Lodging and Food
"Things around Yeongcheon aren't looking good these days, are they? There's only my father and me at home. He's so elderly that if ruffians break in, there's no one to protect us."
She explained her circumstances as we walked.
"Your husband or children...?"
It was a bit rude, but the question slipped out anyway.
"My husband... he died. Of the plague."
Damn, I shouldn't have asked.
"He passed before we could have children, and my in-laws too. A pestilence swept through the village..."
In this era, such tragedies were commonplace.
Wars raged everywhere, people starved. It was the perfect breeding ground for disease.
She recited her tragic life story like a poem—how she'd fled back to her family home and settled here in Yeongcheon with her father.
Was she from a well-off family in the past?
Her speech was so refined, almost archaic in its elegance.
Whatever. Not important.
"..."
A beauty like her, barely scraping by in these times. Being born so beautiful was no blessing—it was a curse. No doubt she'd been hounded by one annoyance after another until she couldn't take it anymore and hired a guard.
"I can fend off thugs or ronin, but if the imperial troops get involved, there's nothing I can do."
Years as a mercenary had drilled realism into me. I wasn't some hero. I knew exactly what I could handle and what I couldn't.
"Imperial troops..."
Her face darkened.
The imperial troops were just thugs backed by the imperial court. If some officer or high-ranking soldier took a liking to her, there'd be no stopping it. Resisting would just brand her a criminal.
"Yes, I understand. Just keep out the thugs and ronin."
She nodded weakly.
"Got it. We'll do that, then."
That was easy work. Standard guard duty for a mercenary.
As we walked, neither of us asked for names. One of us might be dead soon enough, and it was just a short arrangement anyway. Skipping introductions was a mental health hack.
The spear mercenary I'd fought beside during the caravan escort—if I'd known his name, it would've hurt more. Names have a way of sticking.
I half-jokingly imagined the white-haired beauty was some demon luring me to an isolated spot to rip out my liver.
Ridiculous fantasy, even for me. But her beauty had that eerie quality to it.
Fantasy aside, reality was a rundown mansion.
It must've been grand once, but over half had collapsed, leaving barely half usable—a dilapidated ruin. This was her home.
"Father. I found a guard."
She approached an old man coughing in a dusty corner of the room. That had to be her father.
Anyone could see he's an old man, but probably mid-40s or 50s. Maybe 60 if he was lucky. People aged fast in ancient times compared to modern standards. Malnutrition and overwork did that.
"...Hmph. A swordsman, eh."
The old man eyed me sharply, full of suspicion.
"Provide a place to sleep, and I'll guard this house."
It was natural to be wary of a strange armed man. I kept my tone as friendly and approachable as possible.
"Fine. Better have the skills to back it up. I don't want to see my daughter raped by thugs before I die."
The old man turned away, leaning against the wall as he hacked up phlegm-filled coughs.
"This way. I'll show you to your room."
She gave her father a light bow, then led me to a half-collapsed shed near the courtyard.
Honestly, it was more storage than bedroom, but for guard duty, it was perfect. Anyone coming from the outer buildings had to pass through here first. I could block them easily.
I set down my bundle—sword, herbs, coins—and settled in.
Gonna have to sleep lying down here.
Standing up, my head hit the ceiling. How low was it?
***
For guard jobs, room and board were standard. But in this godforsaken era, that "standard" often didn't apply.
Lodging without food was common enough. Simple reason: no food to spare.
The only sure meals came from fighting on battlefields, where you got army rations.
I could tell the old man and woman were boiling millet porridge in their room from the smell.
As evening fell and faint light flickered from their doorway, I pulled out my pouch of parched grain.
Crunch crunch.
I chewed the slightly burnt grains like animal feed. No real flavor, but the longer you chewed, the sweeter it got.
After that meager nutrient top-up—not quite a meal—I lay down and tried to sleep.
Tomorrow, find more work.
***
I thought the day would pass uneventfully, but noise jolted me awake. Someone had come after all.
Couldn't complain, though. Life's a zero-sum game. Score free lodging, and misfortune balances the scales.
Clunk.
Sword at my waist, I stepped outside.
Three near-bandit thugs were prying at the doors, intimidating the people inside.
"We even brought payment, huh? So why act so high and mighty?"
"Let's all just part in peace, yeah?"
"Old man, just give us the girl, and we'll guarantee your safety. Even stand guard for you. Deal?"
Real thugs. No wonder she hired a mercenary—these incidents were routine.
Creeeak.
"I told you, I won't do that."
The white-haired beauty glared at them, firm and unyielding.
"Get out!! Generals Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun will be here soon!!! When they arrive, I'll tell them myself and have you..."
The old man raged at the thugs too.
"Hah! Think those big shots will listen to you? Huh?"
The thugs laughed uproariously and barged in, grabbing the white-haired beauty's hand.
"Hey. Stop."
Time for the mercenary to step up. Earned my keep.
"Who the hell are you?"
Their eyes turned to me.
"The mercenary they hired. Leave quietly, and I won't kill you."
Hand on my sword hilt, I stared down the bearded one who looked like the leader. Strongest, too.
Three on one—not easy, but doable. Years of mercenary work weren't down the drain.
"Ha. Got a feisty one here."
The big brute drew his cleaver and lumbered toward me.
"Kyaa...!"
Sensing the violence, the white-haired beauty squeezed her eyes shut and let out a quiet scream.
The cleaver swung, but it was slow.
Thud.
I kicked off the ground, slipped inside the fat guy's guard, and slashed deep across his gut.
Spluuurt!!!
His belly split open, body crumpling as blood poured out. He convulsed, spewing gore, then slumped lifeless to the ground.
"You want more?"
Two left. How would they react?
"Ha! Got some spirit on us!! Come on!! Let this old timer teach you a lesson!!"
The strongest-looking one drew his sword and charged with all his might.
Definitely tougher than the last.
Claaaang!!
Not confident in striking first, I parried defensively, angling my blade to block his trajectory.
His body wobbled as our swords locked. I seized the gap, smashing my sword's ridge and hilt into his nose bridge with full force.
Thwack.
He clutched his nose in pain—should've toughed it out.
Spluuurt!!!
As he staggered, I slit his throat.
Seeing his two comrades dragged to the afterlife, the last one trembled.
Flick.
I flicked my bloodied sword; he got the message and bolted.
"Th-thank you..."
The white-haired beauty rushed toward me in relief, then tripped on the floor. Tension released, her legs gave out.
I caught her instinctively before she fell, helping her up.
"Ah... Thank you."
Her face flushed crimson—embarrassed by the near-fall and being held.
"Thanks."
The old man nodded gruffly, his gratitude clear despite the tone.
"Just doing the job. No need for thanks."
I said that, but it felt good anyway.
Now, deal with the bodies. Easy enough. Corpses littered the land. Dump them on a pile, and cleanup was done. War meant no one investigated every death.
No officials poking around either.
Killing small-time punks like these wouldn't get me wanted. Needed to off someone important—a salt merchant or official—for that. Chaos had its perks.
"That said... one got away. You okay with that? He might bring friends."
Still blushing, she asked with a worried look.
"We need someone spreading the word. 'Mess around here, get your head chopped off.' That'll deter them."
Even lowlifes valued their necks. Dangerous spots got reputations fast. Once that stuck, fewer visitors.
"What if they all come together...?"
"Should be fine."
They weren't an organized bandit gang—just loose thugs. No way they'd risk it all for one mystery ronin and a woman.
"If anyone else shows, I'll handle them."
I reassured the old man and woman, then returned to my shed. Worried about more interruptions, but luckily, none came. I greeted a normal sunrise.
Waking to the crisp morning air as the sun rose, stretching, I heard voices from beyond the shed.
"Sir, if it's alright, would you join us for breakfast?"
An unexpected offer from the woman.
I knew what sharing food meant in this brutal world.
Guess I've earned a little trust.
Better not betray it.
"Thank you. I'll be right there."
I buckled on my sword, got ready. Day two in Yeongcheon dawned a bit warmer.