Volume 1 Chapter 10 Parasite
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
(You aren’t Larry, are you?)
Suddenly, a voice echoed inside my skull. A hallucination? Crap, have I finally cracked? Is this the onset of some isekai psychosis?
(What kind of reaction is that? I’m asking who you are, boy.)
The granny was staring at me, her eyes unblinking and piercing.
(Wait… what?)
Did I just “speak” in my head? The moment I thought it, the granny gave a small, knowing nod.
(Deep breaths. Get a grip, Sagara.) If I really think about it, the fact that I’ve been reincarnated at all is a massive deviation from the norm. It shouldn’t be that shocking to find out telepathy is a thing here.
(Ho? A “reincarnator,” is it? So you’re parasitizing young Larry? Well, you don’t seem like a villain, but you’re definitely lacking in the backbone department.)
She was really laying into me, but that mental voice was one hundred percent the granny’s cadence. Wait—hang on. I’d just accepted the “reincarnator” label, but I hadn’t even processed the “parasite” part yet. She’s calling me a leach? And she thinks I’m a spineless wimp? Is she literally reading my live mental feed right now?
”Too late for that. I’m starting the Heal².”
She definitely read me.
She shifted her gaze to my feet and held her hand out, but then she paused. The voice rang out in my head again, sharp and authoritative.
(Listen up. I’m going to flood the wound with Mana¹, but your own energy is acting like interference. Got it? I need you to channel the mana from your toes into my leg where we’re touching. And keep your mouth shut—don’t let the others realize what we’re doing.)
(Fine… I’ll give it a shot.)
I formed the words in my mind, and the granny gave a sharp, micro-nod.
Alright, visualization time. I closed my eyes and pictured the flow of mana, trying to mimic the patterns I’d seen in Larry’s muscle memories from his sparring sessions. As she held her hand over me, the mana began to coalesce like a thick mountain mist. I could feel her beginning to draw my own energy out through the point of contact between our legs.
Could a total amateur like me actually pull off mana manipulation? I focused every ounce of my will on the image of pushing my energy out from my toes and into her.
”Gah—!”
I instinctively recoiled from the searing pain, but she clamped down on my ankle with a grip of cold iron, forcing me back into place.
(Idiot! You’re flooding the circuit. Throttle it back!)
(I wish you’d just let Larry handle this part…)
I did as I was told, visualizing a smaller, steady stream of mana flowing into her leg.
(A little more than that.)
(But it hurts!)
(A man your age shouldn’t be so pathetic. Suck it up. A Heal isn’t doing its job if it doesn’t sting a little.)
”A little” was a massive understatement. This was my first time under the knife, so to speak, and I was terrified. I nudged the flow up, inch by agonizing inch. It felt exactly like the first time I tried to put in contact lenses—that visceral, biological rejection of a foreign object.
(Zero guts. More. Keep it coming.)
That prickling sensation I usually felt in my palms during sparring wasn’t happening here. Instead, it was blooming right in the raw meat of my wounds. No, it wasn’t a prickle—it was a slow, agonizing burn.
(Was it Teressa who taught you how to move your energy?)
(Yeah… she did.)
Apparently, the sweet spot for the mana flow was just a hair’s breadth past that “burn.” Looking down, I saw the mana—looking like wisps of white woodsmoke—spiraling into a vortex and diving into my scrapes.
Then, something incredible happened. Tiny white specks, like a sudden dusting of frost, began to settle over the raw flesh. They blanketed the wound, and after a moment, they seemed to melt away, revealing perfectly regenerated skin beneath. If I looked closely, the newly healed patch was a slightly different shade than the rest of my foot.
(Don’t get any ideas about trying to copy this by just watching.)
(Understood…)
(Mana has structures—polymers. What you and Teressa deal with are dimers: two particles bonded together. That stuff is everywhere, common as dirt. But for a proper Heal, you need at least a trimer. For deep punctures or jagged lacerations, we’re talking tetramers and pentamers.)
(So that “frost” on the wound… that’s the polymer?)
(Ho? So you aren’t a total lost cause. The mana for a Heal isn’t something you just suck out of the air like a Fireball. You have to expend your own refined energy. Trimers and tetramers don’t just hang around waiting to be used.)
She went on to explain that once you hit the trimer level, you have to deal with isomers. A trimer could be a linear chain or a circular triangle. Tetramers were even crazier: linear, Y-shaped, squares, tetrahedrons, or “triangles with a tail.” Each shape has a different biological effect. For surface wounds, you stick to linear chains, but for internal organ failure, you have to calculate the exact ratio of shapes to fix the damage.
(That’s high-level work. Backwater country healers like us can only handle linear chains. We’re basically just glorified first-aid kits.)
(An Elf who’s a ‘Master’ is only a low-level healer?)
(I said call me Master. And I’ve got no interest in being called an “granny” by some forty-year-old mid-life-crisis case.)
She was savage.
(Listen. Mana is versatile. Elves are born with massive reservoirs, sure. But all the horsepower in the world is useless if you don’t have the technique to drive it.)
(So you’re saying you’re a magic muscle-head, Master?)
”SON OF A—!”
The scream ripped out of me. Master kept a perfectly blank expression, but there was no doubt she’d just cranked the mana to max for a split second.
(Like I said: many ways to use mana. Some people are just better at the “sting” than others.)
(Fine. So, Master… what’s your actual specialty?)
(You were about to call me an “granny” again, weren’t you? Forget it. I’m not telling. If you’re so curious, try peeking into my head yourself.)
(Is that even possible?)
I tried to reach out, focusing my consciousness toward that prickly, ancient presence I could feel radiating from her.
Just as I was about to make contact, her presence vanished like a blown-out candle. I looked down and saw her lifting my foot with the hem of her robe.
(I really can’t stand men with too much intuition.)
She dropped my foot and scolded me through the mental link. (Wait… does this mean she can peek into people’s hearts or use telepathy when she’s sparring with my sister-in-law? I feel bad for Larry, but man, my heart is actually racing.)
(You really are a degenerate, aren’t you? Don’t get your hopes up; a novice like you couldn’t pull it off.)
(But I’m doing it with you right now, Master!)
Another sharp jolt of pain. It was like those psych experiments with rats and electric shocks. My brain was being conditioned to shut up.
(Exactly. I need to break you in like a stubborn horse while I’ve got you on the table.)
(Have mercy…)
(This “conversation” is just us resonating our mana. But if your target has low mana capacity, you can’t get a resonance going.)
(So telepathy is basically a tin-can telephone made of mana? Does that mean my voice can reach others if I try hard enough?)
(If the target’s mana is too thin, it’s like trying to shout into a vacuum.)
She shut me down with a cold, clinical finality.
(But look, this stuff goes deep. If you actually put in the work and sharpen your craft, maybe you’ll hear the faint whispers eventually.)
So it wasn’t a total dead end. That was a relief. Though, honestly, the thought of accidentally broadcasting my sleazy thoughts to my sister-in-law is a terrifying prospect.
While we were “talking,” the mist around my leg dissipated. She swapped to the other foot.
(By the way, can Heal actually fix internal diseases? Could it have stopped the plague?)
(Oh? You didn’t know? Not a single Royal died during the outbreak.)
In other words, high-level healers make the plague a non-issue. The world really is built on a “haves and have-nots” system.
(Master, can I ask one more thing?)
(I’m single.)
(Nobody asked about your dating life!)
Master flashed a cryptic, mischievous smile and spoke out loud, breaking the silence of the square.
”Larry, when do you hit your majority?”
”The third of next month, ma’am.”
I went back to the “good kid” act.
”The drill lasts until the fourth, huh? So the party’s after the ‘drilling.’ What’s the plan for your rite of passage ceremony?”
”I… uh, nobody’s mentioned it. My uncle said we’d celebrate after the ‘war’ is over.”
”Ho? Is that right? Well then… how about one night for one gold coin?”
I nearly choked on my own spit. This was the most blunt, realistic talk of a “rite of passage” I’d ever heard. Sure, I’d dropped my V-card decades ago in my past life, and technically Larry would be the one in the driver’s seat, but I couldn’t help but feel a little spark of excitement.
I glanced over at Emma. That small, doll-like face… that perfect, upturned nose… those lips… that pale, delicate neck… (I could have my way with a girl like that?) Man, being a teenager again has its perks.
The mental voice cut back in, cold as ice.
(What are you drooling for? For Emma, it’s two gold coins.)
(Wait, what?)
(I’m telling you I’ll give you the ‘Master’ discount for one. Plus, I want to get a good, long look at what’s going on inside you.)
(Wait—)
(Relax. I was the one who made a man out of your grandfather—the one you’re parasitizing.)
(Relax?! That is not a ‘relax’ kind of fact! That explains nothing!)
I tried to scrub the “granny” thoughts from my head before she could read them, and I just answered out loud that I’d “think about it.”
”That’s a good lad.”
Emma was staring at Master with a look that said (What on earth are you two talking about?) Her eyelashes were incredibly long—just like Teressa’s.
(Ho? You’ve got it that bad for Teressa, do you?)
Back to telepathy.
(What?! You read that too? Larry’s the one who’s obsessed with his sister-in-law, not me!)
(Don’t get your panties in a bunch. But wow… you’ve got a serious case of the feels.)
(Stop it. I’m Larry.)
Look, Teressa is basically the only woman I’ve seen up close in this world. I’ve seen Nico, sure, but only for a few minutes. If a woman is that beautiful, of course a guy is going to feel a spark. But having a middle-school crush at forty is just pathetic. I could feel my face getting hot.
(It’s not like Teressa is indifferent to you either. Not to the ‘middle-aged man,’ obviously, but to Larry.)
(You didn’t have to specify ‘not to the middle-aged man.’ I know that. Now I just feel hollow. So, Master… do you actually know something?)
(That’s a secret. If you’re so desperate to know, peek into her yourself.)
(You just told me it was impossible!)
She was definitely messing with me now.
(Why don’t you just man up and propose to her like Mar did? Even at two hundred years old, my heart did a little pitter-patter watching that.)
(No way…)
A proposal… no, shut up, the granny can hear me. I tried to go totally blank, staring at the treatment with an empty mind. One sheep… two sheep… by the one-hundred-and-second sheep, she was done.
”Alright, that’s that. Move along. Ed! Get over here.”
As I pulled my feet back, Master’s presence withdrew from my mind. I quickly reached out and touched her leg again.
(Wait! Can you cure Yutia?)
I’d almost forgotten the most important thing.
(What? You were counting sheep and you remembered that? Fine. Yutia is a neurological condition; it’s out of my league. A professor at the Magic Academy³ might be able to diagnose it, but I can’t promise a cure.)
(So if I get to the Magic Academy³, I might find a way?)
(Better than sitting around here, I suppose. Though, kid, your talent isn’t in research.)
(Talent? Do I actually have magic talent?)
(Should I say ‘you’ or ‘Larry’? You’ve got a spark, but you’re ‘Upper-Middle’ at best. Even with a master, you’re going to have to sweat for every drop of power.)
(Thanks, granny.)
”Call me Master.”
She’d reached her limit. I gave my thanks, and she roughly kicked my hand away from her leg.
The Magic Academy³. Larry’s memories only knew it as a high-level institution in the Royal Capital. The Capital… a place even Larry had never seen. Maybe the “Shinto Harem” is actually waiting for me there. Deployment had thrown a wrench in the works, but Teressa said she’d talk to my uncle about letting me go to school. A path was finally starting to emerge from the fog.
I pulled on my shoes behind the bench just as Village Head Johan was leaving the Tower. Nico was there, holding the heavy door open for him. I gave a quick nod to everyone left, bowed to Johan as we crossed paths, and ran over to help Nico.
Teressa and Nico were swamped with overtime, so I ate a lonely dinner and crawled into bed.
”Meeting Master was a godsend. The Royal Capital, huh?”
The future wasn’t exactly ‘bright’ yet, but knowing there was someone I could actually talk to—someone who knew what I was—made me feel lighter. And hey, even if the Academy is a long shot for someone with “Upper-Middle” talent, the Capital is huge. If I network, I can find a lead on Yutia’s condition. It looks like stroke recovery, and I can’t be the only one looking for an answer. And then… the Shinto Harem…
A thick, pleasant sleep pulled me under.
* * *
When Larry woke up, he felt a cold, jagged wrongness in his chest.
He had no memory of anything after sitting down on that bench yesterday. He didn’t know what had happened, but his body felt like it had been moving on its own. He went through the motions of his morning routine—the bathroom, the teeth, the water, the breakfast. But as he walked toward the square for the drills, a hidden drawer in the back of his mind suddenly creaked open.
The memories of the park bench, the conversation with Ferris, the talk of gold coins and rites of passage—all of it flooded in.
This wasn’t him. These memories belonged to the “reincarnator” living inside him like a tapeworm. A complete stranger. Some middle-aged man had just moved in, taken the wheel, and started flirting with his family and neighbors without his permission. What right did he have? Who did he think he was?
Larry’s fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.
(I won’t forgive you.)
—
Summary:
An elven healer named Ferris (addressed as Master) discovers the reincarnated soul parasitizing Larry’s body. They share a telepathic conversation while she treats his wounds using complex mana structures. The chapter ends with the real Larry awakening and realizing he is being possessed, sparking a deep resentment.
—
Trivia:
- Ferris is over 200 years old.
- Magic healing involves chemical-like polymers: dimers, trimers, and isomers.
- The Royal Family survived the plague because of high-level healers.
- Larry’s mana talent is rated as ‘Upper-Middle’.
- Telepathy requires mana resonance, making it harder with low-mana individuals
—
Character Insight:
Master (Ferris) shows a mix of blunt cynicism and mentor-like guidance, while the reincarnated soul (Sagara) displays a naive optimism about a ‘Shinto Harem’. Larry’s awakening introduces a major internal conflict, as he views the reincarnator as a parasite.
—
Lore And Worldbuilding Context:
The author uses molecular biology terms to ground the magic system in a pseudo-scientific logic.
—
Glossary:
Notes:
• Larry – 13‑year‑old third son of the Strock headman, reddish‑white skin, bronze eyes, curly bronze hair, faint Showa memories and minor fire magic. Inside his body lives a 40‑year‑old bachelor salaryman, backup heir of the Village Head’s house, analyzing tech gaps, conscripted, parasitized, crushing on his sister‑in‑law, doing chores despite quasi‑noble status.
• Sagara – The protagonist’s previous persona, a science-track student from Japan who remembers modern Earth history and technology.
• Teressa – The widow of Iffens and Larry’s sister-in-law. Currently serving as the deputy village head. Larry’s sister-in-law and widow of the deceased eldest brother. She has an infant daughter. Has blonde short hair and big chests, and big sister/motherly aura. Wears a wool jacket over her blouse, which its button almost split.
• Max – Uncle Klaus’s second son and Larry’s cousin.
• Tim – A 14‑year‑old village youth, the eldest son of the Dvorak family, has just ‘graduated’ into adulthood. With short dark hair, a lean build and thoughtful eyes, he recently traveled to the riverside town of Obernbach accompanied by his father.
• Ed – A local village youth and acquaintance of Larry’s.
• Emma – Beautiful slave girl with large black eyes, cold sorrowful expression, black hair in a bun, and a three‑colored crest on her forehead. She serves Ferris‑san, stays with her, and was present during a healing session, making her a potential candidate for Larry’s rite of passage.
• Nico – An elderly manservant with silver hair and a faded livery, dignified and trusted by the headman, revered by staff; and a stern young maid from the Village Head’s house, outspoken, protective of Teressa and Yutia, wielding authority over local children.
• Yutia – A servant girl with a hunched back and muscular abnormality, suffering a severe speech impediment and lingering muscle tension after a near‑fatal fever; she once served as lady’s maid to Teressa.
• Ferris – An Elf pharmacy owner over 200 years old who looks like she is in her 30s. She is a veteran healer. An Elven healer over two hundred years old. Claims to have known Larry’s grandfather.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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