Watching Damian chat up people everywhere and stuff little cards into their hands, Pansy was a bit dazed.
No matter how she looked, Damian seemed like a salesman.
She took the chance to snatch one of the stiff paper cards Damian had shoved on a chubby, dopey-looking candidate nearby.
On it, in crooked handwriting, were a few baffling lines.
[Name: Damian]
[Occupation: Gravekeeper, physician, chef]
[Address: Sanctuary Graveyard]
[Contact: Shout "Damian" three times at the Sanctuary graveyard entrance]
At the signature line there was even a doodle of a little guy wearing only big trunks, with huge pecs.
"Is he… promoting himself?"
Pansy was utterly confused.
Damian's gentle, magnetic, refined voice suddenly reached her ear: "There's no money in being a gravekeeper, so building a network is important."
It was Damian speaking.
While Pansy was in a daze, he'd somehow looped around behind her.
She jumped.
Building a network is important?
Didn't Damian see people avoiding him like the plague? Even those who took a card quickly tossed it on the floor to be trampled. Plenty wore looks of disgust.
Well then!
Damian paid it no mind at all.
"Normally a gravekeeper can only stay in the graveyard and work. With a great opportunity like today, we can't waste it. Let's go."
He handed Pansy a stack of cards.
"Senior brother, what is this?"
Pansy didn't get it.
"You're so pretty, so cute, and your smile is so sweet—you've got ace sales vibes written all over you. You're the one who should be doing this."
With that, Damian gave her a gentle shove toward the crowd and reminded her with a grin: "Remember—smile, be enthusiastic, be flirty. If you haven't handed out every card before the Pope arrives, you're not eating today."
"Be flirty… for me?" (′._.｀)
Pansy's mouth twitched again.
For the sake of food, she could only wobble her little head, purse her lips, and go hand out cards.
Damian watched the little lady's every move from the shadows.
And wouldn't you know it—once Pansy did the handing out, no one refused. No one even tossed one on the ground.
Regardless of gender, anyone facing the adorable Pansy smiled, accepted a card in good conscience, and put it away—some even started chatting with her.
Damian even saw a thick-browed boy in a red tank top.
The thick-browed kid shamelessly asked for seven or eight cards, saying he'd give them to others later, cheeks pink with shy eagerness.
Typical lovestruck teen…
Wait, isn't that Seiya?
"Pandora's charm is no joke. She's just a little girl, yet she radiates some inexplicable pull. Is it that people have no immunity or defenses against a cute little girl, or is her charm stat just too high…"
Silently watching Pansy hand out cards, Damian was wary.
Just from handing out cards he could see her charm was innate. Coupled with a child's body, no one would likely suspect her in the least.
But this girl's trump cards wouldn't end there.
He wasn't idle either. Seizing the moment while Marin wasn't with Seiya, he walked up to the thick-browed boy.
"Seiya, did Marin teach you the Meteor Fist?"
Damian looked at Seiya's thick brows.
"H-How do you know… I can do the Meteor Fist?"
Seiya was baffled, eyeing the black-robed youth, unsure what to do.
He had only learned the basics of the Meteor Fist, and the only people who knew were him and Marin.
How did this guy know?
"Everybody knows Marin wants you to win the Pegasus Cloth, right?"
Damian patted the boy's shoulder. "Her teaching you the Meteor Fist stopped being a secret long ago."
Seiya blushed and shook his head at once. "I haven't thought about fighting for any Cloth yet. I can't say much. Are you… the Sanctuary's gravekeeper?"
"Yup. Want to buy a prime gravesite? Then let me see how your Meteor Fist looks."
Damian was interested.
A cockroach with a built-in protagonist's glow like Seiya certainly didn't need a grave.
But Damian didn't mind preparing one, just to do him a favor—and to figure out how this guy's Cosmo kept bursting endlessly.
Seiya flushed and waved his hands quickly.
This gravekeeper really liked talking to him, and Seiya enjoyed it too—he found the man interesting.
Unfortunately, their statuses differed. A gravekeeper was a menial in the Sanctuary, low in standing, while he, Seiya, was to become a Saint. He couldn't be too close.
"So young, and your class sense is already that strong. I'll teach you some manners another day," Damian muttered.
Saints are actually very particular about lineage—one master, one set of teachings.
Don't be fooled by the Meteor Fist being a Bronze Saint technique that hurls hundreds of punches per second. Not many ordinary Bronze Saints know it.
Seiya's Pegasus Meteor Fist grows stronger against stronger foes, pounding powerhouses into the ground, even going head-to-head with gods like Hades.
He needed to find time to see exactly how powerful the Pegasus Meteor Fist was.
Damian was also actually interested in the Pegasus Bronze Cloth.
Don't let the Bronze rank fool you—every generation's Pegasus Saint stays by Athena's side, her most loyal warrior, with a very unusual Cosmo.
After so many generations of Pegasus Saints warming it with their Cosmos, the Pegasus Cloth should differ from ordinary Cloths.
If he got the Pegasus Cloth and became the Pegasus Bronze Saint, he could be the protagonist, keep bursting Cosmo, and steamroll all opponents…
Better not!
He had a graveyard to grind for attributes and skills—it was better to quietly make a fortune.
There were too many powerhouses in the Saints' world. Better to live low-key—that was the path to quietly making a fortune.
"Hey, Seiya, don't bother with that guy. He's a worthless waste."
"Barely a few months in and he washed out. The guy's a cripple."
"Shaina's at least a Silver Saint—how could she take someone like him as a disciple?"
A few candidates ahead started trash-talking Damian, disdain plain on their faces and in their voices.
Damian chuckled. Since he'd given up being a Saint and become a black-robed gravekeeper, some saw him as a deserter.
He looked toward the source of the voices. Several people were flanking a towering giant who was stomping toward him, furious.
The giant reached the table, copper-bell eyes gleaming viciously, and snarled, "Damian, get up!"
"…Cassios."
Looking at the brute, Damian recognized him at once.
The kid didn't look friendly at all.
Did he take the wrong meds?
Thanks for reading!If you enjoyed the chapter, don't forget to drop a Power Stone and leave a review.Your support keeps the cosmos burning and helps me write more epic Saint Seiya battles!