Leon kept baiting the hook, listening to the rain splashing against the water and the rocky embanknt beneath his feet. He stole glances at Haley’s thoughtful face, suddenly realizing how pleasant this all felt.
After all, most fishern out there were one man, one rod, one umbrella, and one pack of cigarettes. But here he was—fishing with a beautiful girl beside him, on a rainy day no less. In terms of atmosphere and company, he was leagues ahead of the rest.
“So, you can use magic?”
While waiting for a bite, Leon heard Haley finally speak after a long silence.
“Mhm.” Leon didn’t answer directly, wanting to tease her a bit. He rather enjoyed seeing her stomp her foot in frustration.
Sure enough, Haley was thrown off. She had expected Leon to either boast about his special ability or, as before, casually make sothing up to string her along. But his vague reply left her unsure how to respond.
“So, I’ve t soone out of a fairy tale? A real magician?”
“I’m not a magician,” Leon said this ti, giving her a straight answer.
“But you called that disappearing trick ‘magic,’” Haley said, skeptical. “You’re not trying to fool , are you?”
“Not at all. That does count as a kind of magic, but I’m definitely not a magician,” Leon explained.
“You can think of it as an innate gift—sothing leaning toward the magical—but I’ve never studied magic itself,” Leon continued, spinning his usual line. He could show her he could store and retrieve items at will, but he would never reveal the System.
“Are there many people like you?” Haley asked, only half-comprehending.
“Oh, plenty. Where do you think adventurers co from?” Leon said, feeding her more nonsense. In truth, he had only t proper adventurers like Marlon and Gil, and he wasn’t entirely sure what most were like. But he was pretty sure Haley had never t one either.
“I see… No wonder they can fight monsters,” Haley nodded, clearly buying it.
Then she asked curiously, “So your ability is just making things disappear?”
“More precisely, it’s storing them in another dinsion,” Leon said. He even demonstrated, pulling out the smallmouth bass from his System Backpack. It was clean, not too big, and fit perfectly in his hand.
“What a convenient ability! If I had it, I wouldn’t have to carry a backpack when going out—or lug around a dozen shopping bags after buying things,” Haley said enviously.
“It’s inborn—you can’t force it,” Leon said, consoling her. “But you’re beautiful. Isn’t that a special ability in itself?”
The belief that “beauty is power” was near universal among humans. Good looks were a natural advantage in social interactions—almost like a superpower.
“Of course I know I’m pretty,” Haley said proudly, her cheeks tinged pink. It was, after all, the first ti Leon had ever complinted her.
When they’d first t, Haley thought Leon was face-blind. Now it seed he could appreciate beauty after all.
Leon chuckled and said nothing more, afraid he might end up teasing her into sulking.
Haley didn’t speak either, simply holding her umbrella as she watched the raindrops ripple across the river’s surface. She hated rainy days—her proud golden hair would lose its shine and hang limp—but she did like the calm, natural beauty of rain.
“Wait here a second,” she said suddenly, before walking off with her umbrella. About two minutes later, she returned with an old-fashioned cara in hand.
“Leon, can you hold the umbrella for ? I want to take so photos.”
“Of course.”
Leon didn’t hesitate. He held the fishing rod in one hand and took her small floral umbrella in the other, holding it over her head.
Because he was holding the umbrella, Haley naturally stood close to him. Once she was sure the rain wouldn’t wet her clothes or cara, she lifted it to her eye and began photographing the rain-soaked scene.
Click. Click. The shutter snapped along with bursts of the flash. The film rolled quickly, but Haley didn’t mind—she was getting into it. She even stepped out into the rain to snap a quick photo of Leon before ducking back under the umbrella.
Leon watched as she checked the cara for water damage. Seeing that it was fine—just a few drops on the casing—she let out a relieved sigh.
“If you’re taking pictures of , what are you going to do with them?” Leon asked.
“I just thought the scenery alone was too plain. You, the fisherman, add so freshness to the composition,” Haley said, showing her photographer’s professionalism.
“Don’t you think the image of a river in the rain with soone fishing in it is interesting? When others see it, what will they think? That this fisherman is braving the rain for his livelihood? Or that he’s such a fishing fanatic he can’t stay away from the river? Isn’t that fascinating?”
“But don’t you think it’s strange? A fisherman in a raincoat doesn’t need an umbrella, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be one so obviously ant for a woman. Doesn’t that look weird?” Leon said dryly.
“That’s exactly what I want. The unusual makes people imagine more. Leon, if you saw such a scene in a photo, what story would you co up with?” Haley asked curiously.
“? I’d think that person’s either a pervert or a lunatic,” Leon said without rcy—poking fun at himself. This wasn’t even a guess; just looking at the scene, it already seed crazy, even if the fisherman in the photo was him.
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