NOVEL NEXT Chapter 38: Chapter 38: It's Over?
After finally finishing off two large servings of pork chop rice and stuffing the leftovers into his backpack right in front of the three Inquisitors, Steven wiped his mouth, ready to bid farewell to this relatively friendly group.
To be fair, managing to whip up some decent pork chop rice in the middle of this wilderness was quite the gesture. Steven felt it would be rude to maintain a cold demeanor in return.
However, before he could open his mouth to speak, he noticed the three pairs of eyes locked onto his hands.
"Is there a problem?"
There was a big problem!
Irene looked at him in shock. If his earlier actions had already marked him as a physical monster, then what was this?
Two massive bowls of pork chop rice—big as basins—had just vanished into thin air. How was he doing this?
Looking at her teacher and superior's reactions, it was obvious they couldn't figure it out either.
"How did you... um...?"
Irene stammered, gesturing awkwardly to mimic his movement of stowing something away behind him.
This clearly wasn't within the scope of Originium Arts!
"Oh, it's just sleight of hand. You know, a little magic trick. I hid them in my pants," Steven replied with a grin after pausing briefly.
Realizing that the world had Originium Arts—a somewhat magical system—Steven had forgotten how odd his backpack might seem here. This world's technology was quirky enough, but even its magic was skewed. Was developing spatial storage arts really so difficult?
To sell his explanation, Steven pulled the two servings of pork chop rice out of his "back pocket" again, deliberately moving in slow motion for her to see. Then he placed them back in the same manner.
Irene was even more dumbfounded now. Who was he kidding? She wasn't blind—those dishes had clearly disappeared into thin air!
"You…"
"Listen," Steven interrupted, "I'm about to leave, so let me give you some advice. There are things worth investigating thoroughly, and there are things better left untouched."
"As an Inquisitor, you'll face many judgments to make. Among them is recognizing what truly matters. I trust you understand that?"
He tousled Irene's hair as if he were a senior offering guidance.
[World Acknowledgement Points +1]
He had been looking for an excuse to ruffle her feathers—or rather, her hair.
"You!"
"Irene, he's right," Darío, the High Inquisitor, interjected before Irene could retort. "As a qualified Inquisitor, you must assess the situation in front of you, rather than blindly pursue the truth at the expense of everything else."
Darío's intervention silenced her, though her expression remained indignant.
"You see? That's why he outranks you—learn from him," Steven teased, clearly enjoying Irene's frustration. Compared to those cunning old foxes, he found teasing her much more fun.
"Everyone has their secrets. If Mr. Steven prefers not to share, we won't pry. Regardless, we are deeply grateful for your assistance—whether it was eliminating the remnants of the Church of the Deep in this village or helping the Penal Battalion repel the Seaborn. Your contributions deserve the Inquisition' gratitude."
The aged saint, Carmen, stepped forward to steer the conversation, offering Steven a sincere nod of thanks.
"Don't mention it; I'm flattered. Well then, I'll be on my way. But next time, if you try to drag me to the Inquisition' court, it won't be so easy," Steven said with a chuckle, his impression of Carmen genuinely positive.
At least he wasn't like that green-haired, enigmatic "Kal'tsit"—talking in riddles all the time. If it weren't for his plans to tag along with Rhodes Island for more World Acknowledgement Points and to reunite Gladiia with her kin, settling down in Iberia didn't sound half bad.
"No worries. I trust you are not someone who would casually trample Iberia's laws. As long as you uphold this principle, the Inquisition will maintain our current attitude toward you," Carmen replied with a nod before shifting his gaze skyward.
In the distance, a peculiar flying craft, emblazoned with a chess-like rook symbol, descended slowly.
So, that lady had taken an interest in this mysterious young man after all. Carmen lamented that their contact had come too late; otherwise, convincing him to stay in Iberia might have been a worthwhile endeavor.
"Heh, pulling out all the stops with a private pickup, huh?" Steven remarked, noticing the aircraft above. Unlike Irene's look of wide-eyed wonder, he remained unfazed.
It was just an aircraft—nothing he couldn't build himself.
However, just as he was about to officially bid farewell, his system chat unexpectedly displayed a long-missed red notification.
[Under Tides (Prologue)] Hidden Achievement Completed √]
[Base World Acknowledgement Points: 100,000. Plot Participation: 50% (Bonus +50%). Worldline Impact: 0.01% (Bonus +100%).]
[Total: 250,000 World Acknowledgement Points. Settle Now?]
So, this marked the completion of a hidden achievement? As he suspected, World Acknowledgement Points weren't limited to the main quest list. If he could alter certain key plot outcomes, what about the subsequent stories?
The acknowledgment system seemed to encourage him to integrate into the world's events, rewarding points even for rewriting certain scenarios. This "hidden" plotline served as confirmation.
It was like branching routes in a visual novel—meeting specific conditions and altering outcomes could unlock entirely new storylines.
"Not bad. Way more flexible than the rigid systems I've seen in other worlds," Steven mused, a smile tugging at his lips as he read the system prompt.
"Only this much for all that work? That's pocket change. You've already outlined how to get more bonus points, so it'd be out of character for me not to exploit it."
His smirk turned mischievous as Steven looked back at Carmen.
"Would it trouble you if I stayed a little longer? I just thought of a win-win deal we could strike."
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