Chapter 342

342 – Time for Progress #2

According to my memory, Hippolyte’s handwriting is as neat as if it were measured with a protractor.

Thus, Hippolyte’s writing is easy to read. It’s akin to a computer’s meticulousness. Most of the documents in the Mars Guild’s announcements are probably written by her.

On the other hand, Elpride’s handwriting has a flamboyant flair.

Perhaps because her hobby is reading books in her own private space, her handwriting is diverse, free, and still carries a sense of beauty. Thus, Elpride’s writing can also be recognized at a glance.

And Luna—.

Luna’s handwriting is crooked like a child’s. Whether it’s due to her lack of manual dexterity, the size of the letters doesn’t match, and they wildly fluctuate.

Hence, one has to put considerable effort into deciphering the contents.

I got up from where I was lying and carefully deciphered Luna’s scroll.

“Hello, Hassan. If you’re reading this in the evening, it means I’ve left the city safely. By now, I must have left the city, boarded the carriage I had reserved, and gone far out of reach.

If I hadn’t, I would have come back to the city and snatched this letter from you. The fact that you’re reading this means I was able to make up my mind fiercely, doesn’t it?

Hassan, this sudden talk must be confusing to you. It was sudden for me too, and I thought that without much preparation, it might not make me too sad.

To be honest, I really don’t know. I’ve already revised this letter five times, and I don’t know what to say.

Anyhow, Hassan, open the fourth drawer on the second floor—.”

The content of the letter ended there.

I did as written on the scroll and opened the fourth drawer. There, I found a small bundle along with another scroll.

“Hassan, this in the bag is a health bead. It’s a small, solidified version of health potion. Take three pills a day – morning, afternoon, night – and endure the smell even if it is strong. After you’re done, go downstairs and open the pot where Keng Keng is—.”

The scroll’s content ended again.

I promptly went downstairs and opened the pot where Keng Keng was.

“Hiooong…”

Inside was a spider about the size of my palm, curled up. Judging from the mournful sounds it was making, the creature must’ve known that Luna had left.

Under it was yet another scroll, seemingly left by Luna.

“Hassan, if you’ve read this, that means you’ve reached the point where you can put your hand into Keng Keng’s pot. At first, I was terrified just hearing the rustling sounds from Keng Keng, but you’ve already overcome that— Hassan, you’re really amazing.

With that in mind, don’t overfeed Keng Keng. He’s barely lost some weight recently, and if he gains more again, he won’t be able to get married.”

And Hassan, now go upstairs and open the pillow. This is the last part—.”

Last part?

I felt quite regretful.

Still, I was curious to see what new story was written and walked up to the second floor again.

I picked up the pillow where Luna slept every day. It smelled like her.

When I opened the button securing the back part, fluffy cotton revealed something peculiar.

A doll?

It was a doll made from cotton and cloth patches. Small buttons formed its eyes, and pink yarn was tied into two strands that fluttered around.

I wasn’t too sure, but it seemed Luna had crafted a doll the size of her palm in her own likeness. Beside it, there was another small rolled-up note.

“Hassan, this is a pair of dolls we made together for protection. Since I possess a doll in the likeness of Hassan, I’d like for you to keep one resembling me.

It’s like a superstition in Ideope, but if two lovers who are far apart carry dolls, they might feel as if they’re together—.

And Hassan, don’t be too overjoyed and free while I’m away. I hope you’d miss me a little and feel a touch of melancholy. Occasionally, I’d like for you to think of me and shed a tear.”

The rest was written in even more crooked handwriting, making it hard to read. It wasn’t until I squinted my eyes that I managed to understand what was written.

“No matter how far we are apart, don’t forget me.”

With that, the story came to an end.

I looked at the letters Luna left for me, imagining the kind of thoughts that must’ve gone through her mind as she prepared for this departure.

I don’t know.

To leave suddenly to become an Upper Class Voodoo Priestess in Ideope?

I hadn’t even known that Luna felt so inferior. Looking back, I realized that she might’ve been feeling exactly what I once felt when I saw Luna getting more and more capable.

I wish she had told me something.

I felt extremely sad and lonely. I laid down Luna’s pillow, which slightly cheered me up as it still smelled like her.

But the smell will fade away eventually, won’t it? I wish Luna would return before then.

Bang, bang, bang—bang!

Keng Keng—! Keng Keng—!

When I regained my senses, someone was knocking on the door. Seeing Keng Keng bark on the first floor, it seemed like a visitor had arrived.

Not knowing when I had fallen asleep, I shook off my drowsiness and went down to the first floor. As I opened the door, a petite girl looked up at me.

For a moment, I thought Luna had returned, but seeing her crimson short hair, I felt a pang of loss.

“What is it, Spvel Paranoi? It’s still dawn, isn’t it?”

“It’s not still dawn—it’s already dawn! I thought Hassan might be alone, saddened by Luna’s departure, so I came here to play—!”

“That’s right.”

“Can you give me food? I’m hungry—!”

So Spvel came for food.

I clumsily got dressed, then left the house with Paranoi towards the street.

We headed to the Nymph’s Wings Inn, sharing grilled Bee with Paranoi, something we always ate with Luna. Luna loved it here.

Thinking about how we spent so many dates here made me a bit melancholic.

“Delicious…! Borrowed food always tastes the best—!”

“Well, eat as much as you want. I have the money to buy it now.”

Money.

It felt like just yesterday that Luna and I carefully divided a single Bee between us, scavenging for herbs and selling mushrooms to save money.

Now, I have the money, but Luna isn’t here.

At this moment, Paranoi spoke.

“Can we order a second Bee?”

Wait, Paranoi’s going to finish two all by herself? I was slightly shocked. When I looked at her in surprise, she said something.

“I’m in my growth spurt—!! If I eat a lot, I’ll grow quickly, and I’ll definitely become tall like that—!!”

Paranoi’s finger pointed toward Echo, the owner of Nymph’s Wings Inn.

Miss Echo, you always seem prettier every time I see you. Are you really a nymph? If you have some time, would you like to share a cup of tea…?

Thank you, but I am already married.

Streamwater Nymph, Echo.

She is a married woman with a mature physique and is regarded by all the men in this area as the quintessential attractive female.

Paranoi ate the grilled chicken in front of her with great enthusiasm, seemingly envious of Echo.

Though, I didn’t think Paranoi could become like Echo just by eating a lot, at least not right now.

Unless…

To lift her curse, I’d have to massage Paranoi’s chest. The very idea of me doing that to her made me feel strange, as if I were imagining touching my own younger sister, twisting my gut in an uncomfortable way.

“I’ll grow fast—!!”

Even so, back when she still had traces of a cultist’s temperament, she was a determined and somewhat abrasive person. And thinking about how she once tried to seduce me, I can’t help but wonder how she’s become this way now.

I asked,

“Paranoi.”

“Ah! All the legs are mine—!! If Hassan wants them, you can order another—!!”

“Spvel, stop being weird. Besides, Paranoi—.”

Hearing her name from me, Paranoi suddenly started trembling like she was quite uneasy.

“You’ve eaten a lot… now your stomach must be full. There’s no need to order more.”

Suddenly acting strange, it was like she was afraid I might berate her for something terrible she’d done.

I asked her,

“Are you doing okay lately? Are people bullying you because you’re from the Cultist?”

“It’s okay—!! I’ve made friends with many Nymphs at the Vestal Goddess’s Nymph Association—!! I’ll try to proselytize them when Hassan builds a shrine soon—!!”

“Proselytize?”

“By gathering Nymphs and making them sing like a troupe of bards—!! People will gather like clouds to see the Nymphs—!!”

The idea of gathering Nymphs to sing together reminded me of something I might’ve heard about near Delphi.

About how little Nymphs form idol groups and perform tours with singing; it was something like the Muse troupe, but I couldn’t recall clearly.

“Anyway, it’s good to hear that you’re doing well.”

“I hope that Hassan’s temple will be built soon—!! In that sense, are you going to look for sites today?”

“Yes, I should. Do you have the documents I gave you from Hippolyte?”

“Ah, here they are—!! Stored in a place where no one can steal them, where no one ever would—!! Bruuuu—.”

As Paranoi opened her mouth, a small scroll appeared. Every time I see this, it’s extremely unrealistic and unnatural, something I can’t quite adapt to.

“Hey, couldn’t you retrieve it in a more natural way?”

“If you want it quickly, I can spit it out—!!”

Paranoi spat something out. A strange pebble-like object rolled across the table.

Why is she storing pebbles in her mouth?

I turned my attention away from Paranoi towards the scroll she had spat out. It was slightly uncomfortable to handle due to the saliva, but there was nothing I could do.

“Master Hassan, my legs hurt—!!”

“Then let’s rest a bit at the nearby park?”

“And buy cotton candy—!!”

Paranoi and I visited every address listed on the document. Even though Hippolyte said she handpicked only those willing to sell land, we got turned down everywhere.

“Here lies Fluto’s legitimate and blessed son, Master Hassan—!! Quickly, give us the land—!!”

“Hahahaha, Fluto’s son? Are you telling me the God of d*ath can feel love? Look here, d*ath can’t produce anything. That’s why Fluto is the god of the underworld. Stop telling lies until you know what you’re talking about.”

“But it’s the truth—!!”

Take that, you fool!!”

This kind of exchange went on repeatedly.

It seemed that people couldn’t believe that the god of the underworld, Pluto, could have children, and neither could they believe that I, who had recently been known as the adventurer from Samaria, could be the son of a god.

“Everybody’s an idiot—!!”

Though Paranoi said that, I could somewhat understand why they felt this way.

As far as I know, a savior called Jesus also received complaints from his hometown, saying things like “You’re Joseph the carpenter’s son, aren’t you? We’ve eaten together. Why do you suddenly say you’re the savior now?”

Likewise, as my image as a Samaritan adventurer was strongly embedded in this small town, it was inevitable that I’d only receive strange reactions when I suddenly appeared claiming to be the son of Pluto.

In the end, there was only one area left.

A plot of land located in the far corner of the impoverished area near the West Gate. Taking Paranoi, who was licking candy, I moved again.

Pa-sht, pa-sht.

“Is anyone here? I heard someone was selling this land.”

Thus, I arrived at a cemetery. Vast grounds with graves scattered all over the place. Crude tombstones and plaques were covered in dust, abandoned.

This place was for unclaimed graves.

A dumpsite stuffed with nameless corpses, one could say.

Rife with rumors of ghosts and evil spirits, not even the vagrants and hooligans from the West Gate approached this eerie land.

A forgotten burial ground shrouded in eerie and suffocating mists year-round, left for those discarded by society.

There stood a man with a broad shovel digging into the ground.

“Excuse me—. Are you the caretaker of this land? I heard your land was listed as available for sale.”

Slick, Thud.

Hearing my voice, he finally plunged the shovel into the ground. A man with a wide-brimmed straw hat turned his head toward me.

I was startled.

The man’s face was horribly disfigured, as if he had suffered from a plague, making even me, who thought I had become accustomed to grotesque sights, instinctively frown.

It was impossible to tell if he was old or young, man or woman; his face was too damaged. Was he suffering from some kind of illness?

“Mr. Hassan! This person has corpse disease—!! The sickness will be caught, it will—!!”

Corpse disease? I’m not sure what that exactly means, but calming Paranoi takes priority right now.

“Shut up, brat!”

“Kyaaa—!”

Since this might be our final chance, I hastily gave Paranoi’s head a good smack.

“Sorry about that, he’s a bit immature.”

I apologized. Afterward, his half-closed, drowsy blue eyes opened wide, and he spoke with his cracked lips.

“Are you that Pluto’s son creating all the buzz? I heard there’s a guy scouting for land to build shrines.”

“Ah, the rumors have already spread?”

“The rumors are bound to spread. Pluto having a son—who would’ve thought? He’s a devil incarnate, bloodless and tearless.”

“Devil incarnate?”

“Because of that, he knows nothing of love. Ruling over the underworld filled with corpses and the sick, naturally he would be like this—.”

The caretaker glared at the scattered tombstones around him. The underworld filled with corpses and the sick—perhaps there isn’t much difference between this graveyard and that place in a way.

Surely, such a place as this graveyard would never see affectionate emotions rise.

So what will finally happen? Thinking this man also disapprove of me, and that perhaps we can’t buy the land after all, I became slightly tense, when the man spoke.

“If you are truly Pluto’s son, arranging this graveyard should be easy for you. Just yesterday, about ten corpses were dumped here—.”

Slick.

He pointed to something hidden beneath a tarp-like object. There, clearly visible, were some ghastly corpses.

“What should I do with them?”

“As the son of Pluto, you must surely be capable of necromancy, right? Make them dig their own graves—. If you show this proof, there is no reason why we cannot sell you the land.”

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