Please Stop The Pope - Chapter 54

16 years old-- most boys would be falling in love, as their hormones all rise to unprecedented levels. Most boys at Riley's age would have dreams; dreams that will slowly grow into passion. Riley, however, at age 16... killed the world's number 1 superhero.

Unexpectedly arriving in a world where humans and Pokémon coexist in harmony, Natsume inherits an abandoned farm.With Pidgey soaring through the skies and Heracross resting under the shade of trees, the world’s vivid reality unfolds before him.But instead of aspiring to become a Pokémon Trainer, Natsume seems more inclined to embrace the life of a farmer.Natsume: “It’s decided. From today on, I’ll be a farmer.”However, as time goes on, Natsume starts to realize that his goals may have shifted just a little.“Champion Natsume, are you saying you originally just wanted to be a farmer?” a reporter asks earnestly.Natsume: “Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t entirely my choice?”

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.