Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 118: Dreams

TL: Etude

Allen Allen wake up already

A gentle voice echoed in the boys ear.

You lazy little thing, the suns already shining on your bottom

Twelve-year-old Allen turned over in bed, muttering, Mom, just let me sleep a little longer

Sigh! I really cant deal with you. Loving to sleep in like this, no girl will like you in the future.

Mmm got it Mom, just a little longer The boy drifted back into sleep, half-conscious.

After an unknown amount of time, he felt his mother gently shaking his body, saying with a slightly stern tone, You must get up now!

Reluctantly leaving his dreams, Allen opened his eyes to see his mother with her hands on her hips, her expression slightly annoyed.

He climbed out of bed, covering his mouth with his right hand, yawning, Ah

Alright, alright, Im getting up.

He started dressing slowly and unwillingly.

His mother sighed and complained, Really, look at little Tom next door. He gets up at dawn to help his mom cook, unlike you who loves to sleep in Wait, whats this on your body?

Allen suddenly woke up and hurriedly said, Its nothing Ah, I just fell down accidentally.

But without listening, his mother grabbed the boys arm, rolling up his undershirt, revealing several bruises on his body.

Her face instantly turned to one of heartache as she anxiously asked, What happened How did you get these?

The boy tried to sound nonchalant, Its really nothing, Mom. I tripped going downhill yesterday and rolled all the way down. Thats how I got these bruises.

But his mother could tell when her son was lying. She stared into his eyes and asked sternly, Did you get into a fight again?

I didnt The boy quickly retorted, but his voice faded away as he met his mothers gaze.

He lowered his head, admitting softly, Im sorry Mom, I wont do it again.

Allens mother looked at him, her eyes filled with deep sorrow, not pressing further why he fought. She knew the reason.

Allen was not only kind-hearted but also unusually tolerant for his age, rarely getting into arguments.

The only thing that could drive him to physical confrontation was when someone mocked his only family member, his mother.

Allens father had passed away early, even before he was born, leaving him a posthumous child. His mother, a young widow, chose not to remarry, raising her son single-handedly. Despite her caution, rumors inevitably circulated in the village.

While adults, out of neighborly consideration, only whispered behind her back, children, when playing together, had no such reservations. They often shared secrets they overheard from adults.

Not just during secret-sharing, but also during conflicts, children would resort to nicknames. For Allen, being called a bastard was one of the nicer ones.

These were the triggers for the young boys anger.

You promised me, remember? If something like this happens again, just let it go. Dont get hurt, his mother pleaded, her eyes moistening. She was inherently gentle and never wanted her son to resort to violence. He was her only family, and she wanted to avoid anything that might harm him.

The tears in his mothers eyes tugged at Allens heart. While wiping her eyes with his sleeve, he said, Mom, I promise you, this is the last time.

Sigh you always say its the last time.

Its all because of that Payne guy, spouting nonsense he heard somewhere. I just couldnt take it and fought with him. But weve made up now, you saw us coming home together yesterday.

The worry on his mothers face eased a bit. She suddenly hugged her son tightly, admonishing, If someone talks nonsense, just ignore them. Youre not allowed to fight anymore.

Alright, alright, Mom, Ive promised you.

I wonder if you really listened Anyway, go wash up and have breakfast.

The boy quickly washed up and sat down to eat the simple breakfast his mother had prepared. For some reason, he found it exceptionally delicious.

His mother joined him at the table, and they talked about their familys livelihood salt boiling.

The salt traders coming to our village have decreased lately, his mother said with a hint of worry.

The traders from Alda havent come for a long time, and those from Baylding are fewer than before.

Were earning much less money now.

Allen speculated, I heard a rumor at the blacksmiths. Apparently, Alda has built some new saltworks that can produce a lot of salt quickly.

Changing the topic, he said, Mom, dont worry. Ill soon become an official apprentice at the village blacksmith. He even praised my work. Ill start earning a wage, not much, but enough to help with our expenses.

His mother smiled and affectionately ruffled his hair, touched by his thoughtfulness and understanding of her struggles.

Blacksmithing isnt easy. You must learn well from the master.

After breakfast, as his mother cleaned up, Allen noticed something unusual. Normally, she would have started preparing for salt boiling by now.

If theres nothing else, Mom, Im going to help at the blacksmiths.

As he stood to leave, his mother suddenly held him back.

Allen, she softly called his name.

Apart from not fighting, dont forget my other admonitions.

Confused by her sudden seriousness, Allen still promised.

Then he heard her continue, Tell me, what have I always advised you?

Reluctantly, he listed:

Eat slowly and chew your food well.

Cover up well when sleeping.

Dont get into fights.

Uh, and get up early.

After he finished, his mother nodded and said, Remember these after I leave.

Shocked, Allen asked, Leave? Where are you going, Mom?

Then something terrifying happened. His mothers body became increasingly translucent, fading into a ghostly apparition.

He reached out to grasp her hand but caught only air.

Allen, Im sorry, I cant continue with you any longer. You must take good care of yourself from now on.

With those words, his mothers apparition completely vanished.

Stunned, Allen stood by the table, tears streaming down his face.

No

The boy suddenly opened his eyes, truly waking from his dream this time.

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