Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Finding a Job
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I stretched my stiff body and dragged myself up from my spot on the ground, fatigue weighing me down.
Somehow, I'd made it to the residential district.
But now I had no idea what to do next.
I'd prioritized escaping the slums to avoid that Pig bastard and find a better environment, but I hadn't really planned anything beyond that.
It was nice that there was no stench of filth here, but I couldn't keep sleeping rough forever.
Above all, I was starving.
I hadn't eaten a thing since yesterday.
If I could at least remember how I'd gotten by before, I might try that, but...
I had no such useful memories.
"...For now."
Yeah.
Finding a job had to come first.
But in my current state, if I begged for work, I'd probably just get beaten and chased off, so I needed to wash up somewhere first.
The problem was, all I had to my name were two copper coins.
I wasn't sure of their exact value, but from glancing at the street stalls on my way into the residential district, one copper coin seemed roughly equivalent to about a thousand won.
"...A public bathhouse would be ideal if I could swing it."
I shook my head, doubting two thousand won would cut it.
Instead of hunting down a bathhouse, I decided to wash in the river running through the residential district.
Everyone seemed to do their laundry there anyway.
No one would yell at me for washing up too, right?
Limping along, I headed there.
The stares from passersby felt heavy, so I stuck to the most out-of-the-way paths. It took quite a hike to reach the riverbank I'd spotted earlier.
As soon as I stepped onto the street, eyes locked onto me.
Some pinched their noses—probably at my stench—while others muttered curses just loud enough to hear.
It felt so unfair.
I wasn't here because I wanted to be.
I didn't want those stares or the insults.
There was no reason I deserved this treatment.
But under the weight of their disgusted glares, I couldn't muster a retort. I hunched my shoulders, fixed my eyes on the ground, and hurried on.
Thwack!
Pain exploded through my head from the impact.
I clutched it and collapsed right there.
Tears welled up as I checked my hand—blood smeared it faintly.
Panicking, I looked back to see two kids pointing and snickering at me.
Outrage hit me so hard I stared blankly, but adults who looked like their parents shielded the brats and glared at me instead.
"What're you looking at? Get lost!"
A stone to the head and curses on top.
Rage boiled up, but I swallowed it down.
This world was shit, sure, but mouthing off could lead to who-knows-what disaster.
I clenched my fists tight, pretending it didn't faze me.
Blinking back tears, I pushed toward the river.
Along the way, I endured all sorts of abuse.
Was it my Gloomy Aura trait, or did people just hate me? Either way, the loathing went beyond what anyone should endure.
At the riverbank, I saw women lined up doing laundry.
I followed it downstream until I found a deserted stretch, then slowly stripped and waded in.
The water was cold.
It stung my wounds, but I scrubbed hard to at least get clean and rid myself of the smell.
The slums had a river too, but it was so polluted with sewage no one could bathe or drink from it.
This water looked clean enough to drink.
I filled my starving belly with it and spent nearly an hour scouring my body by hand.
By the time my limbs went numb and strangely dulled from the pain and cold, instinct told me it was time to get out. I climbed onto the bank, wrung out my clothes—which were still damp—and put them on.
"...Is my nose numb, or can I really not smell the stench on me anymore?"
In the slums, this was average, so maybe I'd gotten used to it.
Sometimes, when others pinched their noses approaching me, it felt like overkill.
For now, I'd filled my gut with water. I plopped down on a nearby rock to kill time until my body and clothes dried.
"I want to go home..."
Even with narcolepsy wrecking my normal life,
it was still ten—no, a hundred times better than this.
What good was a clear head in a mess like this?
If anything, a foggy mind might help more right now.
"...I've washed up, so things should be a bit better than before. Wonder if anyone will hire me?"
If only my body was decent.
Rie's tastes were so twisted she turned me into this scrawny little girl.
A dirty, smelly, weak kid.
Who'd use someone like that?
I'm clean now, sure, but still a weak girl. That hadn't changed.
I'd scrubbed until my skin squeaked, but without a mirror, I couldn't check my face. That bugged me.
If I was at least cute or pretty, people might give me a chance.
I regretted not examining it properly during customization—it had been too shocking.
Once my clothes dried, I stood up.
Staying put like this got me nowhere.
I slapped my cheeks—smack smack—to snap out of it and gathered my thoughts.
I listed out what I could do in my head, then strode out confidently, heading for shops that might take me on.
"Hello! I'll do anything you ask, guaranteed! Could you hire me?"
"Hello! I'm looking for work!"
"Hello! Any jobs you need done?"
"Hello! If possible, could you take me on?"
Hello... Hello... Hello...!
Countless rejections.
Some glared down at me with disgust and slammed the door before I finished speaking. Others even splashed water on me.
"...Sniff."
At least it was water, not sewage like in the slums. The residential folk still had some basic decency, it seemed.
"...The last one at least gave me a proper answer. Small mercies."
Something like, no slum rats get hired around here, right?
Might've been my Gloomy Aura making them say things they didn't mean.
If it was the aura, they'd have said I was disgusting, not the slums.
Guess the slums were even more reviled than I'd imagined.
"Is it the pass I'm carrying? Or do my clothes scream slum dweller?"
Either way, to work, I needed to shed that slum vibe. Crystal clear.
"Achoo!"
My body shivered. I felt a cold coming on.
"...No time. Can't be helped."
I didn't want to stoop this low, but sometimes shameless persistence was the way.
I turned right around.
After knocking on over thirty shops, I headed back to the one with the kindest attitude.
An antique shop run by an old man who'd lost one eye.
His refusal was cold, but laced with concern. Worth a shot.
"Too dangerous for a kid with all these risky items," he'd said.
In other words, he didn't refuse because he hated me like the others—he genuinely thought it wasn't suitable for a child.
"...Didn't expect such warm words; threw me off. But thinking back, that's why I'm heading there now. Not my fault."
Feed a stray cat out of pity, and it'll follow you forever.
You meant nothing by it, but the cat latches on.
That was me right now.
Those casually kind words drew my steps to that antique shop.
If I camped out front for days, eyes wide and pleading, begging to be taken in, it had better odds than anywhere else.
Sweep the street trash while beaming sweetly—might work.
In this state, nowhere else would take me anyway.
Everyone in the slums saw me buy the pass.
I bolted here in a rush before they processed it.
Go back now, and they'd target me just for having money.
No way I'd return. No intention to.
I had to make it here in the residential district somehow.
At the antique shop, I looked around.
Tucked in an obscure corner where few ventured.
I huddled against the wall and sat down.
Cold, but no filth scattered around, no smell either.
My water-filled stomach sloshed faintly, but I wasn't hungry right now.
Rie wasn't complaining despite the time sink. Guess she really made a new character to raise.
Unbelievable.
My head spun; I pressed my temples hard.
Shivers wracked me. I wasn't doing well.
I needed to wait bright-eyed for the old man to come out.
But it wouldn't be easy.
Sleep pressed in.
Too much had happened yesterday and today.
The old man couldn't stop thinking about the little girl he'd turned away that afternoon.
Her ragged clothes and the pass clutched tightly in her hand marked her as a slum kid instantly.
So starved her bones poked through—primal pity had stirred in him.
"She had that gloomy, off-putting aura, but she didn't seem bad at heart."
His quiet mutter captured his feelings perfectly.
She gave off creepy vibes, sure, but his antiques included plenty like that. He ignored it.
What mattered was essence, not superficial aura. He knew that.
So he could see past her gloomy air to the girl beneath.
She'd come asking for work.
Said she didn't need pay.
Just food and a bed, and she'd work hard.
No lies in those words.
And he'd sensed her hope mixed with anxiety.
But with the dangerous wares, safety concerns won out. He refused.
"Hmmm..."
He swallowed a sigh.
Maybe he should've taken her in, given her odd jobs, looked after her.
Too late now.
Regret wouldn't change it.
Tsking in lingering disappointment, he rose and headed out to close up for home.
As he stepped outside, there against the wall sat a tiny figure.
In the dark night, he squinted his dim eyes and glared.
Clouds parted, moonlight spilled down, illuminating her.
He recognized her at once.
The girl from earlier.
Had she been waiting all this time?
His face soured as he approached, but unease hit him quick.
Her breathing—so faint it could stop any second. Barely there.
"Hey...!"
He rushed over, pressed a hand to her forehead—scalding hot.
Her hands and feet were ice-cold, and shaking her did nothing.
What to do with this kid? The question didn't linger.
He scooped her up easily and carried her back inside.
Thinking, If this is fate, then so be it.