Chapter 163
Chapter 163
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 163
Chapter Title: New Business
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Baron Fleur's private soldiers took over the inn in an instant.
We were all taken aback, unable even to lift our glasses or chat with the person next to us.
"Don't even think about trying anything suspicious."
"The baron approaches—!"
Swoosh.
At that moment, Baron Fleur moved his hand, clad in a black leather glove.
"Don't intimidate them too much. We're just guests here for dinner, after all."
The soldiers, who had been glaring suspiciously in all directions, softened a bit at his words. Still, the awkward atmosphere made it impossible for anyone to take a sip of their drink.
To create such an uncomfortable vibe during dinner, when everyone should be relaxing. It felt like my date with Luna had been ruined, leaving me a little annoyed.
Of course, I couldn't voice any complaints.
I'm just a commoner named Hassan, so I have to watch my mouth around nobles. Me, a citizen of free democratic shit, submitting to a class system like this.
Though, come to think of it, even back in Korea, I toned it down around higher-ups.
That realization made everywhere feel pretty much the same in a weird way.
"Hassan, we've been running into nobles a lot lately...!"
But Luna was whispering like she found the situation amusing. Encountering nobility we wouldn't normally cross paths with was a rare experience, after all.
If a congressman walked into your barbecue joint for dinner, you'd be flustered at first but could brag about it to friends later.
Luna's vibe was exactly like that.
Baron Fleur, wrapped head to toe in black fabric, spoke up.
"My daughter is ill. There's talk of a marriage arrangement with Viscount Clementor of Calcuta soon. I need to resolve this quickly."
"...An illness, you say?"
The innkeeper asked as if he'd misheard.
Murmurs rose around us: "Illness?" "The baron's daughter is sick right now?"
I was surprised too. For a noble to openly reveal such a flaw.
A noble's daughter would be raised high and pampered, destined for a political marriage. Word of an illness would definitely tarnish her image.
At least, that's how the nobles I'd observed in this world over the past two years behaved.
But there are exceptions, it seems.
Was her condition so severe that he couldn't hide it, enough to rush to a slum tavern like this?
Then someone in the inn shot up their hand.
Clank, clink.
The soldiers pointed their swords and spears at him threateningly. But the man ignored them and spoke.
"Baron Fleur, I'm Poorajon, apprentice pharmacist from the South Gate Alchemist Guild. Since the topic came up, may I ask what illness the young lady is suffering from?"
Everyone's eyes and ears turned toward the baron.
A noble's daughter, raised on the finest food and sights—what kind of disease could she have?
I was a bit curious too.
Some local plague? Or a curse?
The baron shattered the growing buzz with a dagger-like statement.
"It's a disease where her breasts are getting smaller and smaller."
"Oh, wow."
"That's awful."
Deep sighs erupted from all around. Mostly from the female adventurers drinking in the tavern. Luna was among the most vehement.
"A disease like that exists...? That's so tragic!"
I'd been picturing something like a brain tumor or leukemia, so this left me oddly deflated.
A breast-shrinking disease? I'd vaguely heard of something like that on Earth.
From a guy's perspective, imagine your prized fruits steadily shrinking. Thinking that way, it really did sound horrific—I wanted to scream. No wonder he was desperately seeking a healer.
Baron Fleur raised his hand and addressed the pharmacist who'd asked.
"Is there a potion to enlarge breasts?"
"...Probably not. If there were, someone would've made a fortune by now."
"Right. Anyway, Valgo. The meeting between my daughter and the viscount's son is next week. I can't wait any longer."
The conversation arrow turned back to the innkeeper. So his name was Valgo. It suited him, but it wasn't the most memorable.
The innkeeper looked extremely troubled.
"Well... It's a heartbreaking story, but..."
"Your wife Echo is—wasn't she a nymph? If a healer can develop a nymph's body to that extent—"
The innkeeper frantically cut off the baron, who was rambling on.
"S-Sir Baron. I'll do my best, but that healer is incredibly busy and doesn't come at set times. I honestly don't know when she'll show up. She's very secretive..."
"I see. Then take this and, if they come this week, tell them to visit here for sure."
Swoosh.
The baron in his black hat nodded exaggeratedly with his chin, and the soldiers sheathed their weapons and swiftly vacated the premises.
The now-empty inn felt eerily desolate, like a frozen winter lake, despite the full tables.
What the hell, shit.
So I went back to chatting with Luna about whether cats were cuter or dogs—
Clack.
The innkeeper brought out a plate of two steaming baked potatoes and set it in front of Luna.
I was about to say we hadn't ordered this when I noticed a small note tucked underneath.
* * *
"Innkeep, calling me to a place like this again. What do you want to talk about?"
I excused myself to the bathroom and slipped away from Luna. The innkeeper had summoned me to that basement room where I'd massaged his wife.
Being here pricked at my conscience like constant damage over time—it made me uncomfortable.
I just wanted to hurry back to the table where Luna was waiting. If this dragged on, she'd think I was up to something big. I hated misunderstandings like that.
"I'm busy, so let's make it quick."
The innkeeper, who'd been pacing anxiously, froze at my words.
"Mr. Samaritan, I've reached my limit gauging this on my own. The baron himself came to the shop."
"Ah—"
"Damn, with all the new customers lately, I'd forgotten. Didn't expect him to show up in person. So, any chance you could help?"
"Help with what?"
"You know, like with my wife Echo. Can't you fix the baron's daughter too?"
I recalled what I'd done to the innkeeper's wife. In this cramped basement, I'd kneaded her breasts. Touching another man's wife.
Honestly, the memory was like a thorn in my palm—it stung my conscience every time I thought of it.
"Help how?"
"You want me to enlarge her breasts?"
And could you even do that in the first place? With Echo, it was some growth-stunting curse or whatever, and massaging her breasts had lifted it.
Who could've predicted her breasts would balloon and her whole body would develop into a sleek figure?
Or that it'd bring nobility knocking as karmic payback.
"Anyway, I'm swamped with inn work too, so let's wrap this up. How about giving it a try at least? Here's the note the baron left."
Swoosh.
The innkeeper handed me a small scrap of paper.
I took it absentmindedly.
Now that I looked, it wasn't paper—it was a white silk handkerchief embroidered with red thread petals. Much fancier.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"It's a red tulip. The Fleur family crest. Show it to the guards at his mansion, and they'll let you in."
Like an all-access pass to a noble's estate? A VIP ticket to aristocracy?
Never thought I'd get one in my life.
It was thrilling, but worry crept in too.
Getting tangled with nobles could be dangerous. Us little folk find high society pretty scary.
As I crumpled the handkerchief into my pocket, the innkeeper added,
"Mr. Samaritan, if you're going to see the baron, hide your identity. He's a good man, but he despises foreigners and barbarians."
"A racist, you mean?"
"There's context, they say. I don't know the details, but he's second to none in hating outsiders. One of the few hardline conservatives in the Sodomora Council."
People hating barbarians and foreigners aren't rare in this world. Hell, I hate shit barbarians and outsider scum myself.
My top pet peeves are racism and uneducated savages.
"Still, it won't be a bad deal for you. The baron's known for his generosity. Solve this right, and you could make a killing."
"Generous how generous?"
"Rumor has it he paid a healer one gold coin for treating a beloved horse. Fix his daughter's illness, and you might get a whole pouch of gold."
A pouch of gold coins?
A typical pouch holds about fifty coins.
So, fifty gold?
Shit, fifty gold—the enchanting clink echoed in my ears, making my vision swim.
That could cover Hippolyte's Aura Crash Course for thirty-six months upfront, with change left over. Assuming I could actually enlarge healthy breasts, of course.
Suddenly, I felt confident I could pull it off.
"Alright, I'll give it a shot. But keep this quiet, like always."
"You got it. You and I are in this together now, right? I'll take it to my grave."
The innkeeper was someone I could talk to straight. I thought about calling him by name instead of "innkeeper," but I'd forgotten it, so innkeeper it stayed.
* * *
When I returned, some unfamiliar guys were hitting on Luna.
It happened often since she was pretty enough to draw approaches, so it wasn't surprising anymore. Still pissed me off every time.
Small and petite, with pink hair giving an exotic vibe—maybe that's it?
They say Indian guys swarm foreign women in India; this felt just like that.
"I'm a rising Bronze Tier adventurer. Ever heard of Baremiz? The dual-axe Baremiz. Took out ten goblins at once recently."
From his talk, he was Bronze Tier. His back had a hefty axe crossed in an X—perfect for chopping firewood, and it looked legit.
Like a hotshot rookie on a roll from nonstop quests?
Not the handsomest guy, but he had that bold, confident swagger unique to upbeat men. Probably pretty strong.
"I've taken a vow of chastity. I have a fixed party! My companion's coming back soon, so scram!"
Luna put up her usual iron wall, just like always. They call it going full fortress mode?
Watching her stirred pride in my chest—we had something special—and a swell of affection.
But this pumped-up rookie's persistence was no joke.
"I'll be Gold Tier someday. Vows like that don't apply to me."
"But they apply to me? Get lost before I snap your spine in half."
As I approached with a gruff aura, the guys jumped.
"Holy shit, it's Samaritan!"
The bronze tags around their necks jingled wildly. Mine was bronze too, of course.
"L-Let's go."
"S-Sorry, didn't realize he was your party member. Our bad."
The gap between them and me was pretty wide. They must've sensed it.
Sure, some idiots ignore hints and pick fights out of macho bravado around girls.
But this bunch had good instincts and bailed quick. Knowing when to fold makes them decent adventurers.
Plenty of adventurers die because they can't tell when to quit.
"No, wait. Hold up. This isn't how we leave."
Rustle.
Just as I thought they were gone, the dual-axe guy turned back toward me.
This bastard, not giving up and picking a fight now? I was sliding my hand to my club when—
"Excuse me, you're Hassan of Samaria, right? Could I get your autograph?"