Give and Take
Give and take is, at its heart, the basic formula for keeping any relationship alive, isn't it?
A bond where one side only gives and the other only takes is something you almost never see in nature—not unless it's a parent pouring love down onto a helpless young.
Well, there are animals that share food with a sick member of the pack, or lick a wound and stand watch until it heals. But that's the sort of thing creatures who live in groups do. And even then, once they decide the other party is perfectly fine, they don't go shoving food at them unless they're actively courting.
Humans are no different.
Because we live in groups, we extend a measure of welfare to those whose bodies have gone wrong. But at bottom, when someone receives something, they want to give something back. That's just how people are.
At the same time, if you do something for someone, you start to think—won't they help me the same way when I'm the one in trouble?
Some people analyze that as an act born of empathy.
Anyway, truly free welfare is rare, so people want to receive as much as they give, and give back as much as they received.
Oh—is that a kind of revenge, too?
Revenge stories are so much fun!
But if I get a single strand of Helena's jjamppong, and I let Helena have one spoonful of my fried rice—can you really say we exchanged things of equal value?
"Mm. What Yeonmin ordered is good too. What did you say this was called?"
"It's fried rice. Just rice you stir-fry, that's all. Everything tastes better fried, right? Okay, now you give me a bite of jjamppong too, Helena. Aahh."
"You're not a child. Why are you doing that... Here."
Watching Helena clumsily twirl the noodles around her chopsticks and feed them to me with such gentle care, I had to admit my side of the trade had come out absurdly ahead.
"...Mm. It's delici— uhk, haah, haaamp— w-water, please..."
"You said spicy food was hard for you. Why did you insist on eating it? If you didn't have enough, we could have just ordered something else."
"Augh, if Helena ate it, I have to try it too, hngh, ahhhhuuuh... M-more water, pleaseee— not the hot teaaa..."
Of course, the catch was that the spice had left me in genuine agony. Still.
When you start comparing values like this, plenty of people will want to know who came out behind and who came out ahead. Who on earth wants to live at a loss?
Which is why we have something that can set that value objectively: currency. In other words, money.
And money is something any society that can reasonably call itself a civilization needs. Walk into a restaurant and say, I dug up a rock, will you trade it for a meal? and you'll be shown the door. But if you trade that same rock for two silver bullets, you can get dinner and a room for the night.
...If anyone out there took that to mean I fired one round as a warning shot and pressed the other to the innkeeper's temple, I would be a little shocked. This is strictly a story about using bullets as currency.
So is a rock actually worth two bullets? Hmm. You'd have to ask Helena about that.
Anyway, Helena did trade a rock for a pistol and a handful of silver rounds. Which means she, in her own way, has been trying hard to live in this world. That must be why she'd asked earlier how to make money here.
It was admirable. It was moving. The Helena who, in that last moment in the other world, had been ready to take her own life... was now saying she wanted to live. Earnestly.
"Nyangnyangbeam. Doesn't that make you a little jealous?"
"Jealous of what, nyang?"
"Aahh."
"Ah, what the fuck, nyang. That's disgusting, what are you doing, nyang. If you can eat by yourself, pick up the chopsticks and eat, nyang. Why are you doing that to me, nyang."
"Yeonmin can eat by herself too, but Helena's feeding her, isn't she? Come on. Aahh. If you're embarrassed, shall I feed you?"
"Ah, cut it out— this is just jjajangmyeon, why would I want you to feed me, nyang. Yeonmin's tied up, so she doesn't have a choice, nyang."
"Aha. So if I put on restraints too, you'll feed me?"
"I am absolutely not feeding you, nyang!"
"What a shame. Well, it can't be helped. Helena, feed me a bite and I'll teach you how to make money."
Before the food had even arrived, Helena had asked her question and Miso Cheonsa had laughed it off with a vague well, I wonder. The fact that she was offering to help now was something to be grateful for, I supposed.
No—it really was something to be grateful for. So why did I feel so unsettled?
It wasn't strange at all that Miso Cheonsa had noticed I wasn't actually constrained by being tied up. I'd felt that enormous presence at the education facility first, after all, and turned to look. That was how our eyes had met.
So why was she doing this?
Was I afraid she'd give Helena the wrong information?
No. That couldn't be it. Helping us settle here properly would include work. Even if she couldn't find Helena a job herself, she could at least say, these are the kinds of work that exist, and given your aptitudes, this path might suit you. Something like that.
There was nothing to be anxious about, then.
So why was Miso Cheonsa looking at Helena like that, living up to her name? And why was I getting so impatient about it?
"Oh, you wanted the jjamppong?"
"Hehe. Anything is fine. You could feed me pickled radish and I'd still be happy."
And I couldn't understand why Helena was so cheerfully working her chopsticks for Miso Cheonsa, either.
...Was it because it felt like my role was being stolen?
Yes. That had to be it.
But I was a stranger here too. Recommending work that would suit Helena's aptitudes and let her earn money easily wasn't something I could do.
Still, the sight of our lovely Helena feeding a little girl who looked like a child wasn't a bad picture. No—however unkindly you put it, it was a lovely picture. A beautiful woman feeding a cute little girl. That only soured my mood further.
Honestly, the moment I got a body, my feelings became impossible to keep track of.
Still limp in my chair from the aftermath of that viciously spicy jjamppong, I could only watch helplessly as Helena fed Miso Cheonsa.
At least the whole performance hadn't been staged just to rattle me. Miso Cheonsa slurped down the noodles and went straight to giving Helena the information she'd asked for.
"Helena is in good health, so you could do simple physical labor. But strength alone won't give you an edge over people who are specialized for that kind of work. Ah—I'm not dismissing you, it's just..."
"It's all right. I saw them too. Those green-skinned humans with the enormous muscles, and the lizard people..."
"Ah, so you've seen orcs and lizardmen. Yes. Those other races are born with greater strength and stamina than humans, so competing with them in simple labor would be difficult. But you said you're a good shot, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"In a world like this one, there are plenty of people who can shoot. But if you were truly exceptional, you could even compete as an Olympic marksman. Failing that, there are jobs like soldier or police officer... though those aren't careers that only use your shooting, and they require a certain sense of calling."
"I'm not really the calling type."
It was a surprisingly serious career counseling session. Serious enough that you could believe she was genuinely worried about Helena's future. Of course, the light smile on her face was a separate matter—but that was probably right. That was why Miso Cheonsa had been assigned to us in the first place.
Watching her lay out what she knew for Helena so earnestly, I could feel that she was approaching this as a professional, without any personal stake in it. That was a relief.
...A personal stake?
Well, she was allowed to have a little interest in Helena. Someone as beautiful as Helena could turn anyone's head, man or woman. And if she met a good person, that would be even better.
And I'd been anxious about that?
Come on. No way.
I really did want Helena to do well.
"The truth is, picking up a gun already implies danger. So I don't particularly want to give this kind of advice. But in a world like this one, unless you enjoy shooting as a hobby, or you go into Hunter work entirely, there aren't many jobs for it."
Danger. For someone who only wanted Helena to live happily, it was a word I could not welcome.
But for Helena, it was something she had lived with her entire life. Maybe that was why she turned toward Miso Cheonsa's suggestion without a shred of hesitation.
"I've spent my whole life with danger. I can accept that much. A Hunter? What kind of work is that?"
"Hmm. In that case, a little experience should be fine. Nyangnyangbeam, once you finish lunch, would you take Helena through a gate? Something on the easier side."
"You sure that's okay, nyang? Even a low-rank gate is dangerous for a civilian, nyang."
"Hehe. It's all right. We'll all be going together. Won't we?"
She addressed Nyangnyangbeam, but those narrow eyes were looking at me. Only then did I understand that this was what Miso Cheonsa had intended all along.
You'll protect her anyway, so it's fine to take her somewhere dangerous. Or perhaps she wanted to test just how strong I was.
I wasn't a fool.
But Helena was the one who had said she would go, so I couldn't stop her. I had no intention of touching Helena's free will. No—I mustn't touch it. To stand by all this time and then step in now would be the height of hypocrisy. A cheap performance.
...But if I let this pass as it was, they would clearly try to make me do something with Helena's safety as the collateral. Without even knowing what kind of consequences that might have for them.
So I spoke to Miso Cheonsa in earnest.
"Miso Cheonsa. Could the two of us talk for a moment?"
"Of course."
And she rose from her seat as if she had been waiting for those words—even though there was still food left on her plate.