SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Chapter 243: Chapter 243: What’s Next

The sunlight poured through the half-open curtains, golden and heavy. Trafalgar blinked against it, feeling the warmth crawl across his face before he turned his head slightly. Mayla was still asleep beside him, her breathing steady, the faint curve of her lips resting against the pillow.

He stared for a moment at her. The old version of him, the one from the university back on Earth, would’ve called this impossible. ’How the hell did I end up here?’ he thought. ’Living in a fantasy world, waking up next to her... I’m a bastard with absurd luck.’

He exhaled quietly, almost amused by the thought.

Mayla shifted slightly, the bedsheets rustling. Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. ”Morning...” she murmured, her voice soft.

”Morning,” he replied, sitting up. The sunlight hit his bare shoulders, already hot against his skin. Velkaris was warm this time of year — the kind of heat that made armor unbearable and excuses easy.

”You’re leaving already?” she asked, her tone still gentle but edged with that familiar worry.

”Yeah,” he said, reaching for his shirt. ”I’ve got to check the local and meet with Garrika. She’s waiting for me.”

Mayla rubbed her eyes and smiled faintly. ”Work never ends for you, does it?”

Trafalgar smirked. ”Maybe not. But if you start missing me too much, you can always drop by the academy. Ask for me — I’m sure they’ll tell you where my room is.”

Mayla let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. ”Sounds good.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

”I’ll see you later,” he said, stepping back toward the door.

Mayla’s eyes followed him, her smile soft and certain. ”You’d better.”

Outside, the city of Velkaris was already alive — heat radiating off the white stone, voices and mana lights flickering through the streets. Trafalgar squinted against the sun and smirked to himself. ’Alright then... time to move.’

The faint jingle of the bell above the door rang out as Trafalgar stepped inside. A wave of warm air mixed with the scent of wood, smoke, and freshly baked bread hit him almost at once. The public hall of the shop was busy for the morning — a few regulars at the tables, the hum of casual chatter drifting through the space.

He glanced toward the back, spotting Arden behind the half-open door that led to the private room — the old man was leaning back in his chair, puffing a cigar like he owned the world.

Trafalgar knocked lightly against the doorframe. ”Again with the cigar and no work? Impressive.”

Arden barked out a laugh, smoke curling around his head. ”You little bastard, you still talk like that? Come in, boy. Hells, it’s good to see you.”

Trafalgar stepped inside, grinning faintly. ”You too, old man. It’s been... what, a few weeks?”

”Feels longer,” Arden said, standing just enough to clap a heavy hand on Trafalgar’s shoulder. ”You’ve been keeping yourself alive, I hope?”

”Trying my best,” Trafalgar replied with a smirk. ”Where’s everyone else?”

”Kitchen, I think. Garrika’s probably yelling at someone.”

”That sounds about right.”

Arden laughed again, the sound rough but genuine. ”Go on then, don’t keep her waiting. Marella will scold me if I don’t offer you something to eat first.”

As if on cue, Marella’s voice echoed from the next room, firm and warm. ”And she’d be right to do so. Trafalgar, sit down before you fall over. You look like you’ve skipped breakfast again.”

Trafalgar raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the faint grin that tugged at his lips. ”I didn’t skip it. I just... postponed it.”

Marella appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth, her gray hair tied neatly in its usual bun. ”Postponed? That’s not a word we use here, dear. Sit, I’ll fix you something.”

”Yes, ma’am,” he said half-jokingly, dropping into a chair as she poured him a cup of tea that smelled faintly of mint and honey.

The clatter of utensils came from the kitchen — familiar, loud, and somehow comforting. Garrika’s voice rang out above it all: ”Who burned the toast again?!”

Before Trafalgar could even comment, a dark blur shot out from the doorway. ”Trafalgar!”

He barely had time to react — Garrika launched herself straight toward him, arms wide. Trafalgar leaned aside just in time, and the wolf girl landed with a soft thud on the seat next to him, tail flicking in annoyance.

”Still fast,” she muttered, brushing her hair back as her green eyes gleamed.

Trafalgar crossed his arms with a faint smirk. ”Still impulsive. How’d you even know I was here?”

Garrika grinned, sharp canines flashing. ”I smelled you.”

He blinked once, half amused, half baffled. ”You smelled me?”

”Mhm.” She leaned closer just enough to tease, her tone playful. ”You smell... good. Familiar.”

Arden snorted from behind his cigar. ”Careful. You’ll make him think you missed him.”

Garrika huffed, folding her arms but not denying it. ”Maybe I did.”

Trafalgar raised an eyebrow, pretending not to notice the faint blush that crept onto her cheeks. ”Guess my cologne’s working then.”

She flicked her tail, eyes narrowing in mock irritation. ”You don’t have cologne.”

He chuckled under his breath. ”Then I suppose it’s just natural talent.”

Marella’s voice cut in from the kitchen, sharp but fond. ”If you’re done flirting in my dining room, there’s breakfast waiting — for both of you!”

Garrika’s ears twitched. ”Coming!” she called, grabbing Trafalgar by the wrist and dragging him toward the table.

The sound of plates clinking filled the air as Marella served breakfast across the long wooden table. Trafalgar sat with Garrika at his side while two familiar figures entered from the back — Ronan and Sylven.

”About time you joined us,” Garrika said cheerfully, tail flicking once as she poured herself another cup of tea.

Ronan gave a small grin, his one remaining hand tucked casually in his pocket. ”We heard you shouting from halfway across the street. Kind of hard not to join.”

Sylven followed with his usual calm, his platinum hair catching the morning light. His tone was smoother, respectful. ”Trafalgar du Morgain. It’s good to see you again.”

Ronan nodded in agreement. ”Yeah — same here, Lord Trafalgar.”

Trafalgar sighed softly, resting an elbow on the table. ”You two really don’t have to use the full title. Just Trafalgar is fine. The ’lord’ thing makes me sound like I should be carrying a cane.”

Ronan chuckled lightly. ”You sure? Kind of suits you.”

”Don’t push it,” Trafalgar muttered.

Marella, wiping her hands on her apron, leaned against the counter. ”So, what brings you all here this early? I doubt it’s for my breakfast alone.”

Garrika perked up. ”We’re checking the mission board today — Trafalgar wants to hunt monsters.”

Sylven’s brows rose slightly, though his tone stayed composed. ”A hunt, then. What class of creature?”

”Flow-tier, probably,” Trafalgar replied, setting down his cup. ”Something strong enough to make me work for it.”

The words hung in the air for a moment. Ronan’s expression dimmed — he tried to smile, but it came out half-hearted. ”Guess that means I’m sitting this one out.”

Garrika turned toward him, ears lowering slightly. ”Ronan...” she said softly, her usual energy faltering.

Before the silence could stretch too long, Sylven stepped in. ”You’ll join the next one,” he said, his tone calm but firm. ”When your new arm is finished, I’ll make sure you come with us.”

Ronan blinked, a hint of life returning to his grin. ”You’ll regret that. I’ll outlast you on the field.”

”I doubt it,” Sylven replied smoothly, earning a few quiet laughs around the table. The heaviness in the room lifted, if only a little.

Marella, however, frowned from behind the counter. ”You’re really going out there again, Trafalgar? What need do you have to throw yourself into danger?”

Arden grunted in agreement, setting down his cigar. ”You’ve got nothing to prove, boy. People like us take those requests because we have to — it’s how we keep the doors open. You... you don’t need that.”

Trafalgar met their eyes, expression calm. ”I’m not doing it for money,” he said simply. ”I want to train.”

The older couple exchanged a look — disbelief mixed with something like concern.

”Train,” Arden repeated slowly, shaking his head. ”You call diving into monster nests training?”

Trafalgar gave a half-smile. ”It works.”

Garrika’s tail flicked once, her green eyes bright. ”See? He gets it. It’s about keeping sharp.”

Arden muttered under his breath, ”Sharp, sure. Until you get yourself gutted.”

But Marella’s sigh softened the moment. ”Just... be careful, all of you.”

Trafalgar inclined his head politely. ”Always am.”

Garrika’s tail swished, her excitement barely contained. ”Then let’s pick something now,” she said, pushing her chair back with a grin.

Trafalgar stood as well, matching her pace toward the wooden mission board on the far wall. The parchment sheets fluttered under the soft draft from the open windows — each one marked with requests, rewards, and the usual warnings.

Sylven and Ronan watched them go, the faint clatter of boots echoing on the floor.

”So,” Trafalgar muttered, scanning the listings, ”what do we have?”

Garrika leaned forward beside him, ears twitching as she read. ”Mostly escorts and supply runs... boring. Ah — here.” She tapped one with her finger.

Trafalgar took the sheet and read aloud. ”Request: Material collection from beasts in Verdant Hollow. Estimated danger range: Pulse to Prime Rank... Prime?”

His brows furrowed. ’Prime rank? That’s the fifth core stage... there are ten total. I’m still Pulse, but with my gear and the set bonus, I’m closer to a fresh Flow. Still... Prime is another level entirely.’

He glanced at Garrika, who was practically glowing with excitement. Her tail swayed behind her as her green eyes shimmered. ”Verdant Hollow’s is not far, it’s a good hunting ground,” she said quickly. ”Dense forest, a lot of mana in the air — creatures there drop high-grade materials. We could make a fortune if we get the right drops.”

Trafalgar folded the parchment slowly. ”Fortune’s not really my goal.”

”I know,” Garrika replied, grinning.

Marella’s voice broke the quiet before any of them could speak. ”Verdant Hollow,” she said from behind them, her tone carrying both knowledge and concern. ”That place still has an active Gate. Hunters use it all the time since the forest’s become famous for its mana flow — though most know better than to stay long.”

Trafalgar turned slightly, meeting her gaze. ”That so? Makes things easier. We can go in and out without trouble, then.”

Garrika gave a small nod. ”The Hollow’s efficient for short hunts — plenty of beasts, easy access.”

Marella folded her arms, the faintest sigh escaping her. ”Efficient or not, that forest’s taken plenty of fools who thought they could handle it. If you’re going, do it smart. No heroics.”

Sylven inclined his head respectfully. ”We’ll take the Gate, avoid the inner zones, and return before dusk. You have my word.”

”That better mean something,” Marella muttered, though her eyes softened slightly as she reached for a small pouch on the counter. She pressed it into Trafalgar’s hand — light, but heavy enough to clink. ”Supplies. Don’t argue, just take them.”

He smirked faintly. ”Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they turned to leave, Marella watched them from the doorway. ”You three... come back in one piece, you hear? That forest has teeth.”

Trafalgar gave her a short nod.

The door creaked open, letting in the brightness of the afternoon sun. The air outside shimmered with heat as they stepped into the street — Garrika walking ahead with light steps, Sylven silent and composed, Trafalgar trailing behind with a half-smile tugging at his lips.

Behind them, Marella’s voice faded with one last sigh. ”Just like his father... never learned how to stay still.”