Chapter 12
Chapter 12
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Preparation
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I stared at the coins clutched in my hand.
Nine silver coins. That was my entire fortune right now.
In copper coins, that came to 900. A whopping 225 times my initial investment.
Sure, it was a gamble with some wild odds, but hey, I had money in my pocket now.
I pondered where and how to invest this precious starting capital.
"You don't need to rush to pay off that tab just yet. Once you've got more breathing room, you can settle it then—no rush. Don't worry too much about it."
I'd planned to start by clearing the inn tab for meals and lodging that I'd run up on credit, but Diana smiled warmly and waved it off.
All I could do was bow my head in profound gratitude.
Thanks to her, food and shelter were off the worry list for the foreseeable future. That left clothing.
And she wasn't wrong—I had no spare underwear. Who packs extra undies for an isekai trip?
Days in the same pair had me feeling grimy as hell. It tanked my quality of life and wasn't exactly hygienic.
I figured I needed some decent underwear and a couple changes of tops and bottoms.
Assuming I'd scraped together the basics for getting by...
What else did I need for my future plans? For diving into the Labyrinth, what preparations were essential?
"So, to enter the Labyrinth, I need to get an explorer's license?"
"Yeah. More precisely, you need the ID badge they issue when you qualify. Not sure if it's still the case, but without it, the guards at the entrance will probably stop you cold."
Chatting with Diana yielded all sorts of useful info.
"Balkan, this is your first time in Labyrinth City, right?"
"Yes. How'd you know?"
I just said it straight. No lie there—it really was my first time.
"You had that look all newcomers from out of town get. Like when you see beastkin or demihumans and freeze up, and..."
Diana's soft, curved eyes turned toward my face.
Or more accurately, toward the helm I had pulled down over my head.
Then, as if realizing she'd been staring too openly, she flushed and quickly looked away.
"...Sorry. I didn't mean to poke at old wounds."
I had no idea what misconception she'd formed about my face to call it "poking at wounds," but...
Her demeanor toward me softened even more, so I let it slide without a word.
"It's fine. More importantly, how do I get an explorer's license?"
"The Union will hook you up if you pay the fee. As I recall... twenty silver coins?"
"Twenty silvers?!"
Damn. Twenty silvers was 2,000 coppers. Were the Explorer's Union folks money-grubbing maniacs?
Maybe my reaction was too raw, because Diana gazed at me steadily, then chuckled softly.
"Short on cash?"
"...Way short. In my current situation."
It was tight. Real tight.
Come to think of it, that'd always been my story. Money crushed me underfoot, always dragging me back by the ankles.
Eleven silvers. Without some freak gamble like this, it'd take a lone laborer months of nonstop grinding—no eating, no sleeping, just work—to scrape that together.
"In that case, how about working at my inn's tavern?"
"Pardon?"
Talk about out of left field.
"I'll pay you fairly, no skimping. Main duties are hall serving and cleanup. Shifts from when evening service starts till closing. I'll throw in dinner too. Try it for a day—if it's not for you, quit on the spot. I'll pay you for that day anyway. Sound good?"
Tavern gig. Never crossed my mind, even once. I'd only ever done raw physical labor.
Not selling my body, but grunt work like construction—that was my calling.
"I saw how you tidied up yesterday. Spotless. I've handled it solo till now, but having one more person would definitely boost efficiency."
Seeing me hesitate, Diana hurriedly added more.
With short-term gigs like this, payment reliability trumped workload.
If the boss dodged payday or nickel-and-dimed, murderous thoughts started creeping in.
One wage theft meant days or weeks of scraping by on scraps—that was reality.
In a world without labor boards, getting stiffed meant all your sweat for nothing.
Better to work for someone trustworthy.
"What's the exact pay?"
Diana silently held up two fingers.
"Two silvers a day?!"
"Oh, no...! Even I couldn't swing that... Twenty coppers instead."
"Hm..."
Average laborer made ten coppers a day.
Factoring in the job's demands and short peak-hour shifts, this was insanely good. Beyond good—absurdly generous.
Dinner included? For someone like me pinching every copper, it was perfect.
And who else in Labyrinth City would hire a total stranger like me?
Lucky if I didn't get shanked or sold off as a boy toy.
Decision was basically made.
"Hrmmm..."
Still, worth haggling once. I'd already decided, but played the deliberating part.
Diana's fingers didn't budge, though.
She knew her offer was already outrageously generous.
I fiddled with the helm on my head for a moment.
"...Mind if I work with the helm on?"
Insurance—just in case. Couldn't show my face to other customers.
Diana's expression turned pitying for a split second.
"Of course. If anyone gripes about it, tell me. I'll make sure they never set foot in my place."
"...And since I'm an aspiring explorer, if I end up going into the Labyrinth—"
"I'll give you the whole week off. Rest before and after is crucial."
"Can I start today? Boss."
No more second-guessing. Terms were too sweet.
"Heehee... 'Boss' sounds so stiff. Just call me Diana, nice and casual."
"Got it, Diana."
"Diana."
"...? Yes, Diana."
"...Fine."
Diana's cheeks puffed out a bit. Probably her boss side trying to buddy up with the new hire, but oh well.
'Honorifics slip out on reflex.'
She'd done so much for me, it was hard to treat her casually like a friend.
Plus, knowing she was some level-70 powerhouse made her warm, cozy vibe feel like the confidence of the strong.
Mature allure, maybe. That rich, full-bodied look—like fine wine or aged cheese—factored in big time.
She beckoned me gently, teasingly.
"Come on. I'll show you around the tavern first."
I followed Diana's waving hand and started learning the ropes.
After mastering the tasks and checking the time, it was around 3 PM. Two hours till evening rush.
Time to make the most of it. Clothes shopping first.
I headed to the market in Balerus's eastern district—the so-called Explorer's Ward—and scouted a decent clothing shop.
"Uh... sir, we don't have men's clothes in your size..."
The shop girl, who'd been eyeing me like a ghost, said it apologetically.
I clutched my head. Third shop saying the exact same thing.
Hard to complain, though. Walking the streets made it clear why big men's clothes were scarce.
'Nothing but anchovies out there.'
The few guys on the street? All scrawny and short, no matter where I looked.
It was so extreme they looked downright fragile, past just "slender."
Hadn't seen a single man with a build like mine since arriving.
'Those guys getting goblin-raped were the burliest around here?'
Memories of my arrival hit me. Five dudes brutalized by goblins.
Not a fond flashback, but those guys had decently solid frames in my memory.
'...Because they were explorers?'
I was half-convinced.
I wasn't just out for clothes.
Using the Status Window, I scanned street folk to gauge my own level.
'Skinny ones—probably civilians at Lv. 0. The healthier-looking ones have levels.'
Overwhelming majority of men at Lv. 0. Occasional Lv. 1 or 2 sprinkled in.
My level was 3 when I first checked the Status Window.
And that was after slaughtering dozens of goblins. Probably started at 0 like everyone.
'Kill monsters to level up?'
'Base stats at 10 randomized, and leveled folks get extras allocated.'
Guessing the system auto-distributes on level-up.
'No free points for them.'
Their Status Windows lacked a free points section.
Handy intel.
In a close fight I might tie or lose? Having free points let me exploit gaps.
Could also spec purely into needed stats, skipping junk.
"S-Sir...?"
The clerk's voice snapped me out of plotting my build.
"Ah, yeah. No exact fit? Gimme the biggest, sturdiest you've got."
"Y-Yes, sir...!"
No fashion options. I grabbed a black tee and slipped it on.
No private changing rooms in a medieval market. Just flung open the cloak and yanked it over.
Least try it on.
"Whoa. Holy shit..."
"Great Earth Mother Goddess, who provides our daily bread today—thank you. Thank you...!"
Wrong size, naturally—it hugged tight. Like self-handcuffing.
Wonder if corsets feel this way. Wanted it off ASAP.
Still, stretching the neck area under the helm made breathing tolerable.
Price of 24/7 helming.
Crack-crack-pop—
A flex to test movement, and seams burst everywhere.
My once-reliable muscles felt like a curse right now.
"......"
"Whoa. Pecs... huff."
Eye contact with the flustered clerk.
Ah. Should've shopped smarter for clothes.
Twenty-eight coppers got me two sturdy pairs of pants and six spare undies. Hit a couple more shops, but no luck on tees.
Upper body stayed bare under the wrapped cloak.
—Th-this is. S-service. Boss says female customers followed you in and sales spiked...
Couldn't follow the logic, but scored a free tee as a bonus.
It was the one I'd ripped, but hey—free was free. Lucky not to pay for damages.
Reasonable shopping done. Last of food/shelter/clothes sorted.
Now just grind like hell, save for that explorer badge.
After wolfing down Diana's hearty free dinner in my room, heading downstairs amid the early trickle of patrons, she said to me:
"Hmm... my advice? Even that ripped shirt would be better."
"Pardon?"
"Drunks don't see straight."
She stared at the front door with a wry smile.
'Hm... that kind of place?'
At the time, I was lowballing tavern work a bit.
I stared blankly at the trashed inn.
Overturned tables, scattered chairs, shattered plates, squashed food, sprawled oak barrels and beer mugs.
Glancing down: pants soaked in cowkin milk, beer, wine; cloak stretched, torn, and frayed all over.
Someone once said restaurants' real enemies aren't missed orders or serving flubs—it's the "hand scum."
"Diana."
"...Yeah."
"Diana."
"...I'm listening."
"I'm quitting this job."
"...Thirty coppers."
"Money won't hold me. I've made up my mind."
"Forty."
"Mind made up to stake my bones here. Order me around, Boss."
"A-anything...?!"
I sighed, grabbing broom and rag.