When Clayton opened the door, he was surprised to find a middle-aged man with a gentle, polite expression standing at the threshold.
The man's face carried a faint lancholy that made Clayton unconsciously feel sympathy—and an unexpected sense of closeness.
"Hey, Clayton. Are you doing okay after your father's passing? If not, you can talk to . I may not have much to offer, but I'll do my best to help. And if you're not comfortable talking to , you can go to the other uncles. We were all your father's close friends."
Hearing those sincere words, Clayton felt overwheld. The man's deanor stood in stark contrast to all the scheming and coldness he'd encountered since waking up in this world.
After a mont, he rembered who the man was—Henry, his father's old friend and longti hunting partner.
"Yes, Uncle. I'm doing alright. I'll definitely ask for your help if I run into trouble. Sorry in advance if I end up bothering you," Clayton replied, a bit awkwardly but with genuine respect.
"Good to hear. Don't hesitate to co to us—your father was like a brother to ."
"Thank you, Uncle. I'll rember that. Oh, by the way—have you had dinner yet? Why not eat with ? I just finished cooking, and there's more than enough."
"No need. I just got back from a hunting trip outside the city, and there's still plenty to take care of. The others are busy handling the harvest. I only ca to make sure you're okay. And I'm glad you are. We'll share a al with the others another ti."
Only then did Clayton notice the dirt and stains on Henry's clothes and body—proof that he had indeed co straight from work. His heart ward.
"Alright, Uncle. I won't keep you. Thanks for checking in on ."
Henry nodded and took his leave.
Clayton walked him all the way to the end of the road. His heart felt a little lighter—this was the first ti he'd felt genuine kindness since arriving in this world.
anwhile, Henry strolled calmly down the path. But a mont later, a sharp, calculating glint flashed in his eyes. He suddenly froze.
"Did he... cook demon grasshopper?" he muttered, uncertain.
For a mont, Henry looked confused.
...
The next day, Clayton busied himself cleaning the house and sorting through his late father's belongings.
Among the piles, he found four inheritances:
[High-Level Magical Farming Apprentice's Legacy]
[Low-Level Scroll-Making Apprentice's Legacy]
[Heaven-Swallowing Whale Body Tempering Technique]
[Deep Sea Magic Circuit Training thod]
The first had been purchased by his father during his early days on the magic continent, as a ans to make a living.
The second had recently been recovered from ruins near the city, along with Henry's group.
The third—Heaven-Swallowing Whale Body Tempering Technique—was a high-level physical training thod for apprentice knights, categorized as black iron grade. His father had acquired it in the mortal world, which had made him a formidable warrior before journeying into the magical realm.
The fourth—Deep Sea Magic Circuit Training thod—was a water-elent-based magical training technique, popular across the continent.
In this world, magical power ranked as follows: Magic Apprentice, True Mage, Mage Master, Grandmaster Mage, and beyond.
The apprentice rank ranged from one-star to nine-star, divided as follows:
Stars 1–3: Lower tier
Stars 4–6: Mid tier
Stars 7–9: Upper tier
Likewise, training thods and materials were classified by quality: [Black Iron], [Bronze], [Silver], and [Gold]—with gold being the highest.
Aside from these legacies, Clayton had very little—just a handful of magic crystals to sustain him for a while.
He let out a slow breath.
From the outside, it might seem like he had plenty—perhaps even looked well-off. But the truth was far from it.
Most residents in this city owned at least two legacies. Four legacies weren't anything exceptional.
What impressed Clayton most was how his father had managed to buy a house in the outer-ring district of the city—clearly a strategic location. That alone spoke volus about his father's foresight.
Clayton found himself curious about the man his father had been. If he were still alive, perhaps he would've achieved everything an ordinary man could dream of.
The thought also led Clayton to wonder about his mother. But he had no mories of her at all.
According to his father, she had been a beautiful and gentle woman who died during childbirth due to dystocia.
Thinking about it, Clayton sighed. In both his previous life and this one, he had always been alone.
But his thoughts were soon interrupted by the golden wheat fields stretching outside his window. All that remained now was hope. With hard work, he believed he could carve out a good life in this magical world.
With renewed determination, Clayton walked out to the fields—only to freeze in shock.
Two miniature skeletons stood there, motionless.
"Why haven't they disappeared?" he muttered, puzzled.
He circled them, prodding and inspecting, but found no clues.
Just as he was about to give up, his eyes lit up. He attempted the sa summoning ritual as before, and a silver magic circle appeared.
Another mini skeleton materialized—while the previous two remained.
That wasn't normal. Summoned skeletons typically vanished after a certain ti. Yet these stayed.
Clayton realized—his skeletons weren't bound by normal summoning limits. Another unexpected bug, perhaps linked to his cheat item.
He summoned another skeleton and granted it the Water Gun skill before returning to his chores.
But while tending the wheat, Clayton frowned. His Observation and Farming Intuition skills told him sothing was wrong.
Upon closer inspection, he discovered the soil was extrely dry—the wheat was suffering from a lack of water.
He looked up. Only thin clouds and bright sun. No sign of recent rain.
A mocking voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Well, if it isn't Young Master Clayton? Out in the fields this early?"
"Look at that gloomy face. Farming's hard, huh? Not used to such lowly work, are you, noble Young Master?"
"Need help? Don't worry—it can be arranged... for a price!"
The sarcasm stung. "Young Master" was now more insult than title.
Clayton recognized the voice—Equus, his horse-faced neighbor. He used to be respectful because of Clayton's father. But now, that courtesy was gone.
Equus smiled, thinking his barbs had hit their mark.
You had a good father? Fine. But now you're on your own. You'll be out of this city soon enough, he thought.
So nearby villagers glanced over. So were sympathetic, others laughed, while a few masked their scorn.
Like Equus, most harbored envy.
But none dared to act too openly—his father's connections could still pose trouble.
Equus didn't think that far. He just enjoyed the mont.
"A greenhouse flower will never survive the real world," he sneered.
The others stayed silent, but their eyes hinted at agreent.
After that, Equus left with a satisfied grin, and the onlookers dispersed.
Clayton scoffed inwardly. He saw their true colors—but didn't care.
Let them wallow in their ignorance. Their underestimation would serve as a shield for now, helping him avoid attention.
He refocused on the real issue: the drought.
He recalled Manager Belly's strange remarks from the night before. The man's words seed to carry a deeper aning...
Clayton began to doubt—was this truly a natural disaster... or one orchestrated by human hands?
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