Chapter 12
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 12: An Incomprehensible Walk
“Urgh... I’m dying.”
The day after the match with the Ogre.
One night’s rest was far from enough to soothe the overworked body.
The groans that kept leaking out regardless of my will were no different from those of an old man.
Even though I had grown in a short period recently, it wasn't an easy opponent by any means.
The friction sound of the Ogre’s club cutting through the air seemed to still be hitting my eardrums.
If I had been hit squarely even once, I would have high-fived Charon, the boatman of Acheron.
“But I lived, right?”
Still, I survived.
Without a single injury, perfectly fine.
Dodging well here and there like a rat, I was able to cut off the bastard’s breath.
The spectators burst into laughter seeing that, but who cares. Surviving is what’s important, even if it looks ugly.
‘At this point, isn't it a death game rather than gladiatorial combat?’
To be judged instantly dead just by being grazed. There is no other broken balance game like this.
It would be fine if there was a proper reward even if I suffered enough to die. Then I would have felt at least minimal satisfaction.
But the relief of surviving was brief; what came immediately after was a terrible emptiness.
I fought risking my life, but the VIP actually pulled a no-show.
‘Why on earth didn't this crazy bitch come?’
Ah, I’m doing this again.
I wasn't originally someone with such a foul mouth. I’m a person who stays still even if the jungler uses smite on a cannon minion.
Since coming to the other world, curses keep coming out.
But it can’t be helped!
I’m a person who hasn't even held a kitchen knife in my entire life!
I’m really living drying up day by day!
“...But what?”
The match is boring?
Send out an opponent enough to kill me?
And then she doesn't come?
“Oh, this damn... Haa....”
I was about to curse properly but held it back.
Yes, let’s endure a little.
Irion, you are under a lot of stress. You are doing real mental strengthening properly.
Strong Strong.
Strong is also long.
RISPE is preparing to skyrocket right now.
Let’s think positively.
—Bang!
“Irion!”
“Wah!”
At that moment, the door opened as if breaking. Startled, I jumped up from the bed.
“...Jackson?”
It was Jackson who works at the arena. His main job is running errands for Bardick.
“Knock when you come in. Don’t you know privacy?”
“Slave bastard talking about privacy. This isn't the time to be lying down leisurely. The manager called you.”
“Why suddenly? He told me to rest well until the next match.... Don’t tell me she came?”
“Uh, correct.”
“Ah.”
My eyes squeezed shut for a moment.
Is she really not a psychopath?
She didn't even show her nose during the match, but comes after it’s all over?
Don’t tell me she’s going to say ‘I didn't see it so do one more round’?
Holding anxiety full inside, I ran to the reception room. Inside stood Bardick, Renoa, the escort knight, and a maid I hadn't seen before.
Renoa was sitting diagonally leaning her arm on the sofa armrest, and Bardick was sweating profusely while attending to her.
“Oh, Irion! You came!”
Bardick smiled broadly like a child meeting Santa when I came.
It’s the first time seeing this human liking me this much. If I analyze his expression, the joy value would come out as 0.99999.
“Did you call?”
“The Princess was looking for you.”
I bowed politely to Renoa.
“Hello, Princess. You came late. The match is already over.”
“Seems so. Seeing you alive, you must have won?”
“I was lucky.”
“Don’t tell me he sent out a weak opponent this time too?”
“Sigh, Princess. It was an elite Ogre selected and selected again by experts. Do you know how much money I spent to get that guy.”
At Renoa’s suspicion, Bardick turned pale and defended himself.
Fortunately, Renoa seemed to just throw out the words, passing over it as if it were insignificant.
To think a middle-aged man is floundering before a girl who is at best a middle schooler. I can’t get used to it no matter when I see it.
“So the slave the Lady mentioned is this boy.”
At that moment, the maid standing next to Renoa approached within close distance and stared intently at my face.
Light pink ponytail and brown eyes.
Droopy eyes that look languid.
‘Uh, I know her.’
The exclusive maid who follows Renoa around.
What was her name?
“Is there perhaps a problem with my face...?”
“That is not it, but I think I finally know why the Lady is trying to sponsor you. So this was your taste.”
“Shut up, Bibi.”
Right, Bibi.
It was that name.
“Excuse me.”
Bibi apologized soullessly and stepped back.
I was briefly flustered by her eccentricity, but soon accepted it. Since she often showed a four-dimensional aspect in the original work too.
But what caught my gaze more than Bibi was Renoa. A strange incongruity was felt from her face.
As I was staring intently at Renoa, she narrowed her eyes, feeling the gaze.
“What is it?”
“Yes? No, that is.......”
“Speak.”
Can I say this.
Intuition warns me not to. But since a noble tells me to speak, I can’t keep my mouth shut either.
“That... your face seemed paler than last time. I wondered if perhaps you put on makeup.”
Renoa’s original skin is white to the point of being transparent. Enough to feel pale at a glance.
But today was different. Her cheeks were white as if flour had been spread thinly.
“But thinking it might be a difference in lighting....... I apologize.”
Checking the mood while apologizing, Renoa’s eyes were wide open. It was a look of considerable surprise.
Not only that, even the expressions of the escort knight and Bibi stiffened.
I regretted it immediately.
‘Fuck, I shouldn't have said it as expected.’
For a mere slave to evaluate a noble lady’s complexion. Even if she really put on makeup, that is a problem in itself.
If we were lovers, we could pass over it saying ‘Honey, you are very interested in me?’.
But we aren't.
We are a relationship between a sky-like noble and a slave who would pop out on the other side of the sky after piercing the ground.
‘This lowly slave bastard was looking me over gloomily! Execution!’ It wouldn't be strange at all if she did this.
Renoa, having made a surprised expression, didn't say any words. This silence rather tightened around my neck.
It can’t be helped.
Firing a glance for help to Bardick!
Maaaster! Help me!
“Y-You rude bastard dare speak such absurd remarks to the Princess...!”
“Quiet.”
“Yessir.”
As expected of my master!
You came to save me?
No, I got caught too.
We exchanged the same look.
“Haa....”
Renoa, who cut off Bardick’s fuss at once, let out a long and thin sigh.
If she’s going to get angry, get angry, if not, don't. It felt like my blood was drying up because of the reaction I couldn't understand at all.
“Manager.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“I’ll borrow this kid for a moment.”
“......Yes?”
“Pardon?”
Counter-questions burst out simultaneously from mine and Bardick’s mouths. But Renoa added as if driving a wedge.
“I said I’ll borrow him for a moment.”
Beautiful Girl Raising Simulation Game [Lady Maker].
Although it is a game I enjoyed, I didn't pour thousands of hours into it like in some web novels.
At best 200 hours? I played just enough to see all endings.
Among them, Renoa is a villain character on the opposite point of the protagonist, and her first appearance is at the Academy.
It is safe to say that descriptions before that are nonexistent.
At best, only rumors like ‘They say such a thing happened in the Edelheid Ducal family’.
What I want to say is, I don't know about Renoa as well as I thought.
It is the same now.
‘What on earth was she thinking taking me out.’
Renoa walking one step ahead of me.
She came outside after notifying Bardick that she would borrow me.
Although it’s outside, it’s not above ground but underground.
As the arena is underground, the commercial district around it is active.
Inns, pubs, shops, etc.
We walked that street. People stared and whispered following the path we went.
It was a feeling different from being stared at during a match.
“You. Did you say your name is Irion?”
Renoa, who had been walking for a while, opened her mouth abruptly.
“Yep. I am called Irion.”
“Even the name is like a slave.”
What, you bitch?
It’s a name my grandmother gave me to call comfortably, but it’s like a slave?
“You said you worked in a mine before coming to the arena?”
“That is correct.”
“Before that?”
“I acted as bait in a Guild Expedition.”
“......Before that.”
“Sex slave.”
—Thud.
Renoa stopped walking.
She turns her head to look at me, and that gaze was filled with disgust.
I hurriedly made an excuse.
“The kind of thing you are thinking didn't happen. It happened because the owner mistook me for a girl. I was returned immediately.”
“Mistook for a girl.... It wouldn't be impossible.”
It was what Renoa said scanning my face.
For reference, my current hairstyle is a ponytail. I roughly tied my medium-length hair with a string.
There is no place to cut hair, and I was worried I might ruin it if I cut it roughly myself. And I hate being bald even more. It couldn't be helped.
The investigation continued, intentions unfathomable.
“Then before that? You wouldn't have been a slave from the beginning.”
“I was a slave from birth.”
Since I can’t talk about when I was on Earth, this was the safest answer.
If I make a clumsy excuse, I might get caught in a fault for no reason.
And I didn't exactly lie.
The past weak Irion died, and I was reborn as the strong gladiator Irion in the other world.
“......You and I, we are in no different positions.”
“Yes?”
Renoa threw out words of unknown meaning.
What is this?
High-level deception?
Can our positions be the same. I am a slave like a mayfly who doesn't know when I’ll die, and Renoa is a Lady from a Ducal family.
Ways of tormenting people are truly diverse.
At this point, I suspect she writes it down on a notepad and reads it once before meeting me.
“If you become free and leave the arena, what will you do?”
“I have something in mind for that. First, I think I’ll travel.”
Since it’s a fantasy world, there must be overflowing exotic sceneries unseen in modern times.
“And build a harem too. With pretty beautiful girls....... Hehehe.”
Beautiful girls, elves, beastkin.
Everyone come here!
“.......”
Renoa’s gaze became bad, but who cares? Isekai harem is a man’s rooooomance.
“After doing everything I want, later I will arrange a house and live comfortably.”
I will achieve the dream of home ownership I couldn't in Earth here. Inside there, lovey-dovey with heroines.
Good.
The best.
Just imagining it makes me happy.
“But why this?”
“.......”
“Princess?”
Since she asked I answered, but Renoa’s expression is bad.
For a moment, various emotions flashed through the gaze looking at me.
It was very brief.
As if nothing happened, Renoa put on her usual poker face again.
“Let’s go back. It’s boring.”
Renoa turns her steps back the way we came. Bibi hurriedly chases after her whim.
I stared blankly at that figure.
‘Why is she being like that again.’
Did I make a mistake?
I chew over the conversation just now, but this time I have no clue at all.
Even if I made a big mistake.
‘There is no way Renoa would show such emotions.’
For a fleeting moment, all sorts of emotions were contained in her green pupils.
Surprise.
Annoyance.
Jealousy.
Anger.
Emotions that the Renoa I know would absolutely not harbor, absolutely not show to others.
Such emotions became arrows and were shot at me. Blatantly, as if being hostile to me.
Looking at it, it was extremely stinging.
For what reason on earth Renoa sent such a gaze, for me, there was absolutely no way to know.