The villagers looked horrified, Omma Cynthia especially, as the squash started to produce those eerie black spots all over their skins. Everyone hoped to see the marks vanish over the next few days, praying it was just a temporary ailment, but the disease only took further root. Eventually, the squash began wrinkling and rotting even still on their vines, their leaves growing black with sickness this time as well.

They looked even worse than the generation that had been present when Gen had first arrived. And when Omma Cynthia ordered some farmers to check the stores of their food for back-ups, there was hardly anything left.

Gen gave a nervous laugh, unsure of how he should respond in this situation, as all the villagers and Omma Cynthia slowly turned to face him.

“I really don’t want to say ‘I told you so’, but…” He said casually, scratching the back of his head and avoiding Omma Cynthia’s cold gaze.

“Oh, get off your high-horse, boy.” Omma Cynthia scowled, whapping Gen’s hand with her cane. “Show us your darn crop. Let’s hope you didn’t make this one poisonous, too.”

“Rude!” Gen complained, but his heart fluttered with excitement as he led the village over to his own little field off to the side. His squash were just barely growing in at this point – they were tiny lumps of yellow and orange just starting to show – but it was clear that they would be healthy.

Omma Cynthia sighed, tapping her cane on the ground as she shook her head. “So we need entirely new fields, hm?” She murmured, brow furrowed in concern as she thought about the logistics of it. “We’ll be encroaching on the forest if we spread out much further.”

“We can also purge the disease from your current fields.” Gen suggested, bending down and checking one of his growing squash with a smile. “We’ll use my field for now to provide for the village and ration out the squash that everyone eats. In the meantime, we could get rid of the fields you currently have and start them over from scratch.”

“By burning them?” Omma Cynthia asked flatly, giving Gen a hard stare.

“Er, maybe?” Gen suggested brightly, beaming up at her. “You could also try a different kind of crop. The disease might only affect strains of squash. That’s all you grow in this village, right?”

“Right.” Omma Cynthia nodded slowly, her eyes a little softer now. “It’s all we’ve ever grown.”

“Well, that might be why the disease came up in the first place.” Gen said thoughtfully, tapping on his chin with a hum. “Your soil stays healthier if you promote plant diversity. I think planting a completely different crop in your existing fields might be a good idea!”

Some of the farmers were nodding in agreement with Gen, eying his healthy crops with shining expressions, as though it had been far too long since they’d seen a healthy plant themselves. Omma Cynthia was no exception to this either, staring at the plants with her piercing eyes for the first time in a while filled with hope instead of anxiety.

“We’ll think about it.” Omma Cynthia said gruffly, tapping her cane against the ground. “We’d need to buy new seed from a nearby village for that, though.”

“Trade them some squash seed in return for it.” Gen said immediately, getting to his feet. A fire felt like it had been lit in his veins as an idea burned through his mind. “The villages in this area are probably all suffering from a similar disease since you all grow nothing but the same crop over and over. If we tell them about this and encourage them to plant different crops, we could help the surrounding villages as well.”

“I could still help that village from before.” Gen thought, his fist clenching in determination at his side.

Omma Cynthia saw the look on his face, and a wry smile crossed her own. “Well, I guess I won’t be able to talk you out of that idea.” She huffed, shaking her head at him. “You’d rather help the others out instead of keeping this to ourselves?”

“Why would we?” Gen demanded, holding his arms out in bafflement. “Sure, we could grow in power as a village by being the only healthy one, and plenty of others would flock to us. We could grow as a village quite a bit this way. But I’d rather grow as a community, each village helping the others to get stronger and pull through this.”

Gen reached out towards Omma Cynthia, the fire still streaming through his blood. “Let’s help the others, Omma Cynthia.” He told her, reddish eyes locked on the silent woman. “All of them, if we can. I’ll visit each of the villages if you don’t want to spare any farmers here. I’ll tell them about the disease. I’ll help them clear their fields. I’ll help them start back-up fields while they acquire new crops. Just let me help them.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Gen, you’re insane.” Jordan’s voice suddenly spoke up from the crowd, the teenage girl crossing her arms as she glared at Gen. “Seriously! Don’t you know when to stop? Can’t you just pick some priorities and stick to those? Why are you helping so many people you don’t even know?”

Gen could see the anger in her eyes when she said that. The frustration as she glared at him, trying to figure out why he’d go to all of this trouble instead of just helping his own. And truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to be helping all these people. The sim just wanted him to help out one village, whichever village he got placed in. Not the entire local community.

But Gen could remember all the people he’d met in the village in his last sim. He still had friends over there who were struggling to make it by. Elders that had given him many a lecture or two, but still let him hang around and get to know everyone. He was just as much a part of that village as this one, and he would’ve been just as much a part of any village in this entire region, given the chance.

To Gen, anyone could’ve been his own people. Regardless of whether he’d met them or not.

“It’s just chance who I end up helping, isn’t it?” Gen finally responded aloud, smiling at Jordan. “It’s pure chance that I stumbled into this village, or the last one. I could’ve been at any of the other ones. And I won’t deny them my help just because chance didn’t drop me on their doorstep.”

Gen shrugged, the smile still bright on his face as he looked at his friend. “Chance shouldn’t decide who gets help and who has to suffer.” He said simply. “We should.”

He turned to Omma Cynthia again, holding out his hands once more. “Let’s decide to help.” He said firmly.

The village went quiet, everyone glancing at the village matriarch and waiting to see what she would say. The old woman was quiet, clutching her cane with white-knuckles fingers, staring at the ground beneath her feet.

Gen could only wait and see what she would say. Hope that after three weeks, she would see the value he did in helping those around yourself. Hope that he could make up for his past mistakes.

Hope she didn’t think he was just a crop-burning maniac at this point.

The silence stretched over their group for several seconds until the old woman finally heaved a huge sigh and looked back up at Gen.

“You’re an idiot, boy.” She said flatly. “But you’ve got a good heart.”

If those weren’t the words that defined Gen’s soul, he didn’t know what were.

Gen grinned at Omma Cynthia, still holding his hands out to her. He didn’t say anything, just waited for the next part of her response.

The old woman scowled at his grin, smacking away his hands with her cane. “Don’t touch me with those flame-crazed fingers of yours.” She huffed, turning around and placing her hunched back to him. “Go bring us back some seeds for a new crop from the nearest village. Then you can go off on your stupid, helping journey. Maybe by the time you get back,”

Omma Cynthia glanced over her shoulder at him, her hawk-like eyes glinting at him. “You’ll finally have a house waiting for you here.” She said with the faintest trace of a smile.

Gen could feel warmth spreading throughout his entire body. His grin widened even further, reflecting the happiness he felt fluttering in his chest.

“Yes, Omma Cynthia!” He chirped, dropping his hands and giving the old matriarch a mock salute. “I won’t let you down!”

The other farmers began to crowd around Gen, giving him information about the nearby villages and their crops, each putting in input on which ones they wanted him to go and collect. Jordan stayed away from the huddle, still fuming and glaring at Gen all the while, but he knew she’d come around eventually.

Even if he wouldn’t be around to see it.

Because as Gen chatted with the villagers and began to discuss their future agricultural plans, the lights in their eyes and the strength in their voices restored once more, he could hear a strange crinkling sound in his ears.

An electric whine that none of the villagers seemed to respond to, getting louder and louder out of nowhere. And when Gen glanced towards his peripheral, he could see the edges of the village slowly crumbling away into a white void. From the forest bordering their little civilization to the grass around the edges of their fields, everything was peeling away into blankness, disintegrating before Gen’s eyes.

The simulation was ending.

Gen slowly turned to look at all of the villagers before him, smiling as they all chattered eagerly, unaware of what was happening. They were going to come out strong from this. The villages in the surrounding area would, too. Gen had been able to do that for this community.

Gen’s smile stayed firmly on his face, even as his disembodied form began to tingle all over.

He may not be the best public speaker in the world, or the best strategist. He couldn’t get things done as fast as Kenox, or sway as many people to his side as Hidari. Heck, he probably wasn’t even as good as Migi at military strategy, and that was his strongest subject. Gen wasn’t the best person in the room at any particular thing.

But he was someone who knew how to spot the problems in a situation around himself, and would do anything he could to fix them. He didn’t care if it was a disease, a person, an entire country, or fate itself that was causing the problem. He would solve it anyway and lift himself up past it.

And he knew how to lift his people up with him.

Because he was a king.

He glanced over at Jordan as the world continued to crumble away, meeting the girl’s frustrated gaze with a beaming smile. Her glare softened just the tiniest bit as his smile, and she managed a dry smirk in response, shaking her head at his usual idiocy.

He merely kept smiling at her, even after the white void completely overtook her body, after it surged towards the other villagers around him and consumed them as well, after the massive flash of white overtook the entire world in an instant, and completely blinded Gen himself.

He kept smiling.

A single message in black text appeared in the sea of white, right before Gen’s smile.

[END OF AGRICULTURAL PLANNING, REMEDIAL SECOND-YEAR EXAMINATION, UNIT SIX. YOUR SIMULATION IN THE FARMING COMMUNITY AGRIPPA IS COMPLETE. WELL DONE.]

Well done. He’d passed it this time.

Gen finally closed his eyes, that same smile still on his face, and let the void of white envelop his body.