Culture First: Synchronizing with Junior High School Students

The morning sunlight filtered through the window lattices, casting mottled patterns across the wooden floor.

Lynch Graywhite woke up feeling exceptionally refreshed. Whether it was because the black chicken ginseng soup from last night had done its job, or because that 0.87% progress bar gave him boundless hope, he felt full of energy.

Felsy was still fast asleep. To avoid waking her, Lynch Graywhite dressed quietly, finished washing up, and headed to the side room in the courtyard.

Yesterday, Felsy said she wanted to give Kurisma some work instructions, and he wondered if the girl had actually listened.

Kurisma, time to get up for breakfast.

Lynch Graywhite pushed open the door to the side room.

Then, he froze.

On the bed, Kurisma was bound tightly like a sturdy silkworm cocoon by several black ropes of unknown origin—actually manifestations of magic. A neatly folded cotton cloth was stuffed into her mouth, and two high-grade-looking alchemical earplugs were wedged into her ears.

The young girl stared blankly at the ceiling, two dried tear tracks hanging from the corners of her eyes. She radiated a sage-like aura, as if she had already finished contemplating the meaning of life.

This...

Lynch Graywhite hurried over, removed the earplugs, took the cloth out of her mouth, and spent a great deal of effort untying the ropes.

What is going on? Lynch Graywhite asked in surprise. How did you end up sleeping like this?

Kurisma took a deep breath of fresh air, and a flicker of focus finally returned to her brown slit pupils. She glanced at Lynch Graywhite, then toward the main house, her body instinctively trembling.

It’s... it’s nothing...

Kurisma spoke with a sob in her voice, lying through her teeth. This is... this is to prevent moving around while sleeping! It’s my tribe’s special Restraint Sleeping Method! Yes! That’s it! It’s very... very helpful for improving sleep quality!

Is that right?

Does someone really like being tied up while they sleep?

Or was this some kind of special preference of the beast-ear tribes?

Lynch Graywhite reluctantly accepted her explanation. After all, Kurisma was a bit eccentric, so it wasn’t surprising for her to have strange ideas.

Just then, a commotion of voices and the neighing of horses came from outside the courtyard gate.

Hmm? Who’s here so early?

A bit puzzled, Lynch Graywhite stepped out of the side room.

When he opened the courtyard gate, he saw a small convoy of three carriages parked outside.

The carriages were piled high with bulging sacks and brand-new wooden crates, all stamped with the golden emblem of the Holy Radiance Church.

The person in charge of the delivery wasn’t Bishop Lalavina, but a young acolyte.

At this moment, Lalavina was hiding under her covers back in town, pretending to be ill.

The acolyte had clearly received some stern warnings before coming. Standing at Lynch Graywhite’s door, his face was pale, his legs were shaking, and he gripped a checklist tightly. His eyes were filled with terror, as if he were facing the gates of hell.

Seeing Lynch Graywhite walk out, the acolyte nearly dropped the list in fright.

He-hello! Are you Mr. Lynch Graywhite?

The acolyte’s voice shook like a leaf in the wind. These are the charity supplies specially approved by the Bishop for Buena Village.

Oh! They’re here already?

Lynch Graywhite was pleasantly surprised. He had only agreed to it yesterday, and it arrived early this morning. This efficiency was truly touching.

Everything is here: five hundred sets of cotton clothes, two thousand pounds of fine flour, and lamp oil!

As the acolyte spoke, he frantically directed the drivers to unload. Quick, get it down! Don’t waste the gentleman’s time!

His manner didn’t look like he was delivering warmth; it looked like he was tossing away a hot potato.

In less than ten minutes, the once spacious area in front of the gate was piled into a small mountain of goods.

Well then, the supplies have been delivered. Here is the checklist! We’ll be leaving now and won’t disturb you any longer.

The acolyte shoved the list into Lynch Graywhite’s hand. Without even daring to take a sip of water, he jumped onto the carriage.

The convoy kicked up a cloud of dust, disappearing at the end of the village road as if fleeing for their lives.

Lynch Graywhite held the checklist and watched the retreating figures, unable to help but sigh in admiration.

Doing good deeds without seeking fame, coming and going like the wind. The quality of church personnel these days is truly high.

At this time, Kurisma also poked her head out from the house.

She looked at the mountain of supplies at the door, her beast ears twitching upright.

Fine white flour? High-quality cotton clothes? And premium lamp oil that only nobles could afford?

This...

An image of the Demon Realm demanding tribute from human kingdoms instantly flashed through Kurisma’s mind.

As expected of the Great Witch and the unfathomable Lynch Graywhite!

The awe in Kurisma’s eyes grew even deeper. With just one conversation, they made the human forces obediently offer such a generous annual tribute! This is a sign of submission!

It seems the Bishop of the Nolent Territory has completely become a puppet of the Lord. These aren’t charity supplies; this is clearly protection money paid to the Demon Lord’s castle!

Thinking of this, Kurisma straightened her back, feeling that as the gate-keeping general, she also shared in the glory.

Kurisma, stop daydreaming and give me a hand.

Lynch Graywhite called out. Let’s move these things into the warehouse first. With this much flour, it would be a shame if it got damp.

Coming, coming!

Kurisma immediately scurried over. She picked up two hundred-pound bags of flour with one hand and walked as if she were flying.

These were spoils of war; moving them felt invigorating.

After working for over an hour, they finally organized the supplies.

Lynch Graywhite wiped his sweat, feeling full of gratitude toward the generous Bishop.

Since they showed so much respect, I shouldn’t be impolite either.

Lynch Graywhite thought for a moment and decided to write a letter to express his thanks.

He went back inside, found a pen and paper, and sat at the table to deliberate over his words.

After finishing the heavy lifting, Kurisma had nothing to do, so she leaned over as well.

She lay by the table, curiously watching Lynch Graywhite write row after row of squiggly symbols on the paper.

What are you doing? Kurisma asked.

Writing a thank-you letter, Lynch Graywhite explained as he wrote. They sent so many things, we have to return the courtesy. Although we don’t have anything valuable, writing a letter to show our appreciation is necessary.

Oh... Kurisma nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

In her view, this was likely some kind of Demon Lord’s Decree declaring sovereignty, or perhaps a commendation for a subordinate’s satisfactory work.

Brother Lynch, what does this word say? Kurisma pointed to a word on the stationery.

This one is gratitude.

And this one?

This one is remember.

Lynch Graywhite put down his pen and looked at Kurisma with some surprise. You don’t know how to read?

I don’t. Kurisma wagged her tail matter-of-factly. I’m from the beast-ear tribe; we don’t do that where I’m from. As long as your fists are big enough, who cares what the words say? Back in the Scorched Ear... cough, back home, my adjutant read all the documents to me.

As the Thirteenth Pillar of the Scorched Earth Guard, Kurisma’s level of education was roughly equivalent to being illiterate.

Although she could barely recognize some common runes of the Demon Realm, she was completely in the dark when it came to the complex script of the human common tongue.

This won’t do.

Lynch Graywhite frowned.

In this world, being illiterate was a real handicap. For starters, how would you deliver a letter if you couldn't even read the address?

If you ever wanted to study advanced alchemy or magical theory in the future, not being able to read would make it all for naught.

Of course, such high-level pursuits were likely quite a ways off for Kuma...

"Since you call me 'Brother,' I can't just stand by and let you remain an illiterate."

Lynch suddenly felt a surge of inspiration, a sense of paternal responsibility welling up within him. "Come here. I happen to be free, so I’ll teach you a few words."

"Huh?"

Kuma’s ears instantly drooped, her face twisted in resistance. "I don’t want to! What’s the point of learning to read? It’s not like it’ll put food on the table. I just need to be strong!"

She hated studying more than anything. Back at the public school in the Demon King’s City, she had been a notorious truant, falling asleep the moment a lecture began.

"No, you have to learn," Lynch said, putting on a stern face. "This is for your own good."

"I won't—"

Just as Kuma was about to throw a tantrum to refuse, a crisp system notification chimed in Lynch’s mind.

[Ding!]

[Detected that the host is attempting to carry out a great work of civilization!]

[Although you are facing a savage monster with a brain full of muscle—one who knows nothing but fighting and eating—as a future Demon Lord, how can your subordinates be a bunch of illiterates?]

[Side Quest Issued: The Sparks of Civilization (I)]

[Quest Description: Teach the "ignorant" Thirteenth Pillar, Kurisma, how to read. Let the light of knowledge illuminate her barren cerebral cortex.]

[Objective: Ensure Kuma masters at least 500 common words of the Human Common Tongue, reaching the literacy level of a fifth-grader in the Central Continent’s public schools.]

[Reward: +3 Free Attribute Points]

[Extra Reward: Unlock the title "Renowned Teacher" (When equipped, your teachings will carry an irresistible authority).]

Lynch’s eyes instantly lit up.

Three free attribute points!

Previously, he had worked himself to the bone cooking and giving massages, only to receive 0.1 or 0.5 points at a time. This time, just by teaching this girl to read, he would get three whole points?

This system was finally being generous for once!

Lynch’s gaze toward Kuma changed instantly.

He was no longer looking at the neighbor’s silly kid; he was looking at a walking experience pack, a crop waiting to be harvested.

"Kuma."

Lynch flashed an exceptionally "kind" smile while twirling a quill pen in his hand.

"Let’s play a game."

"If you can learn the words on this page, I’ll make you... Sweet and Sour Spare Ribs for lunch. How does that sound?"

Kuma, who had been shaking her head, froze instantly.

She swallowed hard, looking at Lynch and then at the densely written letter.

Sweet and Sour Spare Ribs? She had never tasted them before, but the name alone sounded delicious!

"Re... Really?"

"Of course," Lynch said, coaxing her further. "Besides, if you learn well, Sister Felsy will praise you. You don't want to be seen as a dummy by her forever, do you?"

This sentence hit Kuma right where it hurt.

"Fine! I'll learn!"

Kuma gritted her teeth, looking like she was about to march onto a battlefield. "It's just reading, right? A genius like me can split ironwood; why would I be afraid of a few tiny symbols?"

Lynch nodded in satisfaction.

"Very good. Then let's start with this word."

He wrote the word [Obedience] in large letters on the paper.

"Come, repeat after me..."

In the morning light, two figures, one large and one small, leaned over the table.

Kuma had no idea that with this step, she was plunging into the endless abyss known as "knowledge," and into the hellish tutoring Lynch had prepared for those three attribute points.

At the very least, he would bring her literacy up to the level of a middle schooler!