The next seven days flew by like lightning. A growing sense of normalcy and rigid structure allowed me to take to this new life so easily. What really helped was Sekh’s pretty face. She was the first thing I saw each morning, which meant waking from slumber couldn’t have been easier. I loved this Lionfolk from the bottom of my heart, and we couldn’t roll out to face the morning with a quick kiss and a few minutes of cuddling. The day wouldn’t feel right unless I told her I loved her. It was the same for her.  

And then there was Irisa and Ichiha... A beautiful oni and her mother, who had taken to my chimerism and accepted me as a friend. Without fail, the two always wished us safety, with the former giving Sekh and me a goodbye hug. This song and dance never failed to happen. Sometimes, Ichiha would tease her daughter when we left, causing her horns to very lightly turn a blushing shade of red. The color was so faint that only I barely saw it happen. 

 Breakfast was always a joyous time. Eating gave me biomass, so I used the time to practice transfiguration by covering my forearm in the soft undercoat of a Forest Boar. Sekh and Irisa liked that a lot because it was fluffy, and Tilde enjoyed rubbing her cheeks on it. It still didn’t compare to Sekh’s fur, though. That was the holy grail of softness and my goal.  

During our ventures into the Mines of Gamor, Sekh’s armor and her expert use of [Taunt] allowed us to venture down to the bottommost floor, where we saw more of the same. The only difference was the addition of a Lesser Scatter Bat, a monster that attacked using [Supersonic]. It had no eyes, so it used echolocation. During our first fight against them, Sekh reacquired [Power Strike], a single attack that used mana to build up strength to unleash a devastating blow. 

The bats were no match for her raw strength once I restrained them with my webs, and they were awfully prevalent. They continued pestering us when we came to the boss’s chambers, but we didn’t try to fight them without being sufficiently prepared. 

After assimilating a Lesser Scatter Bat, I used the skill against a goblin. It was stunned, crying out while covering its ears. 

It was a shame it didn’t see its death coming. 

But [Supersonic] was handy to control the flow of battle. It paired great with [Fireball], which I managed to level up twice this week. It grew more powerful and malleable, but that was the limit without [Mana Language]. I still couldn’t charge and use it multiple times back-to-back because my mana was still weak, so I mainly relied on the spear I had made when I first met Sekh. Even if it was durable, it eventually broke on me, and I used Yaekira’s daggers until I had a chance to go to the forge with Irisa and make a replacement spear out of metal. 

That took a couple hours, but because I had given a good amount of iron ore to Irisa, I had to mine some more. The dungeon used mana to regenerate its resources, so until it disappeared, iron would always be found within the Mines of Gamor.  

However, something felt...odd. In my world, and I had only just remembered this little fact while working with Irisa, melting iron until it was molten was how you created castiron. It wasn’t the best material for weapons since they were brittle and prone to break. Cast iron was commonly used for cooking pans and decoration, and it wasn’t the easiest thing to melt them back into ingots to try again. Too much would be lost in the process. Tilde, the ever-loveable teacher, pushed a pair of invisible glasses on her nose and explained. The reason was the element of mana, which did not exist in my world. It gave metal new properties they wouldn’t have otherwise had. So, the iron we collected and used could have been called miron, which stood for ‘Mana Iron.’ But the system of this world, when I used [Analysis] on it, referred to it as ‘iron.’ It was a small detail to know, and I was happy to have this mystery solved.  

This opportunity, though, gave me the excuse to make my own stone pickaxe, which was carved stone crudely wrapped around a wooden handle I had witted out of a sizable chunk of wood I bought from Ichiha. My webs were extremely sticky, so I used that instead of string or cloth. It worked well. Even if they were weak, [Artificer’s Arsenal] allowed me to summon as many copies as I wanted, so that was moot. 

But as for the actual forging process of the spearhead, it still wasn’t as good as anything Irisa could make. My edges were wonky, I didn’t leave it in the oil long enough to harden, and the shaft I had carved from wood had a slight edge, but it was progress. The weapon worked wonders for what I needed it for. In fact, the wonkiness of it all led me to discover a new technique. If I connected a little bit of string to the spear before throwing it at an enemy, I could retract my web to return it to me. By repeating it over again, and if it didn’t break, I always had something to attack with. In situations where goblins, spiders, or those bats cut the string, I brought out Yaekira’s daggers and threw those. It didn’t matter if those were swatted aside or thrown away because I could recall them with my mana. 

I didn’t want to rely on the ceremonial weapons more than I needed to because finding someone to maintain such gorgeously crafted instruments of death cost an arm and leg. Irisa refused when I asked her because she didn’t trust her ability to give my weapons the care they deserved.  

I still wanted to make a mace and shield for Sekh, but I wanted to be more adept at the process before taking on that task. She was quite happy with borrowing a mace, and Ichiha wasn’t upset at Sekh using the merchandise because she knew she would make a lot of money once she sold the shirts.  Still, I felt bad because I knew Sekh was extremely cheerful when I offered to make her equipment. 

Six days after I told Sekh I loved her, I vocalized my crafting worries. We were cuddling after a round of sex when she straddled my waist, held my cheeks within her hands, and asked me what was wrong because I seemed kinda out of it. She just listened while I complained about my test attempts to make her mace. If it wasn’t deformed, it was warped and lopsided. Sometimes, I hit too hard and couldn’t fix it, leading me to scrap it and start again. “You’re doing the best you can, Master. I’m proud of your efforts,” she whispered into my ear after laying her chest against mine. I wrapped my hands around her back and moved them to her supple ass. She was soft all over, and Sekh ate up my affectionate rubbing and returned it by pressing her lips against mine. 

Gods, she was so pretty. When Sekh leaned up after the kiss, I canceled my night vision to witness her beauty when only the gorgeous moonlight was there to illuminate her in a lovely glow. Her gray skin was softer than silk—her hands as warm and as comfortable as liquid gold. 

“Sekh?” 

“Hmm?” She looked down at my face with a smile, her hands still cupped around my cheeks. 

“If I were to start sewing, would you wear what I make?” She nodded. “Even if I made underwear or dresses? I know you don’t like them—” 

“I’ll wear, use, and eat whatever you make, Master. I trust you with all my heart.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. Sekh, I love you,” I whispered. We just had sex not even ten minutes ago, but I couldn’t remain flaccid when I had someone like Sekh in front of me. Leaning up, I cupped my lips around her waiting nipples and sucked to my heart’s content. My hands squeezed and massaged her breasts, fondling them all over. 

“I love you too, Master,” Sekh replied, rubbing my hair affectionately while trying to stifle her moans so as to not wake up Tilde. We ended the night carving our desires into the other’s body, eventually climaxing in a tender embrace where she hugged me tightly against her chest as her scent lured me to a deep slumber.  

---

The next afternoon, Sekh, Tilde, and I were sitting at the kitchen table to explain the strange sight we saw earlier in the dungeon. Irisa and Ichiha listened close while waiting for a pot of water on the stove to boil. 

“Wait, so you saw a blue cyclops? That half-breed? The same one you mentioned before?” 

I answered Irisa. “Yeah. She was in rough shape, with blisters and gashes down her arms. Her face had bits of flesh missing. Even her ears were mutilated, and she was malnourished, too. But then new wounds appeared on her, and she was sitting alone near the back of the lobby.” 

“Like a drunk, she started chugging potions like it was going out of style,” Tilde added. “But her HP barely regenerated.” 

Sekh finished us off. “We encountered Gloria’s Soul Warrior. She took a goblin’s spear to her unarmored chest, but there was no damage. Her hammer channeled lightning and fire to fill the chamber, but she just walked through the flames as if they weren’t there. But when we left, the Cyclops had a hole in her chest. And her legs were charred to a crisp like charcoal. Her eye had these burn marks around them. The potions were doing...something, but they weren’t doing much other than keeping her half-dead.” 

“Oh my… How sickening.” Ichiha covered her mouth.  

“It just gets worse. Black bumps, scabs, cuts, and burns? Seemed like she had a broken wrist because she couldn’t lift the potions. Even her tail was gone, and most of the scales she had the last time I saw her looked like they had been plucked off with a knife or something. It’s just a splotch of red flesh where they used to be,” I said, taking a sip of my water.  

I was going to kill Noelia. The reason wasn’t as admirable as saving someone in need because I didn’t give two shits about that one-eyed half-breed. No, assimilating Noelia would grant me power and SP. If I was hopeful, I’d progress in the [Soul Armatization] skill. And denying Gloria a Soul Warrior wouldn’t hurt, either. I’d never met her before, but I knew her death would be by my hands. She was probably a rotten woman, but one with power befitting a Holy Lord. If I could acquire that, I’d be in much better shape to take on Meruria. 

We chatted for a few more minutes, and Ichiha asked us to pick some peppers while she sprinkled herbs in the pot of water. It wasn’t quite night, but it was a pleasant early evening. Especially when the ocean breeze cooled everything down. It was a nice walk filled with lovely chatter, and I honestly couldn’t complain about anything. I wanted to believe that life could be simple... 

But it wasn’t. Life was never simple. It always had a hundred different obstacles it could throw at you if it felt like your life had been too easy. The ball thrown by reality curved at the last second, choosing to strike Irisa right in her astonished face.  

“Dad?!?! What… What’re you doing here…?” she asked, shocked when we returned to the kitchen. I heard a man’s voice when walking up the stairs, but I didn’t think much of it. I didn’t think to see a green-skinned oni, whose clothes seemed like they were plucked from under a pile of horse shit in how filthy they were. 

Huh? There’s no smell? 

He was a foot taller than Irisa, with thicker, larger horns that sprouted from his forehead. His arms and legs looked powerful and muscular. In his current appearance, he looked more suited to being a thug than an intellectual. 

“Irisa…” Irisa’s father slowly moved, her mother lightly biting her lip as if she didn’t know what to say.  

She didn’t seem to be in pain. There wasn’t any sign of domestic abuse or assault. Nothing was thrown or damaged. [Analysis] didn’t report any injuries, either. 

“Get out…” Irisa’s response failed to contain daughterly affection. Her father remained as still as a glacier, and she raised her voice. “GET OUT!!! GET OUT!!!! YOU RUINED OUR LIVES!!!! LEAVE!!!!!” I’d never seen her so angry before. Her tender tones were soft and excitable, but she held so much malice.  

“Irisa! Stop it!” shouted Ichiha. She ran to hug her daughter, but she struggled against the embrace and broke free. 

“Mom! He raped a little girl! That man isn’t my father!!!! JUST GET OUT!!” Irisa broke free and started to throw the peppers at her father, who didn’t move. She dashed to the table and threw plates, shattering them against his head and shoulder, drawing blood that raced down his verdant skin. He took it all, and her mother was too stunned to act. After running out of plates, she ran for the man that destroyed her life and kicked and punched until she fell unconsciously from an overindulgence in rarely used emotions.    

Kokan took her beatings with nary a grunt or flinch. With a calm face and non-violent demeanor, he lifted his daughter. “There’s been a misunderstanding, hasn’t there? If you raped that girl, Ichiha wouldn’t have let you back in,” Tilde said. She buzzed around Irisa, placing a small hand on her still cheek. “Hmm… I’ve seen many sick bastards in my life, but you aren't one of them.” 

If you were found guilty by a judge-- even if you were actually innocent-- a title related to that crime would be forcibly attached to you. It would remain for as long as you lived out your punishment. When that was over, the title didn’t disappear. It just unequipped itself while forever following you like a shadow. When someone used a Scan Stone, criminal-related titles appeared—even if they were ‘expired.’ I used [Analysis], and Kokan was innocent, just like when I scanned him a few weeks ago when he followed Irisa and me to the market.   

If he had raped that girl, he would have had something, but he didn’t. Clearly, someone had set him up or falsified evidence. Why go that far if you weren’t going to go all the way and ruin his life completely? 

But it wasn't that simple. Although this world was fairly rigid in how the system ruled, Tilde once explained to me that it was flexible enough to, while not supporting corruption, had enough freedom for corruption to thrive.

There were three tiers of 'judgement,' as Tilde liked to put it.

The first was those with a [Judge] title. They would hear both sides of a story and decree their ruling. This was the most common, and although they were supposed to be impartial and neutral, they could be bribed. Mortals were inherently flawed, and Karen had enough money to bribe almost any judge within Dirge to rule in their favor.

The second was being judged by a jury of your peers. They would hear both sides of a case, deliberate amongst themselves during a recess, and each member would vote guilty or not guilty. Juries could only be formed by a judge. It was harder to bribe a group than a single person, but everyone had their price. The only way to get a truly impartial judgement was with Arbitrators.

Arbitrators were similar to the supreme court from my world. Within the family of [Judge] titles, [Arbitrator] and [High Arbitrator] were the hardest and most difficult to get, with only one person in the world capable of holding the latter. Arbitrators receive a skill called [Truth Field], which makes it impossible to lie within it, including the Arbitrator themself. If one went against the truth and acted in defiance of justice, their title would be stricken from their person. A retrieval group from Aquanis, the only country in the world with the authority to train those who wish to become Arbitrators, would hunt the traitorous Arbitrator and force them to stand trial. The one person with [High Arbitrator], as Tilde said it was written in the Kingdom of Aquanis's judicial code, would be solely responsible for the traitor's fate, which often ended in execution. 

If an Arbitrator supervised this incident, things would've been different. But you couldn't force one to take a case. You could send in a request, but the final decision came from the Arbitrator, who decided what cases they would take.

“Kokan… My dear husband did not do what that detestable witch claimed he did,” Ichiha spat venom out of her gentle mouth, lowering her voice and narrowing her eyes, as was a trait of the fearsome Oni when pissed off. Sekh and I helped clean while Kokan put his daughter on the bed she and her mom slept on. Then he stood beside his wife and rubbed her back.  

“Tell me what happened,” I said.  

Ichiha looked at her husband. After clearing her throat, she spoke slowly with a wavering voice that only got stronger the more she continued.   

Fifteen years ago, Kokan received an offer to teach at a new academy the guild had built in Ria because it was a growing hot spot. The village, as it was at the time, rapidly grew into a key distribution and shipping hub with its efficient harbors and easy access to raw materials. Ichiha, who was already an established merchant with a promising reputation, was happy to come along with her husband. She had planned to create a new store, and her daughter was jumping at the chance to sell her crafting products. And that was after she danced for joy when learning about Smithy’s Corner, which was also in its infancy.   

Really, all three were more than happy to make the long trip from Dirge’s capital.  In five short years, Ichiha’s store grew by leaps and bounds. She was charismatic and excelled in assuring her customers left happy and content. With so much success, she was approved for a loan to move her shop to a building in the city's town square. 

 For the following few years, things were going swimmingly. Ichiha's profits kept increasing, and it seemed like there was no end in sight. 

Until Karen Barclay moved to the city.  

The Barclays was a famous family from the capital—one that carried fame, power, and status—and had close ties with Dirge’s Holy Lord. But Karen herself was reclusive. She was rarely seen in public, but she also started a store once after settling down and paid employees handsomely to take care of everything. Her daughter, Erin, transferred to Kokan’s class a week after her mother’s shop was set up. 

At some point, according to Ichiha and Kokan, Karen eyed the store they owned. And she wanted it badly. The reasons were there, I mean. The city square held the most foot traffic. And in the summer, when people ventured to Ria to enjoy its beautiful land and crystal-clear waters, it was all but assured shops located there would earn the most money. Tourism was a profitable business in my world, and it seemed the same here. 

After failing to buy them out, Karen resorted to crime, yet the shop endured and grew strong through arson and robbery. The final choice Karen could use was public opinion. Even if it was rampant in the homes of nobles and the rich, everyone ‘said’ pedophilia was horrible to protect their image.  

And that worked very well. The official story was that Kokan used his power to sexually abuse Karen’s daughter. 

That did not happen.  

“I was leaving the classroom,” Kokan said. His wounds were already healed. His voice was deep and masculine, like the purr of a deep violin. “Erin stopped me. She waited until we were alone to talk. Then the door slammed shut, Erin screamed, and her personal guards rushed in. I took a paralysis baton to the back of the head. Seconds later, I woke with enchanted chains clasped on my arms and legs.”  

“To keep my husband from a fate far worse than prison, we gave Karen everything... I could only hide a little bit of money.” Ichiha finished the story. I’d never seen her so upset before. I’d always known her as the strong mother to a stronger daughter, but this weaker side that I emotionally looked up to? 

It was like I was finally meeting the real her.  

I stood from the chair I had sat in after cleaning, stretched my arms, and sighed. “You didn’t tell this to Irisa?” 

Ichiha nodded. “We did, but our little angel doesn’t believe us.” 

“It hurts so much to be hated by my precious daughter,” Kokan whispered. He formed a fist and hit his knee, doing his best not to cry as his face scrunched up.  

He looked like the type of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve. Kokan always had an eye on his daughter. She didn’t know he was watching that closely. Spying more like it, but I thought that was excusable.  

My friendship with Irisa led him to believe he could return to his daughter’s life. He saw her smiling and laughing more than he ever remembered, so he took a chance.  

And it failed.  

Did I believe Kokan? 

Yes, I did. And Sekh did too. Tilde also believed the accused man was not guilty of his supposed crime. I knew fake crying and remorse when I saw it because that was how my ‘family’ made me feel like shit. I knew all the little secrets and methods, but Kokan didn’t exhibit them. His tears were genuine as the affection I held for his daughter. The way he carried Irisa to her room was an example of how a father should act.   

“I don’t know what to say, but I know what to do. This conversation you three need to have doesn’t involve me. My being here might make it worse. Ah, Ichiha, how much—” 

“I kept my word, dear. Anything about your situation will come from your mouth, not mine. But you can trust my husband,” Ichiha said. She kissed Kokan’s cheek and rubbed it. 

“I will not press you because I know the value of secrecy. My word doesn’t mean much these days, but my daughter is an excellent judge of character. She would not have cried over you if you did not deserve her tears.” He held out a hand, then realizing its filth, took it back. But I walked into the handshake, giving him a powerful nod. There was just something about his gaze. His eyes. The power in his muscles matched my own.   

“Mila, we would still like you to stay here.” 

I smiled and hugged Ichiha, thanking her again for her kindness while searching my map for a place we could kill time. “We’ll be at that bar down the street to give you some time to talk to Irisa,” I said when I found something interesting on my map. 

Ichiha and her husband nodded. “We’ll have a talk with Irisa when she wakes up. I pray that my little girl will be more receptive. I can’t stand us not being a family anymore… It’s hard enough that my darling and I barely see each other, but…” She started to cry again, letting her heart’s emotion pour from her eyes.  

My ‘mother’ would have died a thousand times over before showing me a shred of love. I knew it wasn’t easy for Irisa, but I hoped she would see reason. I liked to gauge myself as an appraisal of character. From pure body language alone, Kokan looked fine. The telltale sign of a sociopathic serial liar who talked about being a changed man wasn’t there. 

Regardless, that was Kokan’s story, and while I believed him, I still felt there was more to it. A regular person wouldn’t automatically turn to arson, thievery, and even pedophilic and sexual assault false charges to get a better spot, right? The Barclays was an influential family with solid connections to the Holy Lord that led this country. Surely, she could’ve convinced Ichiha to move or sell, or the family, if they were as rich as I thought them to be, could afford to just buy a building next to Ichiha’s shop and transfer her store there. 

There were nonviolent ways to get what Karen desired, yet she chose the nuclear option. If it had backfired, her family’s reputation would have gone down the gutter. 

Then again, did there have to be a reason? Some people were naturally unstable. Mental diseases could be helped with medicine or therapy, but a world like this probably didn’t have much in that department. 

Or was I the crazy one for trying to unwrap this mystery?  

Despite all that, I still believed in Kokan’s innocence. There were good people in the world, and I wanted to believe he was one of them.