Magnolia Town, Fairy Tail.
A small figure stood outside the doors of the Fairy Tail Guild.
The little girl stopped and stared up at the guild’s emblem in a daze.
A small white dog stood beside her on a leash, gazing at the entrance and wagging its tail excitedly.
Six-year-old Cana had come to Fairy Tail in accordance with her mother’s final wish.
A man wearing a cloak stepped out of the guild hall.
Cana recognized him immediately.
She had seen him in photographs countless times.
It was her father, Gildarts.
She stared at him without blinking until he finally noticed her gaze and looked back.
Cana’s eyes lit up.
A smile spread across her face, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.
At last, she had found the father she had longed to meet.
“You should hurry home,” Gildarts said.
Cana froze.
He gave her a friendly smile and continued walking without another glance.
“If you hang around a place like this, your clothes will end up smelling like booze!”
Cana took several small steps after him and reached out toward his retreating back, sadness filling her eyes.
‘Why?’
‘Why didn’t he realize who I was?’
In the end, she slowly lowered her hand and stopped walking.
Her head drooped.
Before she could gather the courage to tell her father who she was, the opportunity had already passed.
“Hey, Ron!
“What new character are you playing today?”
Gildarts’s voice came from nearby, pulling Cana out of her misery.
He had stopped a short distance away and was talking to a strangely dressed child with his hands on his hips.
Gildarts was covering his mouth as he laughed, clearly amused.
The boy wore a long, dark-purple robe with intricate golden embroidery along the front.
A pointed helmet made from cardboard covered his head, complete with cheek guards on either side, leaving only his eyes, nose, and mouth visible.
Even from the small portion of his face she could see, he projected a solemn, composed air.
“Hello.”
Ron gave Gildarts a brief nod and said nothing more.
Gildarts already knew the boy spent his days portraying characters from the scripts he wrote.
Seeing Ron come up with an entirely new look every few days, he found the child’s determined attempt to remain serious rather adorable.
Laughing, Gildarts patted one of Ron’s cardboard shoulder guards and strode away.
Ron watched him leave, then turned toward the guild entrance.
When Cana saw the strange boy approaching, she nervously tugged her dog aside to make room.
As they passed one another, Ron briefly met her eyes and noticed the sadness hanging over her.
He did not ask any questions.
He merely gave her a quiet nod before pushing open the guild doors and entering.
After Ron disappeared inside, Cana looked back at her father’s receding figure and murmured, “Is Ron a Fairy Tail Mage like Dad?”
…
Ron drew everyone’s attention the moment he entered the guild hall.
The first floor was as noisy as ever.
Ignoring the familiar stares directed at his latest costume, Ron silently crossed the room and stopped before the request board.
He scanned the posted jobs, then tore down an E-Class request that suited his needs.
E-Class jobs were little more than simple errands and miscellaneous labor, though they usually paid slightly better than ordinary temporary work around town.
Maintaining his stern expression, Ron walked to the bar and placed the request on the wooden counter.
Makarov, who was in the middle of drinking, looked down at Ron’s cardboard helmet.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Judging by that outfit, I take it you’ve written another script?”
Ron nodded without speaking.
Makarov glanced at the request sheet and frowned.
“This is your first job.
Don’t you want to bring a partner?”
Ron tilted his helmet downward and shook his head.
“All right.
Just be careful and don’t get hurt.”
Seeing how determined Ron was, Makarov decided not to argue and approved the request.
“Good luck with your first job.”
“Thank you.”
Leaving those two words behind, Ron turned and walked away under Makarov’s watchful gaze.
The Guild Master shook his head and returned to his overflowing wooden mug.
…
Not long afterward, Ron arrived at his destination—a fairly large slaughterhouse.
The owner came out to meet him.
After confirming the Fairy Tail mark on his arm, she led him to a processing room beside the chicken pens.
A sharp, nauseating odor filled the room, born from the unpleasant mixture of blood and chicken droppings.
“Your work is simple, sweetheart,” the woman explained.
“You just need to process the chickens in these cages.
All the knives are on the table.”
One of their regular workers had fallen seriously ill and had been sent home to recover, leaving the slaughterhouse short-handed.
“If you become frightened or can’t stomach it, you can call me at any—”
Before she could finish, Ron had already walked to the wooden table and picked up a butcher knife stained with dried blood.
Seeing him put on a pair of gloves without hesitation, the woman breathed a sigh of relief.
She left him to his work and returned to her own duties.
Cluck, cluck, cluck!
Ron reached into one of the cages, seized a chicken by the neck, and pulled it out.
Cluck!
Cluck!
Cluck!
The bird thrashed wildly in his grip, desperately trying to escape.
Slash!
Ron brought the blade across its neck in one clean motion.
The chicken immediately went still.
At that moment, Ron’s eyes widened slightly with excitement.
System notifications appeared before him.
[Permanent Intelligence Steal activated.]
(If you dont know how silencer ability works in dota, in the game whenever he kills he gain intelligence stats which increase his mana)
[Target deceased.
Forced extraction completed.]
[Maximum magic power and mental strength increased by 0.01.]
‘It works!’
The corner of Ron’s mouth lifted, but his hands never slowed.
He grabbed a second chicken and drained its blood with the same clean efficiency.
Then came the third.
The fourth.
Slash!
Slash!
Slash!
Before long, the only sounds in the processing room were the merciless strokes of Ron’s knife and the dying cries of the chickens.
…
Several hours later, the owner decided to take a break and check on how the strange child was doing.
The moment she peeked into the processing room, she froze.
Processed chickens were piled across the entire table.
Ron’s apron was splattered with dark-red blood.
More than half of his cardboard helmet had been stained as well, and the blood soaking into its edges had left them wrinkled, soft, and sagging.
Ron remained completely focused on his work, unaware that she was watching him.
His eyes were shining, and the faint smile on his face showed no trace of fatigue.
If anything, he seemed to be growing more excited with every chicken he killed.
The sight made the woman’s scalp prickle, and goose bumps spread across her back.
“Maybe…
I shouldn’t disturb him.”
She swallowed, silently backed away, and hurried somewhere else to rest.
Inside the room, Ron watched one [+0.01] notification appear after another.
His knife never stopped.
Like a tireless machine, he continued draining blood and harvesting magic power and mental strength.