The sun begins to bask the streets outside the window in its morning light. Straf opens his eyes and slumps down from his meditative pose to a more natural sitting position on his bed.

「Right. Let's see how much I managed to grind up. Stats.」

Strength: 152 [+] ▲ Perception: 23 [+] ▴

Agility: 113 [+] ▲ Endurance: 119 [+]▲

Dexterity: 132 [+] ▲ Willpower: 22 [+]

Luck: 139 [+] Intelligence: 51 [+] ▴

Charisma: 205 [+] ▴ Wisdom: 53 [+] ▴

Straf rubs his chin as he stares at the array of numbers on the translucent rectangle in front of him.

「Well, my willpower is still abysmal. That's okay, I don't think it matters much to begin with. Might as well have some fun with [Cultivation] and see how far I can take it.」

His eyes drift to strength, agility, and dexterity scores.

「Hmm… If I put too many points into my physical stats, I may end up filling this country's calendar with a bunch of memorable and tragic dates by simply going about my business. Charisma is pretty worthless, so I guess I'll…」

His index finger hovers over a bracketed plus, and stays there until it disappears.

[0 attribute points available] [161 skill points available]

Strength: 152 ▲ Perception: 23 ▴

Agility: 113 ▲ Endurance: 119 ▲

Dexterity: 132 ▲ Willpower: 22

Luck: [-] 391 Intelligence: 51 ▴

Charisma: 205 ▴ Wisdom: 53 ▴

「There. Though the amount of points seems a little off… Athea, why do I seem to have more points to distribute than I probably should?」

Straf presses the [Apply] button in the corner of the stats screen, then looks up at the ceiling and asks.

《Not again… What do you want- What did you do!?》

Athea's frustrated voice echoes in his head. She shouts, and materializes in Straf's room right in front of his bed.

Pfwoom.

Her boots clack on the wooden floor, and slight overpressure displaces the air in the room. She rushes up to Straf and stares at his stats screen with huge eyes and a stretched mouth.

「Why? Why do you keep doing this? Is this on purpose, just to make yourself a constant problem!?」

She points at Straf's stats while looking at him. His eyebrows rise.

「What's your problem? I just put my points into luck, because I don't want to accidentally kill half the city trying to open a door. You really ought to do a divine fiat and teach them how to make better hinges.」

Straf plops down on his bed with his hands behind his head. Athea glares at him.

「Do you even realize that most beings can't raise their luck beyond what they're born with for a reason?」

「Yeah? And what reason is that?」

「Because you'll act like a magnet for completely improbable events! You'll run into people you never should even have a chance to! It's like-」

Straf snaps his fingers as Athea explains the complications of high luck.

「Nice. So high luck is shit writing. Thanks for the tip.」

Straf points at the fuming Athea with a smug grin.

「What do you want? Why are you bothering me again?」

She crosses her arms. Straf looks her over from her thighs, up to her scornful face as she stands over him beside the bed.

「I noticed you're not wearing my little gift. I'll let you off the hook this time, since I didn't really call you here. Now, can you explain why I have more points than I expected? It's morning, and numbers make my brain hurt. Give me some deus ex machina explanation.」

Straf closes his eyes as he lays relaxed on the bed. Athea scoffs.

「Normally, when you would hit significant milestones in your development, you would come across some form of an epiphany and a vast increase in power.」

「So, it's those bonus points?」

Straf asks, and Athea sighs.

「…Correct. But since you asked for a numerical representation of aptitude and the ability to distribute your development, you get no feeling of an eye-opening discovery.」

「Yeah, that kind of sucks. But then again, it's either being broken OP, or feeling satisfied by my progress while dodging shurikens in my inn bed.」

「…What?」

「Forget it. Here's another question, why don't my stats make a witty acronym?」

Straf opens one of his eyes and looks up at Athea.

「…What? May I suggest putting all your points in intelligence next time?」

She glares down at him with squinting, mildly confused eyes.

「I mean, look. If the initials of my stats made an acronym, it would be a lot more memorable. For example, shuffle the stats around so perception is after strength, endurance after perception, charisma-」

Straf explains, pointing at his stat screen.

「Stop wasting my time already, you dreadful pest. Behave.」

Pfwoom.

Athea disappears into a narrow beam of light upward. Straf shrugs and gets up from his bed.

「For a setting this unoriginal, you'd think she'd turn a blind eye on a little infringement. Whatever.」

He stretches a little, then leaves his room. He walks up to the next door over and knocks.

「Lia? You awake?」

「Yes, I couldn't really sleep much. Come in if you want.」

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Cycelia's muffled voice answers from beyond the door. Straf shrugs and walks part-way in. Cycelia finishes buttoning up her shirt just as he opens the door, and she starts slipping her boots on.

「Pestered by assassins again, or weird cryptic dreams featuring a masked man?」

Straf asks, and the question makes Cycelia tilt her head.

「Huh? Do you mean that Sturm person?」

「No I meant more like- Whatever. Are you ready to go watch the plot progression fight for its life again?」

「You mean the arena? Yes… I feel bad for those people that the innkeeper kicked out, Straf.」

She finishes tying her shoes, and her face remains a little sullen as she looks up at Straf.

「Why? If the assassins were after their ass, they'd be resting in peace, alright.」

「We shouldn't have lied about who I am.」

Cycelia says, as she gets up from the bed with slumped shoulders.

「Hey, I didn't lie. Aren't you a noblewoman from a high-up family?」

「I am, but-」

「Don't I call you Lia all the time?」

「Yes, but-」

「No buts. The innkeeper made the right choice to grovel before you and kiss my ass. 「There is no such thing as bad publicity」 thing only works if you're not in the hospitality business. Now let's go.」

Straf nods towards the stairs, pointing his thumb out of the room. Cycelia follows Straf out of the inn, after they turn their new room keys in. The innkeeper sees them out, wishing them a good day as he nods his head over and over, licking their boots in spirit.

Just a minute or two away from the inn, Straf sees a familiar face run into him on one of the city's main streets.

「Mr. Straf! Mr. Straf!」

A young man shouts as he runs up, waving at him, and his face is terribly bruised. Straf and Cycelia stop in their tracks.

「What? Want a round two?」

「Huh?」

Straf asks, and the man tilts his head in response as he's trying to catch his breath. Finally after panting for a moment, he does one big exhale.

「Mr. Straf, I've been looking for you. I've come to thank you for yesterday.」

「Huh? First it's leather aficionados, and today's theme is masochists?」

Straf glances in disbelief at Cycelia.

「If you only have some time, could you visit my sister? Our home is not far from here, and she really would like to meet the man who helped her.」

「Oh, so you actually weren't lying to me?」

「I would never! We've both been very grateful!」

He clenches his fists and nods with force to add more conviction to his statement.

「Straf, what is this about?」

Cycelia asks in hushed tone, partially hidden behind Straf.

「Oh yeah… Uh… Me kicking this guy's ass yesterday helped his sister.」

「I… See…」

Cycelia says, pausing between the drawn-out words.

「Please. It would make her very happy.」

He nods again, this time gently requesting. Straf sighs.

「Straf, I think we have some time before the matches start. Wouldn't it be nice to make some friends, too?」

「Tsk. I guess. I wanted to see the trope for myself, anyhow.」

「Great! Follow me! It's just a few minues away at most!」

The bruised man pumps his fist and waves his hand for Straf and Cycelia to follow him. They walk off the main street through dark alleys. Color and life seems to gradually fade from the buildings, and the people on the streets as they follow him. Eventually, the stone buildings are replaced by wooden huts, and the wooden huts are replaced by falling apart, dilapidated ruins.

Not too long after, the man shoves his shoulder into a door of a home that still has its roof and walls. He grunts, and the door swings open after some forcing.

「Here! Come on in!」

Straf and Cycelia glance at each other with raised eyebrows, then walk into the dark hut falling victim to disrepair. The young man follows them in and closes the door by shoving his body into it.

「Millie! I brought him and his friend!」

「Really!?」

A young girl with flowing, golden hair laying on a straw-lined bed squints at Straf as he walks into the room, with rotting wooden flooring creaking beneath his feet. She smiles when she manages to catch his form. She props herself up to sitting with her elbows.

「Wow. The real deal. Do you have a wheelchair?」

Straf puts his fists on his hips as he looks down on the girl in bed with his eyebrows raised.

「…A what?」

She asks weakly. Straf turns to the girl's brother.

「Where's her wheelchair?」

「What's a wheelchair?」

Louche asks, glancing at his confused sister and back at Straf. Cycelia squeezes herself into the cramped room.

「You helped these people, Straf? Why didn't you tell me?」

「Uhhh…」

Straf rubs his chin, and Millie chimes in.

「Mr. Vindict didn't even tell you what happened?」

「…No. It's the first time I'm hearing of this.」

Cycelia fidgets with her medallion as she looks down onto the pale, bedridden girl with pity.

「Mr. Straf rigged- Mpf!」

Slap!

「Shut up shut up shut up!」

Straf grabs Louche's mouth and utters out quickly, keeping him from saying another word. He winces as Straf has no regard for his bruised up face.

「Mr. Vindict gave my brother a gold coin, as charity…」

Millie starts explaining to Cycelia, Straf gasps and his jaw drops as he's too busy dealing with her brother.

「Straf, you did?」

「They have no proof!」

Straf turns around, shouting at Cycelia.

「Straf…」

Cycelia looks at Straf, still fingering her medallion.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

《Shit shit shit shit shit! I knew this would bite me in the ass! Why so soon!? I can't get kicked out now!》

「…I don't know how wealthy Mr. Vindict is, but nobody ever gave us more than a few copper coins. He helped me so much, I don't know how to thank him. He's a very kind man.」

Millie continues after a few breaths. Cycelia glances at Straf, then looks down and gently smiles, still toying with her medallion.

「Yes, he is… Are you sick, or crippled?」

「Yes. I've always been sickly, but it got much worse a few years ago. I need expensive medicine every now and then, or a fever starts burning me and my cough worsens. Don't worry, it doesn't spread. But… My brother was risking his life, and could barely afford it.」

Straf lets go of Louche, glaring at him with a scowl. Cycelia looks at Straf once more.

「Mr. Straf. I have one more request.」

「What? I know being the token pity generator makes your life take all sorts of wrong turns, but take it in stride like me-」

Straf stops himself when he sees Louche kneel down and press his forehead down at the rotting planks in front of Straf.

「Please marry my sister!」

「Huh!?」 「Huh!?」 「Huh-!? Coff! Coof!」