Lewd Skill Stealing System-Chapter 5: The old woman’s daughter?

Karl flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders.

[You garbage. How does it feel to steal from a vulnerable woman?]

Karl blinked. "Vulnerable? You yourself fucking said it—her stats were higher than mine in everything. How the hell is she vulnerable?!"

[You, a guy, are stealing from a girl. You disgust me.]

"Are you implying women are weak?!" Karl shot back, crossing his arms.

[Absolutely not, you rat. You're the weak one.]

Karl clicked his tongue.

"Ughhhhh, whatever," Karl groaned, rubbing his temples as he stomped away from the bakery. "Moving on."

His eyes scanned the road ahead, feet lazily carrying him towards the outskirts of the village. "So, who's the goddess anyway?"

[No clue.]

"...Huh?"

[Matter of fact, I don't know anything about her. She just showed up one day, beat the absolute shit out of my long-gone master, and started ordering me around.]

Karl stopped mid-step. "Wait, wait, wait. So you're telling me... she didn't even create you?"

[Nope.]

"Then where the hell did you come from?"

[Probably existed longer than she did, honestly.]

Karl squinted. "That's... intriguing. But also incredibly suspicious."

[You're incredibly stupid, yet here we are.]

Karl sighed. He still didn't feel different. No sudden burst of energy, no overwhelming rush of power. He kicked a pebble on the road. "Yeah... 2% growth is basically nothing."

[Shocking revelation. 2% of zero is still zero.]

Karl clenched his fists. "Shut the fuck up for once."

[Make me.]

"One day, I swear—" He cut himself off as he reached the village's edge. A wooden fence surrounded the area, and a tall gate stood ahead, slightly ajar.

He started to look around for something, anything intriguing.

Karl's eyes locked onto an old woman hunched over a patch of wildflowers, her frail fingers plucking them with practiced ease. A perfect opportunity. With a swift shift in posture, he straightened his back, smoothed his clothes, and stepped forward, an exaggerated grin plastered across his face.

"Madam, is there anything I could assist you with?" he said, throwing in a dramatic bow, his voice laced with playful charm.

The old woman blinked at him, then let out a raspy chuckle. "Hahaha, Madam, you say? It's been decades since I've been called that! Feels nice on these old ears."

Karl mentally patted himself on the back. Step one: Flattery successful.

She turned, holding up a delicate-looking flower with deep purple petals and sharp, pointed edges. "I'm gathering these herbs for alchemy. Could use an extra pair of hands if you're offering."

"Of course! I live to serve, madam," Karl said with an exaggerated flourish, before kneeling beside her and grabbing a handful of the odd-looking plants. He turned one over in his fingers, his expression shifting into something between admiration and unease.

"Pretty," he murmured, then squinted. "But they've got... a dark vibe to them. You sure these aren't cursed or something?"

The old woman snorted. "Bah, superstitious nonsense! These are Spirit Roots. They may be weeds, but they're packed with mana. Alchemists like me use them as an energy source."

Karl raised an eyebrow. "Weeds that store mana? So what, you make magic potions out of them or something?"

She nodded sagely. "Among other things. Properly prepared, they can restore energy, enhance spells, or even—"

"Fascinating!" Karl interrupted, plucking more of the flowers while casually steering the conversation. "So, uh, do you work alone, or do you have, say... an apprentice?"

It was obvious Karl wanted to know if she had a daughter.

Karl's ears practically twitched at her words.

"Well, I do work with my daughter."

[Bingo.]

He barely contained his excitement, keeping his face perfectly neutral as he plucked another spirit root from the ground. This was a goldmine. A daughter meant potential skills. Potential skills meant more stats. He resisted the urge to grin like a madman. Instead, he nodded solemnly, pretending to be deeply invested in the conversation.

The old woman sighed, her voice taking on a melancholy tone. "She's the only one I have. My husband..." Her fingers clenched around the herbs. "He just left one day. Thought he found himself a better woman. Just packed up and disappeared."

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Karl froze mid-pluck.

This was... not the direction he wanted things to go. He glanced at her face, catching the flicker of sadness in her wrinkled features. Ah, shit. Sad old lady moment.

He had no idea how to deal with this. What was the right response here? A hug? A deep philosophical reflection? Cry with her?

Nope. Staying quiet seemed like the best option.

So he did.

But, while on the outside he kept a respectful silence, inside his mind was buzzing. He was way too focused on the more important detail—the daughter. This was the real takeaway. A skilled alchemist's daughter? She had to be talented. That meant stats. And stats meant power.

Still, he needed to keep the act up. With a deep inhale, Karl put on his most sympathetic expression and gently placed a hand over his chest. "Madam, you have nothing to worry about." His voice dripped with sincerity—Oscar-worthy sincerity. "A bad man like him doesn't deserve someone like you. I won't let you suffer alone."

He reached out and patted her frail shoulder, eyes glistening with totally genuine emotion.

"From now on," he said, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound dramatic, "I will take care of you."

The old woman stared at him for a long moment. Then—

"Hehehe," she chuckled, shaking her head. "You're quite the smooth talker, young man."

[What a smooth talker.]

Karl ignored it, keeping his warm smile in place.

The old woman grinned, finally standing up with her basket full of herbs. "Alright, alright. I'll be depending on you, then."