If It Hurts, Run

"Right. So if you do it like this…"

Haring sidled up close, as if to demonstrate, and made a V with her fingers.

Then—click.

Click!

"That saves a picture of me and the Flame Dragon in the photo album. The photo album is like a box that holds pictures…"

"Show me."

"Uh… can you even see this? Hold on a sec."

Looking doubtful, Haring started gesturing at empty air, tapping and swiping as if something invisible hung there. It was a different set of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠motions from the strange ones she'd done before.

What is she doing?

After a long stretch of humming and fussing, she clapped her hands, plucked something out of thin air, and held it up with a flourish.

A square photograph, a little larger than my palm. It looked for all the world like a freshly developed Polaroid from my previous life. Inside the frame, clear as day, was me from a few days ago wearing a blank expression, and Haring throwing up double thumbs-ups.

"Good thing I already printed one! What do you think?"

"Are you a mage?"

"Not exactly, but I can use something similar. If you use the print function, the photo comes out of the album. It costs money, though…"

"If you're not a mage, how are you making objects out of thin air?"

"Well, that's… um. I just can! I'm special, you know!"

Ahem!

Haring squared her shoulders and said it proudly. She seemed to be hiding something.

Photography wasn't unheard of in this world, but it was hardly common. Maybe something you'd only find in the magic kingdoms of the southern continent?

About a hundred years ago, in a magic kingdom where arcane scholarship thrived, a few mages had taken some of my ideas and built various tools—photography among them. Of course, back then you couldn't just pull a picture out of nowhere like this. My last visit had been forty years ago. If the craft had advanced since then, maybe they really could whip up photos this easily.

But.

"You don't have any mana."

Haring had no mana. Not a scrap of it—no mana-infused tools, either, and no trace of help from a fairy or anyone else. She was just a human mercenary who looked a bit tougher than average. She had nothing that could power the creation of a photograph. No matter how I turned it over, it didn't make sense.

"Or is this a dream?"

"Huh?"

Pinch.

I pinched my own cheek. Soft flesh stretched out, and Haring—who'd been lost in thought—startled, eyes wide, trembling.

I pinched until my cheek went red. I did not wake up.

…My cheek hurt.

"Ow."

"Ugh…! I want to try that toooo…"

"It wasn't a dream."

"Of course not! This is reality. Wait—reality. Um. I don't know. Anyway, yeah."

"?"

"Want the photo?"

Haring held out the square picture. I stared at it, then took it.

Fiddle. Fiddle.

The texture was exactly like a Polaroid from my past life. Of course, the memory was so old I couldn't be sure the feel was truly the same.

"It's slippery."

"Does it feel nice?"

"Yeah."

"If you ever need more, I'll print as many as you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠want and bring them. Cookies too, obviously."

"Really?"

"Yep! Just say the word whenever you need something!"

Heh heh heh! Haring said it with a bright, sunny smile. She whined about money constantly, yet I rarely saw her actually short on cash. When it came to spending, she acted more like the spoiled noble young lady of first impressions—barely batting an eye.

At this point, it was clear she hadn't come hunting for treasure. She doesn't even glance at the loot lying around the nest… Dig a little into the wall behind me and the treasure vault would open right up.

"Hmm…"

Haring was special. Not just in personality or behavior—she clearly possessed some kind of power different from any human or demi-human I'd ever seen. Talent… I couldn't say yet, but going by the image she'd shown so far, she probably wasn't lacking.

"All right."

I was fully awake now, and I had nothing better to do…

"Want me to teach you?"

"Huh? Teach me what?"

"You said you wanted training. If you don't, forget it."

"! R-really?! That's awesome! Uh, when should we start? Now? Or later?"

"Next time, bring lots of cookies."

"I'll buy a hundred!"

Yippee! Haring whooped with joy and bounced up like a rabbit. Watching her made me suddenly tired, but it didn't matter.

Anyway…

Teaching the basics just meant setting her to work and going back to sleep.

Haring was over the moon.

After two full weeks of offering tribute, the dragon had finally opened up. When it kept demanding she buy cookies that cost a full five thousand won apiece—dozens of them, no less—she'd wondered how she was going to manage. But in the end, it had paid off.

"Hehehe. The Dragon Knight title is mine!"

Her gallery ranking had been narrowing to a near-lock, and she'd been agonizing over it. She'd even considered just going public rather than getting caught and ending up with nothing…

"I'm losing my mind."

The rewards were no joke. The title and follow-up quest were one thing, but twenty-five thousand experience was practically bug-tier. Haring was only level seven—eating that much XP would rocket her straight to level thirty in an instant. In Frolazia, where newbies still made up a huge share of the player base, level thirty put you roughly in the top one percent…

Smooth sailing from here! Smooth sailing!

From now on, Haring's gaming life would be nothing but an open highway—no traffic, full speed ahead.

"Huff… huff…"

That was how it was supposed to go…

"Haaah… haaah… I'm dying…"

"Too slow."

Thwack.

What was this, exactly?

A tiny stick came slamming down onto the head of Haring, who had already run sixty laps around the nest. A monstrous little stick that flew through the air on its own. Tears of pain welled in Haring's eyes for a second—then she had to keep running so she wouldn't get hit again.

Crunch. Crunch.

And the mastermind behind it all, the owner of the stick—the Flame Dragon—was lounging comfortably in the nest, munching on the cookies Haring had brought. As if none of this had anything to do with her.

This is… training?

This was not the training Haring had imagined. She'd pictured learning cool dragon techniques, or awakening special powers like dragon magic and the Dragon Tongue. Failing that, she'd at least expected sparring with a dragon…!

I didn't come here to go runningggg…!!

"Too slow. Faster."

"Aaaargh!!!"

She ran. She ran. She ran without end.

Haring sprinted with everything she had, ready to die trying—but she still couldn't stop getting smacked in the head. No matter how well-geared she was for her level, stamina had its limits.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"It hurts! Ow!"

"If it hurts, run."

"I said I can't run anymooore!!"

"Don't get cocky."

Thwack.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Thud!

Haring collapsed.

"Fragile. Extremely fragile."

Had I misjudged her?

It wasn't even a hundred trips up and down the mountain—just a hundred laps around the nest—and she'd already fallen apart. Watching her climb that mountain so diligently, I'd thought she had decent grit. The result was deeply disappointing.

In her own mind she probably wanted dragon techniques or sparring, but that was out of the question. Without a foundation, even the finest techniques would never shine.

"Yaaawn…"

I yawned and tossed the unconscious Haring roughly deeper into the nest. When she woke up, she'd start running again on her own. If she quit, that would be the end of it.

"Might as well sleep."

I was full, and it would take a while for Haring to wake up—napping a bit wouldn't hurt. I wouldn't get deep sleep, but a light doze seemed doable.

I released my Polymorph and stretched out in the nest as I was. I'd shoved Haring as far away as possible so I wouldn't crush her, and then I closed my eyes…

"Ooooh! Found it."

"Fuuuuck! I said I was gonna find it!"

"Whoa, this was actually real…?"

"?"

More humans had arrived.

"Hey, there's a person here. Is that the one?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's the Climbing Gallery poster. Looks exactly the same."

"Looks like she was mid-quest. Already wiped, huh?"

"Nah, no way. There's gotta be something left."

Three new humans. An all-male party, geared about the same as Haring or a little better. Each of them carried a weapon and looked like mercenaries… but the way they brazenly started ransacking the nest—just like Haring had on her first visit—was truly absurd.

Not a shred of fear toward a dragon. Not even tension.

…Do people not know about dragons these days?

I'd thought Haring was uniquely unhinged. Apparently this was the average now. What on earth was going on down below? I'd preferred not to interfere, but it looked like I'd have to pay a visit soon.

Utterly insolent.

They flipped the unconscious Haring over once, set her back down, and started tearing through the nest even harder. I considered responding the way I had with Haring, but I was full and tired, so I left them alone. They'd leave eventually…

No matter how fearless they were, they wouldn't actually steal treasure with the homeowner right there in plain sight…

Rrrumble…!

"Oh! There's something here!"

"Holy crap, look at all that gold."

"It's a treasure vault! Yo, grab everything!"

…Haaah.

Playing nice wasn't going to work.

Rrrrumble…!