"Burp!"
Stuffed to the brim, Houma lazily picked at his teeth, a gloomy look clouding his face.
Who the hell spilled the beans last night?
He had roasted fish in the woods for half a day after slaying that old mountain wolf, yet not a single stray beast showed up, no tigers, no panthers, not even a curious raccoon!
What kind of "border village" was this?
Way too peaceful!
Whatever!
Houma tossed aside his thoughts and picked up his axe. He didn't know a single thing about architecture, but who cared? He had raw strength on his side. If nothing else, he could brute-force his way through and pile up a bathhouse with sheer muscle alone!
"Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"
"Even chopping trees is a kind of training!"
With the spirit of Might Guy seemingly surging through him, Houma's youthful fire blazed forth.
"Boom!"
In just five seconds, a tree as thick as a grown man's thigh came crashing to the ground.
"Next up, refining!"
Houma quickly stripped the bark and split the trunk, converting the tree into usable lumber in no time.
"Hmm... I'll need to cut down another seventeen or eighteen like this to build a truly grand bathhouse."
As he thought of the girls, big and small, back at the church, each with their own unique charm, a spark of ambition ignited within him.
A bathhouse, worthy of beauties, must be grand!
By around noon, Houma was staggering under a massive pile of logs strapped to his back, looking like a moving mountain as he trudged toward the village.
"Even carrying wood is part of my training!"
Gritting his teeth, he pressed on. Asta's body had great explosive strength, but his endurance still had a way to go. Carrying a load over fifty times his own weight was already pushing him to the edge.
"Now's not the time to quit!"
Bent so low his back was almost parallel to the ground, Houma left deep footprints in the soft dirt with each heavy step.
"Look! What kind of monster is that?!"
"Oh my god, it's covered in wood! Is it… a lumber beast?!"
"Wait, that's Asta, the little rascal from the church!"
"How heavy is that pile?!"
Farmers heading home from the fields stood frozen in shock. No one could believe that a fifteen-year-old kid was lugging that much lumber on his back.
"Make way, make way!"
Houma reached the open space outside the church and skidded to a halt, tossing the logs down in a neat heap with a bang bang bang that shook the ground.
"Not bad! If I push myself this afternoon, I should be able to finish the bathhouse."
He wiped the sweat from his brow.
"A…Asta, did you really carry all that yourself?!"
A small girl in a blue and white outfit stared at Asta in awe. This was even more impressive than watching Yuno magically dry clothes or split firewood.
In a world where magic was commonplace, physical feats like this were truly rare.
"Yep! I'm gonna build you all a nice bathhouse, warm even in winter! And everyone gets their own private bath bucket!"
Houma crouched down and wiggled his eyebrows playfully.
"Ah! Asta you… you shameless charmer!"
Blushing fiercely, the little girl squealed and bolted back into the church, leaving Asta standing in the wind, a bit bewildered.
"Wait… I didn't even say anything pervy?"
"Asta, you little punk! What are you up to now?!"
The church priest came bursting out like a steam engine, slamming the door open, only to freeze when he saw the pile of logs.
"Asta… did you rob a lumber caravan or something?!"
"Pfft, as if! If I were gonna rob something, I'd go for money, not firewood."
Houma rolled his eyes.
"Oho! Learning to talk back now, are you?"
The priest squinted, activating his Father-Level Taunt Skill:
"Look at you, our church's little shining star, always helping with chores since you were small! Unlike a certain someone who does nothing but roll in the mud all day!"
"I'm building a deluxe bathhouse for the church."
Houma replied casually, picking his nose.
"Say what now?"
The priest blinked. That completely broke his taunt combo.
"Since I was a kid, I've had a dream," Houma said solemnly, "That one day, every child in this church will have their own private wooden bath bucket. No more awkward shared bath days. And even in the dead of winter, everyone can soak in warm water!"
"Pffft, Don't make me laugh! If you can actually build a bathhouse, I'll crown you our church's Messiah!"
The priest doubled over in laughter, clutching his belly.
"Tch. Doubt me all you want, but don't complain when your face starts stinging later."
Rolling his eyes again, Houma turned and headed back out.
"Where are you going? It's lunchtime!"
"To improve our food situation, of course!"
Houma dashed toward the river, not on his hands this time, but full-speed, upright running.
At top speed, this new body covered the three-kilometer distance in just five minutes, twice as fast as a normal person.
"Here we go!"
Using the same method as earlier, Houma crafted his makeshift harpoon and reeled in another dozen fat carp.
This time, however, he was gentler, deliberately adjusting the force of his throws and tying the fish to a tough, flexible branch.
He bound the fish to the stick using rope and slung the whole thing over his shoulder, jogging back toward the church.
As he approached the gate, a sleepy-eyed boy, who looked suspiciously like Nara Shikamaru, opened the door with a bowl and chopsticks in hand.
"Asta," the boy muttered, "once again everyone waited just for you. Brother Yuno caught a fish with magic just before noon to improve lunch. When are you gonna be as useful as him?"
"Oh? That Yuno guy's starting to show promise, huh?"
Houma smirked and motioned for the kid to step aside.
"Wait, is that… fish?!"
The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the large carp tied to Houma's stick.
They even looked bigger than Yuno's catch!
But then… Yuno had caught two over two days.
As Houma walked past him into the church…
"Second fish…"
"Third fish…"
…
"Seventh fish…"
"Fifteenth fish!"
The boy's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
Was this for real?
The church's resident troublemaker and loudmouth, Asta, had just brought home fifteen fat carp?
"Looks like I caught a decent haul today."
Houma grinned, turning to leave the kid with a perfectly smug silhouette.
"That was some next-level flex. I'd give myself full marks."