MSG – Volume 1 – Chapter 18
Normally, a 'talentless trash' like Solon would be emptying their lunch after using any means of teleportation (scrolls, formations, gates, etc.) but like the first relay, he seemed to be completely unperturbed.
As he stepped out of the still-empty bookstore, he looked up at the sky.
It was dark, and the cyan-colored moon stared down at him like every other night.
He could see the stars twinkling and with his sharp eye sight it was quite the sight to behold.
With the absence of scientific pollution in this world, the air was fresh and the skies were crystal clear.
"Who's there?!"
In his daze, he had somehow managed to not sense someone who was just a few meters from himself.
Well, that would have not been the case if the person was actually of any threat to or had not-so-nice intentions towards him, so he did not panic.
In his time in this isekai, he had come to trust contents of his Grimoire quite a lot.
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Fun Fact:
Everyone in this isekai could level up, though rather than 'Experience Points' as most would imagine, it was actually Magical Power (MP for short) that was used as a parameter.
Supposedly, once one turned 18, they would be able to materialize this Grimoire in the physical plane but before that, they could only peruse its contents within their minds.
The Grimoire of a person would contain all of the information there is to know about a person.
Even things that they do not know about themselves or they felt but would normally find difficult to describe or quantify.
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Although he was a level 0, he had skills of his own—ones not related to magic but a result of both his experience and physique.
One of his 'Skills' listed in there was something called [Danger Perception] and its function was self-explanatory.
As long as nothing within the coverage of his 'Perception' stat was of no threat to him in any significant shape or form, the skill would not be triggered and his spine would not tingle like a certain web slinging neighborhood friendly hero.
At one glance, he easily identified the source of the interruption of his stargazing.
It was just a beggar. One that camped in front of the bookstore every night.
Seeing who it was, Solon simply clicked his tongue before vanishing from where he stood.
Well, at least from any onlooker's point of view, it would seem so…. That is, if they could even see much in the dark of the night.
Though, the same onlookers would also have varying expressions if they witnessed what happened next.
The 'old beggar' cocked his head to the side, looking left and right before walking straight towards the door that Solon had locked upon coming out.
Alas, their expressions would become exaggerated as they would have witnessed said old beggar literally walk through the door like it was not even there.
The more steps he took inside the bookstore, the more his figure changed.
In a matter of seconds, the hunched figure of the dirty and sickly bag of bones was replaced by one of a female standing an impressive height of 7 feet.
Standing behind her, although other details could not be spotted in the darkness, no one would not feel at least one of either lust or envy as the silhouette of her body alone was the very definition of alluring feminism.
"No matter how many times I experience it, I simply cannot seem to stop being shocked by it." She muttered, her voice youthful and slightly melodious.
Her tone was tinged with some disbelief.
"And I could say that I feel the same about you."
There was supposed to be no one else in the bookstore.
Well at least that's what Solon (like most others would have) thought.
Strangely enough, the curvaceous lady was not the least bit startled or surprised to hear another female voice in the library, specifically one coming from the direction of the ceiling.
With the moonlight that managed to get into the library through the window, a small yet eerie smile could be seen appearing on the alluring lady's lips as she slowly raised her head to look at the ceiling where there was no figure could be seen and hence no sign of the owner of the voice.
"Oh, come on Dara." The curvaceous lady snorted. "With that absurd ability of yours… which even with my 'uniqueness', I still can't discern if it's a simple spell or a skill, both, or neither… You are not one to fall behind either."
"Haha! You say that but you are one of the handful of mortals that are able to sense my presence even when I try my hardest to hide it." The voice in the ceiling answered with a lighthearted snicker. "Even now, although you are looking in the direction from which my voice is being projected, I know that if I move to attack you, you will instantly strike back since you know where I actually am don't you?"
"That is only because of my… situation." As the lady spoke, she looked down at her right arm which she had consciously started to control, breaking it down into fine dust-sized particles before it reconstructed into a large crab's claw.
With the look in her eyes, it would seem that she was still not used to what she was capable of doing.
It was like she suddenly woke up one day as a being capable of such an astonishing feat.
"Heh. The way you treat your 'uniqueness' makes it seem like if you had been given the choice, you might not have become like you are now." The voice in the ceiling commented. "Or is it a simple case of disbelief and awe at the heights you have managed to reach?"
Hearing the voice's words, the curvaceous lady's lost look vanished and was replaced by a stern one as she looked up and said;
"I did not 'manage' to do anything." She seemed slightly irritated yet it was barely noticeable unless one was familiar with her usual speech patterns and tone of her voice. "I may have had quirks that gave me advantages in certain areas but there are always drawbacks. I had to grit my teeth and forge my path through it all."
"I may not be one to ever literally sweat but you have no idea how much effort went into my journey to this point." She added.
There was a seven-second bout of silence before the voice in the sealing seemed to swallow her saliva and then speak again.
"In that case, then why suddenly decide to risk throwing it all away?" they asked. "Building a civilization of monsters—ah, right. You prefer to call them "outcasts". Irrespective of what you choose to identify them as, they would still put a target on your back, you know."