Loki’s Successor System

Jin, soaking in water, returned to his Grandmother with the pills he had bought for her. He stood at her bed, looking down at her with hints of guiltiness radiating out from his face.

He pushed a hand down into the plastic bag he had been holding, and he took out a box. His grandmother wasn't moving, she laid there stagnantly; with her eyes shut.

Brimming with apprehension, Jin pessimistically assumed that she had been laying dead before him as opposed to presuming she was merely slumbering quiescently.

To stab incertitude into its core, Jin decided to ascertain whether his grandmother was alive or not.

Slowly, he handed the box to her, prodding her lifeless hand a bit, "Grandma, here," he pushed it closer, "Medication that'll help you heal up."

'Hopefully it does...hopefully…'

Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. She stared at it for a while. Then, she deliberately took her time and veered her body on the bed to in turn get a better view of her lamentful grandson.

She took the box, "Thank...you…"

She opened the box, and took out a small, transparent packet of light-green pills.

"I'll go get some water for you to drink as well," said Jin, departing the room.

He left the room, walked down the stairs, and poured water into a glass, filling it to the brim. Then, he went back up the stairs, with his hands clutched around the glass cup. He entered her room again, and stood before her.

He waited until she sat up properly to drink the water, and then he finally handed the glass to her.

She put two pills in her mouth, and took the glass from Jin; looking into it, and bringing it to her lips. Her lips rested gently on the brim of the glass, and she slowly raised the cup as she gulped down the water along with the pills.

She handed the empty glass to Jin, "Thanks. But, it took a lot out of me to sit like this. Next time," she winced, "I'll swallow the pills as is."

"That's so difficult though," Jin furrowed his brows, "Are you even that sick? Too sick to sit down?

She gazed up at him, "Yeah, I'm that sick. Too sick to sit down…"

"I'm really sick, Jin…just as you said…"

[One of your active skills strengthens]

[+1 Exp]

[Exp: 8/15 | Level 2]

Jin tinged was boiling with seething rage but tried not to show it to his grandmother, "Okay, I'll have to make you something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I'm starving," she confessed, laying back down in the bed.

Jin looked down at the floor with balled fists, "We're running out of money, grandma…"

She peered at him, with a worried look lingering on her countenance, "What will we do, Jin?"

Jin clenched his fists tighter, still gazing down at the floor, "I'll get a job. One that'll help pay for things."

Her eyes expanded, "But Jin—it's really dangerous out there. I wouldn't sleep for a second knowing that you're out there with those goblins," she scowled "And those Orcs. Those hobgoblins."

"Who cares? Just because they're stronger than us doesn't mean we have to cower away inside our shells like some turtles. We're people too."

"Jin, you're missing the point. Those creatures are unruly. We can't trust them for a second—they're disgusting. Can you remember what they did to your Uncle?"

He didn't answer.

"He's dead, Jin. He's dead. Shot by a Hobgoblin for the little money he had. That's just the way it is…"

"Grandma, you're worrying again…"

"I'm sorry, Jin. It's just that I don't want to lose you. Look at how many people I lost! Both of my daughters are dead, Jin," she looked at him, "If you start working out there, I won't sleep at all…"

Jin turned to face her, "Well," he said, "Looks like you're gonna be having insomnia for a while…"

***

Jin was about to make his Grandmother some chicken sandwiches to eat. He did his best. He wasn't a cook by any means, but he hoped his grandmother would enjoy them nonetheless.

While preparing the sandwiches for her, he couldn't stop thinking about his system. He still couldn't believe he had something as powerful as this all to himself.

All to himself alone.

Still, he had no idea why it was given to him. Why him of all people? A lowly human being struggling to survive amongst the other races everyday.

The Muslim troll lady: Jin believed that it was her who bestowed the system upon him.

Sure, he had absolutely no idea how she went about doing something like that. And he didn't know who she was either. But he had a hunch.

Was she a God?

Or was she one of these so-called successors?

These were the two questions with answers still disturbingly unbeknown to him. He desperately craved answers to these questions.

Why would she choose someone who has no plans to use it for neither good nor evil?

Jin began to feel overwhelmed with all the questions he had been asking himself as if to magically receive the answers.

No, he had to get his ass up, and search for answers himself. But for now, he had to save someone dear to him.

In the kitchen, he stood with his hands on his waists, his eyes sweeping the room. Then, he let out a loud sigh as he walked up to the freezer.

He opened the freezer, and took out some already cleaned meat. The meat was already gutted, and skinned, and so it was easier to cook.

He rested the three chunks of chicken breasts on the countertop, and went for some extra spices and ingredients.

When he returned, however, one of the chunks of meat had disappeared. Looking down at the floor, he saw Benjamin chewing on the chunk he was looking for.

He deprecatingly shook his head at the dog, and continued working.

"Greedy piece of shit. Fine, eat your share raw. Eat it raw, Benji, eat it raw. 'Cause there's no way I'm gonna give any more pieces…especially the ones I'm about to cook…"

The dog peered up at him, it passed its tongue across its mouth, and barked twice.

"Roof roof," Jin mimicked, "Fuck you too, Benjamin."

Jin then rubbed his index and thumb fingers together in a sprinkling motion, drizzling salt and pepper onto the chunks of raw meat.

After doing so, he pushed the chunks of meat in the middle of the counter as opposed to the end—where Benjamin couldn't get them.

He then went for some flour. He took a glass bowl, and dropped some flour into it. Then, he, eyes slit, ambled his way back up to the chunks of meat again.

He placed the bowl on the same counter, and took each chunk of chicken breast in turn and dipped them—front and back—in the bowl of flour.

Smiling at his progress, he got a pot, and walked over to the stove. He put the pot on the stove. Then, he placed his fingers on the knob designated to the specific pan-support area where he had placed the pot.

He then revolved the black knob, and suddenly there were sputtering flames beneath the iron pot.

Jin quickly rubbed his hands together, "Alright, let's get the meat cooking…"

He then put a piece of butter in the heated pot, and walked over to the seasoned chicken breasts that were covered in flour.

Slowly, he dropped the chunks of meat into the pot. A sizzling abruptly wafted through the air, and a drifting aroma conjurred, escaping this said pot.

The scent entered Jin's nostrils as he stood there; he was very pleased with the progress he had made. Who knew cooking could be this fun?

Jin flipped the meat in turn so that the other side could get cooked. Loudly, the pot sizzled.

When the meat was finished frying, he took them out of the pot entirely, and turned off the stove. He placed the crispy, fried chicken on a plate, and went for some buns.

He then opened the buns and put the meat in them. Finally, he added some vegetables, ketchup, garlic sauce, and some cheese.

He rested the created mouth-watering, chicken sandwiches on a plate, and went upstairs with it in his hands. A soft smile appeared on his face as he entered his grandmother's room.

He watched as she ate the sandwiches, and drank the soft drink he gave to her.

She burped loudly, "Pardon me. I didn't know I was that hungry…"

"Yeah, it happens to me as well."

"It does?"

"Yeah. Also, how did it taste?"

She tinged with euphoria, "That was honestly better than what I would have made, Jin."

Of course it was.

"Thanks," he cooed.

"Who taught you to cook like that?"

"Honestly, I just watched you a few times."

She smiled, "Your mother would be so proud of you…"

Suddenly, a nuance took form on her face for a split second. Her radiant smile quickly withered away.

"Jin?"

"Grandma?"

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while."

He droned, "And that is?"

She looked at him in the face, and quickly gazed down at the floor. Sighing, she then asked, "I…can't. You know what—I need some more time. Can I tell you later?"

"Sure…take all the time you need. You're going to make it out of this sickness alive anyway…"

She uttered not a word in response. And Jin heeded her demeanor while gawking at her.

Simply, he carried out the dishes, and washed them at the sink. With drooped eyelids, he walked over to a couch in the living room.

He turned around, and was about to sit on this couch, when suddenly he heard a ring that sounded through the air. It was so quiet yet so loud.

It was the doorbell. The doorbell Jin and his grandmother hadn't heard in years. They even forgot it existed. Yeah, it was irrefutably the doorbell. But who could it be at the door?

Who could it be visiting them?

Who?

Slowly, Jin walked up to the door, clasping his hands to the knob. He inhaled deeply, and air came rushing into his lungs. Then, he let out the air with an exhale. The air that brimmed his lungs quickly gassed out from his mouth and nostrils.

And, finally he opened the door.

His heart accelerated.

Who was it?

His eyes gaped.

In front of him, stood a tall figure; with a high fade cut; curly jet black hair on top of his head. His impenetrable eyes peered at Jin, as he stood there smirking widely.

From the time Jin landed eyes on him, he knew exactly who it was.

"Flint?"