Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Salaried Knight
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No woman had ever asked me how much I valued my day at.
I'd seen countless prostitutes offering up their own days for a price.
Having that kind of past made Aster seem all the more special to me.
I tilted my glass and answered slowly.
"Well, let's see... how much is my day worth?"
"I'm being more serious than anyone right now."
"Me too. I'm dead serious with anyone who wants to buy my time. No joking around."
Honestly, I'd built up a lot of fondness for Aster by now.
She always put my thoughts first, she was beautiful, overflowing with cuteness, and someone I could actually trust as a superior.
The fact that my heart was swaying after just a short time together and a few bumps in the road made me no better than a reed bending in the wind.
Having lived purely by following my whims, once my feelings started leaning one way, I couldn't control them.
The only worry was whether I'd grown too accustomed to wandering to ever settle down and feel affection for a stable life.
"I'm not the type who suits fine clothes."
I'd spent my days sheltering from the rain under a cheap bamboo hat woven from straw bundles—not even worth a single coin at the market.
And the clothes I wore? They were honestly little more than rags. I'd even used them as actual rags from time to time.
The two swords at my side were the newest things on me, I suppose.
Even those were just haphazard pickups after I lost my originals.
Hell, even the word "vintage" that merchants slapped on old junk to sell it would turn its nose up at me.
For a guy like that to suddenly trail after a noblewoman day in and day out?
Part of me did want to follow her a little.
But this was something Aster needed to think about more deeply.
"I prefer cheap booze you can buy for less than wine, and I learned fists before etiquette."
Boiling it down to one question.
"With all those eyes on you, can you really walk around with a guy like me?"
Nobles were mostly the type obsessed with honor—especially how shiny their possessions gleamed.
For Aster to drag a mud pile like me around among people with eyes fixed that high up?
It'd be the perfect excuse for them to devour her, and a reason no one would approach her side.
I knew all this from the countless plays about noble politics I'd seen in my past.
Just dress me up nice, you say?
I knew better. I'd dive into a barrel of booze headfirst and rip the clothes to shreds within a day.
I gazed deeply into Aster's bright, sparkling red eyes.
She blinked twice, then gave a simple answer to my question.
"Doesn't matter to me."
"Guh."
Choking on my drink like that was a rare sight for me.
What kind of guts did this girl have to say she'd take me along?
Aster shot back curtly instead.
"Only I know your worth right now, don't I? Makes it even better."
"Nobles have to care about how people look at them."
"I don't have friends anyway, and my family... not really..."
"Ah."
She went self-deprecating on me, and I had to shut my mouth.
A woman who looked like she received all the world's love coming out with that—I just blinked slowly and downed more booze.
Billion was shoving pineapples into his mouth like a madman.
He must have felt like he was watching the funniest drama in the world unfold before his eyes.
Aster ignored his gaze completely and kept talking.
"You're more special than you think. And I don't just mean your strength."
"......"
"Have you ever imagined what it's like to be a woman?"
She listed off all the humiliations a beautiful woman had to endure.
Men's eyes glued to her thighs, and how almost no one in the world looked only into her eyes.
It was strangely fascinating. Weren't a woman's eyes the second most beautiful part after her breasts?
Ah, can't deny instincts as a man. Breasts are breasts, after all.
But in my case, I'd been hardened against revealing clothes by prostitutes—sorry for mentioning them again, but anyway.
Now, I preferred pretty eyes over vulgar flesh.
And Aster seemed to like that about me a lot.
"You've only looked at my eyes from the start."
"'Cause they're pretty."
"Ah...... I mean, so you're... uh..."
I tilted my head at Aster, who was charging straight ahead only to suddenly stop mid-sentence.
I took the chance to swallow some booze, then realized my slip-up.
In the heavy silence that followed, I barely managed to squeeze in some words.
"You know I'm drunk, right? Just chalk it up to excessive honesty."
"Yeeeah..."
She seemed flustered by the broken rhythm but finally found her next words.
She cleared her throat, snatched one of the owner's special grilled pineapples, and said,
"You're different. Why would I worry about other idiots' eyes when I'm with someone like you?"
Someone great casts a halo on those around them, or so they say.
I'd always thought those guys were all con artists and punched them in the face, but now I felt sorry.
'They actually exist, people like that.'
She really was one cool woman.
All the women I knew obsessed over makeup and how to look good in others' eyes.
Aster thinking so differently made me lift the corner of my mouth for a moment.
My drunken smile probably wasn't visible.
So she missed the subtle change and asked seriously again.
"So, mister, how much per day? I can just buy you every day."
"You got the money?"
"I'll earn a day with you to live the next."
"Man... no plans at all, huh?"
"Once the family money comes through, we can live more comfortably."
She shrugged, putting on an awkward show of nonchalance.
Even that seemed kinda cute, so I figured my brain had fully surrendered to the booze and the girl.
Gulp.
She swallowed once, then extended her hand to me.
"Come with me."
I picked up my glass and stared at the booze rippling inside.
My wandering life flashed before my eyes.
How many years had I lived like this?
Days cleaning up someone's vomit, nights sleepless from my own deeds.
People dying, me killing, wanting to die by another's hand. Things I'd vaguely set aside all bubbled up faintly.
Not vividly, but enough to sway my feelings a bit.
If I followed Aster somewhere else, I'd never come back to this tavern.
Never taste its uniquely cheap flavor again.
Never share another drink with a guy named Billion.
Here I was, agonizing over something so simple at the end. What a weird guy I was.
'Oh, right.'
Billion was the type who didn't drink for his daughter's sake.
A small reason popped into my head for why he was so immersed in this drunken tale.
He'd misunderstood his daughter's personality and stopped drinking, but once cleared up, he got happily smashed.
'I see.'
Maybe I'd been "misunderstanding" too—that the streets were comfortable, and the world outside was nothing but hassle.
Once I dropped the misunderstanding and actually engaged, could I get happily drunk on the world too?
The urge to get intoxicated on something besides booze told me I'd wandered too long.
Well, living my way while helping Aster? That should be fine.
"I don't sell by the day."
I'd made up my mind.
"Oh...... okay."
She looked utterly dejected at my answer.
As she dropped her trembling hand under the table and bowed her head, I spoke again.
"But I can do by the month."
Aster, who couldn't continue for a moment, jerked her head up.
Her hair swayed and fell awkwardly—adorably so.
"...!"
"You get what that means, right?"
"Mister...!"
I'll be your knight.
A salaried knight. Declaring it washed away the fatigue with a strange sense of relief.
She got completely hyped and yelled at Billion to pour more booze quick.
Billion was wiping tears, glued to the story, so filling the glass took a while.
Before it was even full, she thrust it toward me.
"Cheers!"
I grinned and raised mine to her.
Clink—
The clearest sound I'd ever heard rang through the tavern.
I got drunk on that sound and drained my glass dry.
"Guro, why does that girl call you 'mister'?"
"......Beats me?"
Billion whispered quietly to me.
Thinking about it, our ages weren't that far apart, so why was I getting this treatment?
Billion twitched his eyebrows for a sec, then blurted at Aster.
"Miss, you like this drunken old-timer dad type?"
"N-no, it's not like that!"
She totally saw me as an old guy.
Drunken old-timer dad. The word hit like violence, hurting my heart.
'Damn this tavern owner.'
Billion gave me a look that screamed, "You are prematurely aged."
That mocking face pissed me off so much I tried to reveal my real age, but...
"It's not that I like you 'cause you're an old guy... no, wait, liking someone means different things to everyone, right...? So, like, uhh..."
Aster's weird deflection made me miss my chance.
Her expression was subtle, cheeks a bit flushed—nicely tipsy.
'Hmm.'
Having seen a lot of people, I could tell she was the type who surprisingly enjoyed teasing.
"Kuhaha, right you are. More pineapple?"
"No..."
For a moment, I thought I'd hop on this ambiguously upbeat vibe.
We'd been through the same battlefield, sort of.
Looking at her fiddling with her fine hair, I wanted to tease back.
I ran through options in my head and picked one.
'This should be fine. Drunkard joke.'
Booze makes for jokes and bonds, after all.
That's how I'd always lived, so it'd work this time too.
I lowered my voice unusually deep and said—
"What do you even like about a mister like me... haa."
That's what I went with.
With my hat down, I inwardly praised myself and smirked.
Had to be a witty joke, even by my standards.
I imagined Aster getting fired up and pouncing, Billion roaring with laughter.
The perfect cozy scene for drunks.
I quickly hid my expression, lifted my hat to check her reaction, but...
Twitch. Twitch.
Her head was bowed super low, not saying a word.
I froze solid at the unexpected response, speechless from shock.
Was I really that unfunny?
Billion twisted the knife.
"Guro, you're the type who shouldn't joke."
"...I'm in serious pain right now, so shut it."
"Where the hell did you even pull that joke from?"
"Drop it."
And so I fully abandoned my "witty drunkard" image.
Just pounded more booze.
Nothing else to soothe this sad heart.
It was Billion's fault I tried that joke, so I trashed his beloved grilled pineapples. Easy target—his soul food.
He spent ages explaining how great pineapple with bread would be, and we had a full-on argument. A proper shouting match.
What a pointless, fun end to the night.
And Guro, you foolish drunk, never noticed that one woman spent the rest of the night hiding a face redder than strawberries.