at higher levels of skill, there is a sort of pattern that fighters settle into, a speed that they familiarize themselves with. It’s nearly impossible to fight at a completely random tempo, changing speed and power levels so suddenly. It’s just not practical. To do so would require a tremendous amount of conscious thought, which would slow down your reaction time to the point where you’d be guaranteed to lose.

John bypassed all of this. He could change his [Infinity] multiplier with ease. He could fight at a completely erratic pattern that would throw any experienced fighter off. An untrained person who fought without considering any form of timing would be unaffected, but someone like Haze, who subconsciously relied on such timings, would be thrown off.

It wasn’t his first time using this technique. In fact, he was quite familiar with it, not that he’d ever expected to use it again. But it was one of the only things he had going for him. The opponents from here on out would only be more powerful. More skilled. And the element of surprise wouldn’t be enough. If the [Author] was giving him some breathing space when it came to using [Infinity], that meant the [Author] expected him to fight.

If that were the case, John would need every bit of power he could get.

He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Sweat poured down his face as his body pushed itself to keep up, but he’d done it. Haze looked at him with an expression of both disgust and surprise.

“I don’t know how you did it… but very well. A deal is a deal.”

Haze turned around, completely uninjured, and walked off as if she’d never fought. Well, that was to be expected. She was, and always would be, the better fighter. She would’ve been ready for John’s trick if they had gone again. She might not get used to it immediately, but John was moving so slowly that it was something she could adapt to. Had he been any stronger, it would’ve been a problem, but only regarding the one hit deal. It wasn’t like he’d win in a true fight, even with luck.

But like she’d said, a deal was a deal.

“Tomorrow, come find me. And, if I may ask. What do you desire from this?”

“...well, I’m trying to get this gift ready. There’s this cloak, and it ripped recently to the point where I can’t repair it myself,” John said, embarrassed. “So… I thought I’d fix it up a little better than before.”

Haze turned away, hiding a smile. She had made her assessment of the person before her. She’d been unsure of John’s true feelings, but now, she was sure.

Her son was safe with this man.

“Oh, hey. By the way.”

Haze stopped as John called out. What did he want?

“Haze, right? I’m gonna call you that. Haze. How much do you love Destiny?”

“...what do you mean by that?” There was a hint of danger in her voice. It seemed John had touched a sore spot, but that was what he was looking for.

“Your son. I’m not too familiar with how your family works, being bodyguards and all that, but is your son your son? Or is he a tool?”

“Why do you care?” Haze turned around, a murderous look in her eyes, but John wasn’t backing down.

He wanted to know, just for curiosity's sake.

“He told me a bit about himself. So… if he’d failed the Windwalker test, what would you have done?”

“...I cannot say.”

John sighed, letting a smile slip through.

“That’s good to hear.”

“...what, do you think yourself powerful enough to be testing me?”

“No, no. I just wanted to be sure.”

John stood up, dusting himself off again.

“There might be more to Destiny than you might know. I just wanted to make sure that no matter what, he was your son before anything else.”

“You- what are you saying?” Haze exclaimed. “You need to watch your mouth carefully, lest you-”

“Haze Windwalker.” John’s voice was very sober. “I hope, for your entire family’s sake, that your son will always be your son, no matter what. I don’t think he’ll do anything bad. But if he goes and flips the world by its feet, I want to make sure that you’ll remember that he is someone you love. And that he has always had your best intent at heart.”

Something about John’s tone made Haze stop in her tracks. He was being dead serious. Something she’d said while talking to the king came back to mind.

“Neither version of that boy felt genuine. It was impossible for me to discern whether her was telling the truth or not the entire time. Sir. If I may be honest… that boy is incredibly skilled at getting what he wants. It was possible that neither version of himself was the real him. His true motives likely remain unknown.”

What he’d said just now… this felt like the real him, somehow.

“...when you’re not playing the fool, you can be quite wise.”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” John shrugged. “I’m just saying whatever, you know? Take it with a grain of salt.”

Haze nodded, regaining her composure. “Very well. The maids or butlers will know where I am. I’ll take you to our magical engineer. Ah, and as thanks…”

She stopped and looked back, a sly grin on her face. “I’ll pay for this one. I heard you’re quite stingy with money.”

“What- from who?!”

Haze walked off without another word, leaving John speechless.

“...seriously? Hey, who’d you hear that from? Destiny?! Hey, hey!”