Future Dreams (5)
The saying that hardship in youth is a blessing one should seek out is complete bullshit, but it does seem true that a higher pain threshold helps build stronger mental fortitude. That must be why Francesca could brush off our sewer scouting quest—the one that left me with hellish trauma—as nothing more than “one of the unpleasant memories from my life.” Meanwhile, I couldn’t believe I’d gone back to the sewers, a place I didn’t even want to look at for the time being. I could only marvel at her mental strength.
“Gwaaaaaaaaah…”
“Hiiiiiiiiiiii…”
But after Francesca was seen reeking of stench as a woman, and after my PTSD had flared up again, the two of us ended up showing a pathetic spectacle at the inn.
“What are you two doing?”
The innkeeper auntie sighed as she watched us making a racket at the entrance.
“Franc, I’ll let you use the bathroom, so go wash up.”
“Y-yes! Thank you! Mister Norde, please wait just a moment!”
Francesca hurriedly ran inside the inn. Did this inn offer bath services? No, she was probably just borrowing the auntie’s personal bathroom.
“And you’re Franc’s friend, right? Then wash her clothes for her. You don’t have anything else to do while you wait anyway.”
“Huh?”
It was an absurdly illogical request, but my mental energy had already been drained from recalling the rendezvous with the cockroaches. I couldn’t even refuse and ended up getting dragged along to do as the auntie ordered.
─Splash, splash.
And so there I was, in the middle of doing laundry.
“Ugh, it’s cold.”
The season was already late autumn, close to harvest time. The well water drawn from underground had grown icy. It was a terrible time of year for laundry. The item I’d been given was the gray robe Francesca favored. There were no undergarments or inner layers at all. I hadn’t held any strange expectations from the start, but the wave of self-loathing was unavoidable.
“Here, I brought some water from the stove.”
“Ah, thank you.”
The innkeeper’s husband brought me some heated water, which was a lifesaver. It was boiling hot. If I used it straight for laundry, by the time I finished my hands would have turned the water into a meat broth that soaked into the clothes. So I mixed the heated water with the cold well water to adjust the temperature. That was how precise temperature control was done in this world.
Sploosh─.
I scrubbed the poncho vigorously with laundry soap. The stench clinging to the fabric didn’t come out easily, so it was quite the struggle.
“Ugh…”
Fuck. I want to use Beast Regression. With that, laundry would be nothing. I’d even gain resistance to the cold, so I could have handled freezing water just fine. But I couldn’t use Beast Regression. Who knew what would happen to my dick again? Every time I used it, my dick kept getting bigger. At this rate it might exceed fifty centimeters and I’d have to wrap it around my waist like a Saiyan tail. The thought terrified me.
I imagined myself with a dick-belt wrapped around my waist and shuddered in fear. If I took a hit to the stomach in the middle of a fight, the dick I wore like a belt might snap right in the middle with a clean crack.
─Splash splash splash splash!!
I moved my hands faster to shake off the horrifying vision. When I first started the laundry I’d wondered why I was even doing this, but once I actually got into it, it wasn’t so bad. Moving my body kept random thoughts from surfacing. It reminded me of a friend who said he didn’t notice his hunger while working part-time during a diet.
Squuuueeeze….
I pressed the poncho firmly into the hot water with force.
Sploosh…. Plop.
But when I lifted the waterlogged poncho, I heard the sound of water moving from outside the washbasin as well. I blinked, still in the middle of scrubbing.
“Huh?”
“Kyaa?!”
A voice that reacted instantly to mine. It was Francesca.
“N-N-Norde?! Are you out there?!”
“Miss Francesca? Uh… was this the bathroom?”
The tremendous embarrassment in Francesca’s voice came through loud and clear. The sound was coming from a window in the wall. So the bathhouse was right next to the inn’s well? They must have figured that installing the water pipes near the well during construction would make carrying water easier. But because of that, I was suddenly in danger of being branded a fucking perverted peeping tom.
That’s why I quickly explained myself.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the bathroom was next to the well. The innkeeper auntie told me to wash Miss Francesca’s clothes, so I was doing laundry.”
“M-my clothes?! Why?!”
Yeah. I’d like to know too.
“Don’t worry. It’s not anything weird—just the outer coat. I’m pretty good at laundry, so you don’t have to worry about the clothes getting torn or damaged.”
I was once a 100% pure, unfiltered, natural-born slave. I’d done plenty of laundry. Come to think of it, the real start of my relationship with Dana was because of laundry too.
My fellow graduate student slave, Dana. That clumsy master’s student had accidentally put her underwear in the communal laundry. I’d been cursing—“Whose shameless auntie put her panties in here?”—when she found me. That was the beginning of our bond. She was unusually conscientious for someone from this other world. She couldn’t bring herself to blame me, but pretending to be calm was impossible for a pure virgin with messy purple hair who lacked experience with men. I still remembered her incoherent rambling clearly.
“No, that’s not it! I mean you don’t have to wash my laundry or anything, Mister Norde!”
The memory reel was cut off by Francesca’s scream-like voice.
“Ah, I see. It must feel unpleasant.”
A woman would naturally feel bad or embarrassed if a man she wasn’t very close to touched her clothes. I’d thought it was fine since the one who dumped the chore on me was another woman, the innkeeper auntie.
“It’s not that I feel bad or anything… I’m the one who should be sorry…”
“It doesn’t bother me. If you really don’t like me touching your clothes, just say so comfortably. But since I got free drinks from you, I’d like to at least do the laundry.”
“…Ugh. Alright. Then I’ll leave it to you.”
When I said that, Francesca eventually gave permission. Then she muttered in a small voice.
“Innkeeper auntie… why such a mean prank…”
She didn’t say it outright, but she seemed embarrassed after all. Should I move somewhere else? That seemed better. Having another man washing her clothes with only a wall and a window between them would make the atmosphere unbearably awkward. It would also make it difficult to ask for clothing repairs later.
“U-um, Mister Norde. What brought you here today?”
But Francesca spoke to me first. It seemed she was trying to somehow ease the awkward atmosphere. I half-rose in an awkward position, then sat back down.
“I have a favor to ask. I’ll pay properly—could you repair some clothes or a mask for me?”
“Huh? Oh, I think I can manage. I made a few as a hobby before.”
Could making clothes really be called a hobby? Sewing wasn’t an easy skill. As if anticipating my question, Francesca continued.
“I’ve jumped between all sorts of jobs since I was young. Thanks to that, I only picked up random skills.”
“Ah… you must have gone through a lot.”
There wasn’t much else to say. Other people’s hardships or misfortunes were difficult topics to respond to.
“Not at all. It’s all in the past. Back then I was desperate to work hard at anything and earn recognition. Actually, even after becoming an adventurer, it’s the same.”
“Yes, it seems so. You went on a request yesterday and again today, right? And to the sewers, of all places—the one that gave you quite the rough experience.”
“Yes. After we reported it, the adventurer guild and the guards carried out a large-scale extermination of Giant Roaches. This time the request was for the cleanup afterward.”
“Isn’t it hard? To be honest, after doing the previous two requests back-to-back, I’m pretty exhausted.”
In the sewers I’d been chased by an unexpected swarm of cockroaches, and in the ruins where I thought I’d just suck honey on night watch duty, I’d been tormented by those green brats and Nefertiti. Even the Beast Regression I thought would be helpful had turned into a malicious virus that caused bugs in my dick starting today.
Yet Francesca, who had suffered the same as me, had gone out to work again today as if nothing happened. I hadn’t shown my face at the guild because I planned to write my thesis, but if I hadn’t had that excuse, would I have gone out? Probably not. I likely would have rested for at least today.
“I’m fine. Maybe it’s because I have dwarf blood, but physical hardship is much easier on me than mental hardship. After a good night’s sleep, I’m back to normal.”
“Hehe. You’re much healthier and sturdier than me, both mentally and physically. You’ll be back to Bronze Class again soon, won’t you?”
“Hehe. That would be nice.”
Splash─.
The sound of water came as if Francesca had moved in the tub. She spoke in a bright voice.
“As for me, after I become Silver Class, I want to become a member of the Audumla Guild.”
“Pardon?”
Of all the jobs and guilds she could choose, why that one? I automatically recalled the pathetic misery of Jotso Dumra. No matter how you looked at the adventurer guild receptionist position, the work difficulty was pure hell despite any talk of future prospects or job security. Among companies that heavily exploited subcontractors, it was rare to find one that treated its own employees well. So I asked in utter astonishment.
“Um, what’s that. Since you’re doing it anyway, wouldn’t it be better to go in a direction that utilizes your dexterity and talents?”
Dwarves were also called the race of artisans. It was because their innate abilities were suited for crafting objects. Eyes that could read the temperature of materials and delicate, quick hand movements were perfect for blacksmithing. With patience and toughness on top of that, they were practically natural-born blacksmiths. In any industry, their potential for work that utilized manual dexterity was extremely high. Their aptitude for magic was similar to humans. Over ninety percent of the special equipment at Carmine University where I had been was the work of dwarves.
So there was no need to specifically choose an adventurer guild receptionist, was there? That was the meaning behind my question.
“…The artisan industry doesn’t like people without connections.”
Francesca answered while splashing water.
“It’s been nearly ten years since I left my hometown and wandered other lands, but everywhere I went I was labeled an outsider. Whether it was tailors or blacksmiths, they all treated me as a handy worker for odd jobs. They never taught me skills like they would an apprentice.”
“…It’s discrimination based on origin. There are many regions in Britannia that are exclusive toward outsiders.”
“Yes. It seems so. Actually, it’s probably the same anywhere.”
“I understand. I’ve experienced it myself.”
I felt pity for Francesca beyond my place. Me, who had been cursing the job she wanted to get as pathetic, a place to cut ties with. But I couldn’t help thinking that way. Because we were the very definition of fellow sufferers.
Francesca had lived while being tormented by trash people from this other world who had thrown away their conscience, just like that quack from the forge we met today. And I had been thrown into this damned other world, served a slave sentence without having committed any crime, and even had the thesis I spent three years writing stolen from me. Foreigners who left their hometowns and lived being exploited by someone in a strange land. That was exactly who we were.
“Hehe. So this time I’m challenging myself to become a guild member. Even if I fail again, if I keep working this hard, maybe someday I’ll find a new home~ That’s what I think.”
“A life of challenge is beautiful. I’ll cheer you on.”
“Thank you. Hearing you say that gives me strength.”
In realistic terms, my encouragement wouldn’t be any help to Francesca. But I knew that a small word of comfort and a smile could become great solace for someone living a hard life.
“Mister Norde, do you have a dream?”
At that moment Francesca asked in a cheerful voice. I stopped the hands that had been doing laundry.
“A dream, you say?”
My dream. If it was my dream, there was no need to even say it—it was finding a way to return to Earth. But that was hard to explain, and there was also the risk that my degree or past might be exposed. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Francesca, but it wasn’t a suitable topic for light conversation. Learning someone else’s secret you didn’t even want to know only created unnecessary burden.
“Hmm…”
“Ah, if you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to force yourself.”
“No. It’s not quite a dream, but I do have a goal.”
Besides finding a way home, there were several others. The immediate goal was to reset the illegal dick patch as top priority. But this was even harder to talk about than the original goal. Saying my dick had gotten bigger was already awkward, but wanting to return it to normal was, even to me, a ridiculously funny goal.
Then what else was there? Getting stronger by building power and raising my rank as an adventurer was also a goal. But that didn’t work as an answer to the question either. Most adventurers wanted to rank up. Answering like that was no different from being asked what your job is and replying that you make money.
“Really? What kind of dream?”
Francesca asked with anticipation. Maybe because we’d worked together these past few days, I could easily imagine what kind of expression she was making.
“Let’s see. My immediate goal is…”
The thing I absolutely had to do to return to Earth. Paradoxically, it was─
To obtain multiple wives.