"This was my father's hunting rifle. He was the best hunter in the nearby villages, and once defeated three gnoll bandits all by himself. Sigh, you've helped me so much these past few days, and I don't have anything decent to give you.
I hope this rifle can protect true warriors like you."
In a corner of the city square, Meow Shark, one of the student players, accepted the weapon with both hands from the kindly Sister Jules.
The woman was the camp's medic. Meow Shark had helped her with a series of tasks, from finding old photographs to tracking down her lost cat.
He'd thought that was the end of it.
But tonight, during the celebration, the old woman recognized him and gave him her "family heirloom."
Meow Shark was delighted.
Although the reward for this "quest chain" wasn't any better than the elite musket he was already using, there was still something wonderful about running into a "familiar face" in a crowd.
Especially with the grateful, kindly look in the old nun's eyes, and the little tabby cat in her arms—the one he'd rescued from a nook in the ruins. At that moment, Meow Shark couldn't help but straighten his back.
What did it mean to really get into character?
"Hey, Shark! Let's go. They're calling us over to watch the ceremony in the corridor."
His dormmate Coo-Coo Chicken called out from nearby. Meow Shark slung the handsome old rifle over his shoulder, waved goodbye to the old nun, then returned to his dormmate beneath her watchful, blessing gaze.
"What's with you? You look like someone kicked you in the balls."
Coo-Coo Chicken was wolfing down a grilled fish, shooting his dormmate a strange look. Meow Shark shrugged and told him what had just happened.
"Oh, that's all?