Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Cockatrice Hunt
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"Fuck, we've got jack shit to take. Hey, Kobson. Anything over there?"
"Just trash, it seems."
In the end, all we managed to grab from the nest were five cockatrice eggs bigger than ostrich eggs.
If these were fertilized and could hatch into chicks, selling them at the arena would be a goddamn jackpot. The arena always buys baby monsters or eggs at premium prices to raise them for the fights.
The arena itself was basically the city's hottest gambling den, so demand was always through the roof.
It stung like hell that these weren't mine. Might as well be unfertilized. Still, even unfertilized cockatrice eggs fetch a good price as magic reagents.
"Just eggs, huh."
"Such a shame, Barbarian."
High-rank adventurers really rake in the cash. My guts twisted with jealousy. I could bust my ass all day and barely make 30 coppers. Even if I slaved away here for ten years, I might not catch up to William's toe jam.
"Hup!"
William let out a weird grunt as he vigorously carved up the cockatrice corpse. Body parts from mid-sized monsters like these sold for decent coin. Especially the beak, chicken feet, neck bones, and feathers—demand outstripped supply for all of it.
They got used non-stop as magic materials or armor components. Even the feathers made great fletching for arrows. Nothing went to waste. And since cockatrices didn't show up around here much, we'd get top dollar.
I helped Kobson process the baby cockatrices I'd killed. These were mine fair and square—I'd taken them down myself. That was the adventurer's code and law. The boss cockatrice was all Winia and William, so they deserved the full reward.
But these two chicks? My kills. My loot. Selling just the beaks and feet should net me at least 10 coppers. Monster drops like these made kobolds look like pocket lint by comparison.
Speaking of, 10 coppers. Decent haul, but peanuts compared to the emotional labor I'd put in with Winia.
"Darky."
No, maybe it was a king's ransom.
"Yeah?"
"Sing a song."
"What? The fuck why should I sing?"
"Job's done, right? Time to sing and wrap it up with a bang!"
To an E-rank scrub like me, it was worthless anyway...
Winia suddenly decided I had to sing for some reason. Barracks bullshit like this was dying out even in the military, making this some real archaic nonsense. She demanded it like it was nothing.
"And you swore at me? Did you just curse at me? Has our little darky lost his mind?"
"Gah! Ack! Stop!"
"Sing or no?"
"Aaaah! Hey! Quit it!"
Winia snuck up and started whacking me with her staff, laughing her ass off. I panicked, tripped while running, and face-planted in the mud. She gleefully beat on my sprawled form some more.
"Kyahahaha! What're you doing, darky?!"
"Ow! I'll sing! I'll sing! Just stop hitting!"
My screams finally got her to halt the assault.
Swallowing my hatred, I brushed myself off and stood. I itched to deliver some righteous justice to this bitch, but nah, impossible. You can't beat a mage. She'd firebolt you in a second. Even ambushes had to pick your target carefully.
Mages were combat pros. Smart as hell, they were basically a warrior race built for battle. Messing with one? Suicide unless you were hot shit.
"Fuckin' hell... Fine, you want a song? Here you go."
"What'd you say?"
"Ahem!"
A song, huh.
Thinking about it, I hadn't sung jack shit since coming here.
No karaoke joints, no cash, no buddies—couldn't even drunkenly belt one out at a tavern. And with no fun in life, singing was a pipe dream.
Last time I sang... Hell, I couldn't even remember.
I cleared my throat and prepped.
"Here goes?"
"Hurry up!"
Alright. Time for a blast from the past.
I poured my soul into it.
"Shall we go to Jongnooo? Myeongdong perhaps...? Or just head to Cheongnyangni!"
Sul Wondo's "Compass" hit me right in the nostalgia.
Ahh, sweet Hell Joseon. That scorching hellhole felt like mom's warm womb now.
I loved this song. Jongno, Myeongdong, Cheongnyangri—pick any and go. Perfection.
Swords and magic world? Fuck that noise. Isekai sucks. Home's always best.
"...What the actual fuck was that garbage?"
Winia's critique of my soulful rendition. Rare sincerity in her swearing.
This fucking paypig wannabe.
"Tribal folk song."
"From some shit tribe. How'd you survive a hellhole like that, darky? Explains why you're so fucked up. Song was dogshit."
"Yeah, pretty fucked place."
Not as bad as here, though.
Apparently sick of my singing, Winia shooed me off. Felt happier than anything, which hurt worse than the bad review. Damn bitch.
"Pack it all up."
William had finished butchering sometime ago. I stuffed the loot into the big pack as ordered: severed heads, bones, feathers, chicken feet. Even split with Kobson, it filled up fast.
"Puffed up."
"Heavy."
Gear packed, back to town and done. Nailing a D+ quest meant smooth sailing for a bit.
Grab the cash, hit the booze? Or snag some gear. Gauntlets would make hunting way easier.
As we prepped to leave, Kobson and I argued over egg duty. Five eggs—someone got three. Neither wanted the short end, so rock-paper-scissors it was, till Winia shot it down. Made me carry them.
"Let's head back."
At William's word, we retraced our steps. No tracking needed, so faster than inbound, but the packs crushed us. Like marching with full kit. Stamina's king.
One regret: cockatrice meat. Tasted like chicken, probably. Wanted a bite.
But no butchering skills, and it'd spoil quick in this heat anyway.
"Our darky needs stamina training."
"Ugh, fuck. Shoulda worked on it sooner. This shit's brutal."
Sweating bullets, and Winia plops her staff on my pack too. Then clings, whining it's heavy. Bonus torture.
"Ah, quit it."
"What? Am I heavy, darky?"
Those tits look heavy.
"Nah. Not heavy."
"Right? I'm light, yeah? Super light?"
"So light I barely feel it. What do you even eat? This okay?"
"Darky. Keep bullshitting?"
"No bullshit! First woman this light ever! Like a feather!"
"Darky?"
"Yeah?"
"Woman as light as you? How'd you know other women's weights?"
Winia went scary-serious.
"N-no, not like that. Figure of speech."
"Hmph... Fine. 'Light' saves you."
"Yay."
After that, she kept tripping me for laughs, yapping nonsense—pure physical and mental abuse. Finally staggered into town broken in body and soul.
Please, end this bullying. Seriously considering bailing to another city. Isekai newbie with little know-how—perfect chance to broaden horizons.
Ditching Winia? Big plus.
"Oh! Adventurers! Welcome back!"
"Easy now."
The old geezer at the entrance greeted us wildly. I dropped my pack and pulled out the cockatrice head as proof.
"Here."
"No way! That's him! The bastard that trashed our farm! Thank you! So much! What a relief!"
Gushing thanks again, he handed William a quest completion cert. Take it to the guild for payout.
Sun dipping—night soon.
We hustled to the cart. Pitch black by city arrival. Driver waited.
"Straight out."
"Aye!"
Onboard, sleep hit hard. Nap till arrival. Lounge in inn tomorrow.
"Good work today. Sell materials yourself? I'm bundling at guild. Can handle your shares too if you want."
"We barely did shit. Thanks if you do."
William shouldn't waste time hawking loot. Guild buys bulk for quests like this—pre-orders from smiths and shops since they knew it'd be cockatrices.
Our job: drop at guild.
"Barbarian Zack. Not bad. Thanks for the assist earlier."
"Yeah. Without me, you'd be bird food, asshole."
That punk cornered by two chicks? Hilarious. Kobson thanked me.
"Nah, wasn't much..."
"True, blacky. Rolling like a pro."
"Fuck."
Still, solid guy. Adventuring's a shitshow—half trolls. Kobson? Reliable, even good.
"Got a party?"
"Fresh back, no... Why? Teaming up?"
"Yeah, occasional runs if we vibe. So many suckers out there. Last time, some psycho—fucked a simple quest hard."
"Kukuku... Guild kids gossiping? Your fault barbarians get side-eye?"
"Rumors that far?"
Bad rep at guild. Anyway, Kobson laughed and agreed. Good for future quests.
Mid-chat with Kobson, Winia butts in.
"Darky. Short answers to me, but chatty with friends? Can't I join? Or you hate me that much?"
"Huh? Uh?"
"See? See? I love darky tons, but betrayed. What now?"
Kobson, sensing vibe, fake-slept. Dick. I braced for doom, bullshitting to soothe her.
"Betrayed? Nah. You're it for me. Only real friend's you, Winia."
"Darky. Die."
"Sorry."
Pain till night. Winia dozed on my knee midway—fine, but "move and die" kept me kneeling till city. Bumps nearly killed me.
"Fuck... legs numb..."
Shitty life not enough? Now crippled legs? Why must weaklings suffer under the strong?? I'll succeed out of spite, fuckers.