Jack was a pragmatist. Survival was on the top of his goals. He'd sell his left tentacle for survival. Maybe he wouldn't do anything disgusting like jumping into a sewer but anything else was on the table. So in accomplishing this goal, he leveled up, chose his skills carefully, especially his evolutions.
So the moment he heard: "Slime Evolution Theory", his eyes bulged. He would happily boil a part of himself for this woman.
"Grandma you have my undivided attention and body," Jack squeaked.
Solana's moss-green eyes twinkled. She was about to read what was on the scroll.
But Leena gently took the scroll and rolled it back up, placing it back in the pile, much to Jack's disappointment.
"Solana, this is important. I need you to verify that they are married," Leena pleaded. The stress in her shoulders was telling.
The runesmith sighed. "Marriage? Why would I care about such boring matters when I could study him?"
Leena slapped her forehead, "Solana please. Just once do what you're supposed to do."
This gave the grandma a pause. She studied her granddaughter's face, her expression softening.
She looked back at Jack and hopped to the corner, putting a kettle on a small stove that looked like a cluster of glowing mushrooms. Rummaging through one of her pants that were lying on the floor, she found a small, lumpy pouch and took out a single, dried blue berry.
"Come here my little specimen. I have a treat for you," Solana said in a baby-like voice.
Solana was wiggling the blue berry at him like he was a dog. It was demeaning and utterly humiliating. The temptation to slap that fruit away and demand to see the scroll was immense. But Jack of course hopped like a good boy.
He had learned in this new world to pick his battles. For example he would never fight the Slime Slayer, he'd run away with no shame and a ton of screaming.
Jack ate the berry.
[System has detected a magical rune. Its seems to be an Analysis rune designed to inspect every single stat of the user]
[Inspection Complete: Analysis Rune has been successfully integrated]
[New Skill unlocked: 'Analysis.' Allows host to get in-depth stats and knowledge about certain beings, skills, and evolutions.]
[Does the host wish to reveal all of his stats to Solana? Yes/No]
He quickly declined. That was a recipe for disaster.
Instead Jack tried to see if the skill was actually working. He looked at the orange-haired lady.
[Solana Fex Vatris]
[Level: 35]
[Class: Runesmith]
[Age: 60]
[Species: Flower Elf]
[Skills: Runecrafting Level 8, Potion Brewing Level 4, Enchanting Level 4, Core Fusion Level MAX, Flower Magic Level 4]
[HP: 400/400]
[Mana: 1000/1000]
[Strenght: 50]
[Inteligence: 1000]
Jack squirmed. Her intelligence was insane. Her 'Core Fusion' skill seemed weird too. It was the first max level he'd ever seen on Palma Dextra.
[Title: Outcasted Elf, Outcasted Runesmith]
The slime could belief she was an outcast. Her demeanor had the vibe of someone who spent more time talking to plants than people.
He was taken out of his thoughts when he felt Solana's stare. Her emerald eyes were sparkling.
"Did you just analyze me?" Her excitement was palpable. She leaned in so close Jack could see the tiny orange speckles in her irises.
"Please say yes," she begged, her hands clasped together in front of her.
"Maybe," Jack said coyly.
Leena coughed.
"Ahem, so the marriage. Can you confirm or deny it?" she repeated, tapping her foot on the wooden floorboards of the workshop.
Before Solana could answer, Jack saw the Ivy Spider from before staring at him. It seemed to be trying to communicate. Of course he didn't speak spider and spiders couldn't talk.
[It seems the spider wants the Host to free it.]
"You can translate?" Jack asked in his head.
[No, it is obvious that a caged creature wants to be freed. The analysis skill reads basic intent not complex thoughts.]
A loud slap echoed through the workshop. Leena had slapped the desk. "Please Solana, this is not about your research, this is a matter of life and death for them."
Her grandma glanced at Jack and his companions before answering, "Yes the slime has the title of Husband of Jeanne D'Amain."
With a relieved sigh, Leena grabbed Jack's cage and they left. The smell of old wood and wild flowers faded as the door closed behind them, leaving the mad elf to her research and a captive spider audience.
The silence that followed was broken by the faint rustle of leaves and distant elven songs.
Aria surprisingly asked a question.
"Leena are you not close with your grandmother?"
The hybrid's crimson eyes, usually narrowed into a predatory slit, had softened with genuine curiosity. Her gaze fixed on the advocate.
"No. She is not my grandmother. She is an outcast and the only reason she is even allowed in Vylara is because of her class," Leena replied, her tone carrying a heavy weight.
Jeanne chimed in, "Why did you take us to her then? I'm sure there has to be one other runesmith in the city."
Noticing Leena's footstep stutter for a brief second, Jack could see the conflict within the advocate's heart. Leena exhaled.
"My grandmother died as soon as my mother was born. This woman who calls herself my 'grandmother' is just... a runesmith used for verification processes in legal cases."
Her explanation came out strained, a story she had rehearsed many times, yet the wounds were still fresh underneath the words. They were returning to their house. As soon as they did, Jack was returned to his jar.
"This isn't right," he whined.
Jack started shaking the jar, wiggling and forming faces against the glass.
"You can't treat an intelligent, high-value specimen like this," he complained.
Leena took out her notepad and started scribbling again. The sight of it made Jack go silent. She adjusted her glasses and put on an air of professionalism again.
"Ms. Voss, I'm quite certain your asylum will be granted," she turned to Jeanne, "Mrs. D'Amain yours is a bit trickier but provided you disclose any information you have on the Rethian Church, it's also promising."
She started to pack her notepad in her brown linen bag.
"What about me?" Jack squeaked.
"Your situation," Leena tapped the jar with her pen, the clinking noise was like a jail cell door closing, "Is the most complex. You are an undocumented, sentient slime-hybrid with the capacity to enter marriage."
She paused, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, as if trying to find a legal precedent in the carved wooden beams above. "If anything I'll do my best to get you out of that jar."
After she finished packing, she grabbed her back and said, "Your court hearing is tomorrow morning at the ninth chime of the Sun-Bell. Rest well."
Then she was gone.