The snow in Buena Village was thick.
Four figures—two big, two small—moved through the white haze, their footsteps crunching rhythmically across the frozen ground. Amidst the soft creak of snow came Rudeus's voice:
"Uncle Laws, what kind of monsters are we dealing with this time? I want to prepare the right magic to counter them."
Laws led the group at the front. Rudeus walked half a step behind, just to his right. Allen and Sylphy followed side by side at the rear.
Without turning, Laws glanced back at the pair behind him and replied:
"Mainly D-rank monsters with high reproductive rates. Forest snakes, giant gnawing rats, sawtooth hares, frost tide frogs, sable bears, red-eyed demon monkeys, frost weasels…"
As Laws rattled off the list like reciting from a grocery list, Rudeus's expression grew steadily more pale.
"That many?!"
"It's like this every year. Just… worse this time. We really should've cleared them out properly last year. We did ask for support from other villages, but they all reported monster activity on their end too."
Laws's voice carried a hint of frustration, his words torn apart by the wind and scattered into the snow.
Unlike the lively exchange up ahead, Allen and Sylphy were unusually quiet.
Allen's attention clearly wasn't on the conversation. With absent-minded gestures, he cleared the snow in Sylphy's path while gazing at the drifting flakes in the sky, lost in thought.
Sylphy, walking beside him, still looked small—her head barely reached Allen's chest. She had grown a lot over the past year, but Allen had grown even faster. If anything, it made her seem shorter by comparison.
Still, time had undeniably left its marks on her.
Much of her babyish softness had faded. Though her clothes still fit loosely, the shape of her waist and legs already hinted at a young girl's figure. With her hands clasped behind her back, she took long, steady strides along the path Allen had cleared for her.
Her green hair danced lightly in the wind. Through the snowy veil, reddish-brown eyes flicked sidelong toward Allen as he trudged forward, mechanically brushing snow from their path.
Crunch. Crunch.
"Would fire magic be more effective—?"
The sounds of Laws and Rudeus discussing spell types blended into the rhythm of snow underfoot. Sylphy pulled her gaze from Allen's face and suddenly stepped forward in one big motion, turning to look him straight in the eyes.
"Allen, is something bothering you lately?"
Allen blinked in surprise, looking at Sylphy's wind-chilled, flushed face.
"Huh? No? Why do you ask?"
In the next moment, Sylphy gave a little hop. Her hair swirled in the wind as she reached out and gently poked his brow with a finger.
With a soft thud, her feet landed. Under Allen's stunned gaze, she continued walking backward, facing him the entire time.
Her voice, soft and slow as always, drifted gently into Allen's ears:
"If there's nothing bothering you, then why have your brows been furrowed so much these past six months? You've also been talking less and less."
"…Really?"
Sylphy tilted her head, quietly watching Allen's deliberate attempt to smooth out his frown.
"It's not just the way you speak. Even your eyes are different. Like… there's something far away, right in front of you. Something you keep reaching for, but can't quite grasp."
Their gazes met through the drifting snow.
Within the silence of their shared line of sight, snowflakes and distant mist curled and danced.
[Current Phase: Childhood. Total Engagement Score: 90/100.]
[So close to a perfect score, and yet… that final step feels like a chasm too wide to cross.]
Allen stared at the system panel that had silently appeared before him. Even though it hovered in front of Sylphy's face, he couldn't muster a smile.
One year.
Ninety points was still ninety points.
No progress.
He'd been grinding favor with the entire Greyrat family using all the techniques that had worked before—and not once had the system shown a prompt about gaining points.
He'd even tried farming goodwill with Mrs. Eto.
…Well, let's not get into that mess. Let's just say she was a bit too enthusiastic, and he had to bolt. Fast.
Now, with only six months of the Childhood Phase left, a gnawing sense of urgency was starting to creep in.
Whether or not the system's reward was worth it—that wasn't the point anymore. The frustration of being this close, yet never quite getting there, was driving him up the wall.
Come on, system. You always say this last step is like a bottomless chasm. But every time I ask for specifics, you vanish. Can't you give me something concrete?
The panel flickered for a long moment, then finally reformed its text.
[Honestly? If you let yourself get swept into the chaos, you might actually gain something. But if I told you exactly what to do… you might never earn those last ten points.]
What are you, a riddle-spouting sage now? Speak plainly.
[Allen, you're too rational. Too focused on results. You like logic, patterns, calculations. You try to think everything through before making a move—and instinctively choose the safest, most beneficial path.]
[I get it. That comes from the world you came from. Climbing from an orphanage to college on government aid? That kind of survival mindset runs deep. It's what gave you the "skills" you have now—how you earned healing magic, how you handled the cheating scandal swiftly, won favor from Lilia, Zenith… racked up tons of points.]
[But that doesn't necessarily mean you're on the right path.]
[Do you understand what I'm saying?]
In his mind, Allen caught a flash of the crammed "future sight" notes on the bedroom memo page. He opened his mouth to argue—but the words caught in his throat.
Always weighing every choice, always calculating the "optimal" solution, playing the role of the calm and competent adult.
Isn't that what being a working adult is?
What's wrong with avoiding risk?
His inner protest died on his lips. The panel dissolved into the wind like it had no interest in continuing the conversation.
Sylphy, who had been walking backward to better read Allen's expression, finally looked away when she noticed he still hadn't replied. She lowered her gaze to the freshly fallen snow on her boots and spoke again.
"Allen… could it be…"
Her soft voice pulled Allen out of his daze. He blinked, still foggy from his mental back-and-forth with the system.
…I got so caught up arguing with the system, I forgot I was mid-conversation. Sylphy picked up on it. That 'far-off thing you can't reach'—she really nailed it, huh.
Wait, hold on. Could it be that our future gentle and understanding White Mom, even in her child form, is about to offer some actual insight?
With that thought, Allen snapped back to himself and looked down at Sylphy, waiting for her to finish.
Her gaze remained on the snow by her feet.
"Could it be…"
Allen nodded slightly, echoing her words in his heart. Could it be…
"…you're missing Roxy-sensei?"
I'm missing Ro—
Wait, what?
Allen froze.
The wind and snow still whipped around him.
But for a moment, the world seemed strangely quiet.
Then it hit him what Sylphy had just said.
Huh??? Wait, what do you mean I'm yearning for something unreachable because I'm missing Roxy? How does that even—how is that logical?!
He opened his mouth to argue, but just then, his eyes landed on something—and he froze again.
Laws and Rudeus had stopped walking at some point. Now, both were staring at him.
One adult, one child—two very different people.
And yet their expressions were identical.
Dead serious.