I hadn't been planning to make a skincare product, not at first. It sounded ridiculous when I thought about it out loud — traveling to other worlds, storing away legendary items, then coming back here to make… moisturizer. But it was easy to set up, and I didn't want to take the time yet to start something more technological. Not exactly the kind of heroic venture people dream about. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Plus, I knew the lengths people — especially women — would go to stay beautiful and youthful. Billionaires would pay a fortune to live even a few years longer.
The Fountain of Youth was powerful, yes, but way too obvious if used without limits. An ounce of undiluted water could roll back years in seconds, repairing damage, reversing time. Too much, and it could draw too much attention. I didn't want people to change too rapidly. If I suddenly handed my grandfather a vial that turned him thirty again, my whole life would collapse under the weight of government labs and endless questions I didn't want to deal with yet.
So I experimented. I'd stored several containers of the Fountain's water in my inventory while I had the chance, siphoning it into unmarked glass vials before sealing them away. Then I bought several cases of high-end moisturizer cream from a department store and began mixing. Drop by drop, diluted, tested again and again.
The results were clear. Mixed in low amounts, the Fountain's effect slowed, but didn't stop. It caused cells to repair themselves gradually. Wrinkles softened. Liver spots lightened. A week of use made the skin look healthier, younger. It was believable, subtle — miraculous without being impossible.
The missing piece was the explanation. No one would accept "magic water from a hidden spring" as a patent submission. That's where the Konosuba plant came in. A small, leafy herb with bluish veins that grew like weeds outside Axel. I grabbed several armfuls and stuffed them into my inventory, later drying them and grinding them into powder. It smelled faintly herbal, sharp but pleasant. Perfect.
So that was my cover story. A "rare botanical extract," newly discovered and bioengineered for skincare. I would use all the typical buzzwords in skincare marketing, but my product would actually work. The public didn't need to know it wasn't from Earth. All they needed was results, and a story to believe.
That was how I came up with the cream. That was how I would build the company. And tonight, at my grandparents' birthday, I was going to let my family in on just enough of the truth.
The driveway was full when Aqua and I arrived at the party. Cars lined the curb, and light spilled from the windows in warm, golden squares. Even from outside, I could hear laughter, the faint noise of cousins chasing each other down hallways, my uncles and aunts laughing.
"You sure about this?" Aqua asked, tugging at the hem of her sweater. She'd chosen it herself — something oversized, sleeves hanging past her hands. It made her look more like a teenager than a goddess, though she wasn't able to hide that dynamite figure.
"They're going to love you," I said, locking the car.
She snorted. "Love me? Please. I'll probably trip over the table or say something stupid about how gross cabbages are. Then your mom will think I'm insane."
I smiled. "They'll think you're funny. Just remember not to let anything about you being a goddess or other worlds slip. For one, I'm not ready to explain all that to them yet, and I don't want them to think my new girlfriend is insane."
She gave me a side-eye. "I'll do my best to be careful. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but make sure I limit my alcohol… otherwise I might let something slip."
I looked at Aqua in slight shock. Her asking me to limit her alcohol intake… I could tell she was actually taking this seriously. I gave her a soft smile, squeezing her hand as we walked up the steps. "Trust me."
The door opened before I could knock. My mother's voice filled the entryway. "Ethan! You made it!" She pulled me into a quick hug, then glanced at Aqua. "And who's—" Her smile faltered just slightly. "Where's Sarah?"
I took a breath. "Mom, this is Aqua. Sarah and I decided to take a 'break.'" I mimed air quotes. "She needed space. I wanted to introduce you to Aqua… my new girlfriend."
There was a pause, but then Mom smiled warmly. "Well, welcome, Aqua. I'm surprised you managed to get someone so beautiful. And your blue hair somehow looks completely natural… I like it."
"Thanks, it's nice to meet you too!" Aqua blurted, giving a clumsy wave. "Your house smells like chicken. Good chicken. Uh… in a good way," she added nervously.
My mom blinked, then chuckled. "Thank you. Come in, both of you."
Inside, the living room was already crowded. Grandparents sat in their favorite armchairs, cousins sprawled across the rug, uncles and aunts trading stories at the dining table. The moment Aqua walked in, all eyes turned to her.
"Hey everyone, this is Aqua," I introduced, keeping my tone steady. "She's my new girlfriend."
The cousins exchanged glances, grins spreading. One of my uncles gave me a nudge and a wink. My grandmother smiled kindly at Aqua.
"It's so nice to meet you, dear," she said. Then, leaning closer, she whispered, "It's a good thing Ethan isn't bringing that Sarah girl here. I didn't want to say anything while they were together, but I always thought she was sort of a fake bitch."
Damn, Grandma, tell me how you really feel, I thought, hearing her perfectly with my enhanced hearing.
"Thanks," Aqua said, chuckling, looking slightly more relaxed. "Your decorations are so cute. And your curtains. And your hair looks… very shiny."
There was a ripple of laughter through the room. Instead of making things awkward, Aqua's bluntness seemed to break the ice. Within minutes, she was chatting with cousins about weird internet trends, making my uncle laugh so hard he had to wipe his eyes. She wasn't elegant, not polished like Sarah had been. But she was genuine, and the family liked her for it.
Shortly after, my sisters rounded the corner, noticing us. Running at me, they pulled me into a hug. "Brother, we missed you so much!"
I laughed, holding both of them close. "It's good to see you guys too."
The time soon came for giving gifts.
Later, after cake and candles, I stood up with a small box in my hand. "I brought something for you," I said, handing it to my grandfather.
He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have to, Ethan."
"Just try it," I said.
Inside was a sleek jar with a minimalist label. My grandfather unscrewed the lid, sniffed, and made a face. "Smells like herbs."
"Rub a little on the back of your hand," I suggested.
"Heh, Ethan, I think lotion would be a present your grandma might appreciate more, but I'll give it a try," he said, shrugging as he did what I asked. Nothing happened immediately. He flexed his fingers, gave me a skeptical look. But then my grandmother leaned in.
"Wait," she murmured. "Look—your skin. It looks smoother already."
He frowned, examining it closer. The change was faint but noticeable — the lines of his skin softened, a small age spot lightened.
"It works slowly," I explained, as the others crowded closer. "With daily use, wrinkles fade, liver spots disappear, and skin starts to look younger and healthier. It's not instant, but consistent. With several weeks of use, you might be surprised by how much younger you both look and feel."
"That's incredible!" one of my uncles said in an impressed tone.
I smiled. "I've been working on this quietly for a while. It's based on a plant extract I found when traveling abroad. Not something you'll see in any normal product here. I'm setting up a company, filing patents. This is just the first formula. I wanted you two to be the first to try it."
My grandmother touched her husband's hand again, astonished. "Ethan… this is remarkable."
My father leaned back, crossing his arms, but his expression was proud. "Secretive as ever. You could have told us."
"I wanted to be sure it worked first," I said honestly.
My mom's smile softened. "I'm proud of you."
The rest of the evening blurred with chatter. My aunts wanted to know how much the cream would cost. My cousins wanted to know if it worked on acne. My sisters were being extra nice to me. My grandparents beamed at me like I'd already made it big.
Aqua, meanwhile, had charmed nearly everyone. She'd spilled soda on her lap at one point, swore loudly before realizing, then looked up as someone began laughing so hard everyone else joined in. My grandmother took her hand at one point and said, "You're funny. Good for him."
By the time we were getting ready to leave, the warmth in the room was undeniable.
The Neuralizer
I had prepared this earlier, pulling it straight from the Men in Black movie. I needed a way to get my family to keep the talismans on them without explaining what they actually did. It took me a while, but I eventually landed on this method.
At the door, as Aqua and I slipped on our coats, I glanced back at my family. They were holding little trinkets I'd given out earlier — keychains, pendants, bracelets. To them, they were just keepsakes. To me, they were the Dog and Horse talismans, carefully disguised.
I put on my sunglasses. "One more picture," I said casually, pulling out the Neuralizer.
A flash filled the room. They blinked, dazed, laughter resuming a moment later. Their memories of the cream, my company plans, Aqua — all intact. But the memory of how they'd received those charms slipped neatly away, rewritten as something natural, unremarkable.
In their minds, they'd always had them. Little sentimental things they'd never part with. And beneath the surface, a quiet compulsion now tugged at their thoughts: keep it with you, always.
As we drove away, Aqua stretched in the passenger seat. "So… they liked me?"
I smirked. "They loved you."
She grinned. "Even when I spilled soda on myself?"
"Especially then."
She leaned back. "And the charms?"
"They'll never question them," I said. "They'll keep them close without even knowing why. It'll protect them from accidents, from illness. That's enough for me."
Aqua reached over and squeezed my hand. "You're ridiculous," she said softly.
"Maybe," I admitted. "But at least now, I know they're safe."
For the first time all night, I let myself relax. My family was protected. The cream was ready. And the future was waiting.