My Idle System

Or was that just a normal reaction?

While having some qualms about everything, Christian finally got out of the car, bringing only the small shovel. He walked a little further in, searching for a well hidden spot. After a few moments, he found a patch of ground soft enough for digging, and without hesitation, he knelt and plunged the small shovel into the earth, the sensation of his action confirming his choice.

Fortunately, he was strong, so it shouldn\'t take too much time, was his first thought. But seeing how it was just a small shovel, not meant for grave digging, he silently prepared himself for the long task ahead.

Some time passed, and breathing a little heavily, Christian paused his work. He looked up at the sky, at the pale glow of the moon casting its light around him, seeming to deepen the shadows rather than lessen them.

After acquiring the Idle System, he always felt like he could achieve anything if he put his mind to it. But standing in this situation, in a place like this, he was strangely reminded of his insignificance against the vastness of the world. As for obtaining it? It now felt more like a distant dream than the vivid fantasy he once had.

Christian also realized he hadn\'t prepared himself well enough, as the task took even more time than he had anticipated. Worse, he needed to rest for a moment, as his body wasn\'t the omnipotent one he had made it out to be.

As a wave of exhaustion washed over him, with sweat trickling down his brow. He took a moment to lean against the shovel, closed his eyes, and as his breathing began to stabilize, he gathered himself, reminding himself of why he was here and who was waiting for him at home.

Still, it was a grueling experience for Christian. His clothes were covered in dust and soil, the color visibly changed as the dirt he was digging left clear marks on him, and with sweat making his clothes stick to his skin, it couldn\'t be worse.

Maybe if he walked through public places looking like this, people might mistake him for someone living primitively in a cave.

Or perhaps not to that extent, but he still dreaded the consequences when he returned home. Would he be able to hide his disheveled appearance from his sister, who could wake up at any moment?

Hopefully, it was one of those rare days when she overslept.

While entertaining some useless thoughts to lighten his mood, Christian took a deep breath, wiped his brow, and then continued, taking some more time, as he finally finished.

Now, climbing out of the hole, he clapped his hands to shake off the dust and set the small shovel, something he felt should be disposed of after this, off to the side.

Then, he finally returned to his car and retrieved the corpse.

Standing near the hole he had put so much effort into digging, Christian didn\'t simply place the body as it was. Instead, he removed the sheets and the plastic wrap around it, leaving only the assassin in his original clothes.

He took a moment, staring at the corpse lying still in front of him, its pale skin and eyes closed forever. Then, finally, he extended his arms to place it in the freshly dug grave, feeling the signs of rigidity in the body, as if it were a remnant of its final struggle.

After laying the corpse down, he shook himself slightly, feeling the urge to curse from the exhaustion, as just half of the journey was over, and he still had to bury it.

Christian also made sure everything he brought was placed in a trash bag, then closed it and put it in the car. Before finally returning to his work.

Again, time passed.

And Christian could now confidently say, yes, if someone asked, that he was from a primitive tribe, as with all the sweat, soil, and other elements mixed together, he feared that even his sister, if she were to see him now, wouldn\'t recognize him.

Luckily, he had finished burying the body. The earth had returned to its previous state, and while it didn\'t blend seamlessly with the surrounding landscape, some signs of disturbance still visible here and there, it was still pretty good, and Christian was satisfied with his work.

Finally, he turned away, feeling exhausted, as if he might collapse at any moment. Dragging his body along with the shovel, he made his way to the car.

Of course, before that, he didn\'t just check once that everything was done; he made sure to double-check.

Now, sitting at driver seat of the car, as he tossed the shovel to the side, he finally pressed his foot on the gas pedal, heading back.

He felt a deep longing for his house, for his sister, like never before.

With the help of Iris and the prepared route, Christian didn\'t take long to arrive home and park the car.

Dragging his body out of the car, he grabbed the black trash bag, knowing he couldn\'t leave it inside, and walked to the door of the house.

What he didn\'t know was that not too far away, someone had been watching him all along, since he came out of his car, someone who had been keeping an eye on his house since he left. Now, as she observed his return, tears were silently streaming down her face.

Christian, upon arriving at the front door of his house, steadied himself and slowly opened it, hoping that his sister hadn\'t woken up yet. He wanted to go straight to his locked room and take a long, much-needed shower again.

But it seemed his hopes were not meant to be fulfilled, as just as he heaved a sigh of relief and began walking slowly toward the stairs.

crash

The sudden sound of something breaking echoed through the house.

Turning his head back, he saw his sister, her face frozen in shock upon seeing him. In her surprise, she had dropped the cup of coffee she was holding, and it shattered on the floor.

And when she saw the state of him, her shock quickly morphed into concern, worry, and panic. So, with a voice filled with anxiety, she called out to him.

"Chris, whe-"

She started by saying his name and seemed about to say more, while walking toward him. But Christian, knowing he had messed up, quickly set the trash bag down and placed his hands in his pockets.

Unknowingly, he let her focus more on that, as she lowered her gaze and looked at the trash bag he had placed down.

Still, it was better than her noticing his hands - the palms, which were torn from digging for hours, and the wound on the injured one, which now seemed even worse than when he\'d first received it from the assassin.

Just, his appearance, caked in dust and dirt, was one thing, but the sight of his injured hand, with blooded bandages, was another, after all.

Perhaps it was his actions that triggered the shift, but his sister, seeing everything, from his behavior to his disheveled appearance and the trash bag at the side, seemed to have a change in her demeanor. Her tone became calm, neutral, almost as if she wasn\'t fazed by the situation at all. Then, she asked again, this time more firmly.

"Where were you?"

For Christian, it was an interrogative tone, one he had never heard from his sister before, making him a bit surprised.

"It\'s just that I couldn\'t sleep."

\'Because of the assassin.\'

"So, I thought why not go to some place, as a change of pace?"

\'Like at some mountain to bury the corpse.\'

"Then, when I arrived there, I thought why not play with dirt, try to be a little childish?"

\'Maybe because it\'s something that I have done for the first time, but it really took more time and effort than I had thought - digging holes and burying corpses.\'

Like, while he knew that he may get a little dirty from dust and all, but never to this extent.

"Who would have thought that I would get this dirty?"

Christian, saying the excuse he had thought of in the worst-case situation with all the fluency he had, felt like praising himself.

But Annabelle, hearing him, asked again with a cold tone this time.

"Is that so?"

"You wanted to play in dirt suddenly in the middle of the night?"

"And because of your enthusiasm, having done something like that for the first time in your life, you ended up with scratches here and there?"

"Even on your face?!"