Chapter 14
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Conditional Meeting
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"Hold on, hold on!!"
I shouted urgently, stumbling backward.
The massive figure closing in on me.
If those bear-like paws grabbed hold, it'd be straight into the sack for me.
"Let's talk this out! We're civilized people, right!? Huh!?"
"Sure, I am. But you're just slum trash."
Sharl shrugged nonchalantly, and the giant's footsteps didn't stop.
"If you're gonna kidnap me by force, I'd rather bite my tongue and die!!"
"Try it. I'll just take your corpse and have it stuffed."
"Fuck."
Am I gonna die? Fine, go fuck yourself~
Even threats didn't work.
'......No choice then.'
As shitty and unfair as it was, I really had no options.
I had to back down here.
"A-alright, fine. I get it. I'll do what you want.
But I have a condition."
"A condition?"
Sharl raised an eyebrow.
"A slum rat like you, with conditions?"
"Just hear me out first?"
"...Fine. Go ahead and say it. I can at least listen."
'Just listening, not promising anything?'
Her face practically screamed it. What a bitch.
I swallowed hard and quickly ran the numbers in my head.
What I needed to secure in my current situation.
"Take over this place."
"Take over?"
"Buy it. The whole damn thing."
Thanks to my efforts, the tavern was just starting to get on track.
But if the head honcho suddenly bailed,
[Farewell, everyone!]
[I'm breaking free from all the chains of this world to chase my own happiness!]
Like that?
The aftermath was obvious.
First deal.
Sharl didn't even hesitate.
"Nah, pass."
"You've got tons of money."
"I do. But I don't have a hobby of buying trash cans."
"I'll let it go cheap."
She shook her head firmly. Ice-cold rejection.
Of course. A noble lady becoming the owner of a slum dive bar?
It didn't make sense even for the sake of maintaining dignity. I half-expected it.
"Then another condition."
I nodded toward the stairs to the second floor.
"I'm not going alone. Take Rinea too."
Sharl's expression turned icy in an instant.
She spat out her disgust without hiding it.
"That legless whore?"
"Yeah."
"Are you insane? You want me to bring that filthy thing into my mansion?"
At that moment, the giant approached Sharl
and whispered something in her ear.
".......Oh, really?"
She nodded, then looked back at me.
"That whore's your mom?"
"Yeah."
"Still no. Just you."
Then why the hell did you ask?
"I can give you time for a goodbye, at least."
"I'm five years old. Too young to leave my mom's arms."
"And?"
Sharl's face grew even colder.
Like she was looking at a bug crawling up her skin, pure revulsion.
"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm collecting you, not playing house with your family.
You can clean a ring smeared with filth and wear it, but you can't bring the filth itself into my room, right?"
Perfect line in the sand.
To her, Rinea was nothing but a lump of garbage. No room for negotiation.
Yeah. I figured as much.
"......Fine."
I gritted my teeth and played my final card.
"Then forget all that. Just one thing."
"What."
"Call a priest. As soon as possible."
Sharl's eyes went wide.
"A priest?"
"Yeah. Not some quack—a real high priest with divine power.
That 'filth' you mentioned? Her leg's rotting away, and she's on the verge of dying."
I panted as I fired back.
"And give me just one month."
"One month?"
"To see her recover fully and open her eyes healthy. And time to sort out the tavern. You can wait that long, right?"
Sharl fell silent for a moment.
Arms crossed, staring me down.
Probably doing the math.
The cost and hassle of summoning a high priest. And the month of waiting.
Weighing it against the value of her new toy—me.
"......Hah."
Soon, the corner of her mouth curved up.
"Fine. That's easy enough."
Easy, she says.
50 gold. A miracle slum folk couldn't afford in a lifetime,
and she summed it up with one word: 'easy.'
"Kain."
"Yes, miss."
"Look into it. Any issues?"
"Well... with money, what can't you do?"
Sharl nodded, then grinned at me.
"Deal on those terms. That settles it, right?"
"Yeah... sure."
"But in one month, no mercy. Crawl on your own feet or go in the sack."
She stretched lazily,
yawned as she said those brutal words, glanced around,
then added,
"Oh, and I'll have you watched. Run, and you're dead."
With that yandere-like line, she turned on her heel without a second thought.
"Let's go, Kain."
"Yes."
Click-clack. Her heels faded away.
Heavy footsteps followed.
Ding-a-ling.
The cheerful bell rang as the door closed.
Silence returned to the tavern.
"......"
Only after confirming they were completely gone did I
let out the breath I'd been holding.
"Haa...... fuck."
Thud.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor.
Cold sweat poured down my back like rain.
Honestly, it was a gamble.
Did she have any obligation to accept my conditions? Hell no.
She could've just crushed me with brute force and sacked me up. End of story.
That's what nobles do. That's the rule of this world.
That's why I deliberately baited two rejections.
Back-to-back refusals plant an unconscious sense of debt in the other person.
That subtle feeling of 'Am I being too stingy ignoring everything?'
Right on that timing, I dropped the third card: 'medical aid.'
Compared to the first two demands, this was a breeze.
She had more money than she could spend. Plenty of justification, no dirtying her own hands.
...That was the logic, and somehow it worked.
"Fucking bitch."
I wiped my trembling hand across my face.
50 gold. I snagged that massive fortune with just a flick of my tongue.
Of course, at the cost of pawning my life...
"......Still a profit, whatever."
I pushed off the floor and stood.
Then,
Flash—!
The snake-shaped bracelet on the floor caught my eye—the one I'd forgotten about.
......Huh? She didn't take it.
Well then, this.
I could just pocket it...
Ding-a-ling—!
Thud thud.
"Almost forgot and left it behind."
Ah, shit.
I thought to myself.
At the very least, I never wanted to cross paths with that beefcake again.
A week passed.
The tavern was still bustling.
The system was running smoothly.
And in one corner of that lively scene,
there sat a completely out-of-place figure, planted firmly.
"Hey, beer."
Kain. The watchdog that little bitch Sharl assigned was this beefy bastard.
Fucking hell, not a single thing in my five-year-old life went as planned.
"......Here."
The Master handed over the mug with a sour look.
Kain downed it in one go and belched thunderously.
"Buuuurp—"
"......"
"Tasteless. Dilute it properly."
"......Sorry."
He grumbled but kept shoveling the soggy peanuts into his mouth anyway.
I sat across from him, chin propped on my hand, staring.
"Hey, mister, aren't you bored?"
"Of what."
"Sitting here glued to this spot for a whole week. Not bored?"
Kain snorted.
"It's the job, kid."
"Real cushy job. Sitting around pounding beers."
"Pretty cushy, yeah. Feels like vacation."
He clasped his hands behind his head and tilted his chair back lazily.
He sure looked comfy.
After watching this bear of a man for the past week,
I'd reached one conclusion.
'This guy's just a straight-up thug!'
Flash back a week,
[See you soon, kid.]
The day after that bitch Sharl showed up.
I wake up, and boom—this ugly mug's shoved in my face,
introducing himself as a knight of the Kaintrea family.
Normal knights? Shiny armor, posturing about honor and chivalry,
plugging their noses at the slum filth.
Like those trash I saw in the dump before.
But look at this guy.
Never seen him in armor,
always in a loose leather vest and shirt.
Plopping down anywhere, eating and drinking whatever's put in front of him.
Anybody could tell: local thug through and through.
And his antics were even worse.
[Hey, buddy, watch those beady eyes...]
A couple days ago, some drunk punk picked a fight with Kain.
But this guy doesn't even respond,
[Gah!]
just trips him with a casual foot,
[Urk... gaaah!]
[Oh, sorry. Thought it was a rock.]
then grinds his face into the floor with his boot right there.
Sipping his beer calmly while the guy's screaming underfoot.
And to top it off, he looks the part of a thug.
"What're you staring at?"
"Just, you're ugly as sin."
"Hear that a lot."
Kain chuckled and drained the rest of his beer.
"Hey, mister. Why not just get hired here?"
"Oh? Doing what? Whoring?"
"Your looks ain't cut for that."
I swiped a beer Anne was carrying in both hands,
set it down in front of him, and said,
"Just guard the place."
Your face fits perfectly. Fewer troublemakers,
and if any show up, you handle 'em on the spot.
"Ditch knighthood to swing a sword in a brothel?"
"Yeah. Seems more your speed."
"Hmm, fair. I'm from these streets originally."
He agreed casually,
then,
"So, good pay?"
"Unlimited beer?"
"Ooh, not bad."
We bantered like that, but I knew.
Behind those lazy eyes,
a sharp glint never left me for a second.
No need for some comic battle meter—
living side-by-side with him, I felt it: this guy's seriously dangerous.
That's why he scared me more, why I couldn't even dream of running.
"Hey, kid."
Suddenly, Kain got serious and nodded toward the window.
"Get ready."
"......?"
"Looks like she's here."
Ruckus from outside.
Amid the drunks' murmurs, the crisp clop-clop of hooves cut through.
I jumped up from my seat.
Peering out the window,
a blindingly white carriage, utterly out of place in the grimy slum alleys, pulled up.
This world's mobile luxury, glittering with gold fittings everywhere.
The door opened,
whoosh—!
As if refusing to let it touch the filthy ground,
a servant hopped out first and rolled out a massive carpet.
"......Finally."
My heart sank.
Kain stood, wiping foam from his mouth.
"Better go greet her. Your precious 'miracle' has arrived."
True enough.
Time to rush out barefoot.
She's the VIP whose life I traded mine for.