Ron had taken to heart the saying that praise could make even a whale dance. You had to keep saying, “Good job, good job,” for someone to truly do well. Moreover, except for the jaw, one's ability to take a beating improved only by getting hit often.
“Even when taking a hit, you must protect your jaw. If you keep getting struck there, you may eventually develop a glass jaw or learn to lose consciousness at will.”
......BLEGH!
Ron was meticulous.
He consciously pummeled Tailon while distinguishing between the places that could be struck and those that should not, allowing him to make the optimal choice.
If he kept taking blows while consciously responding to them, his instincts could activate at the crossroads of life and death and save him. That was how important a conscious response was.
‘Damn, I lost track of time.’
Ron was smiling, but his patience was steadily running dry. It was an unavoidable physiological instinct.
He had finished work and reached his own front door.
Yet he was unable to go inside because he was stuck arguing with his superior right in front of it. Any office worker would have been furious. It was like receiving work instructions over KakaoTalk after getting home.
The fact that he still did not lose his smile was the sorrow of a master-servant relationship governed by absolute obedience.
‘......Aaargh, how long is he going to keep beating me?!’
Regret washed over Tailon.
He should have given up when he lost consciousness.
“You must not want to admit defeat like this. How about I break one arm and one leg? Only then will you retain the tenacity of having resisted to the end, even in defeat.”
“......?”
Tailon, who had been beaten for quite some time, recoiled in horror. Had he been able to move, he would have leaped up as though having a seizure.
‘......He's joking, right?’
Never in his life could he remember being beaten like this. Yet Ron was calmly saying that he would break his arms and legs. A fear greater than when Ron raged like fire swept over him.
SHIVER, TREMBLE!
There was no killing intent in his voice.
That made it even more terrifying.
Ron looked as though he would smile benevolently while snapping his limbs one by one, like breaking a bird's legs. Afterward, Tailon might even have to return home and bring out gold, silver, and treasure.
This bastard was more than capable of doing exactly that.
“...I lost!”
“What a shame.”
Tailon swallowed dryly at Ron's disappointed exclamation as he smacked his lips.
“Please get up.”
“......How am I supposed to stand right now?!”
“Tsk, damn it!”
“...I'm up! Look, I'm standing... Huh? How did I do this?”
Tailon had thought he could not even control his body, yet he cried out that it was a miracle when he found himself standing. He realized just how powerful the human instinct for survival could be.
‘That bastard would've stomped on me if I hadn't gotten up!’
Once the job was complete, quality inspection was essential. Ron looked at Tailon and asked.
“Have your suspicions been resolved? If not, I will try a little harder.”
“...They're resolved! All of them! Can I go now?”
“When did I ever hold you here?”
“...Ah, right. I'm leaving!”
“Come find me whenever you wish. I am always prepared to challenge myself for a tomorrow different from today.”
“...Yeah, see you later!”
“I sincerely hope we do.”
This was the first time Ron had beaten him, but he already had a feeling. If Tailon came by from time to time in the future, he would be perfect for relieving stress. Furthermore, he was too proud to go around telling people what had happened today. The fact that Ron could beat him to his heart's content without any consequences was an excellent advantage unique to the Second Young Master.
WHOOSH—!
The Second Young Master's recovery was impressive as well. He had barely managed to stand, yet he vanished from sight in an instant.
Hmm.
Ron watched the Second Young Master disappear and thought.
“As expected, he's useless.”
Judging by the lack of change in the Progress Rate, the Second Young Master was utterly worthless for House Leonard Development.
The weakling and the fucking idiot were probably the same.
Considering how heavily it emphasized Adelia, the system was guilty of gender inequality as well.
This was House Leonard's problem.
By modern standards, House Leonard would at least qualify as a strong small-to-medium enterprise. Yet despite operating at the level of a midsized company, it was still family-run. How could it possibly succeed if it stumbled even slightly?
In any case, Tailon had allowed Ron to confirm the direction of House Leonard Development.
“Time to go inside.”
At last, he could enter his own home.
It would have been troublesome if Tailon had suggested having a cup of tea. Ron preferred not to let outsiders into his home whenever possible.
He grabbed the doorknob and released the safety mechanism.
RATTLE—!
A five-meter corridor stretched before him as he stepped inside. It was an unusual structure. It might have been understandable for a mansion, but homes whose doors opened directly onto a corridor were uncommon.
The mechanisms beneath the floor were designed to activate under pressure. If the weight fell outside the predetermined range, the intruder would be turned into a hedgehog and the corridor would seal shut.
Ron had never studied architecture, but he knew a fair amount about Mechanical Formations.
“Flying through wasn't part of my assumptions, though.”
It was not perfect.
There were no countermeasures against the Fly spell. Just in case, he had placed silver wires at the very end.
“This is why building an anti-theft system is so difficult.”
He only wanted to protect his home completely, yet thieves refused to understand how the owner felt. That was why vermin who coveted other people's property had to be killed without exception. If they intended to plead unavoidable circumstances, they should not have entered someone else's home in the first place.
He took off his outdoor clothes and washed.
“Even washing used to be an ordeal.”
After first awakening the memories of his previous life, he had struggled greatly with the lack of waterworks and sewerage. Hygiene had been a serious problem, yet he could not even complain. At the time, he had been living in the old man's house and could not bring himself to grumble.
In any case, before moving in, the aspects he had focused on most while building the house were the water supply and drainage.
He dug deep beneath the floor to create an underground route and laid long pipes through it. He also installed a large cistern on the roof to collect rainwater so that he could turn on the water and use it.
Such facilities were the foundation of hygiene in the modern world, but building the water supply and drainage himself had been tremendously difficult. Small things that had once felt as natural as air became the source of inconvenience in this world.
SHHHHH!
When he turned on the water, a stream poured from the fixed showerhead. He had gone through no small number of failures while making this showerhead as well. Only now had he finally established the framework necessary to shower like a modern person.
It would have been difficult even if he had known modern science, engineering, and technology, but Ron had spent his previous life too busy fighting.
He had built this house stitch by painstaking stitch with the scraps of half-assed knowledge he barely possessed.
That was why he was especially attached to it.
BUBBLE, BUBBLE!
Of course, it did not produce hot water. Instead, he converted his aura into heat and used it to warm the water.
“It would be nice if I could obtain water automatically.”
To make that possible, he would have to connect the pipes to a stream in a valley at the mountain's summit, which was currently impossible. Even if he built it, maintenance would be difficult.
There would also be uncomfortable stares asking, “What is that?”
It would be nice to build a pump that drew groundwater, but frankly, he had no idea where to begin.
His only viable options were to learn magic or spirit arts, or to use a Magic Tool.
But he did not want to go that far. When was he supposed to learn magic and spirit arts at his age?
“Fetching water at night is romantic.”
Doing it during the day was awkward, so whenever he ran low on water, he refilled the supply at night.
He changed into a short-sleeved T-shirt and shorts. He had ordered several identical sets in the same color and design.
He settled comfortably onto the sofa he had made himself.
“Shop Window.”
Since he was in his own private space with no one else around, he decided to collect the rewards he had postponed.
HUMMM—!
A space opened in midair like a subspace, revealing its internal structure to Ron.
Huh?
It consisted of two box-like sections arranged side by side.
The section on the right held items, weapons, and Traits, while the left contained goods under a very familiar name.
[Grocery Section]
-Instant Foods
-Convenience Meals
-Snacks
-Beverages
-Seasonings
It was the indispensable lifestyle platform of modern people: a convenience store.
Although it was limited to groceries, it still filled Ron with nostalgia for modern civilization.
It was built so that he could enter.
He could touch the goods, but ownership would not transfer until he paid at checkout.
The shelves were not fully stocked with food.
The store was on the smaller side, and empty spaces were scattered throughout it. Judging by the prices, only items that could be bought for 1 Coin were on display.
If that remained true even though he currently had 6 Coins, there was a possibility that the store's scale would expand into a discount mart as the Progress Rate increased. In game terms, rewards changing according to Grade was practically a built-in feature.
But the goods had expiration dates.
Did that mean they would be marked as sold once their time elapsed? The items on the opposite side had time limits as well, meaning that if he failed to buy them that day, he might never be able to obtain them again. Was it a limited-time system where choosing poorly meant losing the chance to purchase something forever?
The sale periods were random.
It was disappointing, but complaining because the supply was not unlimited would be the whining of someone spoiled by abundance.
Besides.
“RAMEN!!!!!!!!”
Limited time or not, the weapons, items, and Traits on the right no longer even entered his vision.
One Coin bought ten packets of ramen.
Six Coins meant sixty packets—two whole boxes.
If the Shop were upgraded.
Instant rice, cup noodles, soybean paste soup, kimchi stew, seaweed soup, lunch boxes, triangular rice balls(tuna mayo), gimbap, sandwiches, hamburgers, snacks... and so on and so forth.
Just imagining it.
Wow.
His mouth watered instantly.
Even so, none of that compared to the shock of seeing ramen itself. If asked what food he had wanted most after awakening the memories of his previous life, the answer was unquestionably ramen.
Why?
Because this artificial, stimulating flavor was an essential source of nutrition for a civilized person who had once lived as a modern man.
How was MSG nutritious?
A knight who had mastered aura did not succumb to MSG.
The truth was that anyone who ate nothing but bland, mild food would inevitably begin to miss MSG.
Without hesitation, Ron picked up all sixty packets of ramen.
-6 Coins Consumed
The moment his Coins disappeared, Ron realized his mistake.
“I didn't buy kimchi!”
He had forgotten kimchi, ramen's perfect partner. However, the amount of kimchi sold for 1 Coin was barely enough to fill a soy sauce saucer.
Was that simply what one should expect from a convenience store?
It felt like a loss leader.
“Then again, who knows.”
After buying the ramen, the senses that had been completely captivated finally returned to him. Only then did he notice the weapons section on the right.
Low-Grade Weapons.
It contained all manner of martial-world weapons—straight swords, sabers, spears, axes, staves, and more—as well as Western cold weapons such as longswords, rapiers, claymores, morning stars, warhammers, battle-axes, bows... and so on.
Armor, siege weapons, and firearms had not been unlocked.
Considering they were labeled Low-Grade Weapons, their Grade would probably rise each time the Shop leveled up.
He picked up a claymore.
Hmm.
He had assumed that Low-Grade meant nothing impressive, but once he held it, he felt almost guilty. It was at least three times harder and sharper than the standard-issue sword he cherished. It starkly demonstrated the limitations of standard equipment.
“A master calligrapher is not choosy about his brush.”
Ron consoled himself as he looked at the reassuring pile of sixty ramen packets.
Even so, a better sword was still better.
The notion that masters did not care about their swords was nothing more than prejudice. In truth, the more skilled the master, the more a subtle difference could decide victory or defeat, making them desire famed swords all the more. There was a reason the martial world erupted whenever a Divine Weapon appeared and why such events so often escalated into bloodshed. Martial artists were not fucking idiots. Why would they run wild if they knew they were going to die?
“But I'm different.”
If the difference in caliber was great enough, even a famed sword was useless.
He forced himself to ignore the weapons and turned toward the Traits Section.
Stamina, Strength, Reflexes, Discernment, Comprehension, Aura, Magic Power, Luck, and more.
They were attributes related to talent.
For 1 Coin, he could purchase 0.01 points in a given talent.
He did not yet know what the numbers meant.
Even so, it could not be much.
That tiny difference might determine victory or defeat for a master, but to a beginner who had only just started, it was like a rice cake in a picture—visible but out of reach.
Of course, it would still be useful for both the teacher and the student.
“For now, if I work them hard enough, something will come of it.”
It did not seem that the Shop held only individual talents. Judging by the empty sections, there were probably attributes related to managing House Leonard as well. Resources, economy, culture, population, military strength, environment, combat power, and so forth, for example.
In any case, that was only speculation. For now, he needed to put water on to boil.
He had not been hungry, but after seeing the ramen, there was no way he could let the night pass without eating it.
Late-night ramen might be the final fate of one who had given up on tomorrow, but that was precisely why its temptation was so intense and difficult to resist.
Even if his face became puffy and he gained weight tomorrow, he had to eat it tonight.
Still, he should show some restraint.
He would eat just one packet.
Even sixty packets would disappear quickly if he kept eating them.
“I need a gas stove too.”
Igniting a flame with Samadhi True Fire was fine once or twice, but boiling ramen with a pot balanced on his palm did not bring out the flavor of modern civilization.
“Damn, that's too much water.”
Unfortunately, it was enough water for five packets.
It was a mistake.
But he would not throw it away. In the desert, a single mouthful of water could save a person's life.
BUBBLE, BUBBLE!
Left with no choice, he added five packets and their seasoning powder and boiled them together.
From the smell, it was a rich, spicy ramen made by Ottogi.
“Wow, this is killer.”
As someone with experience, he tried not to get excited, but the immovable mind he had cultivated over the years was shaken by a single blast of ramen's artificial aroma.
It seemed nature could not defeat the artificial.
Let things take their natural course, and the highest good is like water—my ass.
The food Ron hated most was natural health food. He would rather pull up weeds and eat them than consume that sort of thing.
Waiting for it to cook.
Five minutes was a long time.
He wanted to scoop up the undercooked noodles and eat them immediately, but as a civilized man who remembered his previous life, he could not do that.
He regained his shaken composure, waited five minutes, and opened the lid of the pot. He had never imagined this situation, but he was glad he had made a pot. Anything one made would eventually prove useful.
SLURP, SLURP!
It was a shame he had no kimchi, but—kaaah, this was incredible!
It tasted so good that a meal for two could end in serial murder.
When the taste of artificial seasoning entered a body that had eaten nothing but unpolluted natural ingredients, his dopamine shot upward without knowing where the sky ended.
“This is paradise.”
With ramen added to his peaceful current life, he finally felt as though his existence had become complete.
No wonder something had felt missing.
Sigh.
Paradise, if only for a moment.
He devoured all five packets of ramen in an instant.
“Damn, I only have fifty-five packets left.”
A single Coin carried such weight. He would have to ration them for the time being.
Even so, he found himself conflicted.
“Would investing be better than saving?”