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#042. Old stories and links (4)
The second completed stone was as smooth as the old man’s.
“I’ll try again.”
The third stone was smooth as polished marble, superior to the old man’s, and several times larger, fitting tightly in his hand.
By getting a feel for magic in real time, he surpassed the old man’s skills in just three attempts.
“Great. Can you try this next?”
“yes.”
Knock knock!
“Where is this too.”
“yes.”
Crap!
“Is this even possible!”
“yes.”
Knock knock! Knock knock!
The old man could not hide his excitement and surprise.
He demonstrated several techniques using gray mana, and each time the stone changed shape into various forms.
Flat shapes such as spheres and cubes.
Objects of varying complexity, from cups, picture frames, to vehicles.
The boy carefully observed how the old man handled mana.
Crap!
It didn’t take more than three attempts to complete any shape more elaborately than the old man’s.
‘her….’
The old man was once again in shock.
I definitely expected it to some extent.
If the boy were to create a circle and use purified mana, he would show much greater skill development than others.
Even before creating a circle, you can easily move the difficult to handle elements of maintenance and continuity.
Wasn’t he also the boy who could immediately tell the difference between the two elements?
‘That’s why I thought. When the tool in his hand changes, the skill this child shows will definitely increase beyond comparison.’
But this was beyond imagination.
So much so that I was ashamed of myself for daring to predict the level I would reach.
Magic is something that can have vastly different levels of perfection depending on the ability to manipulate elements, even if the same amount of mana is used.
When viewed from the perspective of today’s elderly.
The boy’s skill in handling the elements was impeccable.
“Great. This time….”
After that, Ray created several more shapes under the old man’s guidance.
At some point,
“… … .”
The old man’s voice was not heard.
When I glanced up, I saw the old man with his eyes closed.
Regular shallow breathing.
A face that is tired but exudes great satisfaction.
Veronica laid the old man down on the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest.
Squeak─ bang.
I left the room with Ray and quietly closed the door.
And then he looked straight back at Ray and his eyes sparkled.
“You’re really amazing! How on earth do you do that?”
The scene where the boy used magic was still vivid in the girl’s mind.
‘How did you do it?’
The elaborate and delicate seven-story clock tower in Ray’s hand turned to dust and flew into the air.
How did you do it?
That was the kind of question the boy couldn’t answer.
Because the magic used in the room was not based on any formula, but was purely based on intuition.
The old man used magic.
I just followed it as it appeared.
To make that understandable, we should start by explaining that mana has visible colors.
…it was a long story that I wasn’t confident I could make her understand, and I didn’t trust Veronica enough to tell her that yet.
“Just do it. That’s enough.”
“Tch, is that because you don’t want to teach me?”
“No, really, yes.”
Veronica, who had been pouting, soon smiled.
“Yeah. Anyway, you’re amazing. Really, really amazing. Of all the wizards I’ve ever seen, you’re probably the most skilled. Oh, I’ve only seen you and your grandfather as wizards, but anyway.”
It didn’t seem to matter what the answer was.
Veronica chattered for a while with her eyes intoxicated with lingering emotions.
“This is really great!”
“… … .”
“How can you use magic so easily? You don’t even know the theory!”
——————
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“… … .”
Ray, who was looking at Veronica’s bowl, listening to her admiration with one ear and letting it go out the other, suddenly felt something strange.
‘I can’t see it.’
Among Veronica’s mixed emotions, envy was definitely evident.
But there was another emotion that always appeared alongside envy:
“veronica.”
“My grandfather used to say every day, ‘You can never do anything without a theory… huh?”
“Are you jealous of me?”
“Uh… yeah. Right…?”
It was natural to feel jealous.
He completed a chain that he had been unable to make for a long time in less than a minute.
But at the moment, I felt more embarrassed than envious.
‘What the…? Are you asking such a question out loud? Are street children usually this direct in their conversation?’
I thought about it for a moment, but it didn’t seem right.
Street life is a time when you have to be more careful with what you say because you are exposed to a lot of danger.
Rather, wouldn’t it be more convincing to say that this quiet and handsome boy in front of you just has a unique personality?
“Don’t you hate me? Are you annoyed by me? Are you angry at me?”
Look at this.
Even now, he asks strange questions with that serious-looking face.
Are you bragging?
I don’t think he’s the type of person to do that.
Rather, it seemed closer to something like pure curiosity.
“Um… not really.”
“Or maybe I feel like it should have been you who succeeded in creating the circle, not me.”
“Are you asking if I’m jealous?”
“That’s right. Jealousy.”
Ray nodded slightly.
Envy and jealousy have one thing in common: they appear when we see someone who has something we don’t have.
Although they may seem similar at first glance, there is a clear difference in that jealousy is an emotion based on envy.
Because jealousy is an emotion that appears as a mixture of hatred, irritation, and anger that accompany envy.
Envy is the desire to have what someone else has.
Jealousy is the feeling of wanting to take away what that person has.
Both were emotions that Ray had defined in his own way.
“Eeeeeeeeeum.”
Seeing Ray’s serious face, Veronica felt like she had to answer seriously too.
He frowned and stretched out his words, then answered as if he had reached a conclusion.
“I’m envious, but I’m not jealous.”
“Why?”
“Well… because we’re friends?”
Veronica stared intently into Ray’s eyes as she said those words.
‘Come on, tell me you’re my friend too.’
It was a truly terrifying gaze, but the boy, who had lost his wits, did not notice it.
“Friends don’t get jealous?”
“… Not necessarily. I think that’s usually the case.”
Ray was silent for a moment.
Then he nodded as if he had come to some conclusion on his own.
“I understand. More or less.”
“You are such a strange kid.”
Veronica said that and turned around, walking briskly towards the stairs.
Ray did not deny that.
Instead, he spoke to Veronica’s back as she walked away.
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
*
Ray and Veronica sat across from each other at a table on the first floor of the bookstore.
“You want me to teach you how to write?”
“Yeah. I want to read a book.”
Ray felt that there was a lot he didn’t know about the world.
In a way, it was natural.
I have never left sector 50 in my entire life, and I have lived with a narrow perspective, not paying attention to anything other than what is necessary for immediate survival.
But now things are different.
The moment we left Sector 50 and entered the wasteland, the boundaries of the world expanded.
And that boundary would continue to expand as we continued our journey up the Elton River.
‘I need knowledge.’
There was a need to quickly fill in what I didn’t know about the world.
And fortunately, this was the perfect place to do just that.
Just looking at the bookshelves surrounding me, there were over a thousand books on various topics, from art to practical books.
In other words, all kinds of knowledge were waiting to be picked up by someone like coins on the street.
There is so much of it that you can’t pick it up even if you bend over all day.
Before leaving Sector 49, I will cram as much knowledge into my head as possible here.
Because once you acquire knowledge, it will be helpful at some point.
Also, writing was a skill that I had to acquire, even if I didn’t necessarily intend to read books, considering my future journey.
“Isn’t it difficult to teach writing…?”
Veronica’s words suddenly became interrogative.
If I think about it, I’ve always been taught by my grandfather, but I’ve never taught anyone else.
‘I did help my younger siblings with their studies.’
But that was only to the extent of filling in what was lacking after grandfather’s lessons.
‘Can I teach well?’
Questioning oneself.
But soon he shook his head.
It was foolish to be afraid without trying.
Also, it was better to shake off the depression by doing something than just sitting around in a dark bookstore.
Besides, the boy is also a benefactor who protects the bookstore.
“Okay. I’ll teach you! I can’t open the bookstore anyway and I have nothing to do.”
“Bookstore door.”
“huh?”
“You can open it.”
What does this mean?
I can’t open the door because of the rocks flying in every day.
Veronica, who was tilting her head, suddenly noticed something strange.
‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any kids throwing rocks in a few days. Could it be that what Ray is saying now has something to do with that?’
“They won’t show up again.”
Veronica’s heart sank at Ray’s words that came to her mind while she was thinking.
Earthquake-shocked pupils and trembling voices.
I asked as cautiously as possible.
“Killed… Huh?”
“Throwing a rock at a store doesn’t kill anyone.”
Are you saying that if there had been a greater reason, he would have been killed?
Veronica felt dizzy at the way the boy, who lived in a world completely different from her, spoke.
But soon excitement and thrill began to bloom in my heart.
Veronica saw that Ray wasn’t the type to joke around or play pranks.
Most of the words that came out of his mouth carried considerable weight and had some reason behind them.
…I ask strange questions sometimes, but anyway.
There must be some basis for saying that it is okay to open a bookstore.
What happened?
Did he meet children on the street who were throwing stones and threaten them?
“Are you sure you can open the bookstore? Are you sure they won’t show up anymore?”
“okay.”
Ray nodded.
If he shows up, I’ll go find Zephyr and make him pay for ignoring my warnings.
It was absolutely unacceptable for him to ruin the space where he would learn magic and fill himself with knowledge.
“Okay! I’ll have to get the door ready to open as soon as class is over today!”
It was the first time in a month and a half that a bookstore had opened its doors.
Veronica, with a big smile on her face, hurried up to the second floor and came down carrying a bunch of books and notebooks.
thud!
The amount was so significant that the desk shook violently the moment I put it down.
“These are the textbooks I used when I was learning to write. Here are also notes I organized while writing.”
“How much did you study?”
“Hmm. A month?”
Considering the thickness and number of volumes of the textbook, it was a very short period of time.
That’s partly because Veronica has great understanding, but it’s more like the result of an enormous amount of effort and dedication.
Because Veronica was the one who would study late into the night on the first floor every day while her grandfather and two younger siblings were asleep on the second floor, and then fall asleep right away.
It was an innate desire to learn.
I felt relieved when I had to doggedly grasp onto concepts that were difficult to understand and digest them as my own.
Also, whether I was reading a book or studying, I had to complete a certain amount of study each day to feel satisfied that day.
“It usually takes about a month to finish studying the text?”
Ray had no idea about the amount of material and the duration of the study.
In sector 50, there was no reason to study in one’s entire life, and one never saw anyone studying.
“It depends on how hard you try. Usually it takes much longer than that. Well, in your case… .”
Veronica trailed off as she recalled a compliment she had once heard from her grandfather.
“That’s great. You definitely have a talent for languages. No matter how much effort you put in, if you don’t have talent, you won’t be able to achieve this level.”
That’s what my grandfather said.
It is said that it usually takes an average person more than a year to learn how to read and write fluently.
‘But Ray doesn’t seem like a normal kid.’
Ray has already shown us many surprising performances.
Especially magic.
I don’t think magic and language have much to do with each other, but it was true that I felt a sense of anticipation.
“… I don’t think it will take long. It will probably take about the same time as me or even less?”
“I’ll try to study hard for now.”
“Okay. Then, before we start class, there’s something I absolutely have to do.”
Ray, straightening his posture, watched the slight hesitation in Veronica’s bowl.
‘It seems like you’re trying to ask for something.’
At first, I assumed that the reason Veronica readily accepted my request to teach me how to write was because she thought of me as a friend.
One of the definitions of a friend is someone who helps you without expecting anything in return.
However, it seemed that since the ability to read and write is an advanced knowledge, they had no intention of giving it away for free.
Should I ask you to pay the tuition?
Should I ask you to help out at the bookstore?
‘Maybe I’ll commission a hit on the Zephyr gang.’
It doesn’t really matter what you say.
Because I was going to repay you for the class in some way anyway.
Ray asked.
“What do you need to do?”
Veronica’s right arm stretched out into the air, her index finger pointing to the ceiling.
His right arm slowly fell forward without bending, and his index finger came to point towards the stairs visible behind Ray’s back.
“Go wash up. There’s a bathroom on the second floor.”
Veronica smiled at the sight of Ray covered in dust and blood.
*
─I’m washing up! I’ll go buy some clothes!
As the footsteps grew distant, the sound of the bookstore doorbell creaking could be faintly heard.
Ray, who had been paying attention to the sounds outside, soon came to his senses and looked around the space he had entered.
A clean-looking bathroom with white tiles all around.
A hook protruding from the wall and a metal hose hanging from it caught my eye.
“… … .”
This was probably the first time I’d been to a place with proper shower facilities.
‘I think this is being manipulated.’
Ray unhooked the hose from the wall and looked around.
Most street children, desperate for survival, did not pay much attention to hygiene and cleanliness.
Although some unusual children have been known to befriend shopkeepers and get a chance to wash in their bathrooms, Ray has never felt the need to do so.
On a clear rainy day, getting soaked is all there is to a shower.
The hotel’s facilities are limited to urinals and sinks.
Because of this, Ray had to take a moment to explore the unknown object that appeared before his eyes.
‘The tip is hard. It would be good for hitting someone’s head on. The rope looks like it could be used to wrap around a neck and strangle them.’
Creak.
Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to operate.
As I turned the lever on the wall, water began to flow from the round end of the hose.
Ray quickly figured out the principle, attached a hose to the joint at the top of the wall, took off his clothes, and placed them in the corner of the bathroom.
When I turned the lever again, a torrent of water began to pour out.
It was cold water at first.
A chill ran through his body, but Ray did not move and stood still.
This temperature didn’t feel that cold.
I got used to the cold because I was often exposed to rain, and after I almost died from frostbite once, I hardly ever caught a cold.
Swaaa …
The water stream began to rise in temperature according to the initial lever position.
A stream of steam ran down the boy’s well-trained, yet scarred body.
“… … .”
It wasn’t the cold water that Ray reacted to, but rather this.
The warmth that soaked my whole body was a very new sensation, something I had never experienced before.
I couldn’t help but close my eyes and surrender to the feeling, which wasn’t too bad.
Swaaa …
The various things that had been covering the boy began to wash away and fall away.
The ashen dust that was tangled in my hair.
Bloodstains and stains all over the face and body.
I also carried a debt of gratitude on my shoulders since Sector 50, even though I didn’t realize it, just a little bit.
Like metal that regains its shine after its rust has been removed, the boy turned pale in the water stream.