The Next Day…
Slow footsteps echoed on the stairs of the Adventurers' Guild.
Genshiki descended with an empty gaze, his face expressionless. Each step he took seemed to press down on the atmosphere of the room.
The adventurers who had been chatting immediately turned.
Laughter and conversation died instantly.
The lively voices suddenly subsided.
Some turned their heads, then began whispering.
"That's him… the young man the guildmaster brought in."
"Yeah… they said he was found unconscious on the road."
"Is that really him?"
Whispers began to spread.
Eyes filled with curiosity—some dismissive, some cautious.
Genshiki didn't care. He simply walked past the crowd, his eyes blank as if staring at a wall.
But just as he was about to reach the exit, a large hand stopped on his shoulder.
Everyone held their breath.
"Boy, where are you going?"
A gentle yet heavy voice sounded from behind.
The guildmaster—the owner of the guild, a figure respected by all—looked at him with calm eyes.
"Let go."
Genshiki's voice was flat, cold, emotionless.
"This is none of your business."
The room fell silent.
Even the creak of chairs could be heard clearly.
The guildmaster sighed, still smiling faintly.
"In that case, allow me to ask you this. Do you have a home now? Or a purpose in life?"
Genshiki lowered his gaze for a moment.
Inside, he whispered to himself:
"…No. All I have is a past that has already been destroyed."
The old man seemed to read his heart.
"People who remain silent too often," he said softly, "usually have their reasons. They're simply hiding something inside."
The words struck Genshiki.
He turned briefly, his eyes trembling—but only for a moment.
His expression quickly returned to emptiness.
Suddenly, a young woman appeared on the stairs.
The guildmaster's daughter rushed to her father with a worried face.
"Father, don't force him to stay. If he truly wishes… he will return on his own."
"Hahaha… very well."
The guildmaster patted his daughter's shoulder.
"If my daughter says so, I can't refuse."
He gazed at her face, then smiled mischievously.
"But, why are you shedding tears?"
"Ehh?! I'm not crying! It's… just dust!"
His daughter hurriedly wiped her cheek.
But everyone knew, those tears were real.
The heavy silence broke as the guild doors slammed open.
Three figures entered together, their presence tightening the air.
"Miharu, Kazaki, and Hayami…" someone whispered.
"They… they're the strongest team here. They always return without a scratch."
"They're monsters…"
The trio walked in with absolute confidence.
Kazaki, the muscular man with short hair, immediately shot a sharp glare at Genshiki.
"Oi, kid. What did you do to the guildmaster's daughter? To the point her father himself had to intervene?"
"Tch. Annoying."
Genshiki glanced at him briefly, then tried to walk away.
"What?!" Miharu, the leader, growled in anger.
Hayami, the long-haired woman, sneered.
"This brat acts tough. Does he even have any achievements?"
Genshiki still didn't respond, but Kazaki blocked his path.
"Trying to run? If you're a man, fight me! Let everyone here see who's stronger!"
"Enough," the guildmaster raised his voice.
"Don't make a scene—"
But suddenly, Genshiki turned.
His voice was heavy, cold, piercing.
"Fine. I'll comply. Let's see who's truly strong."
Silence.
Every adventurer stared—shocked, unbelieving.
The guildmaster exhaled deeply.
"…I permit it. The three of you… will fight Genshiki."
"WHAT?!"
"Three against one?!"
"That's insane!"
But the guildmaster only nodded firmly.
There were no more objections—only hearts beating faster.
Without another word, footsteps were guided outside, toward the place that had swallowed countless spirits before.
The training grounds behind the guild—a wide field with thick wooden fencing—became the stage for the duel.
Adventurers flocked in, filling the benches as spectators.
Miharu and Hayami each took a wooden sword and shield.
Only Kazaki chose to fight barehanded.
Rumors both in the city and the guild said they were proven experts; their aura was sharp, filled with confidence.
Meanwhile, Genshiki stood at the center of the arena without holding anything.
Hands in his pockets, eyes bored.
As if waiting for the show to end.
"Oi," his voice was quiet yet clear.
"Are you done playing around?"
Kazaki ground his teeth.
"You bastard! You think you're stronger than me?!"
Hayami laughed.
"Just finish him off quickly. I hate that smug face of his."
The three of them charged at once, the ground trembling beneath their steps.
"Tch…"
Genshiki turned his gaze to the guildmaster.
"Oi, Old Man. Lend me your toothpick for a second."
Everyone froze.
The guildmaster even stiffened for a moment before chuckling softly.
"…Are you serious? Just with this?"
Casually, the guildmaster flicked the toothpick from his mouth.
Genshiki caught it between two fingers.
"This is enough," he said flatly.
He twirled the toothpick, then pointed it forward.
"I'll teach you… through pain."
Genshiki held the toothpick not as an object, but as a tiny variable in a grand equation.
In his mind, every term was calculated: height granting potential—not merely m·g·h—but a fulcrum storing possibilities.
The toothpick's initial velocity was nearly zero, but that wasn't the point.
The point was the phase.
If even the slightest vibration aligned—if the smallest frequency resonated with the pulse of the heavens—then an insignificant amplitude could become coherent.
Not mere addition, but amplification; resonance binding space, air, dust, and earth into one.
In crude terms that magicians might call "field mathematics": a tiny energy, if phased correctly, could channel E_total far beyond its sum.
Genshiki closed his eyes briefly, treating it like a simple calculation in his head.
Then—
SNAP!
In an instant, the toothpick shot from his finger—
A violent whirlwind erupted.
Dust exploded, earth lifted, thunderous shockwaves roared across the arena.
BRAAANG!
The three were blown away like rag dolls.
Miharu slammed into the wooden fence until it cracked, collapsing while coughing blood.
Kazaki and Hayami didn't even have time to scream—they fainted instantly.
The crowd of spectators was dumbfounded.
"W-with just… a toothpick?"
"A… monster…"
The guildmaster stood frozen, then let out a long sigh, shaking his head.
His daughter, who had been anxious, now covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glittering.
A faint smile touched her lips.
Amid the shock and chaos, Genshiki tossed the toothpick to the ground.
He began walking slowly out of the arena.
"May I leave now?" he asked flatly, eyes fixed on the guildmaster.
No one dared to answer.
All simply stared in silence.
The arena that had once been noisy was now dead quiet.
Adventurers remained slack-jawed, some not even realizing their mouths were still wide open.
The cracked wooden fence, the unsettled dust, and the three "renowned ones" collapsed on the ground—everything stood as proof of Genshiki's absurd power.
The guildmaster only watched his back.
A faint smile curved his lips, but his eyes were serious—sharp, calculating.
That young man… was clearly no ordinary person, he thought.
A fragment of last night's meteor incident flashed in his mind.
The magicians had panicked.
They had gathered all their destructive magic, yet still couldn't shatter the meteor.
And then—
Suddenly, the meteor exploded, as if destroyed from within.
The guildmaster was certain his eyes hadn't deceived him.
Just before the meteor burst apart, he had glimpsed a faint silhouette atop the clocktower.
"And now…" he muttered softly, only to himself.
"That young man stands before me, with power that defies all reason."
His daughter approached, her face still filled with curiosity and awe.
"Father… who is he, really?"
The guildmaster turned, meeting her gaze.
His smile was gentle, but his tone heavy.
"For now… consider him nothing more than a lost wanderer."
"But—"
"Enough."
The father patted her shoulder softly.
"You don't need to know right now. Just remember this—be careful. That young man is not someone who can be predicted."
His daughter fell silent, staring toward the door where Genshiki had walked away, his tattered cloak fluttering lightly.
Genshiki's footsteps echoed faintly on the cobblestone road, leading to the guild's exit.
The adventurers' eyes still followed him—some in awe, some in fear.
He never looked back, his face blank, as though the duel had been nothing more than a trivial distraction.
"Oi, young man!"
A deep, firm voice called from behind. The guildmaster walked toward him, holding something in his hand.
Genshiki stopped, turning lazily.
"What now?"
The guildmaster raised the object—a worn old sword, its wooden scabbard cracked.
"I saw you carrying a sword yesterday. The carving on its hilt… is exactly the same as this one. Do you recognize it?"
Genshiki's eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn't an ordinary look; faint shadows of memory stirred within him.
"That… was made by my father."
The guildmaster gave a thin smile, filled with respect.
"Indeed. Your father… was a great swordsmith. This blade… saved my life once. I still remember his face. Stern, yet dignified."
Genshiki fell silent. His heart trembled, though his face remained cold.
"Don't speak as if you knew him better than I did."
"Hahaha… perhaps you're right."
The guildmaster patted the old sword gently.
"But I want you to know—your father left a great mark on this world. And looking at you, I feel… that mark hasn't completely vanished."
The air grew still. The evening breeze carried with it the warm scent of old memories.
At last, Genshiki turned, his gaze sharp and direct.
"What are you implying?"
The guildmaster met his eyes with a knowing smile.
"My point is… this place could be a home for you. Not out of pity, but because here… remnants of your father's legacy still remain. If you wish, stay. I won't force you."
Genshiki stood silent for a long while.
He shifted his gaze, glancing at the guild once more.
Several adventurers lingered nearby, curious, whispering among themselves—yet keeping their distance.
Everyone understood: that brief conversation might decide whether the strange boy would truly leave… or become part of their guild.
Not long after, light footsteps came from the guild.
The guildmaster's daughter appeared, carrying a tray with warm drinks.
Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her father and Genshiki facing each other.
"Eh? You two… talking out here?" she asked softly.
Her gaze turned to Genshiki, and without realizing, she said,
"You… look very tired. You don't have to force yourself to leave tonight."
Genshiki's eyes met hers.
In an instant, her figure overlapped with the faint image of his mother.
A gentle smile, a caring voice—everything pierced into memories he had long tried to bury.
The guildmaster turned, still wearing a warm smile.
"Yes, just a little conversation."
He looked at his daughter for a few seconds, then back at Genshiki with sharp eyes.
"By the way, when you were unconscious… my daughter said you looked at her strangely. As if you saw someone you knew. Is that true?"
Genshiki's gaze shifted, becoming slightly sharper.
He turned away from the girl briefly—silent, just for a moment.
His face was flat, but a faint glimmer flashed in his eyes.
"…That's none of your business."
The daughter froze, confused by his answer.
"But… I feel like… somehow, when I see you, I—"
"Don't continue."
Genshiki cut her off coldly, his tone pressing.
"It's just an illusion. Don't dwell on it."
Silence fell.
The night wind slipped between the three of them.
The guildmaster studied him deeply, as if trying to read hidden truths.
But in the end, he only chuckled softly.
"Hah… young man, you're truly unpredictable. Fine. I won't force your answer."
With casual steps, he turned back toward the guild entrance.
Before going inside, he waved a hand behind him without looking back.
"Oi, don't stay out here too long, you two. Night air's a bit chilly, you know."
Several adventurers peeking from the terrace stifled laughter at the guildmaster's teasing.
Some bowed their heads to hide grins, others nudged each other playfully, their faces full of mischief.
Genshiki only snorted softly, then turned and walked back into the guild.
Meanwhile, the guildmaster's daughter blushed deeply, unconsciously gripping the tray of drinks tightly.
Her heart pounded fast, though she herself didn't understand why.
A faint smile appeared on the guildmaster's face.
"So that's how it is… it seems old wounds still hold him back."
That night, the guild returned to its usual peace—
but a seed of a new story had already begun to grow, unnoticed by those within.
[End]