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Chapter 106

  Ch 106

  Matt found himself quietly contemplating his life after his conversation with Tyler. He realized that he had never been a good son, brother, or truly a friend to anyone. Sure, when someone asked for help, he would usually show up and be there, but he never really made an effort to find time to do things with them. Even as a child, he was more concerned with his own interests rather than what others wanted. Yet, as this awareness washed over him, he couldn't help but acknowledge all the connections he had failed to make throughout his life. More significant than that was the realization that he had always known his life would end with him dying alone, in the middle of nowhere. It would only be noticed by people questioning why they hadn't seen him when he would have normally checked in.

  Matt hated to admit it, but when he looked back at his life up to that point, all he saw was a journey in search of his own peace, a quest he knew many would both praise and criticize him for as they continued with their own lives, truly living. They faced the everyday challenges of utility bills, car loans, dating, and even the simple act of shopping for groceries. Although Matt found happiness in his life and experienced a profound satisfaction from living by the labor of his own hands, he couldn't help but wonder about the permanence of his achievements. Nothing he built or owned seemed likely to endure a century after he was gone. Perhaps his rustic cabin would still be recognizable, and a few of his well-worn tools might not be completely decayed, but neither would likely be usable anymore.

  "You need to stop dwelling on things you can't change," Greg remarked, taking a seat beside Matt. "I'm not going to pretend I know exactly what's on your mind, but since you just chatted with your nephew, it's clear that family is part of it."

  "Do you think my life was wasted back on Earth?" Matt asked, his voice tinged with doubt.

  "I don't think it was a waste. It gave you the confidence to survive when the rest of us were running around scared. That said, if none of this had happened, then yeah, even if you were enjoying it, the lack of any meaningful connections makes it a waste. Not that any of us are much better; my connections were thin at best. But at least I had a few online friends I could talk anime and games with."

  "What would you have considered success back on Earth?" Matt inquired, seeking insight.

  "Do you really want to know that? It might be rather pathetic, to be honest," Greg hesitated.

  "I need perspective," Matt insisted.

  "Finding a woman who could tolerate me and shared some of my interests, marrying her, and not ending up on the streets from being unable to pay my bills. Maybe a few pets, but only if she was the one taking care of them, as I don't trust myself to even manage that much."

  "No kids?" Matt probed further.

  "Didn't I just say I don't trust myself to take care of pets? Why would I be any better with kids?" Greg replied with a wry smile.

  "Point taken. Still, doesn't it feel empty to think about how no one will care once you're gone?" Matt pondered aloud.

  "Why would I care about others caring about me? I mean, beyond the obvious, like avoiding having the cops called on me. If my few online friends mention me in a few comments and my body isn't just left to rot, that's more than enough for me. At least it used to be. Now I will have my harem of beautiful and exotic women or die trying, as now I see a path for my dreams," Greg concluded with a hint of ambition in his voice.

  "Is that why you're willing to follow me?" Matt asked, with a raised eyebrow.

  Greg leaned back seemingly lost in thought, and paused for a long moment before replying to Matt. Finally, he squared his shoulders, met Matt’s gaze, and spoke with surprising assurance.

  “You push others to aim higher—the way you took on those beasts when we first met, and how the rescued villagers talk about you, never even asking for thanks. Sure, you’re brash and thick-headed at times, but at your core you do whatever’s necessary, no matter the cost. So yeah, I think it’s time you allowed yourself to form connections, maybe even fall in love—just so long as it doesn’t stop you from charging headlong into danger the way you do now. Otherwise, all that chasing—whatever it is you’re really searching for—will only get you and anyone you care about killed.”

  “How do I do that?” Matt muttered, eyes fixed on his boots.

  Greg only smiled and delivered a single sentence. “Embrace the fight. Become a battle junkie.”

  “A what?” Matt’s brow furrowed.

  “A battle junkie,” Greg explained. “Someone who lives for the rush of risking their life in combat. Just don’t push it so far that you hunt unwinnable battles purely for the thrill.”

  “I think you’re twisted,” Matt said, glancing at Greg’s resolute face.

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  “Maybe,” Greg admitted, brushing ash from his sleeve. “But considering we’ll probably be fighting monsters for the rest of our lives, it seems like a useful mindset.”

  “Perhaps,” Matt conceded. “But what kind of person craves danger like that?”

  “The kind who wants to feel alive and can only do it by staring death in the face,” Greg said. “I’m not saying it’s right, but most of the heroes in the stories I love lived that way. With your regeneration, you’ll excel once your hit points climb beyond what ordinary weapons can ever truly harm.”

  “I don’t think it’ll work like that,” Matt replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If anything, I worry my regeneration will hide just how badly I’m hurt—shrugging off blows that would cripple a normal person.”

  Greg leaned forward as smile on his lips. “Why worry? It just means that when everyone else is down for the count, you’re still standing. There’s an old tabletop-RPG saying: ‘Only your last hit point matters.’ Just make sure you never lose it—and you’ll be fine.”

  Matt wanted to challenge Greg’s reasoning, but he realized he couldn’t find any flaws in it. As a result, their conversation simply reached a quiet conclusion, leaving Matt lost in thought as he contemplated his own journey before drifting off to sleep that night. Despite his efforts to find clarity, he continued to search for answers as they resumed their daily routine of battling monsters and seeking an escape the following day. During this time, they noted an important detail: features such as member requests and exchanging items through the merit system were unavailable during battles.

  Simultaneously, it became evident that merit points weren’t an endless resource that a guild could distribute freely. Instead, whenever someone exchanged something for merit points from the organization, they were deducted from Matt’s total of 500 points. Fortunately, the other eight members promptly transferred all of their points to Matt by utilizing the member request function to trade for items they knew only he possessed. This action resulted in a total of merely 4,500 merit points within the system, significantly restricting what could be accomplished. Emily began to make adjustments with this newfound understanding, contemplating strategies to optimize their limited resources efficiently.

  By the time the day concluded, Matt was still pondering his role and what the future held for him as they settled in for the night. These thoughts persisted into the next day as they unraveled and adjusted more nuances of the organization's controls. Although updating the organization's notice for a reputation point was an option on the table, Emily was firmly against utilizing it until they were confident they had most, if not all, of the controls figured out. In simple terms, she believed that squandering reputation points, even just one, was not a prudent decision.

  When they settled down for the night, Matt found himself anxiously waiting for the cooldown on the leader’s call to end. He had been closely monitoring Tyler’s name to ensure he wasn’t among the half dozen guild members who had perished since the formation of Scattered Stars. As he pondered what he would say to Peter, Matt couldn't help but dwell on the fact that they both had lost their parents. At least, that seemed to be the case, since their mother hadn’t accepted an invitation to join Scattered Stars. Unless, of course, there was another reason she wouldn’t accept it, a worry that lingered in Matt’s mind.

  Finally, the cooldown ended, and Matt initiated the call to his brother, Peter.

  "What is this?" Peter answered, sounding puzzled.

  "It's your recluse of a brother calling to tell you that Tyler is alive," Matt replied.

  "Matt, what the hell did you do that let you set whatever Scattered Stars is? And is Tyler with you?"

  "No, he's facing his own set of challenges, just like the rest of us. We all found ourselves dealing with different threats right from the start. He seems to be with a group seeking adventure, while I ended up with recluses and loners like myself. How about you?"

  "Married people with kids," Peter stated. "We just spend all day taking care of children while dealing with weak monsters as we slowly level up."

  "What?" Matt asked, incredulous.

  "Yeah, seeing you look like you've had to deal with some tough fights, judging by the state of the armor you're wearing, was unexpected. It makes me wonder why the system is favoring parents and children so much."

  "It's not favoring anyone; it's crippling all of you by keeping you from reaching your potential. It makes me wonder what it did with the elderly."

  "What do you mean we're being crippled? What have things been like for you?"

  "A constant struggle to survive. That's all I've known. I'm at level 15. What about you?"

  "Level 5. How many things did you kill to reach that point?"

  "I don't keep count, but you need to find a way to at least reach level 9 as fast as possible…"

  Matt once again shifted into lecture mode, sharing all the knowledge he had. However, Peter appeared uninterested and unenthusiastic about following any of Matt's suggestions. Matt could sense the familiar dynamic between them, where neither would heed the other's advice. Ultimately, Matt concluded that using the card Tyler had given him was his only viable option, even though he was reluctant to do so.

  "Tyler told me to let you know that he's already reached level 7, and if you can't at least keep up with him, he won't listen to your warnings about my lifestyle."

  "And we both know you gave him a piece of your mind for that," retorted Peter.

  "You're right," admitted Matt. "But seeing how you're behaving now, I feel like I was wrong too, as you've simply shifted to taking care of kids rather than becoming a true protector for them. I always thought you were the protective one among us."

  "Since when have you been willing to protect anything but what belongs to you?"

  "I'm not sure, but that's the role I've found myself in, and yet, I know there's only so much that one man can protect."

  "You can be a real bastard, you know that. You never cared about what others thought once you believed you were right. So, tell me, is this another one of your 'I'm right because I'm right' moments?"

  "No, this is something that all of me agrees on. Even you should see that if you're under level 10 while others are in their 30s, it's going to put you at their mercy. I can't always be there to keep you out of trouble."

  "Nor do I want you to. I'll speak with Stacy and decide what we are going to do. Thanks for telling me Tyler is alive. Any word on Mom?"

  "Only that she didn't accept my invitation to join Scattered Stars."

  "I see," replied Peter, disappointment evident in his voice. "She wasn't very happy when you missed Dad's funeral; maybe she's holding it against you."

  "Maybe, but our time is nearly up, so let's not delve into that."

  "Right, stay strong, and for God's sake, rise above yourself and be the best you can be."

  Before Matt could respond, the call ended, leaving him to smile at Peter's words as he contemplated his next move.

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