Chapter 23
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Adventurer's Private Tutoring for Her -8-
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In Nematos, the incinerator lives up to its name—it's a place to burn trash.
Incinerators exist everywhere, and there's nothing strange about that.
But the issue with Nematos' incinerator is that what they burn isn't the usual trash... it's humans.
The flames of their inhuman incinerator rage day and night without pause.
This happens when they've captured people for use as sacrifices, but their value plummets compared to the labor of transporting them.
Or when their minds are completely shattered and they can't even walk on their own, and so on.
There are quite a few such cases.
They reduce these devalued sacrifices to ash, wiping away traces of black magic and making room for new humans.
It serves as a way for branches hoarding sacrifices indiscriminately to reclaim some comfort and space.
Gornec's corpse had been deliberately dumped by the roadside to ensure early discovery.
'I got pretty lucky. Pinpointing Hell Broom's location thanks to that mustache guy was a big help.'
As a token of gratitude, I'd sent her off painlessly.
There was a chance the route info came from Hell Broom bluffing rather than the mustache, but in the game, the incinerator was the second-highest probability spot for his appearance anyway.
No real reason for him to bluff, either.
So, with the orphanage incident, it seemed better to tie it to the Church rather than drag it out— it'd make things smoother.
If a black mage branch suddenly crumbled out of nowhere, the first suspicion would naturally fall on the Church.
There'd be plenty of black mages and their lackeys keeping tabs on the Church's movements.
Now that things had blown up, they'd be watching obsessively for any unusual activity.
Once the info they gathered spread from mouth to mouth and got verified, it'd reach each branch.
How much time would verification take to confirm it wasn't the Church?
We'd arrive at the incinerator before rumors from the orphanage reached it.
Even if word got out through some channel right away, a low-priority incinerator like this wouldn't see reinforcements—only reductions, if anything.
And the most crucial point.
'Our travel route has no critical loose ends.'
How did we obtain intel on a hidden branch?
No ties to info guilds, Black Circle, or Mendes Pentagram.
The results were plain to see, but the process was a complete blank.
With that gap, we either wouldn't draw suspicion at all or it'd be the last thing they'd suspect.
'Still can't get complacent, so I'll treat it like a time attack and push the pace to wrap it up.'
If there was leeway on the way back, smashing one more unrelated branch wouldn't hurt.
Hopefully, Duke Tristan—steaming mad in our stead—would throw some weight around with the Church.
'The incinerator should have at least one mid-level exec, and if Hell Broom's there, at least two...'
It was a low-priority incinerator in Nematos, so the odds of elites were slim, but not zero.
The mustache guy from the orphanage was manageable, but the world had a way of surprising you.
Prep needed to be even more thorough than now.
I set Rike down under a large tree.
"Let's rest here a bit before moving."
My body had been through intense days without a wink of sleep.
I could last a few more days, but it wasn't peak condition.
"I'm just gonna catch a quick nap—if anything happens..."
"I'll scream or wake you somehow. Sleep easy."
I'd probably sense and wake before her even asleep, but still.
I pulled two vitality potions from inventory, downed one, handed the other to Rike, and leaned against the tree.
'He sleeps too...'
Watching Roman nod off right in front of her, Rike felt a fresh wave of surprise.
People sleeping was normal, but what Roman had shown her transcended human limits.
'Asleep, he looks just like anyone else...'
She observed him slowly.
For some reason, her eyes kept drifting back.
Black hair, crimson-flecked dark red eyes.
His face carried the bold, fierce air befitting his profession and reputation.
A scar split his jaw, but that paled against what lay below.
His hands were covered in fine scars, and glimpses of skin under his clothes showed more.
Like her own wounds, maybe he'd missed the window for potion healing, leaving scars that needed tedious removal.
'How'd he get those scars?'
What kind of life had the man named 'Roman' lived, beyond being an adventurer?
No doubt, far from peaceful.
Despite the small age gap, his power was on another level—there had to be a reason.
His actions and abilities were hard for ordinary folk to grasp.
Dismissing it as mere talent would be an insult.
'I'm curious...'
How did this man become an adventurer?
What kind of people did he hang out with normally?
What stories did they share that just mentioning his name sparked rumors of womanizing?
She couldn't picture it.
From there, her thoughts continued.
Once things at the incinerator were done...
How should she repay this man?
No plans to dodge it.
But could she satisfy him in any way?
A Platinum adventurer would have empire beauties lining up—did she even have that much value?
'...I don't know.'
She really didn't know a thing.
Even giving her this pricey potion—could he really spare it?
No one with ten million gold would toss away ten without a thought.
Pop—
Rike uncorked the vitality potion and sipped it slowly.
"...How long was I out?"
"Not sure exactly, but less than an hour."
Rike had sweat beading on her forehead—practicing her Breathing Technique, probably.
"Grab a quick bite and head out?"
I was using inventory openly in front of Rike now, no hesitation.
Since I'd never pulled anything excessive, she seemed to see it as a skill for handling weapons and consumables.
"Think you can eat something?"
"...The potion filled me up."
Rike was the heartbreakingly skinny type just to look at.
Once this was over, she'd enjoy food and her stomach would grow.
Still half-reclined against the tree, I pulled out dried fruit and jerky, chewing away.
Personally, simple stuff beat greasy or fancy fare during jobs.
Stimulating flavors were great normally, but not now.
"Hm? What's up?"
Rike was staring at me outright for once.
She dropped her gaze at my words, fidgeted with her fingers, then murmured in a tiny voice.
"Just... curious about something..."
Made sense—plenty to wonder about right now.
I hadn't even told her where the incinerator was or how we'd breach it.
"Ask away."
"...Why did you become an adventurer?"
'Huh?'
I froze for a split second, but shook it off quick.
I was used to variables.
This was the opening I'd been waiting for.
I pretended to think, lightly covering my mouth to hide the rising smirk.
"Before I answer—doesn't saying 'adventurer' twice in one sentence feel off?"
"...Does it?"
"Call me whatever's comfy from now on. 'Adventurer' sounds too stiff."
"O-okay..."
I popped the last fruit in my mouth and brushed off my hands.
"Why I became an adventurer, huh."
"If it's too personal, you don't have to say..."
She widened her eyes, realizing her question might've overstepped at my pondering look, but I was set on spilling regardless.
"Nothing that epic to hide... Where to start."
Condensing my life, the origin was clear.
"I was born in some nameless village. Parents were farmers—dunno if they still are."
"I see..."
"Don't remember my age... but a massive famine hit. No rain, bugs everywhere, nothing to harvest."
"Ah... So you started adventuring to earn money and survive the famine?"
Rike had that pure charm.
Marquise life meant she'd never imagine such hardship.
"Wish it were that simple... I was too young."
"Hmm..."
"After days of starving, my parents came home with farm tools. Couldn't eat their own kid, so they'd swapped with the neighbors' to eat theirs? Begged me to understand..."
"...?"
"So I bolted full speed. After that, I wandered villages till I was old enough—cleaning, hauling stuff..."
"W-wait a sec!"
Rike's face had gone ghostly pale.
Finally processing my words literally.
"Yeah?"
"...Parents eating their kids?"
"Nah, not their own—but selling 'em to buy meat."
"..."
"Happens all over the continent even now."
"Sorry... must be a bad memory..."
Recalling the past after so long didn't stir disgust or sadness.
I knew life dealt unequal hands equally, and I'd accepted it since my past life.
"Haha—no need to apologize. Doesn't faze me now... Can't even remember their faces."
"...You're amazing. Will I... ever talk about my past laughing someday?"
I pondered her words.
Hard to answer for others.
"Who knows?"
"Yeah... figured..."
Her face darkened at my reply.
She'd gotten cuter, staring blankly less often.
"Gotta laugh about the past?"
"Huh?"
"I laugh 'cause it's honestly funny looking back. Not sad... Adventurers swap this over drinks laughing."
"..."
Experience told me now was fine.
I gently placed a hand on Rike's head.
She didn't pull away.
Just looked up surprised.
"Feel sad? Embrace it. Cry sometimes thinking back. Pulling yourself together's okay too."
"Overcoming the past isn't forgetting it."
How to convey this cleanly?
My chest itched; I scratched my jaw absentmindedly.
"Hmm—not the best example from my thick skull... but living boldly with it inside—that's overcoming, right?"
"Roman... you're a kind person."
Rike smiled faintly.
First real smile I'd seen—not from the game, but harsh reality.
'I wanna see that more...'
It dazzled; I wanted to see her beaming.
Now that I had something to crave, I stood without hesitation.
Time to wrap this up.