[Vine control has improved. Your centimeter hair now sways gently with a subtle grace, as if responding to an unseen breeze.]

...I could feel a simmering rage building within me, fueled by the Little Helper's incessant taunting. Its condescending remarks and mocking tone had worn thin, and I harbored a deep desire to confront it one day, to prove my worth and silence its insolence forever. The thought of a fierce battle, a clash of wills between me and the Little Helper, ignited a fire of determination within me.

Despite the constant jabs from the Little Helper, the past two months had been a period of progress. During moments when my parents were absent, I would quietly and diligently practice my Vine Control skill, honing my abilities in secret. It was a way for me to reclaim my power and defy the limitations that were imposed upon me. If my parents were to witness my mastery, I was certain they would recognize me as a prodigy, showering me with the praise and admiration that I craved.

Interrupting my thoughts, the Little Helper questioned my intentions for seeking answers in the first place. Its snide remark insinuated that I was foolish for asking questions, highlighting its own arrogance. Irritated by its remark, I couldn't help but respond, defending my desire for parents.

"Yes, I did express a longing for parents, and I have no regrets about it," I retorted, my voice laced with determination. "Though they may not be my biological parents, they are the ones who have embraced me in this world. They are my guardians, providing me with love, security, and a sense of belonging. In their presence, I find solace and the strength to face the challenges that lie ahead. They may not be bound by blood, but their love for me knows no bounds."

Seizing the opportunity to taunt me further, the Little Helper questioned my sense of safety, reminding me of the Health Monitor skill I possessed. Its tone dripped with disdain and superiority, attempting to undermine my intelligence. Anger surged within me as I retorted fiercely.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I did not forget about it, it merely slipped my mind momentarily," I snapped back, my voice tinged with frustration. "Besides, is it not an invasion of privacy to intrude upon someone's personal health without their consent?"

The Little Helper's response, suggesting that sending enemies to the afterlife would be a greater invasion of privacy, only intensified my annoyance. I demanded that it silence its taunts, unwilling to engage in discussions about death and destruction at my tender age of two months. I was still a fledgling in both mind and body, far from prepared to face such weighty matters.

My cry summoned my parents, who rushed into the room with worry etched on their faces. My mother's voice quivered as she anxiously asked what he had done, while my father, defensively, claimed he had been in another room. Their bickering filled the air, giving me a moment to use my abilities and check their status, hoping for a glimpse of valuable information.

Disappointment washed over me as the screen displayed their names, Celtis Brin and Mithad, The Boastful, but withheld their detailed status due to my low level. The Little Helper revealed in informing me of this limitation, taunting me with its power to withhold information until I reached a higher level.

Infuriated by its snarky comments and its role in keeping me in the dark, I couldn't contain my frustration any longer. "You're a contemptible little creature, Little Helper!" I exclaimed, my voice resonating with irritation. However, I swiftly regained my composure, drawing upon my superior intellect to decipher the meanings behind my parents' names.

"Celtis Brin, derived from the Celtis tree, symbolizes strength and resilience, while 'Brin' signifies a hill, a steadfast presence," I explained, my voice now tinged with pride. "And Mithad, The Boastful, his name reflecting his confidence and prowess. Together, they embody power and determination, while I, in comparison, am still finding my place." Acknowledging the unnecessary commentary from the Little Helper, I extended a begrudging thanks for its information, though its presence still irked me.

Unbeknownst to my parents, a profound sense of purpose surged within me. I embraced my lineage as the son of Celtis Brin and Mithad, The Boastful, believing that I was chosen by a higher power to enact positive change in this world.

Amidst the joyful exclamation of my parents, who were captivated by my tiny arms and their potential, questions swirled in my mind. What did my father mean by lifting weights? Was it a measure of strength? And when would babies typically resume their movements? The Little Helper's presence, with all its flaws, served as a reminder that this world was shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. Yet, with the unwavering love and support of my parents, I was determined to navigate through it, embracing the challenges and mysteries that lay ahead, and growing both physically and mentally.