When tomorrow came, nothing special happened.
I got out of bed at the inn, washed my face with cold water, and wore my usual clothes. There was nothing in my body or mind that indicated I had become "super" in any way, as one would expect after gaining an ability.
I went to work as usual and completed my tasks: carrying boxes, cleaning weapons, arranging tools... just the same repetitive routine with no sign of the "Simple Movement Speed" ability I had acquired. I felt no difference.
Just as the window had said... a single drop in a full cup.
After the workday ended, I felt the need to escape the silence, to stop thinking about my underwhelming ability. So, instinctively, I headed to the usual spot where I often found Luxian — on top of a massive tree trunk near the headquarters. A tree that looked like it had seen more than the entire village combined.
He was lying on his back as always, arms behind his head, face turned toward the sky. Eyes closed... asleep, as I had expected.
I called out in a moderate tone:
"Luxian."
No response.
I stepped closer and repeated:
"Luxian…"
One of his eyes slowly opened, and he turned to look at me without changing his posture. Then he spoke in a half-sleepy, half-sarcastic tone:
"Oh? You came to me after opening your status window?"
I gave a faint smile and sat on a nearby rock, then asked:
"I wanted to ask you… Do you also have a field called 'Awareness Level' in your window?"
He raised an eyebrow with interest, then simply said:
"Yes, I have it."
I asked with growing curiosity:
"And… do you know what it does?"
He shrugged indifferently and replied:
"No. I asked the window once, but it completely ignored me."
I lifted my head quickly, my eyes wide:
"You too… can talk to the status window?!"
He looked at me with genuine confusion, then said:
"Of course. Anyone who has a status window can talk to it. What's new about that?"
Silence fell between us for a moment. I stared at the ground quietly, and he stared at me with increasing disbelief. Then he laughed and said:
"Wait, don't tell me... You thought you were the only one who could do that?"
I didn't answer. I didn't know how to.
He burst out laughing — that annoying mix of mockery and noise:
"HAHAHAHA! did you really think you were some anime protagonist?! You never fail to crack me up!"
As irritating as his words were, they were just part of his nature. I didn't argue. Instead, I changed the topic:
"So... why do you think the 'Awareness Level' field says 'Unknown'?"
He thought for a moment, then replied with sarcasm:
"Isn't it because our awareness level is zero?"
I chuckled softly, unable to help it, and said:
"That's impossible... If our awareness was zero, we'd be unconscious right now."
He suddenly raised his head and stared at me with surprised eyes:
"Wait… did you just laugh?!"
I answered while getting up:
"What? Me? Laughing at you? You must be imagining things... Anyway, I'm heading out."
I started walking away, but his voice followed behind me, shouting:
"You laughed!! I'm sure of it!! Don't back out now! Admit it!!"
I laughed again, waving without turning back, then continued walking toward the inn.
As I walked, his voice gradually faded... until it vanished completely.
I reached the inn's door and paused for a moment, recalling everything that happened between us.
I wasn't the only one who could talk to the status window...
And I wasn't the only one with an "Unknown" Awareness Level.
So what does that mean? Why is it unknown to everyone?
Is it something hidden that can't be measured easily? Or is it something we're not meant to know yet?
The question itself felt too heavy to think about.
I entered the inn, lost in thought…
Sometimes, ignorance can be a temporary comfort.
But deep inside, I knew I wouldn't stay ignorant for long.
As usual, Aunt Melissa welcomed me with her warm smile:
"You're back, hero! You're a bit late today!"
I smiled at her tiredly and said:
"It was a long day."
She handed me a warm bowl of soup and fresh bread. I sat at the table, ate quietly, then got up to play a bit with Liana, who laughed and spun around the room like a whirlwind of joy.
Afterwards, I went upstairs to my room and quietly closed the door.
Fatigue had started to creep into my limbs, but curiosity was stronger. I sat at the edge of the bed, stared ahead for a moment, then said:
"Status window."
The window opened instantly, its usual digital voice responding:
[ Yes, user. ]
I sighed a little, then asked with a slightly annoyed tone:
"Why did you act as if I was the only one who could talk to the status window?"
It answered calmly and confidently:
[ I never pretended that you were the only one who could talk to their status window. It was you who put that idea in your own mind. ]
I fell silent for a moment.
Her words… convinced me.
She never explicitly said I was the only one. She never misled me. I just assumed it on my own. Maybe because of how she first appeared, or maybe because of my loneliness… or my imagination.
I whispered as I closed the window:
"Ah… yes. You're right."
Then I shut it and lay on the bed, my gaze fixed on the wooden ceiling above me.
It had been a long and tiring day.
But I felt that with each passing day, I was taking a step forward… even if it was a small one.
I closed my eyes — and slept.