A Mysterious Guest in the Carriage
The village chief's house was old but remarkably tidy.
Though the walls were made of mud that should have shed dust everywhere, the lady of the house was so diligent that not a single speck of dirt could be found on the furniture. True to the owner of such a clean home, she kept her hair tied up tightly in a single bun, and though her clothes were worn, they were freshly washed and neatly presentable.
Dong-hee sat on the backless wooden chair the chief offered and took a sip of the mysterious tea his wife had brought out.
“Eup!”
The tea in the wooden cup was bitterly harsh.
Her tongue felt completely numb. Even knowing it was rude, Dong-hee involuntarily spat the tea onto the floor.
“Ugh, it's so bitter!”
“I-I'm sorry. This is all the tea we have left in the house.”
The chief's wife looked completely flustered and on the verge of tears. Dong-hee, still suffering from her numb tongue, couldn't lift her head and simply waved her hand to signal that it was all right.
Even then the chief's wife kept apologizing. The bitterness had stung all the way down her throat, filling her eyes with tears as she finally looked up.
“It's not that. It just didn't suit my taste. Something this bitter must be incredibly good for the body, right? Hahaha.”
She tossed in a lame joke to comfort the apologetic woman. It seemed to work; the wife's expression loosened up far more than before.
After the awkward laughter, an unmanageable silence stretched between them.
The chief continued watching Chloe with a face tangled in wariness and fear. His wife looked as if she were sitting on needles, and Nel and Bron—who had guided them here—were pacing outside the door like puppies that desperately needed to go out.
“Why would the lord come to such a shabby place as…”
The chief trailed off carefully, breaking the silence at last. Dong-hee set down the teacup she had been holding and stared straight at him.
His sunken cheeks framed eyes of an almost mystical clarity. It was a face that naturally inspired trust; she would have believed him even if he claimed peanut butter was made from fermented soybean paste.
“How much food is left in this village?”
Dong-hee asked, doing her best to hide the goodwill surging inside her.
“My lord, the villagers have been barely managing one meal a day. If you raise the taxes any further, the people of our village will die.”
The chief had jumped to conclusions from her question about remaining supplies and was pleading in terror. Even while shaking with fear, the courage he showed for his villagers looked admirable to Dong-hee.
“It's not about taxes.”
“Then…”
“How much food is left?”
Dong-hee looked him squarely in the eye and repeated the question.
“The truth is, the warehouse has been completely empty since yesterday.”
The chief answered in a voice that crawled like a criminal's. When he lowered his head, his thin nape stood out even more sharply.
I am the sinner. I am the sinner.
“I'll send grain to the village soon. That should last you a week.”
“Is that… really true?”
The chief, who had expected nothing, asked again in disbelief.
“That's as far as the free part goes. For the rest, work to earn money and buy the grain yourselves.”
“But this isn't the busy farming season, so finding work is difficult. If you could show just a little mercy…”
The chief's voice quickly shifted back into a pleading tone, unwilling to miss the chance.
“I'll be the one providing the work.”
Dong-hee examined the house interior once more. It had looked decent from outside, but a closer look revealed quite a few broken spots here and there.
“What sort of work do you mean?”
The chief could not understand what Dong-hee was saying. The lord he had known until now and the person sitting before him seemed like two entirely different people.
“We will maintain the village. We'll pave the roads and repair the houses so they can survive the winter. Of course, the territory will supply the necessary materials, and we'll pay fair daily wages to those who work. You'll hear the details from the butler.”
Having said her piece, Dong-hee rose from her seat feeling light, as though her business were finished.
“Butler.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“I'll leave one horse and several knights behind, so explain the details and then set off. I'm tired, so I'll head back first.”
Since bandits appeared frequently in the area, she left a few knights to protect him.
“Yes, understood.”
As Dong-hee left the chief's house, Handsome remained exactly as ordered and gave the bewildered villagers a detailed explanation of everything that had happened in Morta Village so far.
The villagers asked several times in disbelief before erupting into cheers. Voices thick with tears and relief, saying they were finally saved, rose from every direction.
The villagers' favorability has increased by 10.
The villagers' favorability has increased by 10.
As soon as Dong-hee sat down in the carriage, the ding, ding alarm rang nonstop in her ears.
The sound that had once felt welcome now repeated endlessly, becoming as irritating as the buzz of mosquito wings.
“It's so damn noisy I could die.”
Shall we switch to mute mode?
It was a welcome suggestion at the right moment. Dong-hee, exhausted, thought the service seemed unusually kind today and quickly nodded.
Switching alarm to mute mode. The mute switch costs 50p. Deducted points will be converted into mp index.
“Hey!”
She shouted in belated regret, but the points had already been deducted.
Switching back to alarm mode will deduct an additional 50p. Would you like to proceed? The deducted points will likewise be converted into mp index.
Dong-hee clenched her jaw at the swindler-like status window's question. If she could actually see the thing in front of her, she would have grabbed it by the collar and shaken it violently.
“No. Keep it as is.”
Dong-hee engraved the word patience in her heart and barely managed to answer.
While glaring irritably at the status window, her eyes caught the word mp index that had been subtly bothering her for some time.
The mp index, which had sneaked into the bottom of the status window one day, had been slowly increasing bit by bit. Today it had outright stolen her points.
“What the hell is the mp index anyway? You've never asked me about it before. Why are you suddenly taking my points after stacking it up on your own? Wait! Are there a lot of people like me? Gasp! Is this some kind of pyramid scheme?”
At Dong-hee's sudden barrage of questions, the status window's text shook left and right for a moment, blurring before becoming clear again.
They were merely letters, yet Dong-hee got the distinct impression that the status window was flustered.
Are you curious about the mp index? You may view information on the mp index using the points you currently possess.
“How much?”
She would have been willing to pay around twenty or thirty p. That was how curious she was about the true nature of mp.
Until now the mp index had never directly harmed her when it increased, so she hadn't paid much attention. But if it was going to keep secretly siphoning off her points, she definitely needed to know. There was always the chance that a shortage of mp could prevent her from doing something important.
You only need to pay 100,000,000,000p.
“Get lost.”
The beggar is you, User.
“Not beggar—get lost.”
Oh, my mistake. Then I'll be going. Toodle-oo.
The status window casually displayed an outdated phrase and flickered teasingly before vanishing from sight.
“Why do I keep feeling like it's trying to stop me?”
It's your imagination.
The status window that had disappeared spat out the sentence quickly and vanished again. She still didn't know exactly what the mp index was, but it was clear the window didn't want her to find out.
“Ugh, it's so suspicious.”
Dong-hee grumbled and muttered for a long while afterward before she began to doze off.
Her head, which had been swaying back and forth, suddenly thumped against the carriage wall.
A blue status window shimmered into existence beside her, floating gently.
Crackle.
A faint static noise sounded, but it was swallowed by the rumble of the moving carriage and flowed away naturally.
After flickering unsteadily for a moment, the status window stabilized. The silver-haired man abruptly appeared from thin air and sat down in the seat beside Dong-hee.
A blue hourglass shape floated above the back of his hand and began to spin round and round.
The number had risen from 75 after adding the 50p stolen from Dong-hee.
As time passed, the numbers above the hourglass decreased rapidly.
-115
-114
The man stared quietly at the back of his hand, then turned his gaze to Dong-hee's sleeping profile. She had passed out as if she'd fainted.
This is the first time, isn't it?
Instead of answering the status window's question, the man gave a heavy nod.
Why can she be curious about the mp index? Is your magic failing?
The status window displayed the text rapidly. The man gazed calmly at the urgently appearing and disappearing letters before shifting his eyes back to Dong-hee.
Even during that time, the numbers on the hourglass above his hand continued to drop quickly.
“Maybe.”
Then does this mean there really is hope this time? That we can finally end this wretched life?
Once again the man said nothing and kept his mouth shut.
The status window flickered its text right in front of his eyes as if frustrated, but he remained motionless like a wax doll.
Until now, no one had ever grown curious about the mp index. Most users could not even see the words “mp index” on the status window, and the roughly ten users who had discovered it would suddenly find their thoughts blurring or lose the curiosity itself the moment they tried to learn more. It was all because of the magic the man had placed.
Yet this user had read the mp index without any trouble, become curious about what it was, and had even tried to pay points to find out.
What if the status window had not presented an absurd price? Just thinking about it was horrifying.
Are you planning to waste all the time given to you today simply watching the user?
38
37
The status window urged him in frustration, but the man did not stir. It was then.
The carriage wheel must have caught on something while racing along; the carriage jolted violently with a loud thud.
Thump!
The sound of Dong-hee's head, which had been leaning against the wall, striking it rang out.
“Ow!”
Startled awake, Dong-hee squeezed her eyes shut and clutched her throbbing head with both palms.
“Ouch. My head.”
“My lord, are you all right?”
The impact must have been loud; the coachman slowed the carriage and asked worriedly.
“Yeah. I'm fine. Just keep gooooiiing!”
As she turned her head this way and that, claiming she was fine, her eyes finally landed on the silver-haired man sitting right beside her.
Shocked beyond words, she pressed herself against the carriage wall and unconsciously let out a loud scream. At Dong-hee's shriek the speeding carriage slammed to a halt, and the nearby escorting knights came running at full speed.
“What is it!”
Red Bear flung the carriage door open with a face tight with tension. He held a sword that gleamed sharply, poised to attack at any second.
“Here! There's some man here!”
Dong-hee jumped to her feet and pointed at the seat beside her.
But the seat next to her was completely empty.
“Huh? There's no one here?”
“No! There definitely was! A man who looked exactly like a silver anchovy was sitting right next to me!”