Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Why Would a Noble Come Here?
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Back-alley kids survive the harsh streets.
They dig through trash for food when they're hungry.
Even when the cold wind blows, they squeeze into whatever shelter they can find and fall asleep.
In a way, they're experts at street survival.
And they make use of anything they can get their hands on—roadside pebbles, broken chair legs, even the skewers people toss after eating.
They use every last thing to protect themselves.
But what if you suddenly found yourself dropped into a place like that with nothing in your hands—no club, no chair leg?
No problem.
Having those things from the start would be the weird part anyway.
If you'd been walking the streets carrying stuff like that, the kindly guards would've dragged you off long ago for a nice little interrogation and turned you into a model citizen.
That's exactly when you need to rely on the most primal weapon anyone has.
That being—
"What? What'd you just say?"
"You get beat so much your ears are going deaf now? Want me to say it again?"
"You little shit!"
A gravelly, foul mouth.
Just like how animals growl or thump their chests sometimes.
A loud voice was the best weapon for intimidating an opponent.
Unfortunately, though, it was a weapon anyone could wield.
Like a basic attack on a minion, curses and shouts in the back alleys were just your standard hits.
Like pros trading light jabs.
Come at me if you dare. That kind of vibe.
So you're throwing those jabs to defend your turf.
But then someone drags you off by force, or you're starving to death with no choice.
What if some unavoidable circumstance gathers you and all the other "pros" in one spot?
A cramped ring packed with dozens of boxers.
That'd be pure hell, right?
"Waaah!"
"Die!"
"Aaaagh!"
"Cough! Cough! You're kicking up dust—stop fighting!"
"...Did you not see my clothes?"
Hmm, another peaceful morning.
The orphanage mornings come early.
By dawn, the kids are up and making their beds.
Of course, "beds" were just wooden planks jammed together so tight there was barely room to stand.
But they were surprisingly springy—the way they bent under your weight tricked you into thinking they were soft.
If you were unlucky, you'd face-plant onto the floor in your sleep, but that was just too bad.
"Alright! Everyone, come get one!"
After tidying up and leaving the room, there was Director Teresa handing out bread from a box, one piece per kid.
The rock-hard loaves clutched in my hand—enough to challenge the jaw muscles of any growing child.
I grabbed the bread and a rough wooden cup, then headed to the well behind the orphanage.
If you didn't soak it, you really would be chewing all day—no joke.
I scooped water from the well and slowly soaked the palm-sized bread.
It sucked it up like sand in a desert—a few cups vanished in seconds.
"About time."
I bit into the soggy bread.
Still no taste at all.
I chewed diligently, the wind rustling through the empty garden as my ASMR soundtrack.
-Hey! Give it back!
-Haha! Come take it if you can!
Faint voices of kids drifted from the mansion.
"Fighting again, huh."
Probably because I'm the oldest and don't like running around in packs.
I didn't have friends at the orphanage.
But I wasn't being bullied.
I was the one bullying them.
After finishing my bread quickly, I headed back to the mansion, and a familiar voice rang out.
"Kids!!! Time to go to work!!!"
Teresa's booming voice at the set time.
Work hours.
On my way home from work as usual.
I chatted with Bern and Riel, who sometimes timed their visits to the nearby alleys, handing over the bread I'd gotten from the smithy today.
The problem was my "map" only loaded between orphanage and smithy, so topics ran dry fast.
I couldn't exactly repeat the crude jokes from the forge in front of Riel, so I talked about orphanage kids instead.
She'd look at me a little enviously whenever I did.
"It's not that great, you know? Didn't you see me hauling boxes at the smithy earlier?"
"Yeah..."
If there was no choice, fine.
But I didn't want to recommend the orphanage to Riel.
With how orphanages worked, honorable discharge and endgame was adoption.
Not everyone who came sniffing around could afford to take both of them.
Like any typical siblings, odds were high one would get left behind.
I mentioned my worries to Bern.
"It's fine."
An unexpected reply came.
"Hey, that worry's worse out here anyway. We could get kidnapped any day and no one'd bat an eye."
"True."
"Don't sweat it. We've already talked it out. Even if one of us gets left alone suddenly, we'll survive just fine."
They were more mature than I'd thought.
They'd even picked reunion spots for after they grew up and went independent, in case of death or separation.
"Dane, want us to tell you a few spots too?"
"Me? Why?"
"...Ugh, do I have to spell it out?"
"D-Dane bro's family too..."
"Me?"
Family, family.
Nice word.
A bond to lean on and protect each other against loneliness.
Sounds ideal.
But it was probably held together by years of memories and blood ties as siblings.
An outsider like me couldn't just waltz in lightly.
"Nah, I'm good. We can meet without pre-picking spots anyway."
"How?"
"Throw some money around, and people turn up."
"Hmm."
I brushed off the ticklish feeling in my chest and stood.
Time to head back to the orphanage.
"Once I make some cash, I'll come find you. So both of you stay alive."
"You, Dane? Money? A black-haired foreigner like you?"
"You little shit."
"Hey, hey. Riel marrying a prince is more realistic."
"Prince?"
This is an empire—only imperial princes here.
You'd have to emigrate next door for a king.
"Riel's been sleep-talking lately about wanting to marry a prince. Y'know, the one on the white horse?"
"O-Onii-chan...!"
Riel punched Bern lightly in embarrassment.
Well, "lightly"—but with hip twists mixed in, his face paled with each hit.
Hmm, girls that age do love that stuff.
As I watched with that in mind, Riel hurriedly explained.
"N-No... It's not like I specifically want a prince... Just, uh, someone cool who shows up and helps when I need it..."
"Someone cool who swoops in right when you need help."
I pondered whether to give Riel a reality check.
Someone like that showing up when needed.
If they'd had anyone like that around, they wouldn't have ended up in the back alleys to begin with.
"...Hope it comes true for you."
"...Huh? Oh, y-yeah...!"
In the end, I couldn't bring myself to crush her happy dream.
It's kinda cruel to whisper to a kid dreaming of Christmas...
...that Santa isn't real, so go ahead and cry.
"Gonna head out."
I brushed the dirt off my butt and gave a nod.
Bern jumped up and headed into the alley like always.
Riel stuffed the rest of her bread in her mouth and stood hurriedly.
"...!"
She tripped mid-step, so I grabbed her hand quick.
"Careful, you okay?"
"Mm...mm!"
"...No need to answer. Just chew slowly."
Her cheeks puffed out like a hamster with bread, nodding away—couldn't help but laugh.
Is this what a dad smile feels like?
I tried to let go, but she grabbed my hand with both of hers.
"Ow, owww..."
"No idea what you're saying. 'Don't let go'?"
-Nod.
Not in a rush, so I held on a bit longer.
Then I felt eyes on me and looked up.
A girl with orange hair was staring from afar.
One of the orphanage kids.
She must've spotted me by chance on her way to the square.
She came to the orphanage after me, one of the original crew.
"Oh, right."
If I'm the orphanage's absent dad, she's the nagging mom.
The type who grumbles but takes care of everyone.
Including me.
-Hurry up already!
-Put your empty cups in the kitchen like I said!
-Dane can't do anything on his own!
Stuff like that—she'd help out.
Haven't seen her lately since I've been hanging with Bern.
Maybe catch up now.
Her name was...
"Mm!"
"Huh?"
As I waved to her, Riel yanked my arm.
She bear-hugged me, patted my back.
Then waved and dashed into the alley.
What was that? Like a rough goodbye hug?
Awkwardly, I exited the alley, and the orange-haired girl was still staring.
"......"
"...Something up?"
"...Nothing."
"Hmm, reunion, huh..."
"Dane! Time to head back—quit slacking! I told you to store the leftover ore!"
"I did it earlier!"
"Oh?"
Maybe because of Bern's weird talk.
Or maybe simple work leaves too much room for weird thoughts.
Pointless worries kept popping up.
Like them, I kinda saw Bern and Riel as family-ish.
Someday I'd get adopted too.
And adoptive parents might not live here.
It'd be nice to meet again here someday...
Sip? Is that her? Nah? Looks like it... Maybe not?)
Even if we bumped into each other on the street later, we might not recognize each other.
Kids this age change looks fast.
No keepsake or mark to recognize? Like jewelry.
"Hey, Dane. What's a squirt like you groaning about?"
"Oh, sir. Know any gifts girls my age might like?"
"...You're asking me? A fifteen-year-old punk asking a forty-year-old man?"
"C'mon, how would I know? I'm not a girl."
"Haha! Right, boss! Dane's face might look girly, but watching him hoist boxes his own size? Total guy."
"Still, you'd know better than me, right?"
Sure, common trinkets come to mind.
Earrings... Nah, she hasn't pierced ears.
Rings or necklaces.
Problem: orphanage pay couldn't even cover the cheapest.
"Sir, got any spare rings or necklaces?"
"Hah! Go steal a rat's liver! You think I got jewels lying around?"
"Doesn't need jewels—just something unique, recognizable at a glance."
"Kid, if we had that, wives would've snatched it ages ago. We ain't hoarding."
Hmm, asking for a ring after a few months' part-time was pushing it.
"Forget I—"
"Just needs to be recognizable?"
"Yes?"
The smith stroked his beard, picked scraps from the scrap box, tossed 'em in the mold.
Melted metal, shaped it thin.
A few cheerful hammer strikes...
"Whoa."
A ring appeared in seconds.
Well, "ring"—the band was thin wire with holes poked through.
No shiny gems.
"A butterfly?"
"Who knew the boss had such delicate skills."
"How's that? Still got it, eh?"
Simple butterfly etched on the edge.
This... craftsmanship?
"Used this to win my wife's heart back in the day!"
I took the cooled ring from the water.
Distinctive butterfly—easy to spot.
"Don't these need to fit finger sizes?"
"Quit whining! You said recognizable was enough! Shove it on whatever fits—index, middle, whatever."
"Ah, right."
"Thanks! I'll put it to good use!"
I grabbed the ring and bolted from the smithy.
Not urgent, but when you get a gift, you wanna give it fast.
"Dane! No selling it 'cause you're broke, or you're dead!"
"C'mon, I'm not that shameless!"
"If it works out, tell me later!"
"Will do!"
Not like a confession or anything.
Just say I passed it on fine and she was happy.
Stepping out of the smithy...
"Dane!"
"Yeah?"
Orphanage kids were waiting.
I was a bit late, sure.
But they weren't the type to come fetch me at the smithy.
"You're out quick!"
"Hey, no time!"
"What? What's going on?"
Some panting hard—not a normal situation.
Something happen at the orphanage?
As I stared blankly, the orange-haired girl explained hurriedly.
"A n-noble's come!"
"Noble?"
"A high-ranking one!"
A high noble.
To our back-alley fringe orphanage?
"Why would a noble come to the orphanage?"
"How should I know?!"
"Hurry!"
"Alright, alright."
I ran with the kids toward the orphanage.
Eyes scanning for Riel.
Please be here today.
I scanned the familiar alleys.
That small tuft of brown hair poking out.
"Wait!"
"What?"
"Just a sec—really!"
I signaled I'd be right back and dashed into the alley, grabbing Riel's hand.
"E-eh?"
"Sorry, explain later. Take this. Super urgent."
I shoved the ring into her hand and ran off again.
"Tell you later!"
"Uh, o-okay!"
Figured I'd explain tomorrow when we met.