Chapter 70: Mrs. Walbury Might Be A Disciple
David walked with his hands in his pockets, the lower district moving around him the same way it always did.
’That was a disaster,’ he said internally.
A complete, total disaster. He’d grabbed April’s ass. On the first day. The memory was still fresh enough to make him wince — the way she’d gone still, the way she’d turned, the look on her face.
He’d honestly thought she was going to lose it on him. Full screaming, finger-pointing, security-calling meltdown. And somehow, by some grace he did not deserve, she hadn’t.
’You did that,’ he said to the system. ’You sent me in there and you had me grabbing my neighbor’s ass and now she thinks I’m a pervert.’
[The system did not issue any penalty. You were free to decide whether to proceed or not.]
’The point is you ruined my first impression. She was hot, and you ruined it.’
[The system did not ruin anything. If anything, it facilitated growth.]
David stopped walking for exactly one second, then kept going.
’Facilitated growth? What do you mean?’ he repeated. ’That’s what we’re calling it?’
[There is no simpler term for it.]
’She looked at me like I’d crawled out of a drain.’
Then the notification arrived — quiet, clean, dropping into his awareness like a stone into still water.
[Target profile updated.]
[April Holliday
Temptation Level: 11-> 13%]
He read it. Read it again.
’Plus two,’ he said slowly. ’I grabbed her ass and it went up two percent.’
[Correct.]
’I was expecting it to go negative.’ He exhaled through his nose.
He turned that over. Thirteen percent from a complete stranger who had every reason to be furious with him — it wasn’t nothing.
’Doesn’t make sense, though. She was mad back then. ’ he said, more to himself than the system.
[The system cannot access the target’s thoughts or reasoning.]
’I know, but—’
[What the system can report is the emotional register recorded at the point of interaction.]
David slowed slightly. ’Which was what?’
[Intrigue.]
He let that sit for a moment.
’She was intrigued because I grabbed her ass?’
[She was intrigued. The system makes no claim about causation.]
’Then what caused it?’
[The system cannot read the target’s mind. It reads current emotional state only. What was registered suggests she was intrigued by your composure in the aftermath.]
David frowned. ’My composure. I nearly lost my composure.’
[That information is not available to the target.]
He almost laughed. It came out as a short breath through his nose — not quite amusement, not quite anything.
The gym sign came up at the end of the block, as it always had.
He shook his head.
Thirteen percent. From grabbing her ass.
He pushed the door open, stepping out of the morning and into the familiar smell of chalk and rubber, and decided — for now, at least — to leave the whole embarrassing thing outside.
***
The session with Mrs. Walbury was supposed to be two hours.
It ran closer to four.
She didn’t go easy on him — he hadn’t expected her to. What he hadn’t expected was how quickly the gaps showed.
Kyah!
Mrs. Walbury thundered as she threw a low kick at David. He read it early — shifted his weight, pulled the leg back, let it pass.
She reset. Looked at him.
Threw it again, disguised behind a jab this time.
He slipped the jab and checked the kick clean.
’I can actually move now,’ he thought, and it wasn’t arrogance — it was just true. The stat increases had felt abstract on paper.
On a mat with a woman who clearly knew what she was doing, they were very, very real. His feet were finding angles he’d have missed two weeks ago. His arms were absorbing shots that would’ve folded him before.
Mrs. Walbury stepped back and raised one hand.
"That’s enough."
David lowered his guard, breathing through his nose. Sweat ran down the side of his face. He resisted the urge to brace his hands on his knees.
She looked at him for a moment — the kind of look that wasn’t hostile, just measuring. Then she reached for the towel on the bench and said, without particular fanfare:
"You’re a fast learner."
David blinked. "Thank you."
"I’m not complimenting you," she said. "I’m telling you a fact. You picked up the check step in about four reps. Most people take a week." She draped the towel over her shoulder. "If you keep at it seriously, you won’t need me for long."
’Careful,’ he thought. ’Don’t smile too wide.’
"I’ll need you for a while yet," he said. "That jab combo at the end nearly took my head off."
The corner of her mouth moved. Not quite a smile. Close.
She reached for her water bottle and David rolled his shoulder, working out a knot, and decided it was as good a moment as any.
"Can I ask you something? It’s kinda personal...just so you know."
"You’re going to anyway."
"Have you ever entered a dungeon?"
She paused mid-drink. Set the bottle down. "Where’s that coming from?"
"Just curious," he said. "You move like someone who’s had real training. Not just gym training."
"Hmm..." She studied him for a second. "I’ve been in dungeons. A few runs, a long time ago." A short pause.
"What happened?"
"F-rank pays almost nothing," she said plainly.
"And you can still die in them. The math wasn’t hard." She set the towel aside. "I figured I’d rather build something stable than risk my life for gate-clearing fees that wouldn’t get me to my hopeful goals."
David nodded slowly. He let a beat pass. He knew he probably should have asked her about her goals, but rather-
"The hunter exam’s coming up," he said. "I’m going to take it."
That made her look at him properly. "You."
"Me."
"You just learned to check a low kick this afternoon."
"I learn fast," he said. "You said so yourself."
She exhaled — something between a scoff and a laugh that she didn’t fully commit to either way. "What made you decide that?"
"The Cross Foundation’s putting resources into the lower district," he said. "Training support, exam prep. Seemed like the right time to actually do something with it."
She tilted her head slightly. "And the dungeon side of things?"
"Gates don’t clear themselves." He shrugged. "There aren’t enough hunters for the lower district as it is. Someone’s got to."
Mrs. Walbury looked at him for a moment with an expression he couldn’t quite place — not impressed, not dismissive, somewhere in the middle.
"That’s a very heroic thing to say."
"It’s just true."
"Mm." She took a sip of water. Set the bottle down. "The exam’s harder than people expect. Especially without a ranked team backing you."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"I’m working on it," he said. Which was true enough.
She held his gaze another second, then seemed to decide that was sufficient, and looked away. He let a beat pass.
"Can I ask you something else?"
"You’ve been asking me things for the last ten minutes."
"If you had a real shot at it," he said. "Not F-rank. Something you could actually build on — would you go back into a dungeon?"
The question sat differently than the others. He felt it in the small shift of her posture — not much, just enough.
"Where is all this coming from?"
"Curiosity."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it keeps being true."
She looked at him. "Why does it matter whether I would or wouldn’t?"
"Just a theory I’m testing." He lied. In truth, he was asking to be certain that she could fit the criteria of a disciple.
"What theory?"
"That walking away from something isn’t the same as not wanting it anymore."
The gym was quiet around them for a moment — the distant clank of weight plates from somewhere below, the low hum of the ventilation doing nothing useful for the heat.
Mrs. Walbury picked up her towel. She didn’t answer right away, and when she did, it wasn’t really an answer.
"I would...have to think about it if it came to that."
"Hmm...that so..."
She gave him a look then moved toward the equipment rack. He took that as his cue and reached for his bag.
"I need a shower," he said. "My legs have stopped working properly."
"That means it was a good session."
"Easy for you to say." He slung the bag over his shoulder, already half-thinking about the warm comfort of the gym’s shower when—
"David."
He turned.
She had her back half to him, resetting the focus mitts on their hooks. She didn’t look up when she said it.
"Do you have plans tonight?"
He paused. "No. Why?"
She turned then. Her expression was the same as it always was — composed and giving very little away.
"I was ... sort of bored. So I figured that since we’ve been working together for so long, it wouldn’t be wrong if we eventually got a date together."
David looked at her.
’She’s inviting me to her house.’
He kept his face neutral. Warm, but neutral. "Mm...like a date?" he said.
She didn’t reply, rather her cheeks only reddened a bit.
"I’d like that... although the day matters, I’m kinda busy."
She returned her glance to him, gave a small nod as a smile drew on her face.
"Alright. So how about..."
"You won’t have to wait," he said, with a warm full grin.
"I’ll text you whatever day I’m ready to meet."
She paused for a moment before she responded with a single nod.