I'm just a father

After stepping out of the exchange shop, Adam's sharp senses picked up two sets of eyes lingering on him for too long.

At first glance, they appeared to be ordinary men, blending into the crowd with practiced ease. But Adam was no fool—he had seen that look before. Greed.

Greed was a disease, one that had turned countless men into monsters long before actual monsters had ever arrived. He had seen it topple kingdoms, start wars, and reduce entire civilizations to rubble.

He sighed internally. (Some things never change.)

Adam started walking at a steady pace, neither too fast nor too slow. His movements were deliberate—leading them, luring them. He was baiting the hunters.

The two men followed closely, thinking they had gone unnoticed.

One of them, a thin man with a scar across his cheek, whispered, "If we get that money, we'd be set for life."

The other, a bulky man with short hair, snickered. "And from the looks of it, the guy isn't even strong. Look at that old, beat-up armor. Clearly, he just got lucky in a Rift and found some treasure."

Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Their names were Han and Bam. Two petty criminals who preyed on lone Rankers that struck gold but weren't strong enough to protect it.

They thought they had found an easy target.

They had no idea they were already dead men walking.

---

A Perfect Plan

Adam led them into a narrow alleyway—a place where the streetlights barely reached, where few people would pass by.

As soon as he confirmed they were completely alone, he disappeared.

A gust of wind brushed past Han and Bam, and before they could even react—

BAM!

A mountain appeared behind them.

No. Not a mountain.

A man.

A towering shadow loomed over them, blocking their escape.

Then—darkness.

The two criminals collapsed like broken dolls before they even understood what happened.

Adam stood over their unconscious bodies, sighing. (Why is it always idiots that try to rob people?)

With the same efficiency he used to slay monsters, Adam tied them up with a rope, lifted them effortlessly, and threw them into a garbage dumpster.

Yes. The same one where the rotten food and discarded waste went.

He dusted off his hands.

"Perfect."

His son was too young to clean himself, and Adam had zero intention of doing it personally.

He looked at the two unconscious men inside the dumpster and nodded to himself.

(I just found the perfect people to clean my son's shit. Free slaves.)

A small, satisfied smile crept onto his lips.

With that, he left them there and moved on to his next task—shopping for his son.

---

A Father's Duty

Adam walked through the market, purchasing supplies.

Milk. (A baby needed food.)

Meat. (A father needed food.)

Other essentials. (He still wasn't sure what babies needed, but he'd figure it out.)

His next stop was a clothing store.

The moment he stepped inside, a young woman behind the counter greeted him warmly.

"Welcome! How may I help you today?"

Adam didn't waste words. "My son needs clothes."

The woman blinked in surprise.

Then, in one swift motion, Adam reached into his armor and pulled out the baby.

The woman's polite smile froze.

Her thoughts raced. (…Did he just pull a whole baby out of his armor??)

For a moment, she considered calling security, but the sheer confidence in Adam's posture made her hesitate.

She looked at the baby, then back at the giant of a man standing before her.

He was covered in steel hard muscle, wearing an old, worn-out armor that looked like it had been through centuries of war. And yet, here he was, casually pulling a baby out of his chest plate like it was the most normal thing in the world.

A deep internal conflict raged inside her.

Finally, she cleared her throat and asked hesitantly, "S-Sir… is this really your child? I mean… he doesn't really look like you."

Adam looked down at his son.

The baby was wrapped snugly in dry grass, with big round eyes staring curiously at the surroundings.

Did he look like Adam?

No. Not even a little.

Did that matter?

No. Not even a little.

With an unshakable voice filled with absolute confidence and pride, Adam declared—

"He is my son."

The woman swallowed hard.

Something about the way he said it made it feel undeniable.

Even if the baby looked nothing like him… even if logic said otherwise…

In that moment, there was no room for doubt.

The woman, still a bit dazed, finally nodded. "O-Okay! Let's get him some clothes."

She quickly led Adam to the baby section.

Adam followed her, looking at the tiny, colorful clothes with a frown.

Everything was soft. Everything was small.

He had never bought clothes in his entire life. His own armor was something he had crafted with his bare hands.

As he stood there, staring at baby-sized onesies with cartoon animals on them, he muttered, "…How do I pick?"

The woman hesitated before asking, "Do you want something cute?"

Adam paused.

His warrior instincts told him no.

But then he looked at his son, who was making baby noises while waving his tiny fists.

Adam sighed.

"…Give me the cutest one."

And so, a great warrior left the store carrying a bag full of soft, fluffy baby clothes, completely unaware of how ridiculous he looked.