Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: 2. Orphan Gacha Probability Up Event
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Merchants naturally dislike their competitors. What if they're doing the exact same business right next door? It would be surprising if they got along well.
However, there's no need to inevitably clash with competitors. For example, by targeting different customer bases, colluding, or differentiating, coexistence is possible—and most merchants actually do just that.
But in the "orphanage" industry, things were different.
The reason went without saying: there simply weren't that many "orphans," the core of any orphanage.
"So that's why we're doing this, right? You get it?"
"Uh, yeah."
"I... get it."
"I've said it a million times, but if you screw up, it's over. Not because of the bastard who sent us here, but because the scum who brought us will beat us to death."
Late at night.
Tricksy and the four kids who had been assigned to share a room gathered together. Unlike their bright attitudes when they applied to come to the orphanage and up until they received guidance upon arrival, the children were now in a very serious and grave atmosphere.
It was only natural. After all, what they were doing right now was spying.
They, as orphans themselves, knew full well what would happen if they got caught.
"Remember? He promised that if we pull off this job... he'll let us go. So we just have to nail this one."
"...Hah, but Tricksy."
"Why all of a sudden?"
"Do you really think... that guy will let us go? For real?"
The uneasy question from one of the kids was so perfectly reasonable that even Tricksy was momentarily at a loss for words.
After all, the one they'd made the promise with was an "orphanage director."
Human scum. Devil. A farm owner who raised livestock called orphans.
It was the kind of promise that any passing orphan would scoff at—a deal with one of those infamous figures whispered about among orphans.
"...We have no choice but to believe him. If we try to run, we'll just get caught by his hunting dogs anyway."
"That's..."
"Don't even think about anything else. Just focus on the job. Act like normal, gather intel on the orphanage, steal stuff, and above all, trick the other orphans into coming to Happy Orphanage with us."
Happy Orphanage. The place where Tricksy and the kids had come from—and the one that had sent them to do this spying.
How nice it would be if it really lived up to its name. Tricksy cursed her younger self from years ago, who had fallen for the sweet lies.
"I've heard this orphanage only has five kids so far. What do you think that means?"
"It means... the orphanage director is exploiting them half to death."
"Poor things. If there were more orphans, at least the director's whippings and rage would be spread out. Think about it. Going to Happy Orphanage would actually be happier for them than staying here."
"...Yeah."
"Let's do it like always. Got it?"
"...But Tricksy."
"What now?"
"That stuff the orphanage director said... it's all lies, right?"
"Of course it is. Three meals a day? Snacks on top? Lies have to have some limit. Only suckers like us would fall for crap like that."
"But... we're lying in beds right now. Just like the director said."
Tricksy paused for a moment at the kid's words as they poked at the soft, fluffy bed in disbelief.
But soon, she narrowed her eyes fiercely and muttered through gritted teeth.
"Obvious. He's using these comfy beds to put the orphans at ease, then he'll pull some trick while we sleep. So no one sleep. We've stayed up plenty at Happy Orphanage, right? And this time it's for the job, so it'll be easier to tough it out."
"Got it."
"We've gone three days without sleep before..."
"St-still, the bed... it's so fluffy."
"Anyway, no sleeping, everyone. I'm gonna take a quick look around the orphanage. And especially you, Karen."
"............"
Amid the kids' quiet chatter.
At Tricksy's call, the red-haired girl—the only one who had stayed silent, seeming utterly uninterested in the conversation from the start—lifted her head.
Her eyes were so utterly vacant that even Tricksy, who had seen all sorts at Happy Orphanage, flinched instinctively.
"...Don't go lighting fires with your weird talk this time, got it?"
"What's the point of any of this?"
"Huh?"
"We're just gonna flail around empty-handed until we die anyway. Does any of this crap even matter? It's faster to just accept it and give up."
"You're saying that again. You can spout that nonsense your whole life. I'm gonna claw my way through somehow."
Tricksy, clearly fed up after hearing Karen's lines more than once or twice, headed for the door.
"Anyway, I'm heading out, so keep watch around...!?"
"What are you doing?"
Wh-what the hell?
Tricksy had opened the door to sneak out, but she froze as the door opened first from the other side. And standing there was the pink-haired girl she had seen earlier.
The girl named Laila, who had been standing next to the orphanage director.
She wasn't quite the longest-tenured kid here, but she was at least playing the role of the eldest.
Why had this girl opened the door and come in first? Tricksy, who thought herself experienced in pickpocketing and petty theft, was even more flustered.
"I asked what you're doing."
"Uh, well. This is."
"Are you maybe trying to go to the bathroom?"
"Uh, y-yeah. Bathroom, the bathroom..."
"The bathroom's at the end of the hall. So no need to go downstairs to the first floor or up to the third."
"R-right. I wouldn't even need to..."
"So here's one piece of advice."
In the late-night darkness, those eyes that strangely seemed to glow.
Laila fixed those eyes, brimming with a sticky emotion like they might drip down, right on Tricksy.
And whispered quietly but firmly.
"As long as you don't cause trouble, the director and the other kids will welcome you. Remember that."
Laila tried to close the door after saying her piece, but Tricksy stopped her without thinking.
It was an action driven by instinct over reason. Or more precisely, by fear.
"Wh-what about you?"
"............"
"If the director and other kids welcome us... what about you?"
Laila didn't answer the question.
She merely muttered softly to herself.
"Who knows? At least I see someone from my past in you, that's all."
"........."
"That's why I told you. Nothing more."
Creak.
The door closed after that.
Tricksy couldn't bring herself to open it and step out.
...If she did, she'd have to meet those eyes again.
"Director! Let me help!"
"No, uh. Laila? You're one of our orphanage kids, so you don't have to—"
"It's fine! I'm a temporary 'staff' member, after all!"
"'Temporary' staff, huh... Alright, lend a hand then."
"Yes!"
Tricksy pinched her own cheek without thinking. Even as vivid pain shot through her, she just stared blankly, unable to believe it.
Is that... the same girl from yesterday?
[That girl's not someone to mess with carelessly.]
Even in the worst back-alley slums or orphanages, there are types you just don't touch. The so-called poison types—those who cling obsessively to something with vicious tenacity.
Such orphans wouldn't let go of what they clung to, no matter how much the director whipped them, starved them for days, or tormented them. The more pain and suffering they felt, the fiercer their venomous determination to hold on.
That's why, naturally, they were capable of anything to protect what they clung to.
...Even harming or killing people.
[Better to stay as far away as possible.]
It was baffling that her object of obsession was human scum like an orphanage director, but Tricksy decided not to dwell on it. Trying to understand a madman's thought process was a waste of time.
That's why Tricksy's targets were the other orphans, excluding Laila.
[Four of them. A bit few, but that's the whole orphanage, so it'll shake them hard. That should satisfy the bastard. He'll grin about having more livestock.]
The core of spying wasn't intel gathering or theft. It was poaching orphans.
For an orphanage, the number of orphans directly tied to the director's income. That's why orphanage directors pulled out all the stops to increase their numbers. It wasn't for nothing that orphans banded together in the back alleys.
Of course, the resulting food shortages, malnutrition, constant illnesses, and lack of space from all those orphans were none of the directors' concern.
Among those methods, poaching from other orphanages was quite common. It wasn't even that hard.
[Just feed some sweet lies to kids already suffering.]
And the sweeter the lie, the better—as long as it wasn't ridiculously over-the-top, the minds of orphans groaning under exploitation and abuse, pushed to the brink, would spin up all sorts of hopes.
Then, escape together with the duped orphans, and done. They'd find out upon arriving at Happy Orphanage that it was all lies... but that was reality anyway.
There was no such thing as a happy orphanage in this world. It was simple common sense.
[That one's perfect.]
The youngest-looking boy, who seemed the most naive. It was still before breakfast, so she could approach naturally. Hiding her true intentions, Tricksy smiled and drew near, and the boy greeted her with a smile.
"Hi! You guys are the new kids, right? I'm Eric!"
"I'm Tricksy. But... you sound pretty cheerful."
"Of course! New kids are here!"
Well, yeah. More orphans meant the director's whippings would be spread thinner.
Eric looked genuinely happy. No visible scars on the outside, but probably covered in whip marks under his clothes.
Trembling with disgust at the thought of directors, Tricksy continued slyly and naturally.
"I see. Breakfast time soon, huh? I hope it's as good as at my old orphanage!"
"Your old orphanage?"
"Yeah, Happy Orphanage. Heard of it?"
"Oh, no. What's it like?"
Now, this was the moment.
"Don't freak out when you hear this. They give you... bread for breakfast!"
"Wow!"
"Even bread with just a little mold!"
"Wow... huh?"
What? Was that too weak? Still, way better than the usual rotten stuff, right?
Deciding to go all-in with the lies now, Tricksy amped up the exaggeration on purpose.
"Th-and they give you stuff to go with the bread!"
"R-really? Like what?"
"Water, no less! Don't freak out—it's not even muddy water! Clean water you can drink without getting sick!"
"...Not soup?"
"Huh? Soup?"
What the hell? Does this Eric kid have delusions of grandeur or something?
Bread with soup? That's director-level food, isn't it?
"Um, Eric? Looks like you don't get it—bread with soup is just in your dreams..."
"I-it's not a dream! I make the bread myself anyway!"
"Huh?"
"Breakfast should be ready by now—let's go! I'll show you!"
No way the first mark is a delusional nutcase? Should've noticed something off when he grinned so brightly at first sight.
Still, Tricksy decided to play along and sat at the table with a bored expression.
"...What is this?"
And before her.
Was freshly baked white bread and soup loaded with meat.
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