Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Abandoned
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After finishing the cleaning and receiving my daily wage, I leaned against the wall near the gate and tried to sleep.
A distance where screams would reach the guards.
In a place like this, even if that Pig bastard found me, he wouldn't dare touch me recklessly.
Rustle- Shivering in the chilly weather, I looked up at the wall.
As if they had no intention of letting the slum dwellers inside, the roughly 6-meter-high wall cut straight through, dividing the slums from the residential district.
If it had been a reasonable height, I might have tried climbing over it.
But the wall was too tall.
In the end, to escape this place, I'd need a pass.
"...My daily wage is two copper coins, so to buy a pass..."
A pass cost one silver coin.
One silver coin equaled 100 copper coins.
"...I'd have to work another 50 days."
I shifted my gaze from the wall to the sky above.
The night sky, embroidered with starlight, was beautiful, but so distant and unreachable that it only felt lonely.
"The problem is whether they'll just sit back and watch me work quietly for 50 days."
To me, this situation wasn't a game right now, but to streamer Rie, it was a game.
No one would enjoy watching the character they control shovel filth for 50 days.
"I somehow got through today, but I need to save money as quickly as possible."
That was my judgment.
Working for two copper coins a day for 50 days was absolutely not happening.
Forget the risk of Rie getting bored and deleting the character—even that Pig bastard was a problem.
Since I'd smashed his head with a rock, he'd obviously come looking for revenge.
No one would buy excuses like it wasn't my will.
...I should have just killed him for real back then.
I muttered it to myself, but it was too late, and I couldn't have done it anyway.
Even if ordered to kill someone, no normal modern person could follow through.
My mind raced with thoughts, but no answers came, leaving me frustrated.
I let out a sigh and closed my eyes.
I'll think after sleeping. And if it's all a dream when I wake up, even better.
And so, day broke.
Unfortunately, it didn't turn into a comforting tale like "it was all a dream."
When I woke, my whole body ached like I'd been beaten.
After cleaning for over six hours, my muscles felt torn and screaming.
"...Ugh, gotta get up."
I pushed off the ground and staggered toward the gate like a cat with its whiskers plucked.
But as I approached, the atmosphere seemed ominously tense for some reason.
Not just the two guards at the gate, but several uniformed men with swords at their waists were huddled together discussing something.
Figuring it'd be trouble if I got involved, I took a step back. Then the guard who'd given me work yesterday spotted me and beckoned me over.
Having no clue what was going on, I hesitated before approaching, and he held out a paper.
"You wouldn't happen to know this guy?"
"Uh..."
It was a drawing.
A sketch of a person's face.
Though lacking fine details, the rough features captured him perfectly—I recognized him at once.
"...Pig?"
It was the guy I'd smashed with the rock yesterday.
But why show it to me?
Unsure of his intent, I just blinked. He rubbed his temple like it was a headache and spoke.
"Since you called him Pig, you know who he is, right? The thing is, this punk suddenly croaked yesterday, and it's a pain."
"...What?"
Dead?
Who?
Pig?
"Why are you telling a kid about this...?"
"What's it matter? This scum strutted around the slums stirring up every kind of trouble. No one's sad he's gone—plenty are thrilled. This kid probably too."
The situation made no sense, but in a case like this, nodding was enough—no need to ask more.
He wasn't really asking my opinion anyway; it was just idle mutter.
"But... what do you mean he suddenly died?"
"Dunno. Looks like his head got bashed with something—fatal wound, wouldn't stop bleeding. Found him collapsed in an alley, screaming his last."
...That alley from yesterday?
Head bashed with something?
...Then that means I killed him, but it didn't feel real.
Me killing someone—or a kid's rock doing it.
"Even if dying helped society, it's still murder, so we need to investigate... You know how slum folk dump filth everywhere? Can't preserve the scene."
Good—the thought slipped out unbidden.
Relieved that killing someone and stumping the cops was going well.
A surge of self-loathing hit, but relief dwarfed it.
"Might not even be blood loss."
"...Huh?"
"He bled and collapsed, sure, but with the filthy scene, maybe infection killed him."
The guard sighed. An older uniformed man nearby patted his shoulder.
"Enough. Don't say more weird stuff to the kid."
"Yeah, well... here to work today?"
At those words, time froze.
The alien sensation I never got used to, no matter how many times.
Achievement! First Murder
You have committed your first murder.
You've done something no human should.
You can console yourself that it was unavoidable, but that won't erase what you've done.
Gloomy Aura E → Gloomy Aura D
[Gloomy Aura D]
Through frequent abuse and torment, you exude a gloomy aura.
This aura has consumed your experiences and grown.
This uncontrollable energy will give people ample reason to despise you.
"...Sorry, but like I felt yesterday, I just can't trust you with work."
"...S-suddenly?"
"Sorry, but it feels off somehow."
The guard started to assign me the same job as yesterday but frowned and shook his head.
Stunned by the sudden shift, I bit my lip, guessing the reason—my upgraded trait.
"No business here? Go on then. Don't sleep against the wall like yesterday, or I'll scold you."
Turning from his cold words, I headed back into the slums.
Without Pig, there'd be no immediate issues, but my unruly trait was ruining everything.
[Achieved an accomplishment, and all I get is a debuff trait upgrade?]
I didn't know when she'd started, but Rie was chattering noisily.
Anger surged—I wanted to curse—but the stinging stares around me forced me to swallow it.
Killing Vicious Bedril!
Obtained some of his possessions!
As if responding to Rie, a mechanical voice rang out suddenly. I frantically checked my pockets—nothing.
Wondering if it was a prank, I scowled. The answer came from Rie.
[Three silver coins and a chipped shortsword... Wonder if this buys a pass?]
...Inventory must be visible only to the player, not me.
Hoping it wasn't a joke, I bit my lip. Then [Just give one silver coin for now]—and my empty pocket grew slightly heavier.
Instinct told me not to flash silver coins amid the stares, so I acted natural.
I headed to the Management Office.
[But this guy's really boring... Should I just delete him? Yeah? I can make a new character anyway?]
I stopped in my tracks.
I couldn't comprehend what Rie was saying.
[Ah, right, inventory's account-shared... So I can pass what this one earned to a new one?]
"What..."
[Then let's make a new one. This starting point sucks. Not an orphan—upper class, something rich.]
With that, Rie's voice cut off.
She'd gone to create a new character, as promised.
What the hell was this?
My head throbbed as irritation and rage mixed into an indescribable emotion leaking out.
"No... If Rie stayed, she'd just spam weird choices and make it hell... So it's fine."
I rationalized, swallowing my rage.
For now.
Yeah, for now—focus on what I need to do, think later.
Entering the Management Office, I warily glanced around and pulled out the silver coin.
My already grimy, blistered hands oozed pus.
The coin stung and stuck to my grip.
The clerk pinched his nose at the stench but took the coin and issued the pass.
The pass listed my name and physical traits—useless if stolen.
That day, I left the slums for the residential district.
Of course, my sleeping situation didn't change.
I'd just come to the residential district on a whim.
Like in the slums, I was still a homeless bum.
At least, no more filth around.