My SSS-Rank Grim Reaper System

Chapter 130: GROUP SOCIALIZING (2)

[Two days later — Veltharr — 10:00 AM]

The blacksmith of Veltharr was a man with large hands who worked in a forge that smelled of hot iron and mountain wood.

Kira had arrived with the bow.

Not broken — with the accumulated wear of months of intensive use.

The reinforcement at the upper tip had micro‑fractures that only [Predator’s Sense] at maximum had detected.

The blacksmith watched her work the bow with Sense active — her amber eyes glowing while her fingers followed the micro‑fractures that he himself could not see.

"Can you feel the metal?" he asked.

"Not exactly." Kira gave him back the bow. "I feel the pattern of how it moves. The fractures change the pattern."

"Have you always had that ability?"

"Since I was born."

The blacksmith processed that.

"This is the first time someone has brought me a bow with problems I hadn’t detected yet."

"They would have appeared in three weeks of intensive use."

"How do you know how long is left?"

"The expansion pattern."

The blacksmith looked at her for a second.

Then he took the bow with the specific care of someone who has understood exactly what he has in his hands.

"Two hours," he said. "And when you come back, you won’t notice the difference from a new one."

Kira nodded.

"I’ll be in the market."

---

[Veltharr Market — same day]

The owner of The Broken Rock had insisted on preparing the team’s breakfast even though it was already noon.

"You look like you need it," she had said when they tried to say no. It wasn’t a question.

The team had eaten double portions in grateful silence.

Now in the market — the whole team, plus the boy.

Alex had taken him to a clothing shop the day before with the same logic he had used with Kira — the boy had the Veil’s clothes, dark and worn, and needed something that wasn’t that.

The boy had taken twenty minutes looking at the options with the seriousness of someone who didn’t know how to choose.

He had chosen blue clothes — a shirt with a collar and buttons down to the start of the chest, plus a sweatshirt.

Only blue — the color he had pointed to when Alex asked what he liked, with the expression of someone discovering that he has preferences.

Now he walked with the team through the market in his new clothes, his eyes already completely brown, looking at Veltharr with attention because everything is new to him.

Alex looked at his purse.

The Crowns were disappearing at a rate he could physically feel.

"So this is what it feels like," he said quietly.

"What?" asked Emily beside him.

"Having people to buy things for."

Emily smiled.

---

The girls had arrived at the market in outfits different from their usual travel clothes.

Raven in a dark shirt with a clean cut that Alex had never seen on her and that worked exactly like everything Raven wore — unpretentious, completely effective.

Emily in a light blue dress that somehow made her figure seem more detailed.

Kira in the dark green blouse from Roa’s shop — the first garment, the practical one — and her hair in a side braid.

Her ears completely visible and unapologetic.

Maya in something that Alex could only describe as "what Maya wears when she isn’t calculating something" — softer than her usual clothes, with Akari on her shoulders equally presentable.

The boy had watched them arrive with the attention of someone who is learning what things deserve attention.

Then he had looked at Alex.

Alex had looked at his purse of Crowns.

"Yes," he had said quietly. "I know."

---

[North Market — Skill game stall — 11:30 AM]

The stall had targets of different sizes and distances.

Pay per turn, prize for accuracy.

Kira looked at it for half a second.

"I don’t count," she said before anyone could suggest it.

"Why not?" asked the boy.

"Because [Predator’s Sense] with static targets isn’t a game, it’s a demonstration." Kira pointed at the stall. "You all play. I’ll watch."

The stall owner looked at Kira — the ears, the amber eyes — and clearly reached the same conclusion as the blacksmith that morning.

"Fair terms," he said.

---

Alex went first.

Three out of five targets. Nothing impressive — his skills were close combat and Blood Weapon, not fairground marksmanship.

Emily went second.

Four out of five.

The naturalness of someone with a healer’s hands that have built‑in precision.

"Four out of five at a country fair," said Raven. "Impressive."

"It was luck."

"Four in a row isn’t luck."

Maya went third.

Five out of five. No pause between shots. With the same expression she used to read maps.

"That wasn’t fair," said Alex.

"There’s no rule against competence."

"The spirit of the game is—"

"The spirit of the game is winning."

The owner gave her the grand prize — a small stuffed fox with the expression of someone who respects a worthy opponent.

Maya looked at it.

Then she looked at Akari.

Akari looked at the stuffed fabric nine‑tailed fox, who made a gesture to Maya that said *it’s your moment*.

Maya walked toward Alex and held out the stuffed fox, turning her head to the side embarrassed, with a blush on her face.

That embarrassed Alex too, and with a smile while scratching his cheek, he took the plushie.

"Thank you for the gift, Maya. I’ll keep it safe so nothing happens to it."

Raven smiled and wanted to take the chance to tease Maya.

"You know? For being 27, you act like a schoolgirl."

Maya couldn’t say anything since she knew Raven was right, so she decided to ignore her.

Raven went fourth.

Four out of five as well, but with her eyes closed on the last shot.

But at the last moment, Akari launched a fireball that disintegrated it instantly.

"What? I was sure I had aimed at it!" Raven could see how Akari made a gesture that made it look like the fox was mocking her.

The owner looked at her.

"Where are you folks from?"

"Far away," said Raven.

The boy went last.

He held the bow with both hands. He looked at the farthest target.

He shot.

He missed completely.

The next target too.

The third grazed the edge.

The fourth was the smallest — he looked at it for three full seconds with the concentration of someone who has spent seven years focusing everything on one goal.

He hit it.

The owner raised his hands.

The boy looked at the target he had hit.

"Is that okay?" asked Emily.

"I didn’t miss all of them," said the boy.

"No, you didn’t miss all of them."

The boy nodded with the satisfaction of someone who is learning to calibrate his own expectations.

Kira from behind: "Your grip was wrong on the first two. On the fourth you corrected it."

"You saw that?"

"I see everything."

The boy looked at her.

"Can you teach me?"

Her ears moved slightly upward.

"If you want to learn."