Immortal Freeloader 4 (Patreon)

The caravan I noticed at a distance wasn’t too large. Eight carts, each pulled by a pair of oxen and driven by one person, and two people on horseback with swords in their belt, clearly guards. It was filled with bags that looked like grain, but I didn’t care about their trade product.

I cared about it, because the caravan was a good way to test the limits of the System and understand what counted as a gift to trigger it.

I couldn’t trade for it, or the hunter would have triggered it as well. A sense of superiority from the gift giver seemed to be a factor, which fitted well with the name Freeloader System.

“Well, let’s experiment,” I said.

I could have rushed forward directly, but instead, I grabbed some dirt, messing up my hair and my face to look like a desperate traveler. I made myself a new walking staff and even bandaged my arm to look like I was wounded.

Not exactly a decent way to act, but it was one thing that my own injury taught me that honor and pride were luxuries. It was even more true as I found myself in a new, unknown world with magic; accompanied by a warning about a great evil.

I used my new staff as a clutch as I moved as fast as a desperate man with a leg wound could. The oxen-pulled carts didn’t move fast, and soon, I managed to close in the distance.

One of the guards finally reacted to my presence when I was several hundred feet away. He rode back before standing in front of me. “Halt,” he said. “Who are you?”

“I’m a poor villager, great warrior,” I said, doing my best to copy the attitude of the hunter that faced me, fear and fascination. “I’m traveling to Dumassa for healing.”

“Are you sick!” he said, and I didn’t miss his tenseness.

I realized my mistake immediately. He was afraid of a transmitted disease. “No, my lord. A wolf bit me, and the wound infected,” I said, giving the easiest excuse.

“Why are you trying to get close?” he said.

“I was hoping that you might let me ride one of the carts, great one,” I said, trying to look as pathetic as possible.

“No,” he answered immediately. “How can I know you’re not working for bandits?”

“You are wise, great warrior,” I said even as I flinched, faking disappointment. Luckily, I wasn’t half bad at acting, as his gaze was filled with pity.

“Here,” he said as he threw a piece of half-rotten apple at me. I had no doubt that he kept it to feed it to his horse. “At least you can eat until you arrive in the city.”

I could have caught it, but I deliberately failed to react, and let it fall to the ground. “Thank you, great warrior,” I said even as I grabbed the apple, treating it as a treasure.

[Pity Bonus - 5]

[5x Return - Apple, Ordinary Low-Grade]

“Thank you, great warrior,” I said shamelessly, like he had just thrown me a treasure even as I carefully wrapped the apple. He said nothing, his expression colored with disdain, but he flicked a piece of copper at me before returning to the caravan.

[Pity Bonus 10 (Capped)]

[10x Return - Silver Coin]

I let the caravan move away before I slipped back to the forest, considering my findings. Some things about the working principles started to get clear.

One, someone had to be giving a gift out of a place of emotional superiority, or at least equality — I didn’t know it was exclusive to pity —  because the hunter didn’t give anything whether I was trading or not.

Two, the strength of the other party was important, and, since the text explicitly mentioned cultivation difference, it was probably a relative difference. The guard didn’t trigger it, but I didn’t automatically assume it would mean I could defeat him. Especially since I never fought with anyone except fistfights.

Three, the value of the initial gift was very important, as it was the things that triggered the value of the others.

Based on my observations, I even got a general sense of value. Ordinary was the lowest, then there was profound with a possible another category in between, then there was yellow, followed by black and earth.

Though, I wasn’t completely clear between yellow and black. They might be the reverse based on the value of the aptitude pill and the language jade. Still, it felt reliable.

Once the caravan drifted away sufficiently, I reached the System, and pulled the apple. Unlike the rotten piece that he had given, the apple was bright red and juicy. It didn’t look ordinary.

I ate it quickly. It was delicious. Unfortunately, it didn’t fill me as much as a rabbit.

I went back to the road and started walking once more, this time determined to pass around the caravan. However, this time, when I caught up with them, they had camped for the noon. I was about to take a wide turn, when the guard gestured me. “Stop,” he said.

“Yes, great warrior,” I said.

“Wait, and you’ll get the leftovers,” he said.

“Oh, thank you, great warrior,” I said, making a show of bowing repeatedly.

“Enough, don’t make too much noise, just clean the place once we leave,” called the other one in disdain. I said nothing, watching as they slowly roasted and ate half a pig. The eight cart drivers each ate normal portions, while the two guards each ate more than ten pounds of meat.

I only went to where they dropped their leftovers, though there was only one leg meat with some kind of meat left.

[Cultivation Difference Bonus - 5; Pity Bonus - 15 (Capped)]

[20x Return - Roasted Savage Boar Leg, Mortal Middle-Grade]

Once they left, I moved back into the forest, and went deep enough to avoid any potential observer, wondering whether the other guard was to trigger cultivation difference bonus, or the system summed them together.

A question for the future, I decided as I reached the System.

And ended up holding a whole roasted pig leg, one that smelled spectacular. It looked like the System filled the gaps first before enhancing its grade. “Excellent,” I said even as I ripped a leg and started eating, expecting it to eat all of it before I felt the gnawing hunger weaken slightly. So, I was surprised when I barely ate an eight of the leg before I felt truly full.

It was probably the difference between the ordinary and the mortal grade. Or maybe boar being savage made a difference?

“Let’s practice,” I said as I started going through the boxing routines I remembered. Straight, jab, hook, hook, straight…

Twenty minutes, and I experienced another shift in my body that was accompanied by increased strength, followed by another burst of ravenous hunger. This time, I finished half of it, and started practicing once again. Another session that took two hours, before I felt that sense of shift once more, and felt even stronger.

And, finished the boar leg.

“Wow, it takes a lot of food to improve as a martial artist,” I said, but I didn’t dare to practice more before I found a more consistent source of food.

I didn’t know whether I would go around begging, or find a better way to receive gifts, but either way, a town was a much better place to experiment.

But first, a test. I walked near a tree, punched … and rather than breaking my hand, I left a deep indentation on the tree, showing just how much stronger I got after my latest breakthrough — another concept I knew from the language jade.

Rather than following the road, I run through the forest. “Damn, that’s fast,” I said, fascinated by my own pace. Spending a decade of my life as a sprinter taught me about roughly guessing my speed, and now, I was running a hundred meters below five seconds comfortably…

And that was while running through a forest without pushing myself, each step refining my running technique further. Fascinating, though I would have been more impressed if I hadn’t met with that woman who could run fast enough that I couldn’t even register her movement.

However, as I moved, I came across bodies across the forest three times. One killed by beasts, but two carried signs of human intervention, their valuables gone.

Another reminder that it was a dangerous world.

The town was supposed to be two days away, but that was by walking. Running comfortably, I managed to arrive in the town before the evening.

The town was larger than expected, probably holding more than fifty thousand people, and it was surrounded by wooden walls. There were several carts that was lined against the gate, waiting for their turn. Though, unlike what I hoped, there wasn’t a crowd of beggars at the entrance that I could mix in between conveniently, forcing me to search for a small river to clean my face and give a better impression.

I also thought about pulling the cloak from the System storage, but after some consideration, I decided against it, afraid that it would be valuable enough to bring some dangerous attention. I didn’t want to pull the lost rich guy routine.

As I cleaned myself, I wondered what would be the best identity…