Chapter 66
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: [Side Story] F-rank Adventurer Kim Katt
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I'm a bum, and I'm not protected by the law. As an unidentified Earthling, I've been treated unfairly time and again, not getting paid properly for my work, and even if they swindle me out of every last coin, it's not considered a bad thing to them at all. There's no morality. This world has no morals. And because of that, there's no reason, making it savage and barren. That's what this other world is like.
I always think that when I open my eyes, the same old morning will come as usual. That this is all an illusion, not reality, and someone will whisper that to me and pull me out of this dream. I hope that if I just huddle up and sink into despair, surely someone will extend a saving hand. Of course, someone will save me. Some good person out there will reach out to someone like me. Helping others is what people do. That's what I believed, and kept believing, right up to the end.
But there's no salvation.
Hell has no salvation.
That's why it's hell.
"Ah, fucking cold!"
Lena and Winia, those fucking bitches, didn't pay me, so tonight it's forced outdoor sleeping. Cold, hungry, body aching—every damn random thought floods my mind. The saddest part is there was nowhere to complain about my grievances.
The temperature's dropping, and since I didn't get paid, I can't even sleep in the stables tonight. I should have saved up for days like this, but I didn't have a single coin stashed away. If I'd gotten paid properly, I'd at least have a few coins in my pocket.
But how could that happen? Those little shits all pocketed my money. Is it a crime to have black hair? What? Barbarians can't understand human speech? Might as well say kings don't understand the hearts of men! I'd get the rebellion then! Fucking bitches. Someday I'll kill them all.
Anyway, outdoor sleeping it is. I decided to crawl into the sack that had held goblin heads until just a bit ago and try to sleep. This sack was the most valuable thing I owned. Picked it from the trash heap, but it could hold stuff, and in the cold, it worked like a sleeping bag. The constant bloodstains were a problem, but I'd gotten to the point where I didn't care anymore.
I grabbed the sack and found a suitable corner.
Even bums and the homeless have their codes and etiquette, so you can't invade someone else's territory. You have to think it through and act shrewdly. Otherwise, massacres can break out. A beggar dying on the street isn't a big deal, so no one cares.
This spot wasn't prime real estate—dark, damp, always pooled with water, so no one claimed it. This was my place. Even after switching from beggar to F-rank adventurer, nothing had really changed. F-rank or beggar, same thing. Real adventurers start at E-rank.
Exhausted, I closed my eyes. The chill seeped into my bones. Cold, hungry. Fucking awful. I had to suppress these negative emotions to sleep. The hardest task of the day.
Home, I want to go home.
Mom, my mother. Dad, my father. To that warm home, my hometown, I want to return.
My bones ached to the core. I missed my parents' faces, the city's smoggy air, greasy cheap fast food overflowing with oil. Now, even reaching out, I couldn't touch them, and they shimmered so brilliantly...
But there's nothing.
—Like the vision the little match girl saw.
There's nothing here.
Neither me nor there.
"..."
I was grateful for the accumulated fatigue. Drowsiness washed over me somehow. With the sleep came tears, and even the starlight seemed to understand, pouring down with me. Thanks, but don't sparkle—I'm going to sleep now.
"Status window."
Waking from sleep felt incredibly awkward, agonizing, horrific—like rising from the dead. Most people would be ecstatic after resurrection from death, but not me.
The sensations of the dead flesh lingered vividly. Like forcing a soul back into a forcibly killed body—pure discomfort.
I rose, feeling not like myself. I'd go mad. Lose it. Eyes open, still this other world. What the hell was the trigger? If some random condition got me here, there should be a similar way back.
But no.
With a depressed heart, I moved.
Destination: the city dump. Yesterday's hunting support and porter gigs were about forming parties in front of the Adventurer's Guild, but today I planned dump cleanup. The city constantly produced trash, and they always needed someone to haul it.
My throbbing nape from yesterday's beating made me avoid the guild, so my legs mercilessly headed to the dump. Pay was low, but no beatings. Of course, no guild achievements either...
"Lots of people..."
The dump resembled a pre-dawn labor market. Ragged workers like me milled about. Once the staff arrived, they'd pick and take us.
"Fuck, if only I could just eat breakfast."
No money.
As the sun rose, a neatly dressed, heavily bearded staffer emerged.
"Those working today, line up here."
Bums started lining up slyly. One, two, three. I took fourth spot shrewdly, looking at the pitiful trio ahead, thinking I'd work today.
We came to work, but not everyone could do it.
"You, missing an arm. Can't work like that."
"What? I can do this kinda job!"
"Yelling? Get lost, or I'll rip off the other arm too."
"...Kuh!"
The one-armed guy ahead got rejected. Poor bastard. Wonder what he eats, but that's it. In this world, I'm the one I worry about most. Anyway, grateful for my intact limbs this morning.
"Barbarian? Came to the city for a hard life. Built tough, you're hired."
"Thank you."
"Next."
And so I got the job.
We moved to the worksite with the selected group. It was literally a dump. City trash piled up, and trash like us gathered too. Nothing here wasn't trash.
"Whoa, fucking tons. Smells like shit, goddamn."
Our job: clear it out. First, haul city dump trash to the undeveloped outskirts beyond the walls. Krasheim bordered untamed lands, so they dumped like this.
I got a shovel and loaded a wheelbarrow. Pack it full, eye the overseer, wheel it out a small passage, dump, repeat.
"Hup!"
Rotten stench everywhere. Every damn thing discarded. Minus plastics, not much different from modern times. Magic Tower trash was the worst—rotting monster bits, unidentifiable stinks in heaps.
"Hoo!"
Fill the cart full, drag it. Couldn't slack off when possible. Caught slacking, no pay, just get out.
I worked diligently.
"Hey."
"I'll take this out and dump it."
The guard stopped me exiting the passage with tired eyes. He glanced at the cart formally. Didn't touch or get close—didn't want to inspect the stink.
He looked comfy. Someday, I wanna be a guard.
"Ah... fuck... this sucks..."
No breakfast, no lunch break. Energy draining. Sun high, sweltering, smells worsening. Worried about dying from toxic gas. Who knows. Maybe death sends me home.
"Fucking ridiculous."
Enduring the grind with endless shoveling, something caught my eye.
"Huh, this."
Curious, I dug it out by hand. A handle.
"Sword?"
Drip. Pulled from the heap: a rusty old shortsword. No sheath, discarded. Scrape the rust, might be usable, but I had no skills for that.
"Hm..."
Looked decent enough. Lots of rust but blade intact, no chips or breaks. Felt usable, so I pocketed it.
Having a weapon on my belt saves some face. Big difference unarmed vs. armed. Probably tetanus if stabbed, though.
Thought of stashing in my back sack, but belt seemed better. Found a strap nearby, wrapped my waist, hung the sword.
Anyway, time passed. From dawn to dusk, no breaks, hauling endless trash. Twilight settled.
"Laborers, over here."
Overseer called us. Counted heads, paid 3 coppers each. Emotion swelled holding the copper coins. That shit job for 3 coppers. But with this, I could eat, sleep under roof. Maybe even bathe once.
Who wouldn't tear up? Reeking head to toe, still felt good. If Lena and Winia paid the full 5 coppers yesterday, wouldn't be this bad.
Hatred surged.
Left the dump. Streets bustled with returning adventurers. Armored, fine swords—enviable. If I reached that level, no more misery.
I slunk along back alleys, intimidated.
"That beggar reeks."
"Isn't that a barbarian?"
"Huh? Yeah? Hey, come here."
But trouble found me again. Seeing two, I bolted full sprint without looking back. Mess up here, they'd take my hard-earned pay.