My grandmother was explaining the benefits of building a city from scratch. They’ve managed to give better locations to homes, buildings, and popular spots. There are neighborhoods dedicated to certain types of businesses, and there’s plenty of space within the borders to build houses in the future. The biggest problem is the long time it takes to populate a town.

  “Grandma, isn’t there another way to bring in more people?” I understand that waiting generations to increase the population is the norm, but there should be an easier method.

  “There is, Maki. Some nearby villages are destroyed by monsters, criminal gangs, or abusive nobles. After such disasters, people have the option to relocate, and a percentage choose to rebuild their lives in another town.” That makes sense. The real problem must be the mental and physical burden of relocating.

  “We always take in a certain number of people in that situation every year. It’s both a blessing and a problem. The good part is that our population grows, we gain more taxpayers, our workforce increases, and we can cover some gaps.”

  “What’s the downside?” She mentioned the benefits, but now I want to know the drawbacks. I may not inherit the territory, but I’m still a noble, after all.

  “There are so many problems,” she sighed. “Just imagine, those people arrive with no financial support. You get the elderly, pregnant women, or children. We have to solve all kinds of problems at once: build houses, offer jobs to those without physical strength, avoid conflicts with locals, assess whether they’re good people over time… an endless list of issues. But if you overcome all of them, it’s the greatest blessing for a growing territory.”

  “It sounds complicated. Now I understand why you’re out of the house all day. It’s not just about the increase in monsters.” I always found it odd. Everyone in my family living in this territory is of Ruby rank—the only monsters threatening to them are rank 4, which are nearly impossible to see nearby.

  “Maki, sometimes I need to look at you just to remember your age. You sound more and more like an adult each day.” How am I supposed to respond to that kind of statement? Technically, I’m not a child—if you combine both my lives, I’m over 25. I’m just living in a child’s body.

  “Try to have fun, little one. I don’t want to see you full of regrets in the future. If you find something exciting, make it yours.” My grandmother just looked at me from the side. I couldn’t even meet her gaze—I just stared at the dark sky, admiring the color of the stars while thinking about her words.

  Have fun like a child? That sounds hard to come by.

  “I’ve talked enough about grown-up topics. Now tell me how your hunt went.”

  I began my story from the moment I stepped into Mancor. My first construction job. I hadn’t heard my grandmother laugh genuinely in a long time.

  My first encounter with Randy and the teenager. My run-in with the first foxes, then the next ones, and how I got to the wolves.

  I could see her excitement growing with each part of the story. I tried to add enough detail to keep it interesting, but not so much that it became boring.

  When I got to the battle with the wolves, I added lots of detail—I even stood up and reenacted some of my moves. Through it all, my grandmother never asked a single question—she just enjoyed listening to her grandson talk about his first hunt as if it were his first day of school.

  When I finished, she asked a few specific questions—about my new concentration ability, my pseudo-mastery, and my magic.

  I answered everything as clearly as I could, and she simply nodded thoughtfully at most of it. I could already see the entrance to Talar.

  “Maki, do you want to start hunting daily?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “I’d like to, Grandma, but I’m not sure if it’s even possible. My shoulder’s still wounded, and I still feel a slight pain. If I keep getting hurt, it’ll become a problem.” I want to gain experience quickly, but I’m also trying to get some help without asking directly.

  “I completely forgot, little one. I’m sorry.” She pulled a small spray from her backpack, applied it to my wound, and I watched it heal at an unnatural speed.

  “Grandma, can I get a few of those sprays?” With some of those, I could heal minor wounds with no problem.

  “Maki, I can give you some, but let me explain something first. They only work on small injuries like scratches. If you lose a finger or an arm, this type of medicine won’t help. Secondly, it’s not advisable to use them too often—sometimes it’s better to let the body heal naturally. Lastly, don’t get too dependent on these methods—they could make you careless in battle.”

  I’m processing her words—each point is important. I’ll only use them in necessary situations.

  “I’ll give you ten tomorrow. Use them wisely, because they’re not cheap. Even if we’re nobles, money doesn’t grow on trees.”

  Those words got me thinking. I really need a job or a source of income.

  “You earned a few as a gift for your first hunt, and you’ve paid for a couple more with the small monster cores.”

  “Monster cores? I didn’t collect any, Grandma.” Wait... could it be?

  “You didn’t take them. Randy did. I explained it to him beforehand. Of course, you wouldn’t know where the monster core is, and you’d probably forget about them.”

  “So that’s what Randy was doing when he approached the foxes and wolves. I thought he was just checking if they were really dead.” Honestly, collecting the core makes more sense.

  “Yes, little one. Grade-one cores aren’t special—they’re not good for anything amazing. At most, you get enough money for food for a few days or weeks if they have some elemental affinity.”

  “Affinity? What’s that, Grandma?” I’m lost—more than usual. So much new information.

  “Just like humans, some monsters have elemental affinities. From rank three and up, some even have multiple affinities and some laws. From that point on, core prices skyrocket. They gain different functions and can be used to make specialized tools.”

  So my rank-one cores are basically high-quality trash. I wonder if I could hunt a rank-two one…

  “Aish, Grandma, that kinda hurts.” She must’ve read my mind—she flicked my forehead several times.

  “Don’t go thinking about fighting higher ranks. It’s not the time.”

  “Not the time? Does that mean I can do it later?” That’s interesting. My whole family always said the same thing: ranks are a power indicator, and the higher you go, the greater the gap.

  “Maki, you’re not the only talented person in this big world. You’re not the only genius or prodigy walking around. Plenty of people manage to fight those of higher rank. I don’t mean tens of thousands—it’s probably less than 1%, but that’s still a lot.”

  “Grandma, how did they manage to overcome that gap?” That’s valuable information—if I can simplify my path now, I’ll have more chances in the future.

  “Their talent allows their skills to blossom quickly, like in your case—unlike others who lack the necessary ability or foundation. That narrows the power gap between both sides. One has a weak base, and the other has outstanding skills.”

  “Maki, to be honest, I trust you. I’m sure of your strength and I know you can defeat a rank-two monster. The problem is the wounds—you won’t come out unscathed fighting a higher rank.”

  In the end, everything lately comes back to the same thing—injuries and wounds are slowing my progress.

  “I’ll keep it in mind. I won’t do anything stupid—I’ll only fight if there’s no other choice.” Those words earned me a head pat, right where she’d flicked me earlier.

  “Grandma, is there a way to get healing abilities?”

  “Yes, Maki, but those skills are usually obtained through luck or constant effort. First, let me explain something: there are four supreme affinities in this world—Space, Time, Life and Death.”

  Supreme categories? I’ve never heard of that type of magic.

  “They’re four categories that everyone has access to, though only a few manage to unlock them. There are a few ways to improve your affinity with them. The three most well-known are: practice until exhaustion and reach enlightenment in that category, obtain a skill like that by sheer luck in life, or tame a monster core in your cube.”

  Everyone has the potential for supreme affinities. The hard part is awakening them—only a lucky few manage it. I sort of understand the idea of achieving enlightenment through constant training. Luck always plays a role, too.

  But I’ve never heard of taming a core—that’s a completely new concept to me. My grandmother always gives me a bath of knowledge.

  "Grandma, can you explain more about the supreme affinities?"

  Her smile lit up under the starry night, and she looked up at the sky—I followed her gaze. The view was breathtaking. I could clearly see thousands of stars shining brightly above us.

  "Little boy, we've been talking outside for quite some time now. It's time to get some rest. Tomorrow, I'll explain everything in detail during our training."

  With those words, my grandmother walked back into the house, leaving me there, still staring up at the stars.