In the temporary occasions Simon's mind was stable enough to process outside information, he laughed.
An uncontrollable, joyful laughter.
"Hehe, HAHAHAHA! Your hands froze before you could touch your 'new wife'?" He laughed at him.
Simon pointed and laughed at the fool who had tried to fuck an ice cube. What'd he think would happen?
"We had a good mood going and everything..." Pal was in tears at the embarrassment he was feeling.
After he brought her to this place, Talia coldly healed him up and secretly giggled about his new trauma.
Getting frostbite from touching a girl's thigh.
Shia was feeling depressed, but for a different reason. Though it did stem from this 'failure' she felt.
Thinking that she couldn't fulfil her wifely duties.
Simon looked at the afro delinquent that somehow managed to make him feel alive at this moment.
It had been a long time since he felt like this.
'…I should close my heart.' Rationally speaking, it'd be no good if he got too close with this person.
This man, Pal, was an even worse mess of a human.
"Ahem… So you still want to stay true to your role as a Killer? You want that subclass?" He asked the man.
Pal turned his head at Simon words to look at him in confusion. It was his first time hearing of this term.
"Subclass?" There was nothing in his system of that.
"Yeah, idiot. Don't you know anything here?" Simon felt it was strange someone like him didn't know.
"What is a Subclass?" Pal asked this question straightforwardly, but Simon thought is was more than a stupid thing to ask. He actually thought about the meta-contextual, out of the norm viewpoint.
Like looking at it from an outsider's perspective.
"I take back calling you an 'idiot'." Simon in his delusional state saw Pal for who he really was.
A hidden genius in Arts.
"Erm… Okay?" He brushed his glossy afro.
"I remember a little boy like you once, Bob. He was da best at being a smart-ass." The old man patted.
Each slap on his back shaking the man.
"Wait, Bob?" Pal slowly raised a brow.
"Yeah yeah, Bobby~ You're such a hard worker." He patted the man's afro without noticing anything.
"Wait, I'm-" (Pal)
"Bob~ I get you. Really!" (Simon)
"No wait, just listen-" (Pal)
"Subclass is what we call them, but it's really about you." Simon bulldozed without giving him a chance.
"Me?" The topic was derailed.
"Yeah, you! What do you wanna do? Not every Warrior wants to swing a sword. Not every Gunner uses firearms. And not every Fighter wants to use their fists, A subclass is what you choose when you're taking a different path from your Job.
To take on a role. To harden the heart." (Simon)
In the midst of such a passionate speech, Pal thought for a bit… and decided to act like he understood.
"Of course, that's what I actually meant. Shame on you for doubting my smarts." He puffed his chest.
'Now forget about earlier!' And hoped in his heart.
He pretty much understood that the eccentricities he gave characters had been normalised in this method.
That word probably had more to do with character than abilities, which was why he didn't remember it.
Because why would he care about their character?
'Strong people make explosions' was what he was into. Not why they bothered becoming strong.
After all, wasn't climbing the ladder natural?
That was what Pal thought.
Then came the question: "With that in mind, what do you want to spend the rest of your life for?"
Simon gave him the choice.
He could choose to take his first step towards greatness so long as he stepped onto the path.
Made a choice for himself.
"Do you still want to be a killer?" Simon's words made him think more about the life he had lived.
And what he wanted now.
Did he desire to be a killer today?
The answer…
"I think." Even now, he wasn't at all certain.
"That's fine if you can't decide immediately. Unless it lights a fire in your heart, then it's a good path." The old geezer figured out his heart wasn't into that life path, and gave his advice on what he should do.
After hearing those words, Pal said the following:
"What if my 'fire' is just having sex?"
After all, he never felt any passion in what he did unless a woman was involved. Scummy as it was.
What would the drunkard say now? Would he berate his student for having a small mindset and heart?
The old geezer looked him in the eyes. Not showing any disgust or negative feeling at his quiet answer.
"Then I'll help you." Simon didn't mind much.
His eyes neither shook or faltered at the thought of his student using his teachings for such a thing.
Pal exploded on the inside.
…..
….
…
..
.
I must be hearing things. What did he just tell me right now? Did he just accept me for who I was?
Did he really accept me?
"You'll help me have sex." I spoke just to make sure we were on the same page. No misunderstandings.
"Why not?" Simon spoke and took a hefty swig.
Knowing that Talia would give infinite refills of booze from that strange fountain of wine she had.
It looked like he didn't care if it wasn't on his tab.
"Don't masters like you have any pride?" I had every reason to ask this about him. Not all were so free.
"I must've washed it away with this." Simon grinned and shook the bottle he'd started to reuse often.
There didn't seem to be any taboo topic for him.
Although I brought it up, it made me uncertain when the man himself became so willing to waste his time.
And would Talia allow it?
She was already my landlord at this point. There was no way i could simply ignore her in any situation.
Wouldn't she kick me out if she knew I wasn't training to be the best tool to save those survivors?
Hmmm…
"Hey…" I puffed out my chest with dignity, then strode towards Simon to grasp his hand, saying:
"…I think we should make this a secret among men."
Simon looked like he was about to have another laughing fit. Was what I said so strange to him?
"I'm serious." The geezer looked like he was barely stopping himself from wheezing at my words.
"Y-you… I heard a bit about your situation. That girl wants a soldier to swing a sword, but you want to train to swing your lower sword?" The way Simon said it made my choice sound weird, but I was being honest. The only thing I want right now… was sex.
Do you KNOW how hard I got cockblocked lately?
Fuck. I WANTED TO FUCK!
"Just don't tell her, okay?" My words seemed to trigger him into a fit of laughter once again.
But he quickly regained himself compared to last time. It only took a few minutes for him to say:
"I promise I won't tell. It wouldn't be interesting if she knew what you were doing. I'm rooting for you then." There was a liveliness in Simon's eyes that I didn't think he'd ever shown in the original story.
From what I remember, George set him with a tragic backstory and made his personality dark to boot.
But from the way he acted and spoke, he didn't seem as dark as what George said he would be initially.
Was there some error?
Who cared. The only thing on my mind right now was Shia. Her lovely voice that captivated my ears.
And the shape of her assets I didn't get to see.
My hands froze the moment I touched her clothes.
"I'm relying on you now. Teacher- No, Master, I need a way to touch my wife right now. Please give me your wisdom." When I spoke my true intentions loudly, the geezer followed the flow and acted a bit.
"Disciple, not all hope ish lost ma mate. Ya just gotta get with the flow of things." His words were vague.
"Meaning?" I was on my knees and begging.
"It will be difficult. The energy protecting her body isn't normal. I've never seen such purity. Only a flame with similar purity can rival it. That's one problem you have, and you have another." (Simon)
"Which is…?" I felt a little scared.
There was another problem besides her body temperature? What other reason stopped me?!
Don't tell me it's something stupid like my training.
It didn't matter what I needed to learn. BRING IT!
"You've acquired the Miasma Core. An ball of death located behind your collar bone." His eyes were cold.
"Err… Oh." I looked away from him.
Why did I feel ashamed for some reason?
"Ahem… And that's a problem?" Rather than let him take initiative to ask if I was part of a cult, I spoke.
Keeping things related to sexing.
"Miasma doesn't only affect the user. Maybe it won't show initially, but long term physical contact could naturally kill a persons. Your choice back when you chose that Skill doesn't mesh with here and now." I suddenly realised that my carelessness was at fault.
"So I've become a walking ball of disease for others now?" It didn't affect me, but it'd affect my partner.
Shia could die because I slept with her.
The realisation of that made my heart waver. For the first time, I actually started to feel a bad feeling.
Regret? Was this feeling regret? It… hurts.
"I'm sorry. What made you choose that Skill over the many others?" Rather than hurting me more, Simon got to my level and held my shoulder. He still didn't let go of his booze though. He wasn't THAT moved.
"…I wanted to keep my brother safe." My mouth was twisting. It alternated between a line and a curve.
"Did you need it bad?" Simon's words hit hard.
"I might've went overboard." I turned my head away despite his earlier sympathy. Now I felt ashamed.
Wait, if I turned into an Undead now, wouldn't that mean living a sexless life as a skeleton forever?
Fuuuck!!!
Just as I was writhing on the inside, I felt someone's hand pet my glossy hair. The feeling was strange.
Not physically, but emotionally.
"It's okay, Bob. I understand." He said in grief.
"Wait, my name still isn't-"
"But I have a solution!" Once again, he stopped me before I could correct him about my damn name.
Was he doing this purposefully?
I looked at his shirt and thought: 'Probably not.'
There was no way a good social manipulator would be so disgusting. It almost made me want to puke.
"…Go on." Fine. I'll leave the name thing alone.
"You burn away your Death Attribute." You say what now? Simon's words made me question his sanity.
"You can't burn away Attributes." (Pal)
"You don't believe me?" (Simon)
"Attributes are tethered to the existence of those who acquire them. You can't un-sync with them." (Pal)
"What makes you say that?" (Simon)
"I just happen to kno-" (Pal)
"Well you 'know' nothing!" (Simon)
"Grr!" I gnashed my teeth and growled when he smacked me over the head. Did he just hit me?
Me? The guy who brought him here?
"Now you listen to me-" Smack smack. I felt my cheeks burning from the double layered attack.
Making me quiet down to listen clearly.
"Get that bullshit out of your head. What's the powers YOU think attune with the body?" (Simon)
"Well I'm glad you asked. You see… Blood, Death, Metal, and Wood are the four laws of life-" (Pal)
SMACK.
"What the actual fuck, man?! You wanna throw hands?!!" I finally had enough of his nonsense.
But just as I was about to act, this drunkard who rarely seemed like he was thinking pointed at me.
"The synapses in your brain that instantly sent the signal of pain. The jolt in your nerves. Lightning.
Your quantum positioning in this world. Space.
Your physical body constantly in motion. Time.
The heat in your body. Fire.
The moisture in your blood. Water.
The iron in your body is from the ground. Earth.
The air in your lungs. Wind.
The shadow you make. Darkness.
The reflection in your eyes. Light.
There's nothing in this world that isn't already part of your body. What matters is your will." Simon walked up to me and thumped my chest with his fist strongly. Making me aware of my own heartbeat.
"My will…?" Like what I was doing right now?
That kind of will?
"Mana does not follow the orders of the weak. It shuns and despises those who fear it. Those who believe they grasp the working of magic… are those weak to it." His words sounded like a prophesy.
Simon's tone didn't simply sound sober. It felt like an ancient was berating a child for being foolish.
That was the distance I felt between us.
Like a long-standing mountain being compared with age to a child that had yet to understand the world.
"How do I un-attune myself with Death?" I asked the question that had been on my mind at this point.
The geezer smiled at me.
I followed him to the church's garden. There, a lot of Treants were hanging out without moving at all.
From what I'd heard, they were usually like this.
Simon looked around and found a normal tree amongst the Treants, then grabbed a branch that had fallen next to it. He measured the size and weight of the branch before swinging it next to him.
The sound of air being pierced was heard.
With that uneven and fragile wooden branch, he pointed it at me. Acting like he obtained a weapon.
Did he think himself as some sort of a protagonist?
What could a branch do?
"The only way to un-attune with Death… is by defying Death." Simon pointed the stick at me.
His actions no different from a taunt.
If that's how he wanted to do it, then I had no choice but to give him an answer. He better brace himself.
I'd never been easy picking.