Vol 1 Chapter 5 – Childhood – Autumn at Age Eight

A Virgo pilot—known for her reputation for being downright creepy—once said, “I’m weak when it comes to enduring things.” But could it be that my own lack of endurance comes from being born in early autumn?

Now that I’ve reached my eighth birthday—quite unexpectedly, the Line Empire’s calendar turns out to be solar. That means this planet’s scale is roughly the same as Earth’s—and when I check my stats, I’m constantly reminded of my unsavory traits.

No, it’s different. When I looked at the skills unlocked by various actions, I kept thinking, “If I have this, it’ll be versatile… and it’s surprisingly cheap,” and before I knew it, I clicked to acquire it.

You know how it is, right? For major purchases you deliberate carefully, but for something as light as a paperback book, you end up buying it with a casual, “Hmm, that’s fine.”

And then later, when I saw the real bill from the credit card company, I muttered, “Huh?”

Because of that, throughout the year I ended up spending recklessly.

Now then, let’s review my achievements. They’re all traits in the <Body> category.

《Cat’s Physique》
A trait that grants a supple, soft body. It makes injuries less likely, greatly improves my ability to take a fall, and gives me both resistance to submissions and a bonus to acrobatics. It also grants a bonus for safe landing from heights.

《Resilient Skeleton》
A trait that develops a robust, nearly unbreakable bone structure. It reduces the chance of injury, greatly enhances my falling technique, and provides a bonus for landing safely from high places.

《Cat’s Eyes》
A trait that enhances my eyes for better night vision. Even by the light of the stars alone, I can read text with ease.

《Steel Stomach》
A trait that gives me a powerful immune system. It provides resistance against spoiled food, off drinks, and toxins.

Yeah, the body is important. I mean, you wouldn’t want to fall down the stairs and die instantly, would you?

When you think about it, isn’t this a fine lineup for living a healthy daily life? Even if I acquired most of these traits impulsively.

I got 《Cat’s Physique》 and 《Resilient Skeleton》 to keep up with the ever-intensifying play with Margit and the other kids. Out in the country, whether it’s hide-and-seek or roughhousing, the games are just too wild.

I picked 《Cat’s Eyes》 because they weren’t effective enough during my side jobs, and I took 《Steel Stomach》 after a fig I nibbled during forest play tasted a little off and made me uneasy.

Hmm—just listing these reasons shows how little planning went into acquiring them.

But I haven’t completely lost my common sense. I didn’t even dabble in those high-cost professional skills.

And it’s not as if I’m entirely irrational. A sturdy body will always be useful no matter what I do in the future, and in an era without streetlights, having good night vision is all gain and no loss… well, except for maybe accidentally catching my parents “getting cozy” at night.

So, this is the predetermined course. Surely.

In fact, I’ve been steadily honing my basic endurance and memory as planned—so much so that there’s been almost no “damage.” As planned, my future self is set to reach about 180 cm in height, and I’ve successfully allocated my traits and stats so that training makes my body muscular and toned rather than bloated.

And then, I even indulged a wish to become a slightly slender, good-looking figure like my mother. But unfortunately, the “Beauty” stat—like innate traits—is untouchable, so I gave up. I even tried, as a sort of futile rebellion, acquiring traits like 《Mother-like》 or 《Soothing Appearance》.

Taking everything into account, my overall stat rating—with my lowest being Strength at an <Average> level—is better than I expected. I had hoped that by the time I was about ten, my stats would at least hit a provisional target, but it looks like I’ll reach it by next year.

I confirmed it a bit late, but after boosting my memory and reasoning skills, I found that tasks started yielding proficiency much more easily. Perhaps it wasn’t mentioned in the footnotes, but it seems there was a hidden feature—a masked data—that accelerated the rate of skill mastery when one has a capable mind.

Now that I think about it, I recall that in that game where you wander through post-nuclear America, the higher your Intelligence, the faster your stats grew. In other words, it’s built into the system.

Lost in thought at my usual spot—reflecting on my unexpected efficiency and feeling rather pleased—a sharp sensation shot along the back of my neck. It was that third-person sense granted by the 《Presence Detection》 skill. The fact that I could feel footsteps and even breathing this close meant it wasn’t a family member.

More than anything, the presence was coming from “above the barn.”

Without overthinking, I leaped forward. Then, with an incredibly small sound and a faint tongue click, I landed on the pile of firewood where I had been sitting just moments before.

“Too bad.”

When I turned around, there stood Margit with a face of genuine disappointment. She had grown a little taller since last year, but still not enough to look two years older. Yet the way she casually discarded her 《Presence Detection》—which she had boosted all the way to 《Mastery》—was impressive; her skills were progressing at a pace that left me in awe.

“Just come and play normally,” she said.

“I just can’t get going unless I do this,” she added, using that refined courtly language I’d recently heard at our private academy, all while pursing her lips.

Hmm—it seems she deliberately does these cute gestures, knowing just how adorable they are. Honestly, they’re so cute I can’t complain—but looking at that expression makes me feel pathetic for being rendered speechless.

I wasn’t even supposed to be into lolis, though…

She stepped aside and patted my designated seat, urging me to sit down. Even though she looked every bit like a child, there was something inexplicably seductive about every one of her movements.

Yielding to her invitation, I sat down, and—as if it were perfectly natural—she climbed onto my lap. For some reason, we remained facing each other.

It was what you might call a face-to-face sitting position.

But I’m an innocent child—completely pure—and so I don’t entertain any lewd notions. Pointing it out might only invite a whole lot more unwanted attention, so I just let it go.

I later heard that spider-people are basically a female-dominated species, and like other species where females are in charge, their views on chastity and gender are the complete opposite of ours. There’s even a strange custom where—even among their own kind—they never live together when taking turns.

“So, what’s up?”

“Hmm? I just felt like looking at your face, somehow.”

With an alluring smile, her words took on a deeply suggestive tone. The way she tilted her head slightly while smiling made any man’s head spin—if it weren’t directed at a ten-year-old, that is.

“What’s that supposed to mean…?”

“I’ve finished my chores and now have some free time. And you?”

“I’ll be getting busy soon enough.”

Since I celebrated my birthday in early autumn, it means that it’s nearly time for the second busy farming season—the harvest.

From reaping to threshing, shipping—and barely a moment to rest—plus countless tasks like wrapping up the fields before the snow falls, there’s no end to the work. Because these tasks affect the entire family’s livelihood, I’ve allocated a good deal of proficiency in various agricultural skills, knowing none of it is wasted.

Even so, with a family of six, one draft horse, and help from relatives and neighbors, it’s still backbreaking work. On top of that, as a token of thanks, I have to lend a hand to our neighbors, and then sell the harvest in a tax system that demands both cash and in-kind payments. It’s as if the leisurely summer was merely the cost for the tidal wave of labor that follows.

Even though I’ve pushed my endurance and durability up to <Excellent>, just the thought of this little body creaking through the season makes my stomach ache. Still, a household with plenty of strong hands—and horses—is considerably better off.

“That’s right. Yes, we’re also entering our busy season.”
Margit giggled as she said that, and being born into a hunter’s family, she was bound to be extremely busy from autumn to winter. She had mentioned that by this year she’d be given a bow and would stick close to her parents to learn the basics.

“We have to play a lot while we still can, don’t we?”

“Just the two of us?”

When I asked, suspiciously, she immediately transformed her smile into a nearly tearful expression—a remarkably skillful change.

“You don’t mind?”

Then, in a cascading whisper that trailed along my spine like delicate feathers, she murmured. No matter the age, a woman is still a woman—but isn’t her skill improving a bit too quickly? Or are all spider-people like this?

Like most men, I am weak when it comes to women, so all I could do was shake my head.

Or rather, could it be—I don’t consider myself insensitive, but is this some kind of flag? Where did I step, and what did I do for such a connection to be added to my item list? I don’t say I dislike it, but isn’t an interaction between a man nearing forty and a single-digit arachne utterly perverse?

What kind of twisted GM is rolling the dice?

Not wanting things to spiral into an awkward situation, I actively steered the conversation to change the subject. Even if I didn’t mind, I am eight years old and must observe proper boundaries.

“Then, tell me what you’re learning at the academy.”

“At the academy?”

Curious, I asked, and her nearly tearful look instantly melted away, replaced by a head tilt in the opposite direction. So cute.

“Yeah, everyone says it’s boring, but I’m curious about what you’re learning.”

At first, I had planned to learn a lot from my older brother, but he ended up only complaining, so I gave up quickly. Although our father had sternly instructed him and he was in the process of learning court language and writing, the history, poetry, and arithmetic lessons he received were utterly ineffective. By the time the autumn labor is over and academy classes resume in winter, he would have forgotten it all.

“That’s right. Our usual curriculum includes court language, literacy, various laws, and then history and poetry.”

In reply, Margit spoke in fluent court language that clearly showed she was studying diligently. Her parents and teachers must have insisted that she use it regularly so that her polished speech would never slip. It was a far cry from the childish language or lower-class dialects that my brother and I used—it had the elegant, lyrical intonation of Imperial language.

“That sounds fun! Hey, teach me.”

“Hmm? Alright, I’ll teach you.”

Our father had repeatedly told my brother that to advance in this world, mastery of court language was nearly indispensable. That’s why I wanted to learn it too, but Father was always busy, and my brother—needless to say—hadn’t mastered it, so I never got the chance.

That’s why I saw this as an opportunity to meet the prerequisites for mastering it.

Because, just like magic earlier, some skills are locked and simply cannot be acquired through self-study. Whether it’s a school of swordsmanship, magic, or knowledge of languages and law, it’s all the same.

Probably, even in a TRPG system, you can’t create something out of nothing or conjure knowledge from scratch that you don’t already have. The fact that learning the Sage skill is so easy must mean that the complicated process of finding a mentor and reading books was cut out. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to learn a language for a mere thousand points.

“Alright, then, let’s start with the language.”

“Yay! Thanks!!”

I joyfully expressed myself in that childlike manner, relieved that I could finally speak in a way that matched my inner self. Even though I thought in proper Imperial language, when it came to speaking, I always ended up using childish words, and it never felt right.

“Alright, here we go.”

“Eh…?”

I was stunned by her sudden odd behavior. Why on earth was she opening her mouth as if to show off, sticking out her tongue? And then, invitingly, she ran her finger along it.

“Margit…?”

As I stood there, confused about what she was doing, she mischievously laughed and took my hand.

“Court language is all about pronunciation. The shape of your tongue is entirely different, you know? My teacher taught me to insert a finger into the mouth of a proficient speaker to learn the proper tongue position, and then mimic it by holding a finger in your own mouth to get the same sensation.”

Of course, the teacher never allowed it, but for some reason, her giggling made her seem oddly intimidating.

And then, before I could even ask, I was suddenly struck by the slippery sensation of her finger…

【Tips】Sometimes, learning from others increases your proficiency—and it might even change your skills or traits.

As the tough, busy farming season was drawing to a close, the couple Johannes and Hannah were troubled by another challenging issue.

They had been so busy that they hadn’t been able to oversee Heinz’s court language studies, and as a result, everything he learned over the summer had completely slipped his mind.

Students who have attended the academy for several years are expected to personally greet the district magistrate in early spring. At that time, it is customary for each one to present a poem in court language.

This greeting, celebrating the arrival of spring, is known as a gateway test throughout the land. The nobles love to secure promising talents early, and it’s not uncommon for them to continue sending those who show ability from a young age to the academy even as they grow older.

There was a chance he might be recognized by the magistrate and become a bureaucrat if luck was on his side, but Johannes and Hannah didn’t expect that. They loved their son, but they never expected him to be a prodigy.

At the very least, they were happy if he didn’t draw too much attention by being overly impressive.

However, on a day after the harvest work had finally calmed down, when they tested their son, the parents were utterly dismayed. They wondered if he could ever catch up in just one winter.

One night, as they huddled together for warmth against the chill, their youngest, well-built son suddenly approached with his chest puffed out.

And he announced that he had composed a poem to honor them.

Apparently, the youngest had been learning court language from his friends and had been preparing to honor his tired parents. They were both surprised and pleased, and they listened intently to the poem he recited.

It was a rough but well-crafted poem. His choice of words was childlike, yet it honestly conveyed his sincere heart, and his intonation—neither distinctly boyish nor girlish—was charming.

It was a perfect poem—a perfect blend of impeccable pronunciation and a traditional lyrical style.

And it was delivered in equally perfect “feminine court language.”

After his performance, with a look that seemed to say “So, what do you think?”, the two parents were left speechless for a long moment.

Apparently, for the remainder of that winter, alongside the eldest son who was learning court language from their parents, a spot was also reserved for the youngest son, whose expression remained one of bafflement.