Chapter 17: Can It

Mio

[ENGINE: REWARD AVAILABLE]

Claim at any time.

Nana needed something else to hold onto. Something that wasn’t leverage and dead parties and a sister who might not be herself anymore.

“Hey.” Mio sat back down. “Want to see something?”

Nana perked up. “Is it another tiny knight?”

“No. It’s—just come here.”

Nana abandoned her eggs and padded over. Can watched from the counter, visor tracking.

[Claim]

A chest materialized on the kitchen table. Small, golden edges flickering. Real enough to touch.

Nana’s eyes went wide. “Is that a loot box?”

“Engine reward. First clear bonus.” Mio reached for it. “Let’s see what we got.”

The chest opened.

Three options floated up in her vision. Projections only she could see, the Engine’s way of showing choices before you committed. Nana just saw Mio staring at empty air above an open box.

[OPTION 1: Widow’s Embrace]

Grade: C

Type: Longsword

Requirement: STR 25

Single-edged blade. Attacks apply Sorrow (reduces target healing by 30% for 5 seconds).

“First one’s a sword,” Mio said. “Black blade. Needs twenty-five strength.”

STR: 11

“That one sounds cool,” Nana said.

“Can’t use it. I’ve only got eleven.”

“Eleven’s not great.” Nana leaned over, trying to see something that wasn’t there. “What about your other stats?”

Mio pulled up the sheet.

[Status]

Level: 10

VIT: 67

STR: 11

AGI: 12

INT: 12

SPR: 16

“Twelve agility. Sixty-seven vitality. Twelve intelligence—”

“Wait.” Nana held up a hand. “INT is intelligence?”

“Yeah, pay attention.”

“And yours is twelve?”

“…Yeah.”

Nana’s face split into a grin.

“So the system thinks you’re dumb.”

“That’s not how it—”

“Twelve, Mio. Out of what, a hundred?”

“It started at two, okay? Twelve is improvement!”

“Improvement from two.” Nana was delighted now. “You started at two intelligence.”

“Can we move on?”

“I’m just saying. The System has opinions.”

Mio waved to the next option before Nana could keep going.

[OPTION 2: Bulwark of the Fallen]

Grade: C

Type: Heavy Chestplate

Requirement: STR 30, VIT 25

Full plate armor. Grants Unyielding (cannot be knocked back while HP > 50%).

“Second one’s armor. Full plate. Skulls on it. Needs thirty strength.”

“Skulls?”

“Actual skulls.”

Nana’s face lit up. “That’s—”

“No.”

“I wasn’t going to say—”

“No.”

Nana pressed her lips together. Clearly biting back something.

Mio waved to the last option.

[OPTION 3: Seedkeeper’s Satchel]

Grade: C

Type: Accessory

Requirement: None Contains assorted flower seeds. Hardy. Low maintenance.

“Last one’s a pouch. With seeds.”

“Seeds? Like… flower seeds?”

Mio read the description again. Hardy. Low maintenance. The Engine matching her class, maybe. Or something else.

“Yeah.”

“That one.” Nana grabbed Mio’s arm. “Pick that one.”

“It’s just seeds—”

“That one.” Nana was bouncing now. Actually bouncing. “Mio. Pick it. Pick it pick it pick it—”

“Okay! Okay.”

[CONFIRM: Seedkeeper’s Satchel?]

[Yes / No]

[Yes]

The other options dissolved in her vision. The pouch dropped into Mio’s palm. Physical now, real, the leather warm against her skin.

[RECEIVED: Seedkeeper’s Satchel]

Contents: Moonpetal Seeds ×12

Grows into luminous white flowers. Traditionally used in memorial arrangements and lunar festivals. Blooms year-round.

Nana was already tugging the satchel from her hands.

“The balcony. Come on.”

“Nana—”

“You killed my succulent. You owe me.”

Can hopped off the counter and followed.

The succulent graveyard was worse than Mio remembered.

Three pots. All dead. Dirt scattered across the balcony tiles from when she’d knocked one over stumbling home. The December wind cut through her still-damp hair.

Nana knelt by the largest pot. The one that used to hold something green and spiky. Now it held dust and a single withered stalk.

“This one,” Nana said.

Mio crouched beside her. Opened the satchel.

The seeds inside were small. They looked like apple seeds, almost, except for the faint shimmer when the light caught them.

“Can I eat one? It looks good.”

“Wanna die?”

Nana held out her hand. Mio poured a few into her palm.

“How many?”

“I don’t know. A few?”

Can lunged for the seeds.

“Hey!” Nana yanked her hand back. The knight overbalanced, tumbled into the pot, and came up swinging at the withered stalk like it had personally offended him.

“Your dog is trying to eat them!”

“He’s not a… dog?” Mio grabbed Can by the leg. He dangled from her grip, tiny gauntlets swiping at the air, trying to grab onto anything.

“The landlord’s gonna kick us out if she sees him.” Nana clutched the seeds to her chest. “No pets, remember? He’s technically a dog.”

Mio’s stomach tightened. The landlord. Questions. Attention. The kind of attention that led to phone calls, to authorities, to—

She set Can on the balcony railing. Held up a finger.

“Stay.”

Can’s visor tracked the seeds in Nana’s hand. Then Mio’s finger. Then the seeds again.

He sat, sulking again.

Nana pressed three seeds into the dead soil. Patted the dirt over them. Looked at the pot like she expected something to happen immediately.

Nothing happened.

“They probably need water,” Mio said.

“They’re magic seeds. They should magic themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Nana hmphed. But she went inside for the watering can anyway.

Mio stayed on the balcony. Looking at the pot. At the soil.

Moonpetals. Luminous white flowers. Memorial arrangements and lunar festivals.

She wondered what they’d look like when they bloomed.

Her phone buzzed.

REMINDER:

Training begins noon. Sublevel Three.

She checked the time.

11:15.

“Nana.”

Her sister came back with the watering can. Oversized. Shaped like an elephant. A gift from their mother, years ago.

“I have to go to the Bureau.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Training.” Mio stood. Brushed dirt off her knees. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

Nana didn’t look up. Just watered the pot, careful and thorough.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Can was still on the counter when she went back inside.

Nana kept watering. The elephant’s trunk dribbled water into dead soil, into the place where something was trying to grow.

“If they don’t bloom,” Nana said, “you owe me another plant.”

“They’ll bloom.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” Mio admitted. “But give them a chance.”

She grabbed her jacket.

At the door, she looked back.

Nana was still on the balcony, watering. The elephant can in her hands, the dead pots at her feet, the seeds invisible beneath the soil.

Memorial flowers. Growing in a graveyard.

The hunger stirred. Mio let it.

She walked out into the cold.

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