The Master’s Lies and a New Path

Early in the morning, Kuroki Nao sat at the dining table, scrutinizing Tang Wenxu with the gaze of a detective examining a high-profile criminal.

“Master, are you certain you haven’t engaged in anything dangerous? Like adventurer work, perhaps?”

“No,” Tang Wenxu replied, his voice hitching slightly.

“Really?” Kuroki Nao asked, her voice laced with suspicion. “Then where did those injuries come from?”

“Oh dear,” Tang Wenxu simpered, affecting a cute, innocent expression. “I just tripped while walking. I’m such a clumsy oaf.”

“Is that so?” Kuroki Nao’s face clearly conveyed her disbelief. “Eat this bowl of pork cutlet rice, and then spill everything.”

Tang Wenxu, looking at the imaginary bowl of katsudon, played along with the interrogation skit. “Officer Kuroki, trust me, I’m truly innocent.”

“Every criminal says that. Now, look into Nao’s eyes.”

She forcefully cupped Tang Wenxu’s face. He couldn’t dodge in time and was compelled to meet her gaze. After a long moment of shared silence, Kuroki Nao suddenly burst into a giggle.

“Master, you’re absolutely hopeless; you can’t lie at all. Your eyes always dart away whenever you try.”

It was the same this time, and it had been the same every time before. She could always see through Tang Wenxu’s lies.

Tang Wenxu paused, then scratched his head. After a moment of thought, he sighed. “There’s no helping it.”

“Alright, I admit I did register as an adventurer yesterday.” The moment Tang Wenxu confessed, he glanced up at Kuroki Nao. Seeing her about to erupt, he quickly added, “But don’t worry, I won’t do anything dangerous. After a day’s work yesterday, I realized I’m not suited for it, so I’ve already unregistered.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Tang Wenxu nodded.

“Hmm, seeing such sincerity in your eyes, I believe you. Don’t ever lie to Nao again—not that you could ever fool me anyway.”

“Ah, haha,” Tang Wenxu chuckled, a polite but awkward sound.

Kuroki Nao gently stroked Tang Wenxu’s head. “You must be a good boy from now on, okay? Nao will make you happy.”

“What do you mean, ‘be a good boy’? Are you treating me like a baby? I’m two years older than you; you should call me Onii-san,” Tang Wenxu declared, attempting to adopt the air of an elder brother.

“Onii-chan~” Nao leaned in close, calling out in a sugary, high-pitched voice.

“Good girl~” Tang Wenxu patted her head. Indeed, the head pat had to come from the boy.

After they finished eating, Kuroki Nao asked, “Master, are you looking for work again today?”

“No,” Tang Wenxu shook his head. “Today, I want to be a lazy bum.”

“Then I’m off, my lazy-bum master.”

“Be careful on your way.”

Although Tang Wenxu always appeared relaxed when he was with Kuroki Nao, a subtle sadness perpetually radiated from his eyes. This sorrow and sense of loneliness intensified especially when he watched Kuroki Nao’s retreating back.

In truth, Kuroki Nao was much the same. Whenever her back was turned to Tang Wenxu, her lively, adorable, girlish face would vanish without a trace, replaced by a cold, god-like expression, devoid of both joy and sorrow.

She was truly Kuroki Nao only when Tang Wenxu was present. And he, too, was truly Tang Wenxu only when she was there.

Once again, he found himself utterly alone.

Tang Wenxu, as was his custom, sat quietly by the church entrance, listlessly watching the children play games of tag or knights. However, upon noticing his presence, the children didn’t continue their games as usual. Instead, they all scattered out of the courtyard, as if deliberately avoiding him.

Tang Wenxu sighed, realizing he truly was disliked this time. It was his own fault for scolding them last night. He felt a pang of hurt. He glanced at the wooden sword. Perhaps he should practice his skills.

But… he couldn’t grip the hilt; his hand trembled slightly.

He felt a profound disgust for his own “saintly” mindset. He loathed his inability to integrate into the callous reality of the world like everyone else.

Oh, if only I had a computer. Then he could watch anime or play games. The 2D world was beautiful and gentle, and most importantly, it could help him escape this damned reality. He recalled a line from the beginning of No Game No Life: “This reality is just a crappy game.”

“Yes, this truly is the worst game,” he murmured, gazing at the dim sky.

Without Nao, he probably would have despaired to the point of suicide long ago. Or perhaps not. He was just a cowardly shut-in; how could he simply die? Even suicide required courage, after all. He gave a self-deprecating laugh.

How weak he was. How utterly unsuccessful. Yet, thanks to Nao, he could still feel a sliver of warmth in this wretched reality.

“Nao, thank you for everything. Always,” he mumbled.

“Words of gratitude should be spoken face-to-face.” A voice suddenly spoke from behind him, startling Tang Wenxu. It was Father Kant.

The sun must have risen in the west; the man was up surprisingly early.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you have a reason to become stronger? Why did you throw the sword away?” Father Kant asked.

“Sigh,” Tang Wenxu sighed. “Not everyone can become strong.”

“It seems you’ve experienced something. It’s good that you understand.” Father Kant seemed to agree with his sentiment, nodding.

“What should I do? I can’t just keep staying in the church, eating free meals.”

“Your cooking isn’t bad, is it? Why not become a chef? Komi City is a big city; there’s definitely a place for you to thrive there.”

“That’s right.” Father Kant’s words were a revelation. Not only was Tang Wenxu a good cook, but more importantly, he loved to cook.

“Thank you,” Tang Wenxu said to Father Kant. He now had a new direction. Perhaps in a few days, he would return to Komi City to look for a job as a chef.

Father Kant walked past him, heading towards the large gate of the church courtyard.

“Going out?” Tang Wenxu remembered how Father Kant would return covered in blood every day. He asked with a strange expression, “Don’t tell me you’re going fishing again?”

“I am a clergyman, after all. Of course, I’m going to work.”

Tang Wenxu, now quite familiar with Father Kant, made a small joke. “How rare. You actually do clerical work? Don’t tell me you’re going to sacrifice some heathens or something?”

Father Kant glared fiercely at him, huffing. “I’m officiating a wedding! Watch your tongue, boy, or how about I sacrifice you?” With that, he kicked open the church courtyard gate and vanished in a cloud of dust.

Was it definitely not a funeral? Tang Wenxu, however, possessed a strong will to live and did not voice that death-seeking thought.