Mike pushed open the door to his room with one hand while still holding the dwarf’s shoulder with the other.
"Sit," Mike said simply.
Gandolf’s body stiffened.
His eyes burned with fury—he clearly wanted to resist—but the slave seal forced him to obey.His legs moved on their own, and he sat on the chair near Mike’s desk, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.
Mike closed the door, leaned against it, and let out a breath.
"Relax," he said, dropping onto his bed. "I’m not going to hurt you."
Gandolf glared at him, unmoving.The hatred didn’t decrease even a bit.
To him, Mike was no different from the others—another greedy human wanting to use him, own him, drain him.
Mike raised an eyebrow.
"You can keep staring at me like that all day. But its not gonna help you"
"After all I am the perhaps only one that can solver your curse"
"Well, as long as you seems useful to me."
The dwarf blinked.
...He did not expect that.
Mike stretched lazily.
"Alright, since we’re stuck together until I fix your problem, let’s start with something simple."
He pointed at the dwarf.
"What’s your power level? And don’t lie. The seal will tell me."
Gandolf’s voice came out like a growl of stone grinding stone.
"...Level 203."
Mike whistled.
"For a dwarf who hasn’t forged anything in decades, that’s still pretty high."
Gandolf’s fists tightened, trembling slightly—even he wasn’t sure if it was rage or humiliation.
"I did not stop forging," he said through his teeth. "I destroyed everything I made. Every blade. Every hammer. Every scrap of metal that carried my curse."
Mike nodded calmly.
"Good. Means you’re not Evil. Makes the fixing part easier."
Gandolf’s eyes widened a little.
Fixing?
Did this child—this young human brat—actually say the word fix?
Mike leaned forward.
"Yeah. Fix. I bought you to use you—to make you forge for me!"
"But of course, before that, I need to solve your curse," Mike said.
"Can you really fix me? Fix my curse?" Gandolf asked.
"I can, but I am pretty weak right now. Your level is way higher than I thought. I need to level up a bit—reach above level 100—so that I can fix it without endangering myself," Mike murmured, rubbing his chin.
"So for now, just live around here until I level up," Mike said.
"You will... let me live freely from now on?" Gandolf asked once again, confused.
"At least until I fix your talent. After that, forge me some weapons," Mike nodded.
"If you solve my curse, I will create weapons for you and repay your deed until my last breath."
Mike waved his hand casually.
"Yeah, yeah. We’ll deal with the oath later. For now, just don’t cause trouble."
Gandolf stayed quiet, staring at the floor. His fists were still clenched, but the hatred in his eyes had shifted—no longer sharp like a blade, more confused, uncertain.
Mike tapped his fingers on his knee.
"Look, Gandolf. I didn’t buy you because I enjoy owning people. I bought you because your curse can be fixed, and you’re useful. Simple as that."
Gandolf slowly lifted his head.
"...Why help me at all? Humans only ever used me."
Mike shrugged.
"Because fixing your curse benefits me too. And honestly? I don’t like seeing someone stuck with something they didn’t deserve."
He grinned. "Makes me feel like a good guy or something."
Gandolf had no response.
His mouth opened, then closed again.
For the first time, he didn’t know what to say.
Mike stood up from the bed and stretched.
"You hungry?"
Gandolf blinked. "...What?"
"Food. You know, eating? Unless you dwarves live off anger alone."
Gandolf glared again but didn’t speak.
Mike rolled his eyes.
"I’ll take that as a yes. Come on. If you starve, you’re useless to me."
He headed toward the door, waving for the dwarf to follow.
Gandolf stood slowly, still stiff, still confused, still angry—but something in him had softened just a little.
Not trust. Not yet.
But the first crack in the wall had appeared.
As they stepped into the hallway, Mike added—
"Oh, and don’t worry about destroying things by accident. My mum is a peak Rank 2 Knight, so if you try to break anything, she might bash your head in."
Gandolf stiffened, unsure if Mike was joking or serious.
Mike guided him toward the living room, where his parents were sitting.
He explained everything quickly—how Gandolf was cursed, how the curse destroyed his creations, and how he planned to fix it. He also told them to treat Gandolf however they wanted, since he was harmless as long as Mike controlled the seal.
His dad scratched his chin.
"Hm. A cursed dwarf... I thought that was just an funny rumor. A idiot buying a cursed dwarf for 100 million credits... Wait—100 million? That was you?!"
Mike shrugged.
"Yeah, it was me. I got a lot of stuff from the Origin World, so I sold some. Well... I also prepared a surprise for mom, but I guess its no longer an Surprise."
He took out the Silver Mithril Knight Set.
"Here, Mom. This is for you."
His mom’s eyes widened as she touched the armor.
She also picked up the Silver Mithril Knight Sword.
"It’s legendary gear," she whispered.
"Yeah," Mike nodded.
"How?" she asked, still shocked.
"Told you—I got some good items. After all, the place I was spawned in was near an ancient ruin. I collected everything I could."
Mike smiled proudly.
"I sold some of the Knight sets, but I kept the best one—the Silver Mithril one—for you."
His mom hugged him tightly.
"Thank you."
"Hehe, what are you saying," Mike said, grinning. "This is the least I can do for you guys."
She hugged him even tighter and nodded.
"Finally, son, you are now a man," Aryan said with a proud smile. "Now give me mine."
Mike froze.
"...What?"
His father’s smile stiffened as he narrowed his eyes.
"Don’t tell me you forgot about your old man?"
"Oh—by the way, I have to go back to the Origin World," Mike blurted out, instantly trying to escape the conversation as he slipped out of his mom’s arms and rushed toward the stairs.
Before they could say another word, he was already halfway up, fleeing back to his room.