17. T-take It Off
17. T-take It Off
"Here, have some tea. I brought biscuits too—try one."
"Oh, these have honey in them."
"Heh heh, you can hardly call it a proper snack unless it's at least this good, can you? Go on, eat up."
We found ourselves sharing a leisurely snack, seated side by side on a bench.
The biscuits served with the tea had honey in them, and the sweet taste came through clearly.
To think the day would come when I'd be eating snacks made from what qualifies as luxury ingredients in this world.
Well, it just goes to show—good manners always pay off.
"So, I hear you came to get equipment fitted... Before we get into that properly, why don't we introduce ourselves?"
"Ah, yes. I'm called Woo Hyosung, affiliated with the Labor Union."
"Heh heh, so your name's Woo-hyo. What an unusual name."
It's not Woo-hyo, it's Hyosung, but well, since he introduced me by name, it'd be properly imprinted in his memory soon enough, so I didn't bother correcting him.
If he keeps calling me Woo-hyo Woo-hyo even after it's imprinted, he'd just be teasing me, so it wasn't worth worrying about.
"Pleased to meet you, young man. I'm called Jang, spending my retirement here on Craftsmen Street. People who know me call me Alley Chief Jang, since I'm the one who watches over this alley."
"Ah, I see."
For a moment, I thought what a fitting name that was.
A man named Jang who guards a street where smiths reside, so they call him Alley Chief Jang...
"Are you a blacksmith, sir?"
"Not a blacksmith—a chief, Chief Jang."
"Hm, right. Not a blacksmith, but Chief Jang... That title really suits you, sir."
"Heh heh! Every word out of your mouth tells me you're a sharp young man!"
The old man laughed heartily, clapping me on the shoulder.
His hands looked so gaunt it seemed a strain just to hold his cane, yet each pat carried a surprising weight I could feel.
Well, even if he wasn't hostile, I'd just come from watching someone get their skull cracked open, so it's no wonder I was unconsciously a little spooked.
"Anyway, if you're here to get equipment fitted, you've come to the right place. I know the craftsmen on this street pretty well. If there's particular gear you want, I can recommend a shop based on your budget..."
"Ah, yes. The budget I'm working with is about this much, and what I'm mainly looking into is light armor and a weapon suited for the front line."
I conveyed what I'd planned to discuss and glanced over at his expression.
He nodded along, then eventually rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.
From the very start of the consultation, it was clear he was taking this quite seriously.
"With a budget like this, you might do better to indulge in a bit of luxury rather than focusing solely on cost-effectiveness."
"Luxury, you say?"
"Nobles flaunting extravagance when they've nothing else doesn't much appeal to me, but still, if you're setting out on an adventure, you might as well pursue a little romance, no?"
Romance.
In truth, it was one of the biggest reasons I'd chosen to stop being a Foreign Worker and become an adventurer.
"Roaming the continent, seeking out dungeons, and at the end of it all, excavating a forgotten king's tomb to claim its treasure... If you're clad in nothing but shabby, ugly gear at that monumental moment, it just won't look cool."
"That's definitely true. Facing a once-in-a-lifetime monumental moment looking like a beggar would dim the joy."
"This young man knows what he's about. Well, if you've set out on an adventure with grand ambitions, what good does it do to chase only efficiency? If you enter a dungeon only looking for things worth coin, you're not an adventurer—you're just a miner wearing an adventurer's skin."
Right. As the old man said, what determines the value of an activity isn't what task you do, but the mindset with which you undertake it.
Even when doing the same job, if it's a dream for one person and mere money-making for another, what they gain from it and how they feel about it are bound to be entirely different.
And maintaining that kind of mindset is helped along by having the right trappings to match.
"With the budget you've suggested, magical gear like those show-offs use might be out of reach, but investing in things like ornamental armaments could be good. Is there any equipment you've admired along those lines? A jewel set into a self-defense dagger, or an engraved pattern on a sword's hilt..."
"Hm, ornaments, huh."
But maybe it's because I've lived a life that never allowed for such luxuries?
Even having heard the old man's advice on romance, nothing that I could name as "good" sprang readily to mind.
After all, the romance I'd always envisioned lay less in showing off with outward adornment, as the old man described, and more in concealment.
"Rather than ornaments, I'm interested in something else. Something like that cane you carry, sir."
"You mean this cane?"
"Ah, yes. Do you know of something called a sword stick? It's normally disguised as a cane, but when you activate the mechanism, a blade shoots out..."
"Heh heh, a weapon disguised as an everyday object. What a peculiar bit of romance you have."
Of course it is.
One of my dreams is that if I ever make a lot of money, I'll commission a crutch made of mithril and walk around cosplaying as a weakling.
Strutting around like the heroes only multiplies the life-threatening situations, but if I hide just one powerful weapon, wouldn't I be able to crack the skulls of any punks trying to pick a fight with me, just like this old man?
"So, the reason I'm asking is, earlier when you swung your cane, I didn't see any sign of you channeling mana or anything like that."
"Heh heh, that's right. They say I was something in my day, but what kind of power would an old-timer like me have to openly counter a magical weapon? It's all because the cane is made of good material."
So the secret of that strength really was the cane.
Feeling my interest immediately drawn to it, I ventured a question on a hunch.
"If the material is good... could it possibly be a cane made of mithril?"
"Pu-haha! What a funny joke you tell! Do you think it makes any sense to make a backroom old man's cane out of the material used for the weapons of Heroes?"
The old man laughed heartily, slapping my back as if my hopeful question were juicy gossip.
The force of it hurt my shoulders, but even more than the physical pain, I felt a pronounced sadness hammering itself into my heart like a stake.
I'd thought he'd at least entertain the possibility, but he burst into laughter right away. No matter how you look at it, that's just too harsh.
"Well, not quite mithril... It's made from an alloy personally processed by a craftsman I have ties with. They say it's exceptionally hard yet light, perfect for gripping and swinging."
"Oh, is that so?"
But this new information was impossible to overlook.
Even if it wasn't mithril, if the material was both hard and light, wouldn't that make it exactly what I'm looking for right now?
"E-excuse me, sir? If it's all right, could you introduce me to that craftsman?"
"Hmm? You mean that friend of mine?"
"Ah, yes. As I mentioned earlier, I'm trying to focus on fitting myself with light armor, and if the material is light and hard, I think it'd perfectly meet those requirements."
Of course, a material personally made by a craftsman would cost a certain amount, but since I'd be using the gear for a long time, it made sense to make the initial pieces relatively sturdy.
With that in mind, I made the hopeful suggestion, and he rested his chin in his hand, letting out a thoughtful groan.
"Well, introducing you isn't a problem... but once you meet, you'll get a bit of a headache. That friend of mine is quite an oddball, you see. They've got many grating aspects that make them hard to deal with as a person."
"Grating aspects?"
"For that, you'd feel it more surely by meeting in person than by me explaining with words..."
Slid.
The old man's drowsy eyes swept over me.
After a moment of that, his previously stiff face started to loosen slightly.
"Well, you'll probably be fine. I'll write you a letter of introduction, so go find them and have a consultation."
"Really?"
"Heh heh, in this barren world, shouldn't I at least repay you for keeping an old man company as a conversation partner?"
The old man smiled affably, stroking his beard.
I felt the conversation was turning out well from his attitude, but soon I began to sense a serious glint entering his eyes.
"Still, since I'm introducing an acquaintance, let me give you a piece of advice out of unnecessary worry."
He even put weight into his next words, as if issuing a warning.
"That friend is extremely sensitive about promises, so if you ever have to make one, do so with great caution."
"...Promises?"
"It means don't make a promise you can't keep. Can you keep that in mind?"
But despite the gravity, I didn't feel any particular tension at his words.
Because I was someone who had never once broken a promise in my life.
"Sure, well. If it's just that much."
The whole point of a promise is to keep it, so who goes around breaking them?
You'd have nothing to say if something happened to you later, so shouldn't you live cautiously?
****
After wrapping up the conversation like that, I received the letter of recommendation and made my way to the deepest part of Craftsmen Street.
But despite his proud claim of using good materials, the place I ended up at wasn't a bustling main street but an area closer to a back alley.
A secret place hidden deep where others couldn't easily see, so to speak...
Well, fine. It's the home of the craftsman who made the super-alloy cane, so maybe they'd insist on a place like this.
Whatever the case, I decided to receive the consultation first and then decide. With that in mind, I immediately stepped inside and prepared to call out to whoever was there.
"Excuse me. Is nobody—"
"Hoo."
At that moment, I felt a presence beside me along with the sound of an exhale.
I stopped mid-sentence and turned my gaze there, and just then, the figure of someone smoking a cigarette on the nearby street caught my eye.
"What, you. Got business here?"
An older woman.
The apron she wore in front and the tools at her waist told me she was a smith active in this workshop district.
"Are you the craftsman?"
"I'm the owner here, yes."
Hoo, the woman took a drag of the cigarette pinched between her fingers and exhaled smoke.
Her eyes, as murky as that smoke, soon turned my way, indifferent.
"You a thief?"
"No, well... I came on the introduction of someone called Chief Jang."
"You came on another smith's introduction?"
"No, um, from an elderly gentleman named Chief Jang... Here's the letter of recommendation, to start with."
Hesitantly. The moment I nervously fished out what I'd kept in my coat and handed it over to her.
The woman who took it briefly scanned the contents and furrowed her brow.
"...Thought it might be someone. So it was that young sprout."
"Young sprout?"
"Well, I've got a promise to keep, so if he sent you, I'll have to deal with you."
Hoo.
The woman exhaled smoke and entered the building.
As I stared blankly at her figure, she stopped in place and glanced back at me.
"What're you doing standing there? Not coming in?"
"Huh?"
"You said you came to get equipment fitted. Follow me, I'll give you a consultation."
"Ah, yes. I'm coming."
Answering her flat voice, I immediately followed behind her into the smithy.
And then, welcoming me right onto the table was a single document.
"What's your name?"
The woman, who had placed her finger on the blank space of the document presumed to be an order contract, held a pen in the hand not holding her cigarette and quietly asked me.
"...You mean my name?"
"Need it for the contract."
Tap, tap, tap.
The woman tapped the document with her finger, waiting for me to speak.
Feeling a sense of urgency from her action as if she were pressing me, I unconsciously tensed my throat and answered with difficulty.
"It's, uh, Woo Hyosung."
"...An otherworlder?"
"Yeah, yes. That's right."
"Doesn't seem like a Hero. A Foreign Worker?"
"...Yes, you know your stuff."
"Course I do. It's this kind of world."
Scratch, scratch. She wrote the information I'd just given into the name and classification fields on the order form.
After that, taking a drag of her cigarette, she faced me again, exhaling the smoke as she spoke.
"Tachia Piloi."
"...Pardon?"
"My name. Whether you use honorifics or casual speech, that's up to you."
"Ah, yes. Nice to meet you. Then, Miss Tachia—"
"You came to get equipment fitted. What kind of budget are we talking?"
The moment her greeting was received, Tachia immediately switched topics.
Even though you'd expect a few words of small talk once a conversation opens, she seemed intent on jumping straight into business without the slightest consideration for such things.
I don't know about a sense of distance, but the pace was so fast it was hard to adjust...
Then again, I didn't come here for a leisurely tea either, so maybe this was actually the right way.
I shrugged it off and accepted it, then smoothly presented the pouch of gold coins to her.
"About this much. I'm looking to fit both armor and a weapon... Is this insufficient somehow?"
"What's there to be insufficient about? We adjust the budget and requirements appropriately to make it. If it's too much, I'll filter some out. If it's short and you still want it made, I'll mix in some lower-quality materials."
Tachia briefly inspected the contents of the coin pouch.
Having roughly gauged from its contents, she slid the pouch back toward me and rose from the table.
"For a weapon, you can just roughly buy anything that fits your hand and I'll process it, so let's put that aside for now. For custom-ordered armor, I need to take your measurements first—did you bring something like a physical exam chart?"
"No, I haven't been measured since coming to this world."
"Then I'll measure you here, so take off your clothes and stand there."
"Ah, yes. Take off my—excuse me?"
What did she just say?
Did I mishear? Did she mix up the words and say "undress" instead of "dismiss"?
"I need to take your measurements, so I told you to take off your clothes and stand there. You don't understand?"
No, I heard her loud and clear.
That she, a woman, boldly told me, a man, to take off my clothes and stand there.
"No, I understood. But, well..."
"But what?"
Tachia demanded an immediate answer to my hesitation.
As I agonized over how to answer without sounding too flustered, the first thing that popped into my head spilled out of my mouth.
"Do my, uh, underwear... need to come off too?"
A question that, depending on how she took it, could have been seen as quite sensitive.
"You want them off?"
"Uh, no."
"Then leave your underwear on. I'll go get ready, so don't run off somewhere."
"Ah, yes..."
As Tachia answered nonchalantly and disappeared into the back room, I replayed the conversation so far and felt my mind going hazy.
What on earth is with that lady? She talks in such a blunt way, yet it seems like she'll do everything that needs doing. Is that supposed to be her version of kindness?