CHAPTER 66: CHAPTER 66

Clayton and Monkey Brother immediately turned their heads when they heard the voice.

There stood Grass, eyes filled with hope as he looked at Monkey Brother. Realizing all attention was now on him, Grass blushed in embarrassment.

"Ahem... I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I happened to overhear your conversation," he said awkwardly.

Monkey Brother waved it off casually, signaling it wasn’t a big deal.

Clayton, however, was curious about Grass’s sudden offer.

"You mean, Brother Grass, you want to take the job from Monkey Brother’s friend?"

"Yes!" Grass replied confidently, without the slightest hesitation.

Clayton frowned. "But what about your own farm? Won’t it be neglected if you go work elsewhere?"

"Oh, that’s fine. You can take care of my land too. We’ll split the harvest—30% for me, 70% for you. I want to experience working with academy people. Besides, I’ve learned a lot from you, and I want to apply that knowledge in the real world."

Clayton hesitated but didn’t object. Honestly, the deal worked in his favor too.

Monkey Brother finally spoke up.

"You sure you want to join and work with my friend?"

"Yes!" Grass answered again, this time with even greater conviction.

Monkey Brother nodded in approval. For him, it didn’t matter if his worker was a man, a dog, or a chicken—so long as the deal went through, he’d profit either way.

They went on to discuss the job’s details, and shortly after, Monkey Brother took his leave.

. . .

A few days later, Grass officially began working at the farm arranged by Monkey Brother. From that point on, he was rarely seen on his own land. Every time he returned, he looked completely exhausted.

Seeing his condition, Clayton couldn’t help but ask if he was alright.

Grass always insisted he was fine, though his pale face told another story.

Clayton didn’t press him. He simply advised him to rest more and not push himself too hard.

As for Clayton, he continued farming calmly and diligently, just like always.

Thanks to his consistent hard work, all three of his skills leveled up that day. Though excited, Clayton decided to hold off on checking his skill panel until he finished his fieldwork.

Name:

Clayton Fisherman

Age: 16

Rank: Two-Star Apprentice Mage / Two-Star Trainee Knight

Skills:

Farming (Lv 1) (3/200):(Observation), (Farmer’s Intuition), (Harvest Boost), (Mutation)

Water Gun (Lv 1) (1/200):(Density), (Viscosity), (Purity), (Tracking)

Holy Skeleton (Lv 1) (0/200):(Rune), (Sharing), (Array), (Space)

Clayton was thrilled to see the new entries. He tested them one by one.

After a while, he couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. He hadn’t expected the new abilities to be this useful.

If his skills had previously been equal to low-tier one-star techniques, they now solidly reached mid-tier.

From Farming:

Harvest Boost: As the name implies, this increases the yield of each harvest. For a regular farmer, this would be game-changing.

Mutation: Causes crops grown by Clayton to mutate randomly. The result can be beneficial, harmless, or even dangerous.

From Water Gun:

Purity: Clayton’s water magic now generates purified water—capable of cleansing the body and gradually reducing the effects of mysterious illnesses, poisons, and even erisipelas.

Tracking: Allows Clayton to tag a target with an anchor point, ensuring that his water spells will strike accurately, even if his aim is off.

From Holy Skeleton:

Array: Grants a natural talent for creating magical formations—likely linked to the patterns Clayton instinctively uses when summoning his mini skeletons.

Space: Adds two hectares of private land within Clayton’s storage space. Unfortunately, the land is barren and devoid of magic. To use it, he’ll need to implant a magic vein or install a mana-gathering formation.

...

Still riding the high of discovery, Clayton suddenly noticed something odd about his mini skeletons.

He hadn’t yet checked to see how they’d changed since the skill leveled up.

When he looked over, he found them standing perfectly still, all facing the same direction with... hopeful expressions?

Clayton raised an eyebrow. He gave them a command to move, and they immediately began walking—toward his room.

Curious, Clayton followed.

Once inside, the skeletons stopped and stared intently at one spot: his bed.

Clayton examined it thoroughly but found nothing unusual. Even after moving the bed aside, the skeletons’ focus didn’t shift—suggesting their attention wasn’t on the furniture itself.

Now even more confused, Clayton tried repositioning the skeletons. Yet no matter where he placed them, their gaze remained fixed in the same direction—locked and unwavering.

"Is there actually something there?" he wondered.

He considered the possibilities.

"If it’s not on the surface... could it be underground? Or invisible?"

He decided to dig.

Driven by curiosity and a rush of excitement, Clayton moved quickly. Not long after—

Clang!

A moment later, the sharp sound of metal clashing rang out.

Clayton felt a numb jolt in his hands—he had struck something hard and solid beneath the soil. Yet, ignoring the sting in his palms, he became even more eager to dig further.

It took quite a while before he finally managed to unearth the object buried alongside the miniature skeletons.

What he found was a box, roughly 0.3 cubic meters in size, made entirely of solid, heavy iron.

Despite being buried underground, the box showed only minimal rust or damage. It appeared to have been remarkably well-maintained, evidenced by the layer of oil that coated every inch of its surface.

The moment he laid eyes on it, Clayton’s curiosity flared. He had no idea who had buried the object here—but one thing was certain: it was valuable enough to be hidden with great care.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Clayton hastily raised his hammer and struck the iron padlock that sealed the box.

Clang!

Clang!

Crack!

After several strikes, the lock finally snapped.

His eyes lit up with anticipation. Without wasting a moment, he grabbed the box and flung it open.

The instant he did, a blinding silver light burst forth, searing his vision. Caught completely off guard, Clayton instinctively shielded his eyes with one hand.

But in his panic, he lost grip of the box—dropping it to the ground.

Bang!

Crack!

The box hit hard, followed by the unmistakable sound of something shattering. Judging by the sharp, brittle noise, it was clear that something fragile inside had been destroyed.

Clayton froze in horror. His heart sank.

"Damn it...!" he thought, breath catching in his throat. "I must’ve made a terrible mistake!"

A surge of regret swelled in his chest, pressing down like a weight, until even breathing became difficult.