The midday sun hung low over the bustling village center of Kalentang. Stalls lined the dusty roads, and conversations—urgent and low—merged into a single living hum of commerce and community.
Jaka moved among the clusters of villagers like a shadow, keeping his eyes fixed on his target even as his presence went mostly unnoticed.
At the heart of the crowd stood Dyah Netarja, resplendent yet unyielding, the princess known for her practical reforms. Her clear, steady voice cut through the marketplace clamor as she addressed a small assembly of merchants and farmers.
Today, she was there to study the village's economic pulse, determine what resources they possessed, and what was required to lift the community for better results.
Better results equal better tax income.
"What is the current yield of our rice fields?" Dyah Netarja asked, turning to a weathered farmer whose hands told stories of long, grueling harvests.
"Princess, it's steady but low. We work hard—yet the methods are as old as the soil," the farmer replied, frowning as he wrapped a faded cloth around his calloused hand.
A young merchant piped up: "Our stockpiles fall short during the lean season. If we could improve our irrigation or trade networks—"
"Trade networks?" Dyah Netarja interrupted briskly, her tone both inquisitive and sharp. "Are you suggesting we revamp these channels? Because without a robust water system, increasing yield will remain a dream."
Before more voices could join, a deep murmur emerged from the back of the group.
Jaka leaned slightly closer to hear, watching with an intensity that matched his inner turmoil. His gaze drifted briefly toward a familiar figure—Ra Kuti, the anomaly whose very existence defied the system's original design.
Ra Kuti stood a few paces away from the gathering with his back to the throng, his eyes soft yet alert as he observed the scene. His presence was magnetic, an unspoken challenge etched in his silence.
Dyah Netarja's eyes roamed over the assembled villagers, and for a fleeting moment, her gaze caught Jaka, but she quickly dismissed it, reorienting her focus on the matter at hand.
"Enough with the doubts," she said firmly to the crowd. "I want to see a plan for improved water system, not empty promises. We have one season to show results—do not let inefficiency be our downfall."
The conversation ebbed into smaller clusters, voices now discussing local techniques, supply chains, and the materials needed for repair or expansion of irrigation channels.
Yet Jaka's mind churned with his own ambition.
He had come here not to debate economic plans but to grasp the thread leading to Ra Kuti—a chance to harness the anomaly that should never have existed, and to grow stronger under his guidance.
Before Jaka could slip away, Laksita appeared at his side. She was a quiet figure amid the clamor, her slender form carrying a worn cloth of handwritten notes.
Her eyes, full of a determined hunger for knowledge, scanned the throng as if searching for something profound among the mundane exchanges.
"You're leaving so soon, aren't you?" Laksita whispered, her tone carrying both a tease and a challenge. "There's so much here to learn. The merchants, the methods… even the stories behind every trade are lessons in our world."
Jaka offered her a tight smile, his thoughts clear. "I have my own lessons to learn today. I need to follow someone."
She frowned, adjusting the strap of her pack. "You mean Ra Kuti?"
"Exactly," Jaka murmured, eyes returning to the scene. "He's here, somewhere. And I need to see how he moves among these people, how he handles this realm's chaos."
Laksita sighed, thoughtful. "I can't keep up with your words, Jaka. I prefer studying directly. The villagers' interactions, their oral histories—they're a treasure trove of knowledge. I need to talk to someone who can explain the evolving traditions."
Jaka glanced between her and the bustling center. "Then follow your heart. Learn what you can. Dyah Netarja is also here." He offered a reassuring nod. "I'll catch up with you later."
Their paths diverged for a moment, each intent on their own pursuit: Laksita wove into the crowd toward a cluster of elders, and Jaka edged closer to where Ra Kuti lingered on the outskirts of the gathering.
As Jaka moved, he kept a careful distance from the main circle. Dyah Netarja's discussion had shifted to specifics: construction materials for water channels, strategies for community labor mobilization, and the potential for a cooperative venture with neighboring villages.
"I've heard that stone from the western quarry is of exceptional quality," one merchant said, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. "If we could secure that, perhaps the dam would hold longer and provide a steadier flow."
Dyah Netarja nodded. "I'm aware of that. I'll send my man with the details. We must be resourceful. Even if the royal coffers can assist, local ingenuity is key."
Jaka's eyes narrowed as he listened. Every word, every plan, played against the backdrop of his own narrative—the prediction of Kalentang's destruction, the fire that would consume his home, the world and it's systems, mysteriously interference with his designs.
But at that moment, his focus was singular: find Ra Kuti.
A low murmur came from behind him. Turning, Jaka found Ra Kuti emerging from a narrow lane between clustered huts. His features were carved in shadow and light, eyes attuned to the nature of every passing moment. Jaka quickened his pace, intent on catching up.
Jaka stood before Ra Kuti, heart pounding in his chest.
The man shouldn't even exist in this timeline—just a scrapped NPC from an abandoned draft. An anomaly. But maybe... one he could use to gain an edge.
He took a respectful step forward and bowed low, careful to mind the caste gap.
"Forgive my boldness, Master Ra Kuti. My name is Jaka. I humbly request your guidance. I seek to become stronger."
Ra Kuti said nothing at first. His eyes remained closed, as if the wind and the silence held more interest than the boy before him.
"And why should I divide my attention for a child like you?" Ra Kuti's voice was calm, but his words carried weight.
Jaka kept his head bowed.
"I understand that I ask much, and I come with no title or fame. But I offer determination, discipline, and sincerity. If those are worthy of your time."
Ra Kuti opened his eyes slowly, studying Jaka with an intensity that felt like it could unravel a person from the inside out.
"You are young, no more than ten, yet... something in your gaze. Fire. Purpose. And something ancient—older than time itself."
Still, he forced a calm face, pretending none of this phased him. "I—I am just Jaka, Master. A child who wishes to learn. Nothing more."
Ra Kuti narrowed his eyes. "Jaka... a common name. And whose son are you?"
Jaka tilted his head, confused for a second.
Then it clicked—Right, of course. Lineage matters here. Everyone's identified by family trades.
"My apologies. I am Jaka, son of Wijaya, the blacksmith."
Ra Kuti's expression shifted subtly. His brow furrowed, and then his eyes sharpened as if seeing Jaka anew.
"Wijaya? Mpu Wijaya? The former royal blacksmith of Majapahit?"
Jaka froze. "Uh... royal?"
Ra Kuti took a deliberate step forward, curiosity etched across his face.
"He forged for kings and warriors—one of the few trusted by the court. I, the member of Dharmaputra even ask him to forge a Kris yesterday. And you say he is your father?"
Jaka's brain short-circuited.
I never wrote that! Wijaya was supposed to be a basic blacksmith NPC for convenience—move the plot, craft some swords, that's it! This world is just retconning stuff on its own!
"Er... I-I didn't know that," Jaka muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "He's always just been... well, Father, makes tools and weapons for the villagers. That's all I ever knew."
Ra Kuti gave a low hum, arms folding. "It seems the blood of craftsmen still flows strong, even if forgotten. Your ignorance is not fault, but it is telling. This world hides truth even from its own children."
Jaka managed a nervous chuckle.
Oh great, the game I made is now generating its own lore and slapping it onto my background. At least my in-game dad gave me a prestige bonus—thanks, I guess.
He straightened, bowing once again. "Then I must apologize for my lack of knowledge, Master. I did not mean to mislead."
Ra Kuti's gaze softened just slightly. "Your lineage may open doors, but it is your will that will keep them open. Tell me, Jaka, son of Wijaya—what is it you truly seek?"
Jaka took a breath. There were many answers he could give. Power, clarity, control over this world gone rogue—but instead, he answered simply.
"To learn. To grow stronger. To understand my path."
Ra Kuti nodded slowly. "Very well, Jaka, son of Wijaya. I will not dismiss your request outright. If your resolve is true, then present yourself at the royal encampment by dawn tomorrow. There, you will face a trial. Pass it, and I will consider taking you under my guidance."
Jaka smiled despite himself. Sweet. High-tier mentor unlocked. Who knew background NPCs came with bonus hidden lore and questlines?
Intellect +15
[System Message: Lineage identified. Getting smarter, are we?]
Yeah... you're messing with me. If I ever get back to my world, I'm scrapping you and building a new system from scratch.