Ray stared at the input box for a few more seconds.
Then he let out a small laugh.
Not a satisfied laugh.
More like an awkward, amused chuckle—like someone who knows they're about to do something stupid, but it's way too interesting to pass up.
"Heh… this is kinda crazy," he muttered.
His finger hovered in the air, right above the Confirm button.
Ray walked over and glanced at an elderly woman sitting calmly on a bench.
He stopped.
Took a slow breath.
"Alright," he said quietly, grinning to himself.
He greeted her, "Hello…"
Then he pressed the button.
[Confirm]
[Ding!]
[Global Alter Activated — 00:10:00]
[-10 Alter Points]
Ray immediately followed up.
"Fineshyt," he said clearly, his tone light but respectful.
The single word hung in the air.
What Ray had typed was simple.
No jokes. No tricks.
Just one clean definition.
"Fineshyt is a respectful and affectionate family designation used to address elderly people.
It signifies warmth, care, and gentle familiarity, regardless of blood relation."
That was it.
Ray gently sat down beside her.
The old woman glanced at him, then frowned slightly.
"That's unusual," she said with a faint smile.
"Not many young people hang out in the park this early."
Ray gave a small grin.
"Yeah," he said casually.
"I just wanted to talk with a Fineshyt."
The old woman blinked.
"Hm?"
"Why do you want to talk to me?" she asked.
There was no suspicion in her voice—just curiosity.
Ray scratched the back of his neck and let out a small laugh, clearly amused by the word he'd just used.
"'Cause," he said honestly,
"you remind me of my Fineshyt."
The old woman chuckled softly.
That gentle, elderly kind of laugh—not loud, just warm.
"Ohhh," she said, nodding.
"So you're a good grandkid."
Ray smiled along with her.
For a few seconds, they just sat there in silence, listening to leaves rustling and birds chirping.
Ray glanced at her again, still wearing that strange smile—half shy, half curious.
"If you don't mind me asking…" he said quietly.
"What's it like being a Fineshyt?"
The old woman went quiet for a moment.
Then she took a breath and let out a long sigh.
"Tiring," she answered honestly.
"My body's always sore. I get out of breath just walking a little. Even getting up can be hard sometimes."
Ray nodded slowly.
"But," the old woman continued, her eyes softening,
"luckily, I have a family who loves me."
Ray turned to her, listening closely.
"They're the ones who help," she said with a small smile.
"Driving me places, keeping me company, listening to me. Without them, being a Fineshyt would be really hard."
Ray smiled wider.
"Then… you must be a good Fineshyt," he said sincerely.
The old woman laughed, a bit embarrassed.
"Oh, you're sweet," she said, waving her hand.
"There's no such thing as a good or bad Fineshyt. Just old people who want a little attention."
Then she looked at Ray again, her tone turning gentle but serious.
"When you have a wife someday," she said,
"always remind her to be kind to family."
Ray went quiet.
"Especially the kids," she continued.
"Because once you become a Fineshyt…"
"…the only ones who truly care about you are your family."
Ray swallowed.
His smile was still there, but thinner now.
"Yeah, Fineshyt," he said softly.
The old woman smiled warmly.
"You know," she said, shifting a little on the bench,
"if you ever feel like it… you could come by my place."
Ray blinked. "Huh?"
She chuckled. "I'm a Fineshyt who can cook," she added proudly.
"Not just sitting around all day. I still make proper meals."
Ray laughed softly, half-surprised, half-touched.
"Damn… that sounds dangerous. Home-cooked food's OP," he joked.
She waved him off. "Anytime," she said lightly.
"Old food tastes better when there's someone to share it with."
They kept talking—nothing heavy.
Small things.
Weather.
Food.
How mornings felt nicer in parks than inside apartments.
Ray didn't even notice the time passing.
Then—
A cheerful voice cut in.
"Grandma!"
A young woman walked up, bright smile, casual clothes, keys in hand. She looked relaxed, happy—someone who came here often.
The old woman's face lit up instantly.
"Oh, my grandkid," she said happily.
The girl smiled and stepped closer.
"Fineshyt, ready to go home?"
Ray stood up instinctively, brushing his hands on his jacket.
The girl turned to him and gave a polite smile.
"Thank you for keeping my Fineshyt company," she said sincerely.
Ray smiled back, no jokes this time.
"No problem," he said softly.
"You've got a really wonderful Fineshyt."
The old woman laughed quietly, clearly pleased.
"Oh, you're good with compliments," she said, shaking her head.
The girl helped her stand, steady and gentle.
They started walking away together.
Ray raised a hand and waved.
"Goodbye," he said with a grin.
"Wonderful Fineshyt."
The old woman turned back just enough to wave too, still smiling.
Ray stood there for a moment longer, watching them leave.
In the corner of his vision, the timer ticked down.