I'm Not a Hero, Though (1)
To cut to the chase, the move went smoothly.
It was only natural, really.
What luggage did we even have to carry?
A handful of worn-out clothes and some miscellaneous junk.
Plus the housewarming gifts from the hotel owner.
Even all together, two people could haul it with their bare hands.
In a world like this, there were no moving companies anyway, so having next to nothing was a blessing.
If we'd had more, we'd have been shuttling back and forth for thirty minutes in this muggy, humid weather.
Of course, using my ability in moderation would've made it easier... but powers aren't free—they drain stamina. If anything, they demand concentration, which wears on the mind even more.
I'd probably be flat on the floor of our new office right now, not just sweating like this.
"Mister, is this... our house?"
"More like an office."
If I planned to scrape by on hunting alone, I'd have demanded a house. But I figured an office suited us better.
A real house? Good luck finding one that's not a hassle to maintain. Cheaper to set up shop and carve out a living space in the corner.
We got a whole two-story building, so the second floor for living quarters. Easy.
I gazed up at the gray building, its musty aura thick with age.
The walls were a mottled mix of gray and brown—courtesy of an Alligator Gang concrete manipulator's patchwork.
It had that abandoned-ruin vibe, sure, but owning a building in this era? Can't complain. Facilities aren't top-notch, but...
We could tap the gang's generated electricity, and the rooftop tank meant water for two—as long as we didn't waste it.
Downside: outskirts of Alligator turf, so security's dicey. But that's a fair trade.
My dream of homeownership achieved, after all.
Pre-possession, apartment prices swung wilder than my paycheck. Unthinkable.
Grateful for what we got.
They even patched it up.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Short hallway, a couple doors, stairs.
Two doors—one's gotta be the bathroom.
"Let's stash the stuff upstairs."
"Second floor living?"
"Better. First floor, windows show everything. Guests climbing up anyway."
Office downstairs for foot traffic. Plus, living below while working above? Floor noise issues.
...Would it even be that bad?
Gotta test it sometime.
"Mister, can I look around?"
Mina gazed up at me with sparkling eyes, excitement bubbling over. Eyes brimming with life—nothing like the original story.
Moments like this, I knew bringing her along was right.
If I'd ignored her... she'd be...
"Mister?"
"Oh, yeah. Go ahead."
"Come with me, Mister."
"Wouldn't miss it."
We headed into the second-floor rooms. Spacious—emptier than expected.
Three rooms, decent living room, kitchen tucked in the corner... Gas hookup?
At least a ratty sofa in the living room. Gave it some homey feel.
Bare walls otherwise? Kinda off-putting.
Expecting more here's a luxury, though.
"Pretty empty, huh?"
"Better than where I grew up."
What kinda life was that?
Looks desolate. Pre-possession, I'd scoff at calling this a home. But world's half-collapsed—whatever.
"Back then... narrower than this. Was it even a house? That shack blocked neither cold nor heat."
Shack. Saw pics as a kid, never inside—docs only.
Rough.
"This? Heaven. My room... big, sturdy. Floor won't give way mid-step."
Floor caves in?
What was it made of?
"Mister, which room you want?"
"Pick first. Size doesn't bug me."
"You take the big one."
"Yours if you want."
"You take it. This is plenty."
I eyed the big room she'd pointed out, then the small one.
Big: bed-sized space, otherwise void.
Small: ditto, one bed.
Gray Forest scavenging for furniture a must.
One bed per room? Too stark.
Table, wardrobe at minimum. Clothes first, though.
"The bed... so soft."
Mina plopped on the big bed, flopped back, awe-struck. My eyes prickled.
Every word she says tugs.
I forced out a reply.
"...Beds are soft. That's the point."
"...Lab beds were hard."
...Fair.
We wrapped up the rooms and returned to the living room. Not much to see, and office next.
Down the stairs.
First-floor office door.
Inside: surprisingly office-like, better than upstairs.
"Chairs, table here."
"Desk too. Chairs galore..."
Where'd they snag these gaudy ones?
I sank into an ornate chair, savoring the cushion.
Creaked a touch, but held firm.
Just-right plushness.
Not luxury-sink, but solid.
From the chair, I scanned the office.
Layout like the boss's—worn, but serviceable. Sofa, table, desk: mood-setter.
"Fancy office."
"Fancy?"
"Upstairs? Bare."
"True."
Scarce world—grateful.
Mina seemed content enough.
"Building checked. Now money-fill upstairs."
"Got cash?"
"Not heaps. Hunt on, earn steady."
"I wanna keep hotel gig."
Hotel. Decent trek, tiring. Safe zone, though—less worry.
"Your call."
Overprotecting's no good.
Not her dad—can't chain her.
Won't fully bankroll forever; can't nix work.
Boss solid, low drama.
"Now what?"
"Unpack... nada."
Five minutes tops, bedtime.
"Downtown, scout buys. Got good payout."
War-scarred bills still good.
Author fiat or Seoul standard? Mystery.
Money's what counts.
"Ready?"
"Yeah!"
Grab grub en route, clothes if decent... Mentally listed as I keyed the office shut.
From the keyring, unclipped two for Mina.
"Office key, house key."
"...Thank you."
She stared blankly, clutched them to chest, bowed deep.
Odd. About to ask—tear traced her cheek.
"You okay?"
"...Yeah. Really happy."
If she's thrilled...
I watched her wipe it with her hand.
"Let's go?"
"Yeah."
We locked the new nest's door.