Flower petals fell, lining the corners of Kyoto's streets. The sky was overcast but not oppressive, instead feeling peaceful. Traffic moved without chaos. Electric cars glided silently, traffic lights changing with precision like a quiet routine dance. And the footsteps of pedestrians never hurried.
Alaric walked casually on the broad sidewalk. One hand rested in his pocket, the other holding a small piece of paper with a map.
There was no more corporate mission pressure, no more anxiety over the stolen inheritance.
His grandfather's villa was restored, and his father's company was gradually entering safer waters. The stall felt like a tiny haven, untouched by the pace of the world around it.
It was the first time in weeks he could hear his own thoughts without a sense of urgency lurking beneath.
This time, his chest felt light.
A warm sweet aroma greeted him from the right side. Under a small red umbrella, an elderly woman of mixed Asian and Western heritage smiled at him.
On her table, rows of steamed buns were neatly arranged. Steam rose like little clouds eager to embrace anyone who was hungry.
"Try one," she said in English thick with a Kansai accent. "Sweet bean or meat?"
Alaric smiled, tilting his head. "One of each," he replied, slipping yen into a small bamboo box on the table.
He took two buns and sat on a simple wooden bench facing the street.
The first bite warmed his mouth. The dough felt soft like a little pillow fresh out of the steam. The sweet bean filling was just right, never overpowering but acknowledging its place in the flavor.
But that tranquility didn't last long.
From the corner of his eye, he saw two children walking along the sidewalk. They seemed around eight or nine years old. One wore a bear-head hat, the other leaned casually while dragging a small wheeled bag.
They paused in front of the granny's stall but didn't buy anything. Instead, they stood a few steps ahead of Alaric.
One of them pulled a keychain from his pocket. It looked like a tiny red net made of string, with two black beads in the center and some decorations that resembled miniature fangs.
"This… I made myself from a broken curtain thread," said the bear-hat child, voice full of pride, like an inventor presenting his greatest creation to the world.
"It's called the Web of Courage. Because when I'm afraid of the dark, I imagine it can catch my fear."
His friend turned with interest. "That's cool. But mine is cooler."
He pulled out a keychain shaped like a car… but with a small toy airplane on top. Like a car carrying a plane.
"It's called Cloud Carrier!" he said proudly. "When I grow up, I want to build a car that can carry airplanes anywhere. So the sky can be closer to the earth!"
Alaric suppressed a laugh, not out of mockery. Instead, a warm feeling grew in his chest. The kids were silly, yes… but also honest and free.
They made their own little world with their small hands and believed completely in its meaning.
Alaric murmured softly, voice barely audible.
"They're kind of adorable, aren't they?"
[Ding!]
[System detected an increase in empathy and social observation]
[Optional Mission Open: Mini Project—Street Crafts]
→ Objective: Create & Sell Handmade Crafts to 100 People in 7 Days.
→ Reward: Integrity Token x3 + Social Skill: "Microtrade Analysis"
Alaric looked up sharply. "Huh?"
The notification floated in the air. The system displayed it without warning.
The two children didn't notice anything. They were still playing with the building's shadows. Unaware that their playful moment had just triggered a mission branch that Alaric never imagined.
"Handmade… crafts?" Alaric looked at the buns in his hand, then at his bag. No tools, no materials, no experience.
But somehow, that made his heartbeat skip softly.
[This is not a test of strength. This is about the soul.]
[Creativity is personal expression. Understanding the value of simple things can unlock advanced social insight.]
Alaric chuckled. "You're actually serious about this?" he asked the system.
No response. Just a countdown notification starting:
[7D:00H:00M] Time Remaining
He stared at the sky turning orange. In the distance, temple bells chimed once. The kids had disappeared down the alley, but their shadows lingered in his mind. As did the meaning of their little keychains.
"Cloud Carrier, huh…?"
Alaric stood slowly. He slipped the remaining buns into a paper bag, then walked along the sidewalk with a new stride.
Not the stride of a businessman. Not the stride of an heir.
But the stride of someone who, for the first time, wanted to create something simple… but meaningful.
And from there, his pioneering mission began. From broken curtain thread and leftover crafting plastic, from a small street stall to the first 100 people who will evaluate. Can value emerge from honest hands and heart.
His steps carried him through Kyoto's streets, now quiet against the approaching night. Streetlights glowed softly, reflecting on wet asphalt from the light drizzle a few hours ago.
The paper bag of buns was now empty, only the scent of warmth lingering on his fingers.
Alaric let out a long breath and slowed his pace. In front of a park bench facing a small lake, he stopped. No one else was there. Only the gentle splashing of water, falling leaves, and himself.
He sat down.
Then he leaned back.
And started thinking.
"Selling, huh…" he murmured, folding his arms. "But selling where?"
His gaze drifted toward the dim sky. In his mind, two maps unfolded. One showed familiar narrow streets in Jakarta, the other Japan—with all its unfamiliarity.
"Maybe go back to Indonesia? I know the terrain there. Can promote online, use my social accounts, edit videos myself, open a marketplace. If it doesn't sell I can just offer it to college friends…"
Alaric nodded slightly. Logic spoke.
"Easier, safer."
But another part of him, bold and filled with strange impulses since connected to the system, whispered, "But safe doesn't mean better."
"Hmm…"
He looked down, plucked a fallen maple leaf from his knee. He examined each vein, as if searching for an answer.
"In Japan?" he thought again. "I don't know anyone here. I don't understand the regulations. The language is still shaky. How can it sell? Selling handmade keychains again..."
His head touched the bench back, his eyes closed.
[Ding!]
[Option: Selling Location Unlocked]
→ Selling in Indonesia: Potential Progress +11%
→ Selling in Japan: Potential Progress +32%
Alaric's eyes opened wide. The notification hovered in the air, bright in the quiet night. The numbers glowed clearly, tempting with a stark disparity.
"Whoa… triple? That's way more than selling in Indonesia," he murmured. The number seemed to say that the unfamiliar often holds more than the comfortable place.
His body sat upright now, his eyes fixed on the numbers.
His progress bar was still at 14%. After three serious missions. Brutal mental tutorial, saving the family home, then investigating the office and reclaiming the foreign villa. All of it raised the percentage only this far.
And now, just selling keychains, could raise it by +32%?
He chuckled softly, half confused, half impressed.
"What is this?"
Was the system just playing games, or was it trying to teach him something more subtle. About life, about connection?
Alaric closed his eyes for a moment. Trying to visualize both possibilities.
In Indonesia, he could move fast. Many connections, support, flexibility. Promotion via social media, content creation is easy, affordable logistics. Plus lots of college friends. He could even run social challenges or small giveaways to attract buyers.
But, progress is only 11%.
In Japan? He was truly a stranger. But that was where the challenge—and maybe… the opportunity to expand his influence.
Alaric murmured. "If it's just progress, clearly Japan wins."
But beneath his voice, there was hesitation.
Then he glared at the system again, and softly asked:
"And if progress hits 100%. Then what? What do I get?"
The notification stayed silent for two seconds.
Then the message appeared:
[Information Cannot Be Revealed.]
[Reward is Random. Could be: Skill, Token, System Branch, or Special Access.]
→ But the system guarantees… the reward is extraordinary and will not disappoint.
He narrowed his eyes. "So it's a guessing game, huh…"
He leaned back again on the bench. This time, not in confusion—but in curiosity.
"I don't even know how this SSS‑Rank scale works. Like a gacha system… but serious." He laughed softly.
"And now I'm… the main character, but I can't ask about spoilers."
[Appropriate]
[Spoilers will ruin the natural emotional development of Subject: ALARIC.]
→ The system remains companion. But the path is yours to define.
Alaric stared blankly ahead. Across from him, the small lake was calm. But his mind was not. He knew, this decision wasn't just about selling keychains. But about who he is now, and how he wants to be known.
"Alright," he finally said. "32% progress. Foreign country. Full challenge."
He stood up, squared his shoulders, and let out a long breath.
"Japan it is," he said not as an ordinary decision, but like sealing a deal with his braver self.