Kazumi was torn.
Yukinoshita might not have the same dazzling first impression, but her personality is far more to my liking.
That Fujiwara girl seems like the quintessential extrovert—bright, sociable, and probably popular. The kind of girl who collects friends without even trying.
'I'm not sure my Masao can keep up with someone like that.'
While Chika Fujiwara's cheerful demeanor was undeniably appealing, Kazumi had a gut feeling that she would be a much tougher challenge for her son than the stoic Yukino Yukinoshita.
"That infuriating boy," she muttered to herself. "Why does he have to go and attract so many wonderful girls? Now I don't know who to root for!"
(Masao: She used to lie awake at night worrying I'd die alone. Now that I have options, she's stressed about that. Make up your mind, Mom.)
Kazumi pinched her chin, her expression shifting into one of deep analysis.
"Earlier, Masao called another girl right in front of Yukino-chan to make plans. And she didn't even bat an eye… That's not a good sign. Not good at all." She sighed, the sound heavy with maternal concern. "It means her feelings for him haven't developed into anything romantic yet. As for the other girl… I know even less."
"Ah, forget it," she finally declared, throwing her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "This is Masao's mess to sort out."
She would let him steer his own ship. Both girls seemed exceptional in their own ways. Whichever one he ended up with, it would be a spectacular victory for the Tanaka family.
"But seriously," she wondered aloud, a bemused smile touching her lips. "How does he manage to get close to such beauties? What's his secret?"
Her smile widened into a grin. "Is it simply because he's my son?"
—
After dinner that evening, Masao saw Yukinoshita home.
His reward for carrying a bag of her groceries was entry into her apartment—a rare privilege. It was his first time crossing the threshold.
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes swept across the interior, taking in every detail with the keen interest of an explorer charting unknown territory.
Yukinoshita, who was walking ahead of him, didn't even need to turn around. "Masao-kun, please stop staring. It's rude."
Masao's eyes flicked to her back. 'How does she do that? She's got eyes in the back of her head.'
The apartment was spacious for a single occupant. The decor was minimalist and clean, accented with subtle, tasteful hints of softness and charm that mirrored the occupant's own carefully guarded personality.
Masao reached the living room and let out a silent, disappointed sigh.
Yukino Yukinoshita was the very picture of discipline. Not a single stray sock, not one item out of place. The immaculate order was, in his opinion, truly a shame.
His gaze was inevitably drawn to the closed door at the end of the hallway.
'That has to be the bedroom. Yukinoshita's inner sanctum… I wonder what the private chamber looks like?'
Seeing Masao make himself comfortable on her sofa, Yukinoshita tilted her head. "It's late. Shouldn't you be heading home?"
"Trying to get rid of me already, Yukinoshita? After I played the part of the dutiful porter? The least you could do is offer me some hospitality. Let a man catch his breath."
Yukinoshita released an exasperated sigh. "Tea or Coffee?"
"Cofee. With a splash of Milk in it."
"Very well."
He sipped the coffee and gazed pensively out the dark window.
"The night is so dark and full of terrors… Do you think it's safe for a defenseless guy like me to walk home alone, Yukinoshita? Perhaps I should just…"
…
Masao found himself staring at the firm, unyielding wood of Yukinoshita's front door. He wrestled down the powerful urge to shout, Let me in!
He mastered the impulse.
"Fine, fine, I'm going," he said to the door. "Don't hesitate to call if you get lonely. My phone is always on."
As his footsteps retreated down the hall, Yukinoshita, still standing in the entryway, let out a quiet huff.
'The last thing I will ever be is lonely for you.'
—
When Masao got home, his mother offered him some cryptic encouragement.
"Do your best, Masao! And… be careful."
Masao was left scratching his head. After a moment, he assumed she was referring to his exercise.
'She wants me to keep training, but not push too hard.' He nodded, accepting this strange maternal wisdom.
Back in the sanctuary of his room, Masao decided to do something he rarely did: check the System.
He wasn't heavily dependent on it, usually reviewing it just once a week. There was little point in frequent check-ins; without enough Corruption Points, it was just a tease.
"Let's see the damage," he muttered, opening his laptop—his preferred interface with the arcane.
His eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me."
He rubbed his eyes, certain he was misreading the number. But it remained, glaring and glorious.
"Over nine hundred thousand."
Sayuri-san had mentioned that his growing notoriety had caused his book sales to spike this week. Sales were like a wave, and he was apparently riding the crest.
But Masao knew the sheer volume of points had another, more dedicated source.
"I must thank my loyal readers," he said with a grin. "They've clearly been… devoting a significant amount of their personal energy to my work."
He felt a fleeting concern for their well-being. 'I hope they're eating their vegetables and getting enough protein.'
With this windfall, a grin spread across his face that was more stubborn than a jammed rifle.
"Time to roll the dice! Though, why nine hundred thousand? So close to a clean million."
He was grateful the system wasn't as mercenary as some gacha games, which forced you to pull one miserable time if you couldn't afford ten. This one let him choose.
He clicked the button. A series of chimes echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations, Host! Obtained: Random Talent Fragment x9.]
[Congratulations, Host! Obtained Skill: [Painting] LV1. (Unique Skill. Cannot be obtained repeatedly.)]
[Congratulations, Host! Obtained: [Skill Experience Card] x5, [Talent Experience Card] x2, [Free Attribute Point] x1.]
A new line of [Skill Experience Cards] and [Talent Experience Cards] was now available in the System Shop.
'New inventory. Interesting.'
He focused on his new skill.
[[Painting] LV1 (Upgrade required: 1x Skill Experience Card).
You have grasped the fundamental principles of painting. Your current level: Amateur.]
"System, what's the scale for skill levels? What do they mean?"
[Skills are divided into five tiers, Host:]
· LV1: Novice - Peeking through the gate, a beginner taking the first look.
· LV2: Proficient - Entering the hall, having moved beyond the basics.
· LV3: Skilled - Achieving comprehension, connecting knowledge fluidly.
· LV4: Masterful - The flame burns pure blue; skill has been refined to an art.
· LV5: Virtuoso - Reaching the pinnacle, achieving the absolute peak.
Masao looked at his five [Skill Experience Cards], a plan forming. He grabbed a scrap of paper and quickly sketched a crude "Panda Man" meme face.
Then, he willed one of the cards into use.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host! Painting LV1 → LV2. (Next upgrade requires: 3x Skill Experience Card.)]
A subtle warmth flowed into his fingers, a new sense of connection and control with the pen. His fingers felt more nimble, more assured.
He immediately drew another Panda Man next to the first, a side-by-side comparison.
It was an instinct, just like in a game—after upgrading a skill, you immediately had to find the nearest target to test your new-found power.
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