Merchant Escort Quest #8

I returned to the bridge where the caravan waited, with Kate walking beside me.

We'd simply followed the river upstream, so there was no real risk of losing our way. Partway back, we ran into the adventurers the caravan had sent out to search for us and walked the rest of the way together. The moment the adventurers laid eyes on Kate, soaked and weary, they swarmed her with fawning concern — and Kate looked thoroughly unimpressed by the whole display.

"Sister! We were so worried! It's such a relief to see you back unharmed, truly. The current was so fierce that we simply couldn't—"

"Enough."

"P-pardon...?"

"Quiet, please. I'm wet, and I'm tired."

"Ah, understood! Sister!"

The instant Kate snapped at them with that sharp glare, the bootlickers scattered like startled ants. She had every right to be pissed. Adventurers who normally acted like they'd hand over their own livers if she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asked were suddenly nowhere to be found when real danger hit. The moment she fell into the river, I was the only one who'd jumped in to save her.

Not that I'd jumped in out of the goodness of my heart or anything.

Still, just because she'd brushed off those adventurers didn't mean Kate suddenly drew closer to me. She still kept a careful, measured distance between us. She still flinched anytime I stepped too close without warning.

But there was one small change.

"...Ah."

Whenever our eyes met now, Kate would awkwardly dip her head in a tiny nod of acknowledgment. Compared to the days when she'd treated me like I didn't exist, this was unquestionably an improvement. Whether a silent nod actually counted as good treatment, I couldn't say — but for an incubus who was used to women recoiling on instinct, getting even that much greeting from a nun didn't feel half bad.

"You little heal-slut."

"I am not a heal-slut! My name is Kate!"

And occasionally provoking her was just good entertainment.

Watching her bristle and tremble with indignation every time I called her a heal-slut never got old.

Before too much time had passed, Kate and I reached the bridge and parted ways. She headed back toward the wagons, and I made for the spot on the bridge where the owlbear's corpse still lay.

But the moment I stepped onto the bridge, my expression twisted with incredulity.

"Luke! Look at this!"

Rebecca was standing there holding an enormous chicken foot. Well, technically, since it came from an owlbear, it was an owl's foot. She was waving around an owlbear talon the size of a greatsword, thoroughly pleased with herself.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I ripped the foot off that giant owl! If I sell this at a general store, it's gotta be worth something, right? Judging by the size, I figure I can get at least twenty copper—"

"That's not worth anything."

"What?"

Rebecca's eyes went perfectly round, like she'd just been dealt a devastating blow.

The moment I saw that look, a peculiar fragrance drifted into my nostrils.

The scent of lewdness wafting from every direction.

That was the unmistakable stench of a newbie — impossible to conceal.

The kind of face that hit a veteran like an aphrodisiac, a drug that set the loins ablaze.

My lower half went heavy in an instant.

Fwoom. Fwoom.

'She's so clueless I could bust without even getting hard.'

There she goes again, that newbie bitch, pumping out that lewd scent.

"It's not, not worth anything? But it's this huge! Don't adventurers make money by selling monster corpses?"

"Kghh...! People are watching you and laughing. Put the owl foot down."

"O-oh, you're right."

Rebecca felt the eyes of the surrounding adventurers on her and hurriedly dropped the talon she'd been clutching.

"Keheh, now there's an adorable newbie."

"That lewd newbie smell is something else."

The adventurers watching Rebecca wore knowing smirks and muttered among themselves. It wasn't malicious mockery — just the kind of involuntary laugh that slips out when a newbie does something spectacularly clueless.

I waited for my arousal to subside before I opened my mouth to speak.

"Not every monster corpse part is worth money. The only parts that sell are the ones used as alchemy reagents or materials that can be easily processed into equipment. By that standard, an owlbear's foot is completely useless. No one buys them, so you'd be hard-pressed to get even a single copper for it."

"This massive thing... not even one copper."

"The meat would sell, but if you butchered it, it'd spoil long before we could haul it to the city. The only thing on that owlbear worth any money is the feathers."

"Ha. Life is pain."

Rebecca let out a deep sigh and reached toward the ground. She scooped up the bundled pile of feathers and held it out to me. These were the feathers I'd knocked off the owlbear with my Water Whip during the fight. The spoils, by rights, belonged to the one who'd stripped the feathers off — me. Rebecca knew that well enough; that's why she handed the bundle straight over. Though she was staring at me with just a hint of expectation in her eyes.

"Good work gathering those up. I'll toss you a bonus."

"Oh—."

I didn't betray her expectations, flipping four copper coins her way. Eyeballing the bundle of feathers, I figured they'd fetch around twelve copper, so I'd handed over thirty percent of that. Besides, if Rebecca hadn't picked them up, they'd have gotten mixed into the feathers other people were plucking, and claiming ownership would've been a nightmare.

"That work for you?"

Rebecca bowed her head, visibly pleased.

To make such a hopeful face over just four copper — truly the expression of a newbie adventurer through and through.

I wondered if I'd get a long, handwritten thank-you letter if I gave her a whole silver.

I shoved the bundle of feathers into my pack and entertained the thought.

I pulled my shirt back on and layered my leather ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠armor over it, and before long, it was time to move out.

The other adventurers had already hauled the owlbear's carcass out of the way. The caravan crossed the bridge and set off toward the trade city.

*

By the fifth day of the journey, the caravan reached the trade city without any further major incidents.

The city's name was Barca.

Barca served as the nexus connecting the royal capital with the surrounding towns and cities. It was a major metropolis, far larger than Yoen-su. Just the sheer time it took to get through the city gates hammered home the scale of the place.

A long line of cargo wagons stretched outside the gate.

Most of them belonged to merchants trying to get into Barca. Rebecca, standing beside me, stared at the sprawling queue and the teeming crowds with open wonder.

"All these people are trying to get into the city today? That's insane."

"It's a trade city. Merchants from everywhere gather here. Once we're inside, there'll be plenty to see. I've heard there's even a real dwarven smithy at work in there."

"What's a dwarf?"

"Uh... they're short, stocky little bastards. Utter savants who know nothing but hammering out weapons. They say dwarves pick up a hammer at their own first-birthday parties."

"They pick up a hammer at their first-birthday party? Doesn't that mean they can craft a damn fine weapon at the very least? Can we ask them to make us one?"

"No. It's expensive. A single handcrafted dwarven weapon costs several dozen silver coins, minimum."

Those dwarven bastards in this world definitely had mommy issues.

The little runts would grab any scrap iron, hammer it half-assedly, and then charge you silver because it was "dwarven-made."

Hell, in that case, maybe I ought to craft some sex toys and sell them as "incubus-made."

A handcrafted onahole, personally crafted by an incubus.

A custom dildo, molded straight from an incubus's cock.

'Oh. That might actually sell.'

The thought that there might genuinely be demand for it gave me a strange feeling. Imagining some delicate noblewoman using a dildo I made... yeah, that was kinda hot.

Then again, the moment I actually made one, I'd probably get arrested for public indecency.

"I really want to go see these dwarf demihumans soon—. Just looking at other races is super fascinating to me."

Rebecca chattered beside me, her expression full of anticipation. I wanted to go sightseeing with her and check out the dwarves too. Seeing a master-craftsman race like the dwarves in the flesh wasn't an everyday occurrence.

The caravan had decided to stay overnight in Barca.

It would take time to sort through all the goods they'd hauled here by wagon. Setting out for Yoen-su late at night would be reckless anyway. Once we'd entered the city, the middle-aged merchant finally secured lodgings for the adventurers.

A cheap inn near the city gate.

A shared multi-person room, at that.

A reasonably spacious room packed with twenty people all at once — just being inside was suffocating enough to drive a man insane. I genuinely wanted to punch the brainless merchant who'd booked this place.

Well, it was still better than sleeping on the street, I supposed.

"I can't take this. I'm going outside."

"Me too."

Loitering outside until it was time to sleep seemed like the better play. The merchant had already taken the jam I'd been keeping safe — he was off to sell it. That meant my task of refilling the water every two hours was finally over. I was no longer tied down to one spot.

I headed out onto the street with Rebecca.

The streets of Barca teemed with all manner of demihuman races.

If I had to liken it to something from my past life, it felt exactly like stepping into an international city.

"You said you wanted to see the dwarves, right?"

Rebecca hesitated for a moment at my question.

The excited energy she'd had earlier had, for some reason, dimmed a little.

"I do want to see them, but there's something I want to take care of first."

"What is it?"

"I, uh, I want to wash up—."

Rebecca fanned herself with her palm as she said it. A small bead of sweat traced down her cheek.

Unlike me, Rebecca had been marching nonstop for five days straight, so it was only natural she'd feel sticky and gross from the sweat.

Given that she usually smelled pleasant, Rebecca clearly cared a great deal about cleanliness.

I'd gone a full month without washing back when I was adventuring on my own, though.

A newbie, on a quest, wanting to indulge in the luxury of a bath?

Then again, maybe I was just the one who'd been living like a slob.

"Fine. Let's hit a bathhouse for a bit."

Rebecca and I asked some locals for directions and headed toward a public bathhouse in Barca. Fortunately, we found a decent one not too far from our lodgings.

Using the public bathhouse cost money.

The entry fee was three copper.

Getting clean meant paying about the same as a single meal. I'd expected as much, but hearing the fee from the bathhouse attendant still stabbed at my heart.

But if my party member wanted to wash up, how the hell was I supposed to bow out alone?

Getting branded a filthy bastard by Rebecca didn't sit right with me either.

Having come this far, I had no choice but to fork over my blood-bought coins and step inside the bathhouse.

Jingle—.

"Thank you, sir!"

Inside the bathhouse, I scrubbed myself down.

As I walked in with my oversized cock swinging freely, I couldn't help but notice the startled looks from the other patrons.

Unfortunately, public bathhouses on the Midgard Continent were divided into separate men's and women's sections.

Showing off my elephant trunk in front of the ladies was out of the question.

A shame — I could even do a trick where I'd spray water out of my nose if someone asked.

I'd been soaking my body in the warm water for a long while, letting the heat seep in, when it hit me.

'Wait.'

As I sat chest-deep in the bath, a critical fact suddenly resurfaced in my mind. It was one of the fixed-party rules I'd completely forgotten about in the meantime. According to the rule we'd established on the very first day of forming our fixed party, I was currently owed a debt from Rebecca.

'Hasn't she passed ten questions by now? Even if I don't count that one about the dwarves earlier, we've definitely hit the quota, haven't we?'

Rebecca and I had explicitly set this rule when we formed our fixed party:

Whenever the number of questions Rebecca asked about adventurer work surpassed ten, I would earn the right to make a small, light request of her.

The rule existed because I wasn't about to hand over information I'd bled and sweated to obtain for free.

I'd set the rule and then completely blanked on it this whole time.

Somewhere along the way, the number of questions had crept past ten. Rebecca was insatiably curious and had a habit of pestering me about even useless things, so that was no surprise.

Even if I only counted the questions that had genuinely valuable answers, it was easily more than ten.

"Hmm. A light request, huh."

So at this very moment, I now had the right to ask Rebecca for something.

That didn't mean I could ask ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for anything, of course.

If I pushed it too far, she'd obviously shoot me down on the spot.

I'd baked that clause into the rule from the start.

If she wanted to refuse the request, she could just pay me five copper instead.

And just getting handed a few coins would be boring as hell. In this kind of wager, nothing was less satisfying than someone paying the penalty and calling it done.

I wanted to make a request at the exact threshold where the ever-wary Rebecca would actually say yes.

So what could I ask that she'd agree to without too much resistance?

Something that wouldn't make her recoil in disgust, but would still satisfy my sordid desires—.

I mulled it over in the bath.

Immersed in the warm water, my mind spun with startling speed. If I'd studied with this kind of brainpower back in my past life, I might've shattered the gates of Seoul National University. After racking my brain until it felt hot, I finally found my answer.

"That's it."

The moment the idea crystallized, I launched myself out of the bath.

I dried off, threw my clothes on in a frantic rush, and strode out of the building.

A short while later, I met back up with Rebecca on the street.

"Ahh, that feels amazing."

Rebecca stretched luxuriously, her expression refreshed and satisfied.

The arch of her posture made the soft swell of her breasts stand out prominently.

A pleasant fragrance drifted from her body, fresh from the bath.

"All clean? Good. Now let's go check out those dwarves."

"Hold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on. Before that, I've got a request to make."