It wasnât like I didnât see the quest coming.
From the moment Kyle handed me the file and gave a brief overview of the situation, I knew there was a strong chance it would show up.
This was why I wasnât all too shocked by the appearance of the quest window.
âThe quest is Third Order? Thatâs...â
It wasnât like I hadnât done Third Order quests before, but they always ended up being extremely troublesome. I also knew that quests usually didnât âendâ once they were over. In most cases, the quest would lead up to another quest or tie up with a previous quest.
Was it the same in this case...?
âI hope thatâs not the case.â
But I could only hope. Either way, it wasnât like I was alone. Kyle was present, and the other team members were going to arrive soon.
This mission...
It was doable.
...And I also needed to SP.
Thatâs why I accepted.
Ding!
[Mission Accepted]
Scrrâ
The panel vanished, and the kid appeared in front of me again. He had short black hair and brows eyes, his cheeks somewhat plump, while a few moles marred his face.
The crayon in his hand scraped against the paper with a sharp, steady sound that cut through the surrounding noise. As he drew, he kept his head down, his sole focus the paper in front of him.
Even as we drew nearer, he didnât seem to notice us.
"Donât mind it too much. Heâs just a kid with a lot of concentration. You werenât much different when you were younger." At the Matriarchâs comment, I could only smile while leaning closer to the kid to see what he was drawing.
But right as I managed to get a glimpse of his drawing, the smile on my face froze as the Matriarchâs voice entered my ears.
"Ah, it looks like heâs drawing Mr. Jingles again! Oh, my~ The drawing has gotten better than last time."
She began praising the drawing.
"The colors are more vivid, and it looks like heâs added even more detail than before. Itâs good, donât you think so too, Seth?"
The Matriarch turned her head to me.
"...Oh, yes. Itâs nice."
Right, it was nice...
Though I said this, I couldnât help but secretly inhale a breath of cold air while looking at the drawing. It wasnât anything fancy. It was the standard that one might expect from a young kid. Rough lines, no shadowing, and so on.
But that wasnât what grabbed my attention.
What grabbed my attention was something else entirely.
This drawing...
âItâs the same drawing as the one that Kyle showed me.â
It looked identical. From the lines to the coloring. Everything... was the same.
Could the drawing that he had shown me have been drawn by the same kid?
I needed to ask Kyle about it.
"Oh, look!"
The matriarch pointed at the drawing all of a sudden.
"The red dots on Mr Jinglesâs clothing werenât there before. It looks even more lifelike than before. But..." She tilted her head, pressing her hand against her cheek slightly, "There still needs to be some work done on the eyes."
Right, the eyes.
That was the aspect that drew me in the most about the drawing.
The swirling black lines that circled in place of where the eyes shouldâve been added a strange sense of detachment to the drawing.
It made the happy-looking clown look...
Souless.
"We can work on the eyes. If heâs improved in every other aspect, then that means that he can improve in that aspect too."
The Matriarch seemed genuinely pleased with the drawing, showering the little boy with praise. Unfortunately, he appeared far too absorbed in the black crayon he was holding, carefully circling it around the eye in his picture, to notice a word she said.
Scrrrâ Scrrr!
The more I found myself staring at the simple action, the more unsettled I felt as I looked at the matriarch.
"Can I ask you something?"
"...Oh? Sure thing."
Pulling her gaze away from the kid, the Matriarch smiled kindly at me.
"Ask me anything. Iâll see if I can answer."
"Yes."
I once again looked at the drawing before pointing at it.
"This Mr. Jingles... Where does he come from? Is he some sort of character from the television? Or maybe from some fast food chain?"
"Hm?"
The Matriarch cocked her head, her eyes slowly blinking. Then, as if realizing, she suddenly smiled.
"Oh, itâs nothing of the sort. I myself am not sure. I just know the name since itâs all the kids seem to talk about lately. Mr. Jingles, this. Mr. Jingles, that. Mr Jingles says... Apparently, itâs also rather famous in Resuvia."
Resuvia was the town located an hour from the orphanage. It was the only town located on the entire island.
"...I see."
I tried my best to look at ease, but the unease that I had felt ever since staring at the drawing only crept more and more into my mind with each passing second. The situation was definitely not simple.
âI should tell the details to Kyle. He might figure something out.â
He knew more about this stuff than me.
Raising my head, I looked at the matriarch, who seemed to understand as she turned her attention towards the little boy.
"Chris, weâre going to leave now. Show me your drawing once youâre done."
Scrrr!
The kid didnât reply. Instead, the sound of the crayon pressing against the paper grew even more pronounced as he circled his small hand around the eye, swirling the black crayon, over and over, and over again.
Scrrrr! Scrrrr!
The movement grew more and more erratic with the passing of the seconds, a frown marring the little kidâs features as his hand became faster and faster.
Taken aback, I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to look at the Matriarch.
But thenâ
It all stopped.
Silence.
A suffocating silence that was tainted by the gentle tapping of the rain as the kid slowly raised his head, and our eyes met.
Eventually, his lips parted.
"Mr. Jingles isnât very happy."
I froze dead in my tracks, unable to move as my gaze lingered on the little kid in front of me.
âMr. Jingles isnât very happy? What is that supposed to mean? What...â
The kid lowered his head and took out a new piece of paper and a new crayon.
Scrrrrr!
He began drawing once again.
The scraping sound of the crayon echoed across the surroundings.
I could only stand in silence, quietly watching the kidâs hands for a moment before looking at the Matriarch.
"Letâs go."
That was all she said, the smile on her face soft.
"...We shouldnât make Mr. Jingles sad."
She continued, her steps moving slowly toward the main room, separated by a small, dimly lit corridor.
"Apparently, itâs not good if Mr. Jingles is sad."
"...Oh."
I followed behind the Matriarch, finding her back moving further and further away from me. Eventually, my steps came to a pause as I slowly lowered my head, where I saw something roll from the wooden floor, stopping right at my foot.
Bending over, I picked up the object.
It was a small red foam ball. One that was rather squishy.
âOh, thereâs a hole at the center of it.â
The hole was followed by a long line that cut through it.
This...
I squished the foam ball again.
No sound.
In the end, I tossed it to the side.
âProbably one of the childrenâs toys.â