"Workers, huh..." Light muttered thoughtfully. Ratkin Workers could make life significantly easier, aiding in gathering resources and other vital energy sources. They would be indispensable for his growth. Still, he decided to wait until tomorrow to construct the Great Hall, after his 'child' was born.
As he considered this, a strange thought struck him. In his past life, he had struggled just to get a girlfriend, and now, here he was—skipping that step entirely and already expecting a 'child.' Light shook his head with a wry smile.
A small rat climbed onto his hand and scurried into his palm, letting out a soft squeak.
Light instinctively understood it.
"You found someone? And this person is heading toward this place?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Could they be the owner of the hut? What do they look like?"
The rat squeaked again, its tiny body trembling with excitement.
"Someone about my height, with two arms and two legs, carrying a sword," Light repeated, piecing the information together. It sounded like a human.
Unfortunately, the rat wasn't intelligent enough to provide more details. Deciding he needed to handle the situation himself, Light raised his hand. A swarm of rats entered the hut, gently lifting the Mutant Rat and carrying her to a hidden location for safety.
Initially curious, he grew cautious when he heard the owner was armed. If they were carrying a weapon, they could be dangerous.
Light stepped outside, preparing to meet the approaching figure.
Minutes turned into an hour.
"When is this owner going to show up?" Light muttered, impatience creeping in. He summoned one of the rats for an update.
The rat squeaked, revealing that the person had been hiding the entire time.
Light narrowed his eyes, then suddenly burst into laughter, smacking his palm with his fist. "Of course! Who wouldn’t be terrified, seeing a giant rat standing outside their house?"
The image of the terrified owner cowering somewhere made him chuckle. They probably thought the Ratkin ancestor was some kind of 'monster'.
"Alright... let's go meet this 'owner.' Maybe I can get some information about this world." He gestured toward his loyal swarm. "Rats, assemble! Let’s move."
...
Not far from the hut was a small area littered with piles of trash so high they resembled miniature mountains. According to the rats, the owner was hiding somewhere within this mess.
The place reeked of decay, but oddly enough, the stench was tolerable to Light. Given the overwhelming amount of garbage and the sewer-like odor, most people would have collapsed from the smell alone.
Following the swarm of rats, Light soon spotted the owner cowering behind a rusted trash can. The man sat with his back pressed against it, clutching a sword tightly in both hands. His dark, disheveled hair framed his trembling figure. Though Light couldn’t see his face clearly, it was evident the man was human.
"Should I report this to the Church? No, no! If I do, they’ll find me too... But what is that monster?!" the man muttered to himself in a panicked whisper, shaking his head violently. "The Church already cleansed this area. There’s no way a monster could appear here now... right? But what if they missed one?"
"Impossible... impossible... what do I do now?"
Light decided to interrupt the man’s spiral of panic. "Hello there."
"Hi—AHHH!" The man screamed as he stumbled backward, his heart nearly stopping at the sight of a rat-like face mere inches from his own. Instinctively, he swung his sword toward the creature, but his trembling hands betrayed him. Worse still, the creature’s breath reeked, nearly making him gag.
In desperation, he flung the sword away and tried to flee. Sweat beaded on his brow as his legs scrambled to move.
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Before he could get far, an unseen force pinned him to the ground.
"Please! Please let me go! I beg you!" the man cried, his voice cracking in terror as tears streamed down his face. The acrid stench of urine filled the air.
"Relax. I’m not going to hurt you," Light said, removing his foot from the man’s chest. "I just want to ask you something."
"...Really?" the man stammered, his body still trembling as he instinctively tried to put some distance between himself and the creature. Wiping his tears with a shaky hand, he eyed Light warily.
"Really," Light said with a nod, doing his best to sound reassuring. Internally, though, his heart raced with a nervous energy he struggled to suppress.
------
Ignatius Coldwater
Gender: Male
Race: Half-Mutant
Rank: Knight Class
Energy: 309
------
This man was far stronger than Light had anticipated. He’d underestimated him at first, fooled by Ignatius’s timid demeanor. But the realization that Ignatius was Knight Class—a rank far beyond his own—left Light uneasy. How could someone this powerful be so cowardly?
Was this all an act? Light narrowed his eyes, thinking, 'Is he trying to catch me off guard?' But if Ignatius was playing a role, surely he must know Light was already onto him.
Stepping back slowly, Light kept his gaze locked on Ignatius. "Who are you?"
Of course, Light already knew his name. But this question was bait—he wanted to learn more, to dig deeper into the man’s background.
Ignatius straightened his expression a mix of fear and desperation. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together. "Please! My name is Ignatius Coldwater. I’m from Greenwood, a rural town. I swear I didn’t mean to intrude on your territory! Please, forgive me! I have a family—a wife and child waiting for me at home! If you let me go, I’ll even bring you a human sacrifice!"
The words hit Light like a slap. For a moment, he was speechless, the air around them falling eerily silent. Ignatius, too, seemed to notice, his breathing ragged as the tension grew unbearable.
"If that’s not enough," Ignatius continued, his voice cracking with panic, "I’ll establish a church in your name! Please, just spare me!"
Light raised an eyebrow, baffled. 'This guy... is he serious?' He examined Ignatius closely, trying to determine whether the man’s pleas were genuine or a ploy. Either way, the groveling was starting to give him a headache.
"Who owns the hut?" Light finally asked, ignoring the man's ramblings.
"Huh?" Ignatius blinked in confusion, momentarily caught off guard. Realization dawned on him, and he quickly slammed his forehead against the ground. "I’m sorry for deceiving you!"
Light rubbed his temples in frustration. "Enough. I’m not planning to eat you or anything. I just want to ask you a few questions."
He paused, then added coldly, "But if you talk again without permission, I might change my mind."
"Heek!" Ignatius whimpered, nodding furiously. He clamped his hands over his mouth and followed Light closely, trembling like a leaf.
'Seriously? This guy’s either the world’s best actor or a total wreck,' Light thought, stifling a sigh. Despite the man’s overwhelming fear, it was hard to reconcile his cowardice with his Knight Class rank. According to the system’s information, a Knight Class was supposed to be strong enough to take on a thousand Civilian Class levels alone. Yet here Ignatius was, groveling like a novice.
Light shook his head. 'Whatever. As long as he keeps misunderstanding my strength, it works in my favor.'
When they reached the hut, Light stepped inside first. "Come in," he said.
Ignatius hesitated at the doorway. He opened his mouth to protest—this was, after all, his house—but quickly thought better of it and followed silently.
Light settled into a chair while Ignatius knelt on the floor, hands still trembling. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint sound of dripping water in the distance.
"First question," Light said, breaking the silence. "What exactly is a half-mutant?"
"...Half-mutant?" Ignatius blinked, confused. "I-I’m sorry, but I don’t know. There are many mixed races, but this is the first time I’ve heard of a half-mutant."
Light squinted at him, trying to detect any hint of a lie, but Ignatius seemed genuinely clueless.
"B-but I do know about mutants!" Ignatius quickly added, eager to provide something of value. "I’ve read about them in a book!"
"Alright," Light said, motioning for him to continue.
Ignatius swallowed nervously.
"Mutants are terrifying creatures—abominations created by corruption. They were once human or other races, but exposure to dark energy twisted their bodies and minds. They lose their reason, consumed by madness, but gain incredible strength and abilities. The trade-off is their morality—they become monsters in every sense of the word."
He paused before continuing, "Most mutants don’t last long. The madness usually drives them to self-destruction. Only the strongest can resist and regain enough reason to survive. According to the book I read, the dark energy that creates mutants comes from the Evil Gods."
Light listened intently, his expression unreadable.
"Mutants’ origins are tragic," Ignatius went on. "Many were once warlocks—scholars pursuing forbidden knowledge—or adventurers who unknowingly fell victim to corruption. Then there are abominations—a type of mutant created not by dark energy but through experiments conducted by warlocks."
"But..." Ignatius hesitated, shaking his head. "I don’t know anything about half-mutants."
Light leaned back, processing the information. 'This world is more terrifying than I thought. Warlocks, mutants, Evil Gods... This isn’t some simple fantasy world.'
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'It’s like a nightmare brought to life.'
Still, Light decided to push those thoughts aside for now. While intriguing, the bigger threats—like warlocks and Evil Gods—were far beyond his current concerns. Right now, he was still in the "novice village," so to speak.
Clapping his hands, Light said, "Alright. Tell me about the surface. What’s the situation up there, and why are you hiding down here?"