The first few days in the new house were quiet and uneasy. Meals were the worst of itâArslan sitting at the table, trying to smile through the silence while Elaine kept her answers short and polite, and Ludger ate as if nothing was out of place. The clinking of utensils often felt louder than the conversations.
But slowly, little cracks began to form in Elaineâs frosty exterior. She still kept her guard high, but sometimes her lips twitched when Arslan made a fool of himself retelling an adventuring story, and every now and then sheâd correct him mid-sentence without the sharpness she usually carried. It wasnât forgiveness, not yet, but it was a softening.
Ludger noticed it right awayâand it annoyed him to no end. Seriously? Leave for five years without saying goodbye, rack up debt, act like a bumbling idiot, and you still get to warm her up just because youâre easy on the eyes?
He stabbed at his food a little harder than necessary. Only good-looking guys can pull off nonsense like this. If I tried that, Iâd get disowned.
Arslan, of course, seemed blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in his sonâs head. He took every small smile from Elaine like a personal victory, puffing his chest out and grinning like heâd won a battle. Ludger wanted to roll his eyes so hard theyâd leave the back of his skull.
Still, even if heâd never admit it aloud, there was a small part of him that was relieved. As irritating as his fatherâs charm was, a house where his parents spoke like people instead of strangers was better than the icy silence heâd feared.
One evening, after dinner, Arslan leaned back in his chair with that grin Ludger was already growing sick of. He tapped the table with his calloused fingers, then looked at his son with a gleam in his brown eyes.
âHey, Luds,â he began, drawing out the nickname like it was already settled law. âHow about we do something tomorrow? Just the two of us. Father and son, you know?â
Ludger arched an eyebrow, spoon still halfway to his mouth. âLike what?â
Arslan leaned forward, lowering his voice as though revealing a grand secret. âI was thinking⦠fishing.â
Elaine, who was clearing plates, stopped mid-step. She glanced over her shoulder, lips twitching, though whether it was amusement or disbelief was hard to say.
Ludger, meanwhile, stared flatly at his father. Fishing? Thatâs your big plan? I could be grinding skills, training my body, or figuring out new ways to break the system⦠and you want me to sit by a pond and wait for a fish to feel charitable?
Arslan, oblivious to the storm in his sonâs head, chuckled and nudged his arm. âCome on, Luds. Itâs tradition! My old man took me when I was your age. A bit of peace, a bit of quiet, and maybe we even bring dinner home. What do you say?â
Ludger sighed through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. Peace and quiet, huh? More like hours stuck next to him while he tries too hard. Still⦠maybe it wouldnât kill me to see what heâs like outside of the house. If nothing else, I can level Patience as a skill.
Elaine set the plates down with a small smile. âIf you can keep him out of trouble, Arslan, then yes. Go fishing.â
Arslan pumped his fist like heâd just won a war. âHa! See? Your mother approves. Tomorrow, then!â
Ludger groaned inwardly, already regretting it.
That night, after his father had finished boasting about their grand fishing trip and Elaine had shooed him off to bed, Ludger lay staring at the wooden beams above his room.
Fishing. Father-and-son bonding. Heâd seen that in movies, read it in books, even overheard coworkers back on Earth rambling about it on Mondays. Was that really a universal thing? He was pretty sure this wasnât Earthâheâd made peace with that long agoâbut the overlap was weird. Humans, families, awkward fathers trying to connect with their sons⦠maybe worlds werenât as different as he thought.
He turned on his side, frowning into the dark.
Still⦠why me?
It was the first time the thought really hit him. Why had he been reborn here? Was there a reason? A hidden plan? Or had it just been some cosmic dice roll, a random chance that threw him from his old life into this one with a system no one else seemed to see?
The idea gnawed at him. If there was a reason, he hadnât seen even a hint of it. No divine messages. No mysterious benefactor whispering in his dreams. Just a system that rewarded him for learning like a maniac and punished him when he overreached.
And if it was a chanceâ¦
Ludger sighed, pulling his blanket tighter around himself. If it was chance, then it was up to him to carve meaning out of it. No overseer, no destinyâjust him and his stubborn will.
For the first time since his birth, he felt the faint chill of the question: Am I here to do something great, or am I just⦠here?
Ludger had decided that the fishing trip could serve a purpose after all. Sitting by the water with nothing to do but wait for fish sounded like the perfect chance to untangle the thoughts gnawing at himâthe why of his reincarnation, the purpose behind it, if there was one at all.
That plan fell apart almost immediately.
From the moment they left the house, Arslan never shut up. He talked about fishing knots, about âthe one that got awayâ when he was Ludgerâs age, about how his father used to swat him on the back of the head for scaring the fish with too much noise. Every step of the journey was filled with his voice, cheerful and steady, as if silence was a crime against nature.
Ludger sat in front of him on the saddle, staring grimly ahead, trying and failing to hold on to his earlier resolve. So much for peace and quiet. Next time, Iâll âaccidentallyâ bring earplugs.
For the first time, though, as they passed through the gates, he noticed something he had somehow overlooked in his years of short outings with Elaine: the city was walled. Thick, high stone fortifications loomed above, their towers bristling with guards and ballistae.
Ludgerâs eyes lingered on the battlements, a faint unease curling in his chest. Right⦠of course itâs walled. If dragons exist, you donât live in a city without walls. Guess I was too busy staring at people and grinding language to notice before.
The horse trotted along the road, Arslan keeping one arm steady around Ludgerâs waist. To Ludger, it wasnât embarrassingâit was annoying. Sharing a horse with his father, sitting snug in front like some toddler who needed help to keep from falling⦠It was humiliating in the wrong way.
He sighed through his nose, tightening his little fists. Forget fishing. Forget destiny. First chance I get, Iâm getting my own horse. Or better yetâIâll just run faster than one.
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Once they left the city walls behind, the world opened up into wide fields bathed in sunlight. Rolling hills stretched in the distance, dotted with patches of trees and the faint shimmer of rivers. Farmers worked the land, their carts loaded with sacks of grain and baskets of vegetables, while the occasional herd of livestock grazed lazily near wooden fences.
Ludger found himself staring, quietly mesmerized. Heâd seen the city streets, the tavern, the cramped houses, but thisâthis was different. Open, alive, full of detail he hadnât bothered to notice until now.
Arslan, of course, noticed his silence and took it as an invitation.
âPretty, isnât it?â his father said, his tone warm, almost smug. âThis areaâs safe. No labyrinths anywhere close, and adventurers sweep through every season to burn out monster nests. Thatâs why the farmers can work without fear.â
Ludger hummed, not bothering to look back. Safe, huh? Guess even this world needs its comfort zones.
But Arslan wasnât done. His chest puffed out a little as he spoke, his voice brimming with pride. âDonât get me wrong, though. Not every place is like this. There are forests where the trees themselves try to crush you, swamps where the ground swallows men whole, deserts crawling with beasts the size of villages. And thatâs not even touching labyrinths. Labyrinths are worseâfull of monsters that grow stronger the deeper you go, and some so twisted even veterans wonât step past the first floor.â
His brown eyes gleamed as he leaned closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. âIâve been to a few, you know. Not the deepest ones, but deep enough to know when to stop. And believe me, son, there are things out there you canât even imagine yet.â
Ludger glanced at him briefly, his lips twitching into a thin smirk. Of course. A seasoned adventurer bragging to his kidâitâs practically a script at this point. But still⦠dangerous monsters, labyrinths, swamps that eat people alive? Yeah, thatâs exactly the kind of place Iâll need to see for myself one day.
For the moment, though, he just nodded and let Arslan talk. If nothing else, the manâs stories painted the world in brighter, sharper colors than before.
For once, Ludger wasnât rolling his eyes at his fatherâs endless chatter. The mention of labyrinths had caught his attention. He straightened slightly on the saddle, his green eyes flicking up at Arslan.
âSo⦠what exactly do adventurers do? And labyrinthsâwhat are they really?â
Arslanâs grin widened at the question, clearly pleased that his son was showing interest. âAdventurers?â He tapped his chest proudly. âWeâre the ones who keep the world running. We hunt monsters, clear labyrinths, guard caravans, escort nobles, explore dangerous landsâpretty much all the important stuff. Without us, cities like ours wouldnât be standing.â
His voice carried the conviction of someone who believed every word, but Ludgerâs sharp mind chewed it apart quickly enough. So basically, mercenaries. Hired muscle. Just a bit more polished and less cutthroat than back-alley thugs.
âAnd labyrinths?â Arslan continued, his expression sobering. âThose are the real challenge. Theyâre monster lairs, created around places where mana gathers unnaturally. All that energy seeps into the ground, twisting the space inside. It breeds monsters like rabbits and feeds them, makes them stronger the longer they stay. Thatâs why labyrinth monsters are so much tougher than the ones outsideâyouâre basically fighting creatures living on an all-you-can-eat buffet of mana.â
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing something dangerous. âThe deeper you go, the worse it gets. Some say the bottom floors arenât even part of our world anymore. Just⦠raw chaos wrapped into a dungeon.â
Ludgerâs lips twitched, part smirk, part frown. So adventurers are just mercenaries with cooler titles, and labyrinths are glorified monster farms powered by mana. Dangerous, sure, but also the perfect place to grow stronger. And if the system rewards me for learning and surviving⦠then labyrinths might be the key.
For the first time in a while, Ludgerâs chest buzzed with genuine excitement.
As the horse trotted steadily down the dirt road, Ludger found himself listening more than talking. Arslanâs stories tumbled out one after anotherâlabyrinths he had seen, monsters he had fought, cities he had visited. The manâs brown eyes gleamed like a boy unwrapping presents, his voice loud and animated, as though every word should leave his son in awe.
But the truth was the opposite.
Ludger sat still in the saddle, his small hands resting on the pommel, his face unreadable. Inside, he was processing every scrap of information, weighing the facts, filing away details about labyrinths and monsters. The knowledge was useful, practical.
It was Arslan who was carried away with excitement.
Ludger realized, with a faint smirk, that their roles had inverted. His father was the one thrilled about the trip, buzzing with energy like a child eager to impress, while Ludger was the one calm and nonchalant, letting him talk without showing much reaction.
He couldnât even bring himself to blame the man. Once upon a time, Ludger had thought about what heâd do if he ever had kids. He imagined planning activities, showing off skills, making himself look cool in their eyes. But heâd never had the chanceâlife had crushed that dream before it even began.
And now here he was. A child again, sitting in front of a man who clearly wanted to play that very role.
The irony wasnât lost on him.
Guess we both got what we didnât expect, Ludger thought, his lips twitching into the faintest smile as Arslan kept rambling.
The trip didnât take as long as Ludger expected. Barely an hour out from the city walls, the dirt road curved down into a valley where a lake shimmered under the morning sun. Its waters rippled with a soft breeze, reflecting the sky like glass.
On the way there, Ludger had finally pried one more detail from his fatherâs endless chatter: the city they lived in was called Koa. Just Koa. It didnât sound particularly grand or meaningful, but Ludger didnât dwell on it. A name was just a name.
They tied the horse to a sturdy tree at the edge of the clearing, its reins knotted loosely so the beast could graze on the patchy grass. Arslan slung a small bag over one shoulder and, with his other hand, proudly carried two fishing rods as though they were weapons of war.
âCome on, Luds,â he said, grinning ear to ear, trying to whistle a tune as he walked toward the lake. The sound came out more like a wheeze than a melody, but he seemed satisfied enough with it.
Ludger trailed behind him, hands in his pockets, studying the calm water and the thick reeds that lined the shore. So this is it, huh? The grand father-son bonding moment. A lake, two rods, and a soundtrack of off-key whistling.
He sighed, shaking his head, but followed anyway.
In no time at all, they were settled by the shore. Arslan handed Ludger one of the rods with exaggerated care, like he was entrusting him with a relic, then planted himself beside him on the grass. The two lines cut into the surface of the lake with faint ripples, bobbing lazily as the water swallowed the bait.
It was obvious that a boat would have made the whole thing more efficientâfish usually didnât hang around the shallows, after allâbut it didnât matter. They werenât here to haul in dinner.
Ludger leaned back slightly, his small hands resting on the rod, eyes wandering beyond the water. In the distance, the horizon was crowned by jagged mountains, their peaks hazy under the sun. The sight carried weight, a reminder that the world stretched far beyond the city walls of Koa.
Above them, the sky was alive with movement. Strange birds wheeled and glided in all shapes and sizesâcreatures with wide, kite-like wings, some with long tails that flickered like banners, others flapping in tight, furious bursts as they chased one another across the open air.
For once, Ludger felt his muscles ease. The strange world, the endless grind, the awkward drama at homeânone of it mattered in that moment. The lake, the mountains, the birds⦠all of it gave him a fleeting but genuine sense of peace.
As the breeze rippled across the surface of the lake, Ludger sat with the rod in his hands and let his gaze drift beyond the horizon. The mountains in the distance, the strange birds crisscrossing the sky, the sheer openness of the fields around themâit all pressed on him in a way he hadnât noticed before.
He realized, with a faint tug in his chest, that he hadnât really paid attention to any of this world until now. His eyes had always been turned inward, on the glowing blue windows of the system, the slow grind of skills, the numbers ticking upward one at a time. When he wasnât training, he was helping his mother or grudgingly tolerating his father.
It was safe, simple, contained.
But as he sat there, the wide lake stretching endlessly before him, Ludger understood something: that wasnât enough. He hadnât been reborn into this world just to count numbers and scrape by in the corners of a tavern. His world had been no larger than a kitchen, a yard, a city street.
Now it was time to make it expand.
His small hands tightened on the fishing rod as he drew in a slow breath, eyes narrowing at the far-off peaks. âYeah,â he thought. âThis worldâs bigger than Iâve been letting it be.â
The thought burned in him, steady and certain. Whatever destiny or chance had thrown him here for, he wasnât going to find it staring at his status screen alone.