[External area information will be available once the Farming Project is completed and the weekly target is met.]
Nathan fell silent for a few seconds, then let out a long sigh.
He was still holding his shovel, the tip slightly covered in faintly glowing wet soil.
The night air was getting cooler, but his new cloak kept him perfectly comfortable.
"Well, whatever," he muttered.
He continued walking, following the system-marked path.
The soft light from the mushrooms along the way slowly faded as he returned to the earlier area—where ten Prunus Vitalis trees were already growing, lush and strong, thanks to [Semenflora].
Nathan looked at the place with a strange feeling.
"Do I plant it now?" he asked, half-hoping he could go to sleep first.
The answer was short. Stiff. As if it left no room for negotiation.
Nathan walked toward an open patch near the Prunus Vitalis trees.
He slowly set down his basket, his back slightly aching from the weight.
He loosened his cloak a bit to move more freely, then began digging.
His grip on the shovel was firm.
The first swing felt heavy, but he kept going.
"Amazing, huh..." he muttered as he stabbed the shovel deeper.
"Wearing a cool cloak ... and still digging holes."
The soil around the Prunus Vitalis was denser than before.
Maybe the system knew he was working alone... in the middle of the night.
One hole. Two holes. Three.
Each time he finished digging one, he gently placed a sprout into it, making sure the crystal roots were properly planted, then carefully covered it with soil.
"This isn’t what a Hunter does," he whispered, flapping his cloak so it wouldn’t get in the way.
"I’m basically a gardener with RPG flavor."
The night wind gently blew his hair as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
And even though he grumbled...
Quietly, Nathan smiled.
There was something calming about this work.
As simple as digging and planting.
If I were the MC of a NovelHub, the author would probably give me a cool title like... ’The First Legendary Tower Farmer.’ Hahahaha...
Finally, the tenth hole was neatly filled.
Nathan stood still, staring at his work—
Ten Crystal Banafruit sprouts now planted beside the towering Prunus Vitalis trees.
The night air wrapped everything in silence, as if offering its quiet blessing for his effort.
He took a slow breath, then lifted his shovel.
With a single thought, the shovel slowly vanished.
The basket gifted by the system followed—disappearing without a trace, as if its existence had fulfilled its purpose.
Nathan exhaled, then dropped down, sitting beneath the shade of a Prunus Vitalis tree.
Its trunk was warm. Weird, but comforting.
He stared up at the star-filled sky.
Then, a thought crossed his mind.
"...Should I use [Semenfloora] now?" he whispered.
His brain instantly rejected the idea.
"Hell nah." He shook his head hard, visibly disgusted with himself.
"I’m not jerking off to plants again."
The first time he used that skill.
His hands were trembling. His position was... inhuman.
And he did it all for one reason: to survive.
"Back then, it was life or death..." he murmured.
"But now? No one’s threatening me... except my own damn dignity."
He let out a small laugh— a quiet sound in the middle of the night.
The wind brushed through his hair gently, and the scent of damp earth mixed with something like mint leaves.
Nathan hugged his knees, and said to himself,
"It hasn’t even been a week..."
"...But I’ve made more progress here than in years of working 9-to-5 jobs with minimum wage, cut just because I clocked in late, missed one paper, or lost a spoon in the pantry."
He looked up, eyes following the curve of the Prunus Vitalis above him.
"Yeah, even if I’m being watched by that weird woman named..."
Nathan’s eyes widened.
"Wait—why can I say her name? Tower Manager name is..." He instinctively sat upright.
Somewhere far outside the Tower...
In a brightly lit office cubicle, amidst stacks of reports and a blinking computer screen, a woman sat with her cheek resting on her hand.
Her other hand held a phone — open to a photo.
Ordinary face. Tired eyes. Slight stubble on the chin.
A bland office shirt with coffee stains on the collar.
He didn’t stand out in a crowd — hell, he barely stood out in the break room.
"Why didn’t he come to work?" she muttered.
Her thumb hovered over the screen, then tapped the call icon.
She clicked her tongue and leaned back, tousling her short, black hair with slight frustration.
"I mean, I’m not worried," she mumbled. "I’m just his senior. It’s normal to check in on people."
She stared at the ceiling.
"He’s probably just being lazy again. Or overslept. Or... whatever."
Her lips pursed slightly.
"Maybe I’ll go to his apartment later. Just to... make sure he’s not dead or something. Not that I care."
She scratched her head again.
"...It’s not like I’m... worried or anything."
Her screen dimmed. She tapped it awake — his face lit up again.
Then quickly locked the phone, as if caught red-handed.
Mouth half open. Eyes staring at nothing.
His brain had stalled—like a wheel stuck in mud.
He tried to repeat the thought again.
Tower Manager’s name is...
He blinked. Once. Twice.
His hand was still hovering near his lap, as if the sentence had been physically cut midair.
Nathan sat still, the wind brushing past him. Some thoughts had weight, others had walls. And some... couldn’t even be spoken. Not out loud. Not even in here.
Suddenly, a panel appeared before him.
My Dear, are you ready to hear my bedtime story?