Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Preparation
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There are all sorts of troublemaking customers out there.
"Hey. You there, male. Come here for a sec."
"Wandering around the tavern dressed like that. A guy who's eager for some action is always welcome."
The first type of troublemaker: the lecherous kind.
These were the types whose heads were filled with nothing but men and sex—people I'd encountered plenty of times before.
Their main attack patterns included throwing blatant come-ons, grabbing clothes and yanking people closer, or pretending to be drunk and stumbling into an embrace.
Just like this.
"Huuuh... These abs... Insane... I could die happy now..."
The squirrel beastkin who had pretended to stumble drunkenly, hugged me tight, and groped my abs was now wide-eyed as Diana grabbed her by the collar and dragged her away.
"You're crazy. Boldly groping someone in the Cozy Winter Night inn..."
"But I totally get it a hundred—no, a thousand times over. I'm torn right now myself."
"Isn't that girl the real winner here...?"
People watched the scene with fear, but their eyes betrayed an unmistakable envy as they stared at the squirrel beastkin being hauled off.
No matter how scary Diana was, passing up a chance to fondle the stud right in front of them was a shame.
That's probably why these situations kept happening.
Diana was often stuck in the kitchen cooking.
And as an employee, I couldn't just smack customers around like nuns or beggars.
"You don't have to treat them like customers! If they touch you, just yell 'I don't like it, stop!' or call my name loud and clear."
"So, I can resist a bit forcefully?"
"...Huh? Y-yeah. Of course. But... won't that be tough?"
I understood Diana's concern. Most of the customers at her tavern were explorers.
The menu prices were higher than average, but the portions were generous and the food delicious, so the main clientele were people with some spare coin or adventurers.
In other words, most customers had a certain level of combat ability.
"It's fine. Most of them are worth tussling with anyway."
Now I had justification and permission, so I could fight back. Just give me an opening. I'd beat the crap out of them—
The second type of troublemaker: the drunkard. The most common and frequent variety.
"Sir. Ma'am. You can't squirt milk all over the place here. What a waste—it's spilling everywhere."
"Uuu... Boobies... Milky boobies..."
I'd help up cow beastkin who were completely wasted, milk leaking from their nipples in streams.
And...
"Krrraaaah— Krraaah—"
"Kyaack! Someone shut that harpy bastard up!"
...plug the mouths of harpy beastkin snoring at eardrum-shattering decibels and toss them out onto the street.
Those were just your standard drunks anywhere.
There were also dine-and-dashers, "hair in my food" types, and more varieties, but for a medieval setting without CCTV, their numbers were surprisingly low.
And the reason went without saying.
"I heard hair came out of my food... Is this the right table?"
"Yeah. These customers were causing a huge fuss."
It was because the level 70 final boss emerged from the kitchen.
"N-no! Nothing like that happened! Thank you, we'll enjoy it!"
"Good. Faces I haven't seen before. Dig in~"
The troublemakers, who looked like first-timers, paled the moment they sensed Diana's ominous aura and buried their faces in their plates to keep eating.
The regulars or those who knew Diana behaved themselves anyway, so no major issues arose.
Serving Diana's piping hot dishes and dealing with troublemakers flew by until closing time approached before I knew it.
But my real work started now.
"Jeez, what a mess. This crazy cow girl..."
Even with the doors wide open for ventilation, the faint milky stench lingered.
I'd tidy up scraps in between airing things out and do the dishes.
"...Balkan. Did you clear the plates I left here...?"
"Yes. They were separate, so I cleaned them up."
"...I-I see... Yeah... Got it..."
I'd eye Diana curiously as she deflated oddly.
Wipe the tables, polish the floors.
Still, cleaning was a hundred times more relaxing than handling creeps.
"Diana, I'll dump this trash real quick."
"Thanks. You remember where?"
"The alley next door, right? Be right back."
I left Diana preparing breakfast soup and headed to the back alley.
'Come to think of it, this is where Diana gave me that soup.'
It felt like just days ago, but back then was pure hell.
No one to trust, no money, starving...
Now? I was saving up decently, and thanks to warm kindness, I could eat three delicious meals a day.
It was no exaggeration to call it a giant leap forward.
As I breathed in the cool night air of the labyrinth city shrouded in darkness, reminiscing about the past...
"What the hell is that."
I spotted something clumped together in black far off.
Sensing my voice, the black lumps stirred noisily in the distance.
Soon.
Tadadak!
The black lumps sprang up and charged.
Straight at me.
The brief comfort and Diana's kindness had softened my vigilance—it snapped tight again.
"Stop right there, you bastards!"
I bellowed to alert the enemies and calmly reached for my waist.
The spot where I always kept my axe was empty now.
'Vigilance slipped that fast, huh. Damn.'
Even as I thought it, my eyes tracked the foes. Six of them.
I hurled the food scraps forward, clenched my fists, and assumed a guard stance.
Come on. Whoever you are—
"Gasp!"
"Food scraps! Food scraps!"
"Grab it quick!"
"...?"
They halted their charge at me, veered toward the scraps instead.
"R-roast beef...! A whole chunk!"
"That's mine! Gimme!"
"Gah! I-I found it first!"
The six dolls rummaged through the trash, bickering among themselves.
Their faces looked oddly familiar.
"You fucking bastards."
Familiar enough to curse outright.
The beggars, fixated on the trash, finally looked up from it and at me.
"Y-you're that guy from before...!"
"The crazy helmet dude!"
They recognized me too. Of course—the guy they tried to rape couldn't go unrecognized.
"I told you if I saw you punks again, you'd regret it."
I clenched my fists and stomped toward the beggars.
Perfect timing. I needed to vent after dealing with creeps all day. These rags would make fine punching bags.
"W-wait! W-we have something to say!"
"W-Wangcho!"
"Hold up!"
The lead one—what the beggars called Wangcho—stood tall with chest puffed out.
But as I approached, his posture hunched, until he was parallel to the ground by the time I reached him.
Artistic dogeza.
"Spare us, sir."
"You know you're in no position to beg?"
"...Sorry. We lost our minds back then. We haven't eaten a proper bite in days. We'll just take the scraps and go."
"W-Wangcho..."
Wangcho trembled as he spoke.
The beggar crew behind him stared with shaky eyes, then followed suit, bowing their heads to me.
"......"
I watched them silently. Still filthy and reeking, the wretched lot.
Behind them, the food scrap bag lay torn open like a stray cat had ravaged it.
'Just kill 'em! Guards don't care about worthless scum! Dogs won't even touch beggar corpses! You gonna let live the ones who tried to trample your dignity? Gotta watch your back forever! You really wanna get hit again after last time?'
The devil in my head raged. It casually urged murder, wanting even potential backstabbers eliminated.
The unpleasant truth: my mind was starting to agree.
What good in sparing them? They'd just kidnap and rape innocent guys another night to scrape by.
Killing them here was the smartest move.
"......"
I knew it was the answer. All too well.
But...
'Diana gave them soup too.'
Just like she did for me. No special reason. Pure goodwill.
After agonizing, I relaxed my grip.
"Live straight."
I murmured lowly.
"Don't forget the kindness in that soup you got last time. And don't forget—that's why I'm letting you go now. Keep it in your hearts and live right."
The beggars stared up at me blankly.
"No more raping innocents, no pickpocketing, no bad shit. Live properly. Got it? Answer."
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Good. Now grab that and scram."
The beggars nodded frantically, snatched the scrap bag, and scattered.
I wasn't saintly enough to offer free goodwill or help like Diana.
Nor kind enough to toss my hard-earned coin into their cans.
All I could give was one piece of advice and a single mercy.
"Back already? You're late today."
"Ran into some alley cats on the way."
"...Hmmm. Did you?"
"Yeah. They tried to claw me, so I talked them down and sent them off."
"Good work, Balkan. Closing was twice as fast thanks to you. Go rest. Oh, anything you want for breakfast tomorrow?"
"Anything from you tastes great, Diana."
"......Oh? Fufu..."
She was making breakfast anyway—least I could do was flatter. Her cooking really was amazing.
I left Diana, beaming and waving, wiped down, and hit the bed.
Tavern work wasn't physically taxing, but mentally draining.
Good news. Meant I could handle tough physical stuff during the day.
"One more month..."
In a month, I'd have 20 silver coins.
Prep for the labyrinth by then.
My first goal: adapt to inn-tavern work.
Day one, I was full of rookie mistakes.
Wearing the helmet naturally narrowed my field of view.
I bumped into people a lot, nearly dropped food tripping once or twice.
'This might actually be good training.'
Memorize table positions, scan positions and movements of crowds through the narrow slit, weave through the bustle to serve quickly.
Suddenly, I started vaguely sensing people even outside my vision—not just in front.
'Goblin fights were always hell in melees.'
Chaotic brawls where guarding myself was hard; countless times goblins struck from blind spots.
Honestly, without the helmet, I'd have died five more times.
Hone this sense, and I could prevent those situations.
Over weeks, focusing on spatial awareness cut collisions and errors sharply.
"Ehehe... Heek!"
Draw axe from belt and point—the lech sneaking up from behind yelped and backed off.
Worked on most troublemakers. Axes make great conversationalists.
"Heard about the big construction on labyrinth floor 1 next year?"
"That reclamation project? Total failure waiting to happen, if you ask me. Insane."
As vision issues cleared, I discovered the true perk of tavern work.
'I can gather info.'
Diana's inn drew crowds, mostly explorers.
Perfect timing—I lacked common knowledge. Eavesdropping let me pick up basics on the labyrinth and city gossip.
"...No way. Diana hired a male employee? For real?"
"Told you it's true a bunch of times. I was shocked too at first."
"What's gotten into that girl who's never even held a guy's hand..."
And after a month-plus of face time, more customers recognized me.
[Ge■■■ ■■ Lv.6■]
[■■■■■ ■■■ner Lv.7■]
Especially those two in the corner, faces masked.
They came late evenings sometimes, high levels, seemed close to Diana.
"I'll handle those two."
"But you're busy—I can—"
"I'll do it. Got it?"
"Yes."
Diana half-forcibly took their serving tray.
No matter how slammed the kitchen, she kept me away from even talking to them.
Didn't know why, but she wanted no contact between us.
I shrugged it off and focused on work. Not by choice—creeps forced it.
"Hey, no squirting milk against the wall!"
Over there—that cow beastkin bitch again—
"Good work today, Balkan."
I'd collapsed on a table after closing cleanup when Diana sat across with warm milk.
"...Thanks. Cheers."
Honestly, milk made me queasy now, but I chugged without showing it.
Jingle—
Head tilted back to drain it, then righted—coin pouch on the table.
"Your month's pay. More customers since you started, so a bonus."
"Thank you!"
I hugged the jingling pouch tight.
"...Not gonna count it?"
"Nah. It's from you."
I didn't haggle-count coins in front of her. Diana wasn't the type to cheat.
Chatted briefly as her touched expression faded to my weary head-clutch.
"Oops, held you too long. You look beat—go rest."
Nodded, bowed, headed upstairs.
Shhk!
Counted the money immediately in my room.
Fifteen silvers. With prior savings, twenty-four total!
I grinned and dove into bed.
Tomorrow, one step closer to my distant goal.