An Unexpected Gift
After barely peeling Sangun off me, I set the bundle I'd been handed down on the floor of the hideout.
It was a little bulkier than I'd expected, but I shrugged it off. I'd ordered the thing, sure, yet I was no particular expert on what it ought to look like.
A soft rustle.
“……!”
The instant a clump of hair peeked through the loosened cloth, I regretted every casual bone in my body. It looked like something straight out of a low-budget horror flick, and my breath hitched for no good reason.
“Ah… that startled me……”.
Two seconds later the truth caught up with me, right on time.
This is a wig… right? It is a wig, isn't it? Strength slowly returned to the body that had frozen on pure reflex, and my hand reached out, a little sheepish, to pick it up. Hair planted strand by strand into netting instead of leather—yeah, it had to be a wig.
Hell, that scared the life out of me. I exhaled in relief and gave it a proper look.
Texture that felt like real human hair rather than plant fiber or wool. A soft wheat color that didn't glitter like gold. A tricky length that cleared the shoulders yet never quite touched the shoulder blades. Instead of big dramatic waves, fine little curls that made the whole thing look a touch fluffy and full.
Altogether it was perfectly ordinary. Almost plain.
Still… real hair was supposed to be expensive, wasn't it……?
I poked and prodded the wig, which had gotten a little flattened from the ride in the package. Every time strands slipped through my fingers they only confirmed the human-hair verdict. Compared to the modern world drowning in shampoo and conditioner it was a bit dry, yet still soft and silky enough.
…But why is this even in here? I never ordered a wig. I ordered dye.
Still puzzled, I dug deeper into the bundle. Clatter. A tightly rolled bamboo slip and several glass bottles of dye tumbled free.
“……?”
The dye in the bottles was clearly what I'd asked for. But the bamboo slip?
I untied the cord and checked the contents. The engraving was a little crooked in places, yet the letters themselves were clear and proper. They weren't the script of the Great Forest; they were the outside characters I could read—the ones the system could translate.
…In the course of fulfilling your request, I discovered that ordinary dyes produce poor results, while magical dyes are far too costly for their durability. Therefore, with an eye toward the benefactor’s coming journey, I used the funds you provided to acquire something else. Of course, that may not have been your original intention, so I have also enclosed several bottles of dye…
…You need not worry that the purchase of the wig will cast suspicion on us. It was simply the leftover one obtained when the bald priest bought a piece for himself……
As I read, a quiet warmth began to fill my chest.
He could have just run the errand and been done with it, yet he thought ahead for my sake and found a better substitute……? He even prepared a ready-made excuse in case anyone tried to make trouble over a wig purchase during this stretch of time?
It was more than clever; it was wise. Tears of gratitude nearly rose.
“If I’d known it would turn out like this……”.
Another thought followed hard on its heels.
I’d stuck a million gal in the pouch just in case the dye proved expensive, but if I’d known it would come to this I would have put in twice that—no, three times.
“Lucky I’ve had nothing much to spend money on these past few months……”.
True, I’d paid for inns and meals and the rest out of my own pocket, yet those sums were pocket change next to the fortune I’d once flung at a ruined city for reconstruction.
The money from selling Biryuho’s corpse plus what I’d earned working in Bemyurhen sat in a completely different digit range from what I’d spent. Even if I covered the extra cost of the wig, it wouldn’t hurt a bit. I started weighing how much more to hand over.
“Two million gal ought to cover it, right?”
I would have liked to ask the exact figure, but the Great Chief would never tell me. So I set the price myself and prayed it was more than he’d actually spent.
A soft rustle of hair.
That settled the matter of payment. Wanting to see how it looked on me, I set the wig on my head.
They use pins here too, huh. College theater days had given me just enough practice that I managed without much trouble. The pins inside the netting clicked into place, locking real hair and mesh together firm.
“…Hmm.”
Does it look all right? Can you tell?
I checked the sudden change from dual-tone ash-and-black to ordinary light-brown. Maybe because the original coloring had been so striking, or maybe because I’d relaxed my face, the impression really was different. The eye-patch, the scar at the corner of my mouth, and the eyebrows I still hadn’t dyed would give me away the moment anyone looked closely, though.
“Eyebrows I can manage, but the eyes……”.
Brows and lashes could be covered with dye. Full head of hair would drink the stuff, but a few lashes and brows wouldn’t need much, and even if the color came out a little patchy it wouldn’t show too badly.
Eyes were another story. Hair color, eye color, and any disability were the details people noticed first in a description.
“Both the eye-patch and the heterochromia stand out too much.”
Take the patch off and you get the mismatched eyes; leave it on and the patch itself draws every gaze. Contrary to popular rumor my right eye wasn’t completely gone… I could pull the cheap trick of switching the patch to the left side, but how long would a flimsy bit of confusion last? Best solution was still changing the eye color itself.
I ran a finger along the scar at my mouth while I wondered whether any such item even existed. Designing the character had been fun; hiding the identity later was turning into pure hell.
Eyes, scar—everything. How was I supposed to cover all this well enough that someone would actually praise the disguise?
“…Should I just add more scars?”
I was no good with makeup, so powder was out. Better to burn or otherwise disfigure the area and bury the original mark under new damage.
Trouble was, if anyone spotted me in that state while I was on the run it would only make things worse, and so far this body had never kept a scar for long.
“……”.
So was I doomed to walk around with this constant low-grade panic? Even in a world without CCTV, keeping a secret identity was this hard; how had modern criminals ever managed to pretend they were someone else?
I gave my face a dry wash with both hands. The joy of finally being able to hide my Demon Energy had vanished; only a fresh wave of helplessness remained.
“…First things first—buy a left-side eye-patch and some new clothes.”
At least one thing was certain. Every ridge I crossed would make gathering information that much easier.
I forced myself to picture a brighter future and left it at that.
【Out of all those countless goods, how does one single item simply vanish?!】
【…I have nothing to say.】
【Spare me the excuses everyone can make and give me a proper explanation—an explanation!!】
Ekuya watched the uproar that had erupted the moment he and Sangun decided to procure a wig for their benefactor.
【How many crates of outside goods were there, and how many escorts were assigned to guard them—yet the wig alone disappears without a trace?! Does that even make sense?!】
【We ourselves have no idea how it happened. Truly.】
【If the escort doesn’t know, then who does?! Well?!】
The bald high priest was red-faced and roaring with undisguised disappointment, while the war-chief who had commanded the caravan stood sweating under the barrage. Neither sight was particularly unpleasant to Ekuya. The bald priest had clung to every scrap of power even after Ekuya became Great Chief, and the war-chief was the priest’s loyal lieutenant and enforcer.
【Come now, settle yourselves.】
He did feel the tiniest flicker of pity, of course.
As if the war-chief were incompetent enough to lose a wig on his own.
The man had simply faced the wrong opponent. The one sent to snatch the wig had been none other than Sangun himself—Me me me me me! I’ll do it! Lemme do it! That’s my dream right there, ain’t it?—so the outcome was inevitable. Even if someone else had led the escort, the wig would still have vanished. Naturally, Ekuya had appointed that particular war-chief knowing full well what would happen.
【Everything else arrived intact. Only the wig evaporated without a trace. Surely there must be a reason—perhaps the Forest despises objects made from human hair…】
【That is absurd! Why not simply claim the Forest despises every outside good?!】
【Because the other goods did not vanish.】
Who told them to buy a wig at a time like this? If they had simply forbidden all outside trade as usual—the Forest will be angry, never, absolutely not—none of this damage would have occurred.
【Th-then the escorts must have stolen it! We should investigate every member of the caravan!】
【…That is a baseless accusation!】
【Hmm… the possibility cannot be entirely dismissed…….】
In truth Ekuya was beginning to wonder whether the whole affair was the Forest’s blessing. Helping the benefactor, sowing discord among the conservative faction, and even inflicting financial ruin—word was the priest had spent a fortune—what else could it be but the Forest’s favor?
[Great Chief! Big trouble!!]
【…Lord Sangun?】
Just as the “meeting”—more of an interrogation, really—was dragging on, Sangun thrust his head into the hall. The word “trouble” from the Mountain Lord’s own mouth sent every priest into instant panic; the vanished wig was forgotten in a heartbeat.
【Lord Sangun, we—!】
[Ah, ain’t about that. Just need the Great Chief.]
【Lord Sangun, why take only the Great Chief?! We also—!!】
[If I say no, then it’s no. What, you think talkin’ back to me’s gonna change that? High priest talkin’ outta turn already?]
A few quiet words from Sangun and the priests deflated again. Ekuya adjourned the session until tomorrow and followed with a light step. On the way out he saw the bald priest and the war-chief looking ready to grab each other by the hair—or rather, since one of them had none left, by the collar—and the sight improved his mood still further.
【For what purpose did you call me?】
[The Knight’s leavin’. What’re we supposed to do about that?]
He had already guessed it concerned the Black Thunder Snake the moment Sangun excluded every priest, yet he still hadn’t expected the moment to arrive so soon.
Ekuya fell silent, turning over the problem of yet another person who simply would not stay. This time, regrettably, he had no convenient excuse to hold the man.
“I no longer know what pretext I could use to keep him. Every justification for his remaining here has already been exhausted.”
He did not claim to understand the Demon Knight’s circumstances fully, yet he knew that the instant the man stepped beyond the Great Forest he would lose any chance of peaceful rest. Ekuya had wanted to let him stay as long as possible……
[So in the end we gotta let him go…….]
“We have no choice. All that remains is to pray his road ahead is smooth.”
Ekuya lowered his head, switching languages against any possible eavesdroppers.
They had never even managed a proper conversation, and already the man was leaving. Separate from the lack of any hold over him, the regret sat heavy in Ekuya’s chest as well. If there were any way to keep him, he would seize it.
[Even if you pray, I can’t make it come true…….]
“That is also true.”
Sangun grumbled about the prayer. Faith in the Great Forest centered on the Mountain Lord, yet the Mountain Lord possessed no such lofty power, so the complaint was only natural.
Sangun’s head drooped; Ekuya’s lifted again.
[Then maybe to the Ancestor……?]
[I ain’t got prayer-grantin’ powers either. Creator might, but—]
At that moment Yukgui, who had recovered enough these past few days to float under his own power, drifted into the conversation. No one had noticed his approach.
[Well, even if that one had the power, he wouldn’t be the sort to answer…….]
[Huh?]
“…Creator?”
Yukgui’s sudden arrival was not the important part. His words were.
Both Sangun and Ekuya raised their heads. Creator. That was a word that belonged only to the doctrine of the temples that held sway outside.