[Your Satiety is maxed out!
Stop drinking!]
Daigan held his teacup, trying to pour more down his throat, while the System frantically tried to stop him.
[If you drink any more, it’s going to back up to your esophagus!]
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have eaten that bread earlier!”
[Just wait until her next tea party to drink more!]
“Who knows when her next one will be?!”
[One day for her is only twenty-four minutes for you.
Host, you can afford to wait!]
In the tug-of-war between Daigan and the System, Daigan remained completely motionless, holding his teacup midair.
This sight caught the attention of several people at the tea party.
Seeing Daigan staring blankly into his teacup, Sandrone couldn’t help but ask, “Had enough?”
The moment the words left her mouth, two lines of faint gold, translucent text floated into Daigan’s vision.
[Stop drinking, Host!
A choice prompt appeared—the system choices you unlocked earlier!]
“Choices?”
[From the Gnosis quest!]
He had never used this feature before and had almost forgotten about it.
Daigan looked at the two options.
Faced with Sandrone’s friendly question:
Option 1: Almost, but another pot would be even better.
Option 2: Mm.
“What’s this?” Seeing Daigan temporarily stop drinking his tea, the System’s voice quickly rang out.
[Host, this is the choice system unlocked earlier!
Previous conversations were handled by the system agent, but now you can choose for yourself!]
Daigan looked at the two options, his eyebrows knitting slightly.
“That’s…
convenient.”
[It’s fine, Host.
This is the first time, so there are only basic positive and negative options.
Once you’ve answered enough of them, the System will offer options tailored to your persona based on your preferences.]
“Mm…
Sandrone’s favorability toward me should be quite low.”
Though Daigan was a man of few words, it didn’t mean he was entirely clueless about social dynamics.
When favorability was low, one should try to select polite answers.
After all, they weren’t close at all, so making an insensitive joke would come off as thoroughly off-putting.
Looking at it this way:
Option 1 seemed too greedy, while Option 2 seemed too cold.
His persona was naturally taciturn.
Perhaps Option 2 was better and more normal—relationships, after all, needed to progress step by step.
…
Beside the tea table, Sandrone waited for a full dozen seconds.
Seeing Daigan not even flutter an eyelid while staring foolishly into his teacup, her patience finally ran out.
She let out a cold sneer, her tone sharp with venom.
“What?
You drink my tea and stay under my roof, yet I don’t even deserve an answer to a simple ‘Had enough?'”
[Host!
Hurry and choose!
The NPC is angry!] the System urged frantically in his mind.
Daigan’s gaze quickly swept over the two options.
Finally, his finger moved slightly, selecting the simplest response.
Daigan raised his head and looked at Sandrone earnestly.
“Mm.”
The low, single syllable overlapped precisely with Sandrone’s barbed interrogation.
To the onlookers, Daigan had likely just signed his own death warrant.
The atmosphere instantly froze.
Sandrone’s face darkened before she let out a smile.
“Pronia, our guest is feeling chilly.
Help him move his chair.”
Beneath that warm smile, her voice was as cold as ice shards.
Before her words even finished fading, Pronia skillfully extended a mechanical arm, grabbing the back of Daigan’s chair in one firm grip.
Under everyone’s astonished gazes, Daigan—chair and all—was hauled straight over to the fireplace.
The flames raged furiously, sending a wave of searing heat against his face, warming up his cold expression in an instant.
“System, did I lag?
Where’s the tea?” Just as Daigan selected “Mm” and reached out his hand to pick up his cup, the data interface in front of his eyes refreshed.
The tea table was gone, replaced by the scorching fire of the hearth.
[Host, the NPC got angry.]
Daigan was thoroughly bewildered.
“But I answered ‘Mm.'”
[…Host, your deliberation took too long.
The NPC already initiated a new action,] the System explained weakly.
“Is she really in that much of a hurry?”
Daigan stared blankly at his empty hands, then looked at the fireplace before him.
[It’s all your fault.]
“How can you blame me?
I chose ‘Mm.'”
Meanwhile, in the eyes of the others, this Harbinger who had just been “exiled” to the corner was currently staring blankly into thin air.
The Captain silently watched Daigan from afar.
Arlecchino had already witnessed a similar scene before; she merely closed her eyes calmly and sipped her tea, pretending not to notice.
“So that’s how it is,” Columbina murmured.
Her eyes, hidden behind her blindfold, actually opened slightly, a subtle smile touching her face.
“Ahem, Daigan’s actually pretty easygoing, isn’t he?” Tartaglia watched the scene unfold, nearly choking on his bread.
“He just backed down like that?”
“Hm?
Put like that, it sounds like I’m the one throwing an unreasonable tantrum.”
“No, no, I’m just a bit surprised,” Tartaglia chuckled awkwardly.
Sandrone scoffed, preparing to toss out a few taunt-filled remarks, but Columbina suddenly set down her bread and spoke with a gentle smile.
“Sandrone spoke too fast.
He didn’t have time to process it.”
“What?” Sandrone blinked.
“Daigan was answering Sandrone’s previous question,” Columbina said, pointing toward Daigan.
At that moment, Daigan was staring coldly into the hearth without a single trace of grievance on his face.
“You mean his ‘Mm’ just now was answering ‘Had enough?'” Tartaglia’s eyes widened.
Arlecchino set down her teacup, her tone filled with doubt.
“Even the children newly brought into the House of the Hearth wouldn’t have such slow reaction times.”
“No, it is not entirely impossible.” Capitano gazed at Daigan’s corpse-like, out-of-body demeanor and spoke in a deep voice.
“Mr.
Daigan’s heart is as still as unruffled water.
Perhaps he has reached a certain extreme realm…
He responded to the essence of Sandrone’s words, not her tone.”
“Are you saying he has water in his brain?” The corner of Sandrone’s mouth twitched.
Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Tartaglia abruptly stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the floor.
“Why don’t we just go ask him directly!”
He strode toward the fireplace, the firelight stretching their shadows into long, wavering shapes.
Daigan remained seated upright in his chair, his gaze calmly fixed on the dancing flames.
*If my Satiety drops, can I go back over to drink?*
[Host, all three of your wishes are pretty hard to grant.]
[Host, you’d better wait until it actually drops before talking to me.
It looks like someone else is coming over to question you.]
“Daigan!” Tartaglia’s voice came from behind, brimming with a youth’s characteristic excitement.
“Come fight me!”
The moment the words left his mouth, a new prompt popped up in Daigan’s vision.
[Triggered Side Quest: Tartaglia’s Invitation] [Objective: Engage in combat with Tartaglia (Optional targets: The Captain, Sandrone, Columbina, Arlecchino, Pronia, Automatic Tea-Pouring Unit)] [Reward: Reduced Satiety (Fluctuates based on opponent’s strength)] [Accept?]
“Decisively accept.”
Daigan’s gaze finally shifted away from the flames, landing on Tartaglia.
Pure battle intent burned bright in the youth’s eyes.
“Sure.”
The unexpected response startled Tartaglia for a second.
Daigan stood up, the metal chair legs scraping noisily against the floorboards.
He didn’t draw his sword.
He simply raised his right hand slowly, palm facing upward.
The light of the hearth flickered in his pupils, reflecting a cold amber hue.
“Alright then!”
With a formidable enemy before him, there was no need to think about anything else.
A wild smirk rose on Tartaglia’s lips, and with a flick of his wrist, Hydro element condensed into an exquisite dagger in his palm.
“Then I won’t hold back!”
Before his voice faded, he had already surged forward like an arrow released from a bowstring.
Amid the screeching howl of the water blade tearing through the air, Daigan’s figure suddenly blurred—
In the next moment, Tartaglia slashed down.
The strike met zero resistance, and Tartaglia instantly realized he had dodged it.
*So fast!*
Before he could turn around, a heavy pat landed on his shoulder.
An immense pressure crashed down, causing his feet to slip.
He nearly tumbled over, stumbling twice before steadying himself against the fireplace.
Tartaglia stared at the hearth in front of him, feeling several silent gazes fixed on his back.
He had just lost serious face.
“Ahem…” After standing firm, Tartaglia coughed awkwardly, attempting to ease the suffocating embarrassment.
“Well…
Hahaha!
Great reflexes!
Want to go again?”
When he turned around, however, he realized that nobody in the room was paying attention to him at all.
“Digest a bit?”
Daigan was already standing calmly before the tea table, looking down at the tall, imposing figure seated there.
The strongest person currently present was undoubtedly him!
“Hey, hey, don’t ignore me!”
Tartaglia could hardly believe it—he was being ignored!
He was the one who had initiated the duel in the first place!
The Captain silently looked back at Daigan.
Daigan’s eyes weren’t looking at his face at all; rather, he was staring intently at the half-filled cup of tea.