Looking back upon the brittle tinder that is my life, the dissimilarity between these children and myself is as plain as night and day. You simply cannot compare their thoughts and actions with that of when I was around their age. You will always come up with a null value.

So in the end, what am I? How did I become this fortified husk that roams the land; Not quite a man, not quite a beast. This is one of the questions that has ruled my consciousness, ever since I first picked up a book and learned of what kinds of things humans really are… Of course, to no avail…

It might seem needlessly philosophical to be contemplating these pivotal factors of life. However, I am looking at it from more of a clinical standpoint. The first step in battle is to know one’s enemy. I will never rise from this black bog until I am able to take that first step.

Well… Whether I live in the stricken past or the merciless future, I shall always be shadowed by the vileness of the [Black Corona]. This I am sure…

“Hey hey, look Mister! It’s Bronzegate! Yay! We’re finally home!”

Like a weasel or a snake, the shrimpy brat that lays draped across three sets of laps, worms around in a rambunctious frenzy. Having caught sight of our destination, it appears to be beyond the mortal capabilities of this annoying pest to keep herself under control.

With no other options, the results of the previous event have turned out thus: I have unwillingly received an obnoxious baggage, amounting to six pesky nuisances of various shapes and sizes. Each, as bothersome as the last.

I will just have to think of this as a compulsory escort quest. Hence, points may be deducted depending upon the state, or quantity of the goods remaining upon arrival.

Though that may be the case, the size of the reward for rescuing all six of these brats from an armed guard, and dragging them back to their damn orphanage will be negligible nonetheless.

Rather, the demerits of this venture will most certainly outweigh anything like that. Which is why I was planning on leaving these brats back there in the first place. All my carefully planned steps somehow land on loose soil, which crumbles beneath my feet like a crag eroding into the sea.

But I will not falter. No, despite having been saddled with even more unnecessary burden, I will persevere. After I anonymously drop this rabble off at the orphanage, I can be on my way to the market at last. I will pretend like it never even happened.

This method should cause the least amount of friction, and allow me to cover my tracks. It is not without drawbacks, however, as it was necessary to apply [Hypnosis] upon each of the six brats. To them, it will seem as if they were saved by a nameless, featureless hero. Thus, my great deeds will tragically go unsung.

Which is just how things should be. I do not need a bunch of loudmouthed brats spreading rumors and alerting anyone with more than half a brain of my presence…

“We’re hooome, we’re hooome, we’re hoooome!”

“Quit squirming, brat!”

‘Thump’

“Bu!”

Using my right fist, I bop the forehead of the incessant chatterbox which rests on my lap. As there had not been enough room for all of them, the youngest of the six was chosen to become a makeshift lap-warmer. Unfortunately, the off button seems to be malfunctioning.

“Ueee, bonked! Temr’s going to dieeeeeeeeee! Noooo!”

Death can be arranged, if that is what you really want…

“Hush, Temr! Do not cause trouble for the kind gentleman who has rescued us.”

The oldest child seems to have the least temperamental personality of the lot; A certain urchin brat included. The speed at which she has adapted to the situation has been very helpful. As it stands, I am not the most articulate of persons.

If it was not for her, I would have lost much more time explaining the entire situation. Not to mention trying to get these recent abductees to believe a word I say. She seems to be the kind of person who would be quick to make friends. At least, that is what I think.

Whether they honestly trusted me, or not, I still would have applied [Hypnosis] upon them. Carelessness will only beget further misfortune…

As we near the looming construct that is the walled town of Bronzegate, the murmur and bustle begins to pick up. The traffic here, even more so than in Fort Wayfield, is steady and droning. Coupled with the familiar lack of security checks, I feel like this country has its priorities in disarray.

The walls of Bronzegate are quite similar to those from Fort Wayfield. They may be slightly taller and wider but, in structure, they are the same. The gate, however, is something much different.

With an intimidating maw, the arch, shaped like the top half of a gear, is paneled with brass-colored sheets that look to be able to block out even the strongest and wildest of beastkin. This town is rather aptly named, it seems.

“We’re almost there, we’re almost there! Hurray!”

(Travelling with such unruly company really takes a toll on my psyche…)

Having previously milked these brats for information regarding this place, I already know where to leave them. Off the main road, in the western residential district, a certain orphanage rests upon a dingy terrace. It is removed from the street and hidden by a row of trees, but the gate lies adjacent to the sidewalk, so it is not too difficult to find.

To avoid detection, I pull up to the stand of trees, rather than the gate itself. My mission clear has finally come…

“Get out…”

““Ehhhhh!?””

Like some kind of comedy routine, an instant reply comes from over half of my passengers. For some reason, the urchin brat is included in this number. This has nothing to do with you, so why are you chiming in as well?

“But… Weren’t we going to bring them all the way there? The Orphan Matron will certainly want to thank the one responsible for saving the children.”

“Hell no… T-too much bother.”

“Oh…”

Why would you care anyway? Are you so shallow that you require such self-gratification? How ridiculous, especially coming from a street urchin like you. Do not tempt me child; I will dispose of you if you become too much of a burden.

“But, but… Can’t Mister come in for just a few minutes? Temr wants to show everyone the Mister who saved us.”

You cannot even perceive what I look like right now, thanks to [Hypnosis]. Besides, going into that place would require me to also apply [Hypnosis] upon each and every person I should meet. Just thinking about that makes me exhausted. Not to mention, the side-effects of using that much power would be highly detrimental.

“Um… I would also like to properly thank our gracious savior inside, but… If that is too much, then I guess there is no helping it.”

Even the oldest one is saying such things? You disappoint me oldest one…

“I am a-afraid I c-cannot… For I have m-much left I must take c-care of…”

Guh… Why do I even need an excuse for this? Just get out of here already, you vile pests! This little circus show is drawing far too much attention as it is. If you selfish brats continue to linger like this, it will eventually be necessary for me to use force. For that matter, why have I not done this in the first place?

(Using [Hypnosis] in public is dangerous… I suppose that is the foremost reason…)

“Very well. We shall be on our way. Come, everyone, let’s not cause the kind gentleman any more trouble.”

““Okaaay!””

Finally… Freedom…

‘Phew…’

“Hmph! Don’t act all big, you jerk… If it wasn’t for me, you definitely would have left those girls back there to die!”

That is certainly a plausible assertion; Though, while that was my initial intention, I find it hard to believe that demon-eyed girl would have let such a thing pass. Still, your sore remarks do not interest me in the slightest.

As of this moment, I shall be putting all of my concentration into the next steps I should take. This includes the acquisition of funds, buying the things I need, and finding a place to stay for the night. Due to funding being a prerequisite for everything else, the only logical route starts from there.

Now, if only they have some kind of casino in this town I will be set…

------------

The metallic clatter of a dense forest of gears beckons ominously around me, as I unsteadily become attuned to my bearings. How or why I have suddenly ended up in this place escapes me. But from what I can tell, it is akin to some sort of exaggerated clocktower.

The entirety of the room is draped in darkness, save a small amount of light leaking through a crack in the ceiling. I can just barely make out the top few rungs of a ladder from so far away, so I assume that the light I see in the distance is seeping through the gaps in a trapdoor.

I still have little idea as to what is going on. From what I remember, I was just about to leave, after having completed that escort quest… And that about sums it up…

There are no memories between when I picked up the reins, to having ended up here. Like some kind of time slip, or something…

“Hmmm… Let me think about this a little… Is this perhaps because of [Falling Owl]? No, that seems unlikely. Whatever the case, I doubt that fellow would be capable of bringing me to someplace as obscure as this… Then that leaves…”

A dream…

If I am dreaming then I must be asleep. Taking into consideration what I have learned last time this sort of thing happened, it is safe to say that moving around carelessly in this state would indeed be a terrible idea.

‘Sigh…’

“How bothersome…”

Just when I was finally getting somewhere I have to put up with more of this shit…

“This must be… Bullying? It is, right? Give me a break. I do not have time for…”

‘Kchik’ ‘Creeeeeak’

(Ah… It seems my time of fraught introspection has come to an end…)

Along with the stirring sounds of movement, the hatch slowly opens, letting light wash over the surroundings. Just like I thought, this room is one big mechanical construct. Even the floor is covered with massive gears, while I stand upon a thin, suspended catwalk. The overwhelming magnitude of the scale is quite a sight to behold.

Whilst I am in the midst of scanning the room, a figure drops down from above, clad in a pure black, metallic sheen. The collision of mesh catwalk and armor resounds in an echoing shrill.

(So the stage has now been set between this dark, forbidding knight, and myself…)

“Finally, we meet!”

The astringent, grainy voice lends itself to the overall menacing aura emitted from this armored entity. If my condition were not such that it is, I might very well be intimidated by this dangerous seeming fellow. In the end, the whole scene feels a bit damp, as I have no context for this encounter.

(Is this perhaps one of those precognition types of scenarios? I do not remember having such specs…)

“Verily, it does appear so…”

(Hoooh? I spoke? Or rather, I did not speak, but yet have spoken? And with such bravado. How intriguing…)

Actually, upon further investigation, my wardrobe seems to be that of the [Raven’s Garb]. In which case, I am currently assuming the false identity of [Falling Owl]. Then this person is most likely a member of the Guild of Judgement. Hmmm… I do not feel comfortable with where this is heading…

“Though, I must say… You certainly do not know when to give up…”

“Hunting is an important part of the process.”

What a troublesome fellow…

With a crawling pace, the distance between us decreases, as my counterpart slowly draws near. I would obversely retreat from this advancing villain, except that moving is not advisable when I cannot predict the consequences. Instead, I shall implicitly observe my opponent's actions and mannerisms. Unlikely as it is, there is always a chance that I could discover a weakness of some such. I have low expectations though…

“I had heard you were going to be a difficult character, but frankly, to have followed my trail this far is a bit excessive.”

“Don’t waste your breath. You won’t escape this time; I know your tricks!”

“I admire your attention to detail…”

A haunting specter… Adorning two vicious-looking scythes upon its back. That is just about the only way I can describe this person. How would someone even fight with two of those things anyway? That is a two-handed weapon, you know…

“Where might your squad be, I wonder…? Is it a good idea to come here without backup?”

“Those fools would only be a distraction against someone like you. Besides, I wanted to take my time, nice and slowly, picking all the meat from your bones piece by piece. I just can’t enjoy myself when there are other idiots getting in my way. Ha ha ha ha… Don’t worry, I promise it’ll be fun.”

“…”

This person is definitely one of those; And a hardcore one, I might add… How unpleasant… Just how did this me end up in this kind of situation? Fortunately, this is not an ideal combat location for someone who uses those kinds of weapons. The narrow metal catwalk, hanging from the ceiling on supports, also has a metal guardrail. It is simply infeasible to handle something so massive in such minimal space.

Be that as it may, I also do not have enough room to dodge if this person were to make a plainly vertical swing, barring a backstep that is. However, that is not even an option in this case, as it involves being able to move in the first place.

Perhaps I should just let myself be captured? Since this is either a dream or some sort of vision, I can just go with the flow. As long as I do not consciously move my body, [Falling Owl] should behave himself. Although, this is all merely baseless speculation on my part.

I sincerely doubt this person would be willing to accept an out-and-out surrender. Let us not sour the good mood we have going here. It might even be possible to glean some useful insight into the events that have led up to this particular point in time.

“Oh well, to think our little game of cat and mouse has finally come to an end. I was really hoping to get to know you better.”

“Ah, what a coincidence. My babies have been dying for the chance to get to know you better as well. Let’s hope you won’t be a disappointment.”

Nope. This fellow is useless, aberrant even. There is little point in even trying to speak with this pervert…

“Shall we get this over with?”

“Gladly!”

Removing one of the scythes from their back, the bloodthirsty knight grips it firmly. This person’s intent to kill is telegraphed quite vividly from their purely attack-oriented battle stance. The distance between us having been reduced to about four meters, it appears our conversation has ended.

“Now, bleed for me!!”

With a heavy thrust, the scythe shoots straight towards me. It does not connect with my being; However, I can feel the wind pressure as it is forced out of the way at extreme speeds. Using the elastic momentum, the scythe is then drawn backward at a higher velocity.

Again, the elastic muscle fibers are used to store the energy, while at the same time, the knight’s body pivots and launches itself into the air. Next, adding the returning forces of the elasticity onto its momentum, the scythe travels in a deadly overhand crescent around the somersaulting knight.

Thanks to the technique, the blade slices through the air faster than I can even keep track of. In such a confined space, the fact that this much momentum could be obtained is utter absurdity. Despite the personality, the skill of this person is unquestionably formidable.

Of course, I am cleanly severed down the middle. This is inevitable since I cannot dodge such a ridiculous thing, regardless of whether the situation was to allow it. Just what part of that was entertaining?

Well, no matter. Instead of an agonizing death, I immediately awake in a foreign bed, completely unharmed.

“Unpleasant…”

Was it a dream, or a vision? I am leaning towards a vision. So who was it…? Who sent me this vision, and for what purpose did they send it? Or is it just another one of the many byproducts of the [Black Corona]? I would really like some answers… Furthermore, where have I ended up now?

This place appears to be some kind of mass sleeping area. There are many tiny beds in a row on both sides of the room, each one separated by short dresser drawers. Out of all possibilities, it is likely that I have been brought to the orphanage upon passing out.

Unsurprising… Are all of these cutscenes non-negotiable? Is there some kind of higher order to this universe that finds it amusing to place me in situations entirely unbefitting of someone such as myself? What imbecile is constantly trying to override all of the careful and meticulous planning that I have been doing? I want to meet them and let them know just how unsatisfactory I believe their intentions are.

But first, I wish to leave this place before anyone notices. I absolutely refuse to be any part of this foolish charade. The window, the window…

“Ah! You woke up. Thank goodness! I was so worried when the children said that something had happened to the kind gentlemen who saved them. Thankfully you had just passed out… Um… Sir?”

I can still make it. There is still time. Yes, just ignore that idiot and escape through the window. Then I can search for Tomorrow and the coach and finally be rid of this dreadful place… Fruitless effort…

(Ah, how bothersome…)

“How bothersome…”

“E-excuse me…?”

“E-er, no… I mean…”

“Are you quite alright Sir? You still look a little pale.”

Do not patronize me, you ingratiating succubus. Ugh… Woe is this day that I must fraternize such as this. Who do you think you are, a saint or something? By no means am I thankful for your having brought me here.

Because of this unfortunate turn of events, I now have matters I must attend to in this place. I cannot leave any traces of the deeds that have transpired. I was hoping to avoid this, but it seems that placing [Hypnosis] upon these individuals has become obligatory.

“I am fine now…”

“That’s good.”

This woman, is she supposed to be the orphan matron? Her blond hair is done up like a businesswoman, but she still looks sort of young for someone who runs this type of establishment. Perhaps she is just a hired hand?

No… On second thought, this woman is one of those, right? An elf…? Her ears are exactly like I would have imagined of their kind. In that case, she could possibly be older than she looks. At the very least, I am now fairly certain that this is, in fact, the orphan matron that those brats had been prattling on about.

Nevertheless, I have no business with this person besides altering her memories. I would also like to know how many of the occupants of this orphanage might have seen my face. No trouble…

“W-who b-brought me here?”

It is unlikely that those scrawny brats could have dragged my unconscious body all the way here. That said, this small-framed woman would also have been incapable of such a feat.

“Don’t worry. I told Hill, the man who helps out around this orphanage to carry you. It was no problem at all.”

“I see… I h-hope I did not s-startle any of the c-children…”

Hmm… Three errors in a single sentence. I really need to practice speaking out loud more. As I am now, my speech pattern is too conspicuous. Being a recluse for so many years seems to have caused strange discrepancies in the way I talk.

“Rather than startled, the children seemed ecstatic to have a visitor after quite some time. I had trouble shooing them away as they wouldn’t stop crowding around the bed in curiosity.”

“Is that so…”

Or in other words, every single one of the children in this orphanage has seen my face. To err on such a tragic scale… Is my luck stat zero? All of my points must have gone into intellect…

‘Sigh…’

My best course of action will be to start with this Hill fellow. Simple deduction suggests that he will pose the greatest threat, and therefore should get him out of the way as soon as possible.

“H-hill, was it?”

“Yes, Hill is the one who helped move you here once I’d heard that you’d become unconscious. If you’d like to meet him, he should be watching the children.”

How favorable. Having everyone together sure makes things easier on my part.

“I would like t-to thank him… If at all p-possible…”

“Of course! Besides, the children would love it if you’d introduce yourself.”

Pushy woman! Her words are coated with a sickly sweet nectar that entices the listener into complacency. If I was not always on guard against such things, I might just have been thoroughly drawn into her pace.

This is not good. Change of plans. The most logical conclusion would be to finish off this sly-mouthed woman while we are still alone. The control she holds over a conversation is much more of a threat than brute strength could ever be.

(To have such a skill with words would be a very useful thing indeed…)

“Horrence Trapp…”

“Parden?”

“M-my name…”

“Ah! My, where are my manners?”

Her look of genuine distress is curtailed by the myriad of less obvious hidden objectives she undoubtedly holds.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Trapp. My name is Meluid Telsy. I am Matron to the children of this establishment. I’m honored to welcome you to our orphanage.”

Along with her introduction, the harpy reaches her imposing talons towards my being as a show of cordiality. There is a significant pressure from her firm stance as if she has just drawn a sword and is resting the tip upon my throat.

How is this person a matron of children when her demeanor is as cutthroat as someone who braves the stormy seas alongside the slick sharks of commerce? It is genuinely challenging to deny her offer. Challenging… But not impossible.

Rather than falling prey to her goading, I curtly bow in reply. All the while keeping strict watch as to how my opponent should react. Without missing a beat, she returns my gesture. A benevolent smile graces her visage as she neatly couples her palms together.

Even a machine would have had trouble saving face in that sort of situation. Frankly… This woman is a monster. All the more reason for me to slay the beast while it is alone.

------------

As I make my way through the creaking corridors of the facility, I am made aware of one thing above all else. While it does have a very lived-in atmosphere, the meager state of this place is most evident.

There is obviously little funding behind this ramshackle establishment; With any paltry sum it may receive certainly not going towards repairs or renovations. It is becoming ever clearer as to how this woman has ended up the way that she is.

At the end of a long, narrow hallway, two large doors sit crooked on their hinges. Beyond them is supposed to be the main hall, but even this holiest of rooms just barely makes a passing grade. Actually, on second thought, it definitely fails… If I make any wrong moves, this building is liable to collapse upon itself. Though that would be the end of my troubles, I have assets here which I would rather not leave behind. I had best get this over with quickly, and quietly.

In the center of the large room lies a great table, which in comparison to the rest of the furniture I have seen around, is in moderately good condition. If this was the only object one were to see whilst visiting, it is understandable that one might possibly be fooled.

Many little heads bounce feverishly about, whilst their bodies sit surrounding the grand-ish table. It appears that all the miserable little orphans have been gathered into this one room, as they rummage about the table’s contents.

That said, upon the table are only heaps of sticks, whittled down into serviceable lengths. Though, the children seem to be sufficiently amused by such things. Some of them are making pictures out of the twigs, while some of the older ones are busy weaving them into shapes to wear as makeshift jewelry.

(How facile…)

Though I have tried to ignore it, my attention is unfortunately drawn towards one end of the table, where a hideous ogre sits frolicking amongst the children. The sheer incongruity of this scene has caused my faculties to lag for several seconds despite the heavy upgrade they have received since arriving in this world.

I assume that abomination must be the creature that carried me into this mess in the first place. What was it… Hill or something? This ogre is aptly named to the point of utter non-commitment.

“The largest man I have ever met”, does nothing to explain the scale of this monster’s imposing proportions. There is easily the volume of fourteen of these children contained within its frame.

Yet somehow, the children seem wholly unconcerned with such matters, treating this monstrosity as they would their favorite uncle who has finally come for a visit. It is a most grotesque display. So much so, that somewhere deep inside me, there is a primal urge to kill this monstrous beast. Preferably with some kind of crudely fashioned spear or ax…

(Brace yourself, Wade. Do not give in to such baser instincts, no matter how tempting they may be...)

Somehow managing to control my outrage at this detestable scene, it suddenly dawns upon me that the man named Hill may, in fact, be what this world refers to as a “Wintir”; Or in simpler terms, a half-giant. Frankly, his frame and skeletal structure are beyond what can sanely be classified as human to begin with, so there is no wonder I am thrown off by his appearance.

This poses a problem. Is a Wintir going to be susceptible to [Hypnosis]? If I consider the possibility that [Hypnosis] only worked on that witch due to her having a human as her base form, then there is no conclusive evidence to suggest that it will work should I use it on this fellow. Then again, if I waste time contemplating such things, I will lose the initiative.

Most of the children have yet to notice my presence. It is not as though I made any effort to conceal myself. I quite blatantly strolled right through those double doors. Rather, these children simply have an abnormal amount of interest in their handicrafts. Not that I can complain. This way, it will be easier to catch all of their attention at once.

(From the look of the light streaming through that bleak looking window, I would say it is about noon. I should hurry if I want to make it to the shops in time.)

“Good Afternoon!”

With a somewhat forceful greeting, each of the little nuisances that had been completely absorbed with their business, turn towards my voice. Upon doing so, each one, in turn, becomes locked in a powerful hypnotic trance. Even Hill stops in his tracks as he catches sight of my visage.

A terrible pressure builds within my head, much more vivid than any other time I have used this ability. Momentarily, my skin begins emitting wafts of steam, as the symbolic veins of darkness stretch themselves substantially beyond their usual destination around my temples. Further and further, eventually reaching all the way down my arms to my fingertips.

When enough poison accumulates inside my body, the process of transferring this malicious power into a hypnotic mist commences. Most of the children are induced with only a mild usage of power, while a select few drain a moderate amount instead. The reason for this discrepancy is most likely related to the child’s race, as the only ones that require additional trouble are the ones with obvious inhuman traits.

The Wintir, on the other hand, requires a significant amount of mist to make a proper induction. So much so, that I start to doubt its efficaciousness against him in the first place. Just for this one man, a massive cloud of black particles is produced, filling the entire room with its ominous presence. All of the contents of this dark cloud are forcefully drawn into his eyes with the suction of a furious tornado.

Once the mass is absorbed in its entirety, the Wintir’s eyes dye the characteristic shade of black, before returning to their original white and hazel. The technique has been successfully applied. Though it took way more effort than usual.

(My head is ringing. I feel extremely sick… Damn ogre...)

I have used this ability far too many times today. Alas, I had to cover my tracks. Now that I have applied [Hypnosis] upon the residents of this orphanage, I can safely go about my journey without having to worry about any of my information being leaked to outside sources. Incidentally, I have also secured a place to sleep tonight.

Ingraining the standard [Commands] into a group is much more convenient than doing things individually. There is no need to repeat myself each and every time, as I do not use a specific subject when explaining what it is I want of them. Each believes I am speaking directly to them when I am in actuality speaking to the group as a whole. Thanks to this, the whole process is a breeze.

“[Release]!”

Now released from the [Command] state, the children gradually begin to notice my presence. One by one, the snot-nosed little brats crowd around me in a malicious circle.

“Mr. Hero!”

“It’s a real Hero! Hahaha.”

“Yay!”

The brats clamor about like an unruly mob. One particular child even grabs my hand and shakes it about vigorously. These pathetic life forms have clearly not been trained properly. I have no time for this charade.

“Silence!!”

With a roar, I defuse the entire situation. The children which had been so eager to invade my personal space, have shrunk back in terror from my outburst. Even the older children look rather distressed as they collect the smaller ones into their protective clusters.

“I am H-horrence Trapp.”

Silence fills the entire room. Not a single one of these children have any idea how they should react. Even the Wintir remains in his chair, utterly baffled. Nevertheless, a certain urchin child seems to find her misplaced voice.

“A… Are you retarded!? What kind of idiot scares a bunch of kids like that!? Was that supposed to be an introduction? That was freakin’ messed up!”

Like I have the time to spend on meaningless crap like that. These children are just numbers; Numbers with inconsequential values that could not possibly be any more irrelevant to me at the moment. If I waste even one millisecond more on these trashy brats, I will undoubtedly be swarmed by the Guild. If such a thing were to happen, this place would become a war zone. And you can bet that when that time comes, these useless orphans can kiss their asses goodbye.

“A-anyways… Time to go.”

Leaving these words, I turn to exit back through the double doors. The Orphan Matron is diligently standing to my right. Of course, I have her on [Mute], since her words are dangerous. She has a weird expression on her face; Consternation or some such. Not that I care.

“Wait, what!? Why!? We just got he...!”

“I n-need supplies.”

The urchin brat tries to yap on about some useless nonsense, but I cut her off. She is becoming a thorn in my side. My headache is pounding, and her constant nagging is ripping right through me. If I could, I would put her on [Mute] as well. Though that might just give her another excuse to annoy me.

As I make my way through the worn-out hallway, I am soon accompanied by a flock of bothersome creatures. One of these is the urchin brat, most likely having realized the futility of attempting to reason with someone like me. Apart from her, there is also a group of three children; One boy and two girls.

“W-what is this…?”

Being followed by a bunch of orphans… Am I the Pied Piper? This is really cumbersome. The girls are two of the ones that I rescued from those slave traders, one of them being the mouthy lap-warmer, and the other being the disappointing oldest one. The boy is just some random brat amongst those that were in the main hall. His dirty red hair has some kind of cat-ears sticking out. Is this brat supposed to be a Therianthrope?

“Is Mister shy?”

The lap-warmer presents an utterly obtuse query. When I turn to give her a skeptical glare, she flinches and hides behind the oldest one. Even the urchin brat is looking at her with eyes that say “Are you stupid?”...

“I-it’s just that Mister always messes up his words, so Temr thought that maybe Mister is really shy.”

So misguided...

“Also Mister didn’t want to come inside earlier, even though he saved Temr. That must mean Mister was too shy to introduce himself, right?”

This child is as dumb as a bag of stones. No wonder she got kidnapped.

“Pfft! Hahahahaa!! Did you hear that? She said you were shy! That’s too funny! Kahaha!”

Annoying… Remind me later to severely punish this useless brat...