Chapter : 4

  "A farm? You want to be a farmer?" Jasmin looked at him with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Brother, look around you. We are a middle-class family. Dad works overtime at the factory every day. Mom takes sewing jobs to help pay the bills. We aren't rich nobles who can just 'retire' to the countryside because we feel like it!"

  Ken sighed. He knew she was right, logically speaking. But what she didn't know was that Ken could literally grow a forest with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to. He could turn rocks into gold using high-level alchemy. Money wasn't a problem for him—effort was the problem. He couldn't explain that he just wanted to live like the protagonist of a "Slice of Life" anime.

  "We need money to survive, Ken," Jasmin continued, her voice rising. "You are the eldest son. You are the only male heir of the Eliot family. You are our hope! If you don't get a high-paying job in the city, who is going to take care of Mom and Dad when they get old? If you chase these silly dreams, they are going to suffer."

  Ken picked up his glass of water and took a sip, trying to buy some time. He looked at his sister. She really cared about the family. It was sweet, but also a pain in the neck for him.

  "Why is it always me?" Ken asked, putting on his best 'innocent victim' face. "You’re smart, Jas. You get better grades than I ever did. Why don't you become the big CEO and save the family?"

  Jasmin frowned, looking down at her plate. "Don't be stupid. I’m a girl."

  Ken raised an eyebrow. "So what?"

  "So, society is tough," she muttered. "Men get the better jobs. Men inherit the family responsibilities. That’s how the Empire works. I’ll probably just get married off to some shopkeeper or clerk. You’re the one who has the chance to rise up."

  Ken let out a long breath. He hated that way of thinking. In his previous life on Earth, things were different. And even in this world, some of the strongest mages he knew were women.

  "That is old-school thinking, little sister," Ken said, pointing his spoon at her. "Girls today have advanced so much. Look at the 6th Princess! She is one of the strongest mages in the country. Look at the female knights on TV. They are terrifying."

  "That’s different. They are royals," Jasmin argued.

  "Power is power," Ken said, shrugging. "You have a brain. You can work. You can take care of Mom and Dad just as well as I can. Probably better, actually, since you remember to take out the trash."

  "It's not about that!" Jasmin groaned. "It's about duty! You have so much potential, and you just want to waste it growing... potatoes!"

  Ken chuckled. "Potatoes are important. You can make fries, chips, mashed potatoes... they are the versatile heroes of the food world."

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  "I am being serious!" Jasmin yelled.

  "Okay, okay," Ken said, holding up his hands in surrender. He realized he couldn't win this argument with logic. He had to rely on his secret weapon: acting like a helpless fool. "Look, I’m just saying, I’m not built for the corporate life. I get tired easily. My back hurts if I sit too long. Maybe the farm life is better for my health."

  He slumped his shoulders and made a pathetic, tired face. It was a perfect performance. He looked like a man who would collapse if he had to file one more tax report.

  Jasmin looked at him with pity and annoyance. "You are unbelievable," she muttered, finally picking up her fork again. "Mom, say something to him. He’s being ridiculous."

  The dining room went quiet again, save for the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain. Ken smirked internally. He had successfully dodged the commitment for now. He went back to his chicken, dreaming of a future where his hardest task was watching clouds float by.

  ________________________________________

  ----

  Brandon Eliot, Ken’s father, had been eating quietly during the entire argument. He was a man of few words. His hair was graying at the temples, and his hands were rough from years of working with machines at a textile factory. He looked tired. He always looked tired.

  He placed his napkin on the table and cleared his throat. The sound commanded attention immediately. Even Jasmin stopped chewing.

  "Ken," Brandon said, his voice deep and gravelly.

  "Yes, Dad?" Ken sat up a little straighter. He respected his father. Brandon was a good man who worked hard for his family.

  "I understand what you are saying," Brandon said slowly. He looked at the ceiling, as if remembering something from a long time ago. "When I was your age, I didn't want to work in a factory. I wanted to move to the coast. I wanted to open a small shop and sell fishing gear. I wanted the quiet life, too."

  Ken’s eyes widened slightly. He didn't know that. "Really?"

  Brandon nodded. A small, sad smile touched his lips. "Yes. I hated the noise of the city. I hated the smoke. But, a dream costs money, son. To buy a farm, you need land. To buy land, you need gold. To get gold, you need a job."

  He looked at Ken with serious eyes. "I never made enough to leave the city. I got stuck. I don't want you to get stuck. But you can't start at the finish line. If you want that farm, you have to earn it first. In this world, peace is expensive."

  Ken felt a small pang of guilt. He had enough magic power to turn the entire backyard into diamonds if he wanted to. He could buy a thousand farms tomorrow. But he couldn't tell his father that. To his father, Ken was just a normal boy with average grades and no money.

  "I... I get it, Dad," Ken said softly. "I need to save up first."

  "Exactly," Brandon said. "Work hard for ten years. Save your money. Then, if you still want to grow potatoes, you can do it with your head held high. But don't run away from work just because you are lazy."

  "I'm not lazy," Ken lied. "I'm just... energy efficient."

  "Same thing," Brandon chuckled.

  At that moment, the kitchen door swung open. Khadija, Ken’s mother, walked in carrying a bowl of fresh salad. She was a plump, kind-faced woman who usually had a smile for everyone. But tonight, she looked worried. Her forehead was creased with lines of stress.

  She set the bowl down on the table but didn't sit immediately. She stood behind Brandon’s chair, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  "Talking about the future?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

  "Just trying to get Ken to wake up," Jasmin said, stabbing a tomato with her fork.

  "Well," Khadija said, looking at her husband and then at her children. "I don't know if making plans is even useful right now. Did you hear the news tonight?"

  "What news?" Ken asked. He usually ignored the news. It was always boring politics or weather reports.