Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 003
Chapter Title: Slop Bucket (2)
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[A hungry person asks no questions.]
[They merely seek food.]
...or so some proverb goes.
Rustle, thud.
I kicked a half-rotten wooden crate.
A baby rat squeaked and scurried away.
This was the border between the slums and the nobles' district.
The so-called "gray zone"—a garbage dump.
The junk discarded by the lofty nobles first piled up here.
So what was I doing in this trash heap...
"Ah, just looking for food."
I never imagined I'd stoop this low.
Fuck, I'm starving.
Skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner yesterday.
And breakfast today, too.
I figured I was used to going hungry by now,
but this pathetic, scrawny kid's body just couldn't hack it anymore—the sky was turning yellow.
I rummaged through a pile mixed with rotten apple peels and fish heads.
My fingertips brushed something damp and sticky.
One sniff,
"Cough... whoa, damn."
An indescribable, shitty, fishy stench,
not content with stabbing my nostrils, even forced bile up my throat.
This... eating it would kill me.
I'd have known better under normal circumstances,
but no, I had to dig it up—what a fucking moron.
The one who'd reduced a wise guy like me to this was undoubtedly that glasses-wearing prick.
Gah, ptoo.
I wiped the sticky drool from my mouth and scanned the surroundings again.
Like hunting for a four-leaf clover in a patch of three-leaf ones,
something I could eat right now.
Or at least something to sell for a candy bar...
Flash!
"Huh?"
Something buried in the black sludge glinted for a moment.
So I dug it out.
This was...
"Puh... pussy, dick, sex—my precious..."
A ring.
Silver band.
A blood-red ruby embedded in the center.
Why the hell was something like this here?
I wiped it off roughly and stuffed it into my pocket in a flash—right then,
Creak...
The side door in the tall wall nearby swung open.
The boundary dividing slums from nobles' turf.
A door that should have been locked tight cracked open, and
"Ugh, the smell!"
a mismatched group burst out.
I ducked my head on instinct.
It was quick, but I caught their silhouettes.
A fancy dress trimmed with white lace.
Silver hair sparkling in the sunlight.
A girl who looked maybe five or six at most.
And behind her, three burly guys in armor.
"...Let's head back now, miss."
"This isn't a place for you."
"But!"
A shrill shout rang out.
"It's the gift Mommy gave me! On my eighth birthday!!"
Ah, so past eight, huh?
Pitiful height for her age.
She'd definitely grow up flat-chested.
I kept that thought internal as I hunched down further.
[Leon. If you run into a noble...]
[Run into one?]
[Keep your eyes down.]
I recalled what the glasses guy had said.
[...Even looking them straight in the eye is a provocation to them.]
[Remember, nobles can lop off your head just because they're in a bad mood...]
Right there on the spot, or something like that.
The class system in this world was absolute.
Especially slum rats like us—our lives were worth less than flies.
Any noble or knight could kill us on a whim,
then claim "the rat lunged at me, so I cut it down," and that'd be that.
So I flattened myself.
I hadn't even had sex once yet—couldn't die here as their boredom cure.
Not in my past life, nor this one.
"Ah, seriously! Search properly!"
"Miss, it's been thirty minutes already. It's probably not here..."
"Shut up! If it fell into the sewer, then it's gotta be here!"
The whiny girl stomped the ground in irritation.
Didn't seem to care that her shoes were getting filthy with sludge.
The knights, on the other hand, were different.
They were half-heartedly prodding the trash with the tips of their scabbards.
"......"
For a while, quietly...
Splash, thud. Thud.
Sounds of sludge being stirred, heaps being dug through.
Hm. I'm trash.
Part of this trash pile.
Blending into the background, one with the place...
"Find it! The ruby! My favorite!!"
"Fuck what!?"
Ah, shit.
"...What? You."
This was why poverty was a bitch.
Suddenly blurting out such a fancy, perfect, lewd word,
my insensitive slum-pig body hit climax on the spot and...
...let it slip.
"...What are you, I said?"
"...Step back for now, miss."
Clank.
Heavy chain rattle. Earsplitting metal scrape.
One knight approached, drawing his sword halfway from its sheath.
...I'd figured as much.
After blurting that curse out loud without thinking,
I'd panicked and smashed my face harder into the sludge floor.
I was just guessing from the sounds.
"...Hey, slum rat."
A low voice echoed from inside the helmet.
I replied,
"...Speak, sir knight."
As mildly as possible,
politely. Made myself look as harmless as could be,
yeah, just like Rinea always did.
"What were you doing here?"
"Looking for food."
"Food? What nonsense..."
He paused for a moment,
"...Orphan, huh. Makes sense."
"My mother's sick. Anything edible..."
"Enough. Answer only what's asked, slum."
Splash!
"Sorry."
I slammed my forehead into the ground.
"...Well-mannered for a slum rat."
"Hm, mother sick?"
"Practically an orphan then. Heh heh..."
The other brutes had drawn closer, too.
The first voice spoke up again.
"...So, why were you hiding?"
"Wasn't... trying to hide."
"No intent?"
I swallowed hard,
"Just... didn't want to catch anyone's eye."
"Slum, don't you know that's called hiding?"
"Can't offend the nobles or knights."
I desperately tried to answer.
"A filthy thing like me moving around carelessly... no good, right?"
"Hm..."
"This kid's something else."
"Yeah? Dad get stabbed by a knight or something?"
Burned to death, actually.
Anyway, the voices seemed to soften a bit—thank goodness.
I hadn't pissed them off.
If they killed me anyway, fuck...
...fuck, no helping it. I'd die.
"Raise your head, slum."
Command.
I put on a trembling act (honestly, it was real) and lifted my head.
A white shoe appeared before my eyes.
The toe splattered with sludge.
Above it, the silver-haired girl stood with arms crossed, looking down at me.
"Hey."
"Y-Yes! Mi... no, Lady Noble."
The girl bent at the waist and stared straight into my eyes.
With the most arrogant look imaginable.
"Seen it? My ring."
I'm under suspicion.
...Ah, damn it.
My Adam's apple bobbed.
The ring in my pocket felt like a burning lump of coal.
...Think, think.
Even a thickheaded bastard like me couldn't think now or I'd be dead.
1. Come clean and hand it over.
→ "Here it is."
→ "This fucker stole it, huh?"
→ Wrist-chop ending.
No good,
2. Play dumb.
→ "Haven't seen it."
→ "Hey, frisk this slum rat's pockets."
→ Ring found. Neck-chop ending.
Both bad ends.
Then...
"I'm asking! Did you see it!!"
"...Answer, slum rat."
I deliberately widened my eyes.
"I... I saw it!"
"What?"
"Th-the red one...! The shiny thing, right? The ring!"
The girl's eyes went wide.
"Yeah! Where! Hand it over, now!"
"No, I don't have it..."
I swallowed,
and put on the most wronged expression I could muster.
Then I pointed to the corner of the dump,
at the pitch-black sewer hole.
"There! It went in there earlier...! I saw a rat grab it and bolt!"
"......What?"
"I tried to catch it! But the damn thing was too fast!
Th-that's why the curse slipped out. I missed it..."
Her pale face twisted.
The armored goons exchanged awkward glances,
and the girl, watching them,
"Go... catch it."
"Miss, that place..."
"The entrance is too narrow, probably..."
"He said he saw it! It went in there!!"
She screamed and threw a tantrum.
The knights looked troubled, floundering.
...Now or never.
"Um..."
I raised my hand ever so cautiously.
"......?"
"Shall... I go in?"
All eyes locked on me.
Sharl de Kaintrea.
Of the rough waves and golden lands. Founding hero of the Bellua Kingdom,
monopolizing southern maritime trade and ruling the seas—
the youngest daughter of the Kaintrea Ducal Family.
That noble bloodline now stood
in the filthiest, lowliest place on earth.
"......"
Sharl furrowed her brow.
The rotten stench seeped deep into her lungs with every breath.
She, a duke's lady by name,
couldn't believe she was standing in the heart of a mountain of sludge and trash.
Today's outing had been simple curiosity.
An immature whim to escape the stuffy mansion
and glimpse the "underbelly" of her father's domain.
Peering curiously at the filthy streets through the carriage window—
Bump!
The carriage wheel hit a deep pothole and bounced,
and the ring slipped helplessly from the finger she'd rested on the window frame.
The gift from her mother on her eighth birthday,
and now, at ten years old,
it had become her mother's keepsake—a pretty, beautiful ruby ring.
'I have to find it.'
Father would scold her if he found out.
Might even punish her harshly.
No... more importantly,
she'd lost the last trace her mother left behind—with her own hands.
But... this shithole was stupidly vast.
Over thirty minutes of searching, and no ring.
Her escort knights grimaced, barely nudging trash with their sword tips.
"Miss, it doesn't seem to be here."
"Indeed. Someone might've picked it up, or it fell somewhere else..."
Useless idiots.
They clearly hated getting sludge on their armor and were half-assing it.
As Sharl's patience hit rock bottom,
"Fuck what!?"
...What was this slum rat?
Had he been buried in this sludge the whole time...?
Dressed like trash.
He'd blended right in with the surrounding garbage.
She hadn't even realized he was there.
.....
"Um..."
The boy sprawled flat raised his hand cautiously.
His whole body caked in sludge, only his eyes barely twinkling—a wretched sight.
"Shall... I go in?"
"......?"
Sharl looked down at the boy with puzzled eyes.
You? In there?
Even for a slum dweller,
was crawling into a place like that feasible?
The boy looked scared stiff, too.
Trembling shoulders. Eyes darting anxiously.
"As you see... I'm small.
I can fit through that hole."
The boy mimed crawling in.
His skinny limbs did look like they'd squeeze through.
...But why volunteer, of all things?
"...Tch, never mind."
Sharl turned away.
If he croaked inside, it'd just sour her mood further.
Probably just putting on a show for a few coins anyway.
That was when.
"Actually... it might be dangerous, so I thought about giving up..."
The boy's voice caught her step.
She turned back to see
eyes filled with fear, yet somehow resolute.
"If it's a... precious item,"
The boy swallowed dryly.
"Yes. I'll give it a shot."
"......"
For a moment, Sharl's silver eyes widened.
It wasn't just for the money.
The words "precious item."
Did this lowly boy understand her desperation
at losing her mother's keepsake?
[...Orphan, huh. Makes sense.]
[My mother's sick. Anything edible...]
Come to think of it... he'd said that.
Sharl crossed her arms and reassessed the boy.
A dirty, stinking rat.
But at least in this moment,
he seemed far more useful and loyal than the oafs standing behind her.
"Hey."
"Y-Yes? Lady Noble."
"What's your name."
The boy blinked.
"......Leon."
"Leon. Good."
Sharl untied the leather pouch at her waist.
Jingle. A hefty pouch of silver coins.
Originally meant for the knights' drinks, but the owner had changed.
"Praiseworthy."
Thud. She tossed the pouch at the boy's feet.
"Eat up and find it. If you don't...
I'll split that belly open to get my silvers back, so be prepared."
A clear reward and fear.
That was the Kaintrea family way.
The boy hesitated a moment,
"...I'll do my best."
"No? I said do it."
"...Then, I'll strive to make it happen."
With that, the boy shoved his head into the sewer hole.
A back showing no hesitation.
The small, filthy body vanished into the even filthier darkness.
Sharl stared into the black hole, thinking.
If he actually found it...
On a whim,
one obedient slum brat who listened well.
Fishing him out of the slop bucket didn't sound half bad.
She thought.