Pajeon & Makgeolli (1)
Weather: Heavy rain
Lady's mood: 😑
– The lady doesn't like rainy days much.
– It was the day that bastard crown prince got caught cheating.
– She used to love dashing out to play in the rain barefoot. Such a shame.
– I hope she learns to love rainy days again.
– With that in mind, maybe I should make her some pajeon next.
– Pajeon with wine...?
– No place sells makgeolli around here.
– Guess I'll make some.
So cute. She was insanely cute.
Look at those little legs kicking away.
The lady has no idea how adorable she is. She's like a cat who thinks she's all cool and aloof. I need to snap a photo of her nibbling away with that tiny mouth of hers.
Why doesn't this world have cameras...!
Magic for every damn thing under the sun, but no cameras when you need one. What a load of crap.
A lady-level loss...!
I grumbled inwardly about the unfairness of the world.
After her personal maid arrived and the lady stood to leave, I kept watch from behind a tree.
Hey, it's part of the guarding gig.
Direct descendants of the duke's family always get this kind of shadow protection. You never know when an attack might come.
They tell you to go, but you can't actually leave. So the direct heirs don't know, but we guards rotate in twos or threes.
Which meant my shift was ending soon.
I turned to the slender woman standing behind me, eyes forward.
"Rosie."
"Yeah."
"Just a bit longer—"
"No."
"Aww... "
"Guards have to keep their biorhythms at peak."
"Fiiiine... "
Dejected, I staggered off after the handover.
And now... time to hunt.
"Grrrng—cha!"
"Hela Capital, 7th Street, third alley."
"Got it."
I pushed off with my toes and launched myself.
The scenery whipped by with every step. My hair fluttered in the warm night breeze brushing my forehead.
"Haven't done this in ages."
In the future, no idiots with funny ideas came anywhere near.
Gonna have to tear 'em all apart again.
Back then, I handled guarding solo. Barely needed sleep.
Still need to build my skills, so I'll hold back for now.
Soon enough, the lady's guard spot would be all mine.
"Heh heh."
Grinning like an idiot, I kicked off a few more times. Minutes later, I reached the capital square, about 20km from the mansion.
The execution platform in the center brought back bad memories, churning my gut.
"Fuck."
Need to wrap this up quick and get some lady therapy. Stop the mental pollution!
Shaken but pushing on, I soon found the alley.
"7th... 7th Street, third... ah, here!"
I slipped into the alley. Moments later...
"Hm... more than I expected?"
Cliché masked assassins started popping out everywhere—front, back, even rooftops.
"Such a warm welcome, I don't know where to stand."
"......"
"You mutts, answer when a person talks."
"......"
"Woof woof woof! Arf arf grr, woof woof, woof!"
"......"
"Tch, whatever."
Guess dogs only listen to their retard masters—normal talk's lost on 'em.
I clicked my tongue, drew my sword, and slammed it into the ground.
Squish—
A gurgle rose with the sound of blade piercing flesh beyond the dirt. Crimson liquid, diluted like watered blood, spread in a dull red pool.
"What're you waiting for? Come at me."
"...Fire on my mark."
"...?"
Fire? Like arrows?
Whizz—
No time to question—arrows rained from everywhere: sky, front, even my blind spot.
"Bullshit."
I dodged by paper-thin margins, leaping back. Scrapes grazed my arms here and there.
Finally closing in on one after endless evasion, I grabbed him and shoved him out front.
Arrows turned him into a pincushion.
Pfbt pfbt pfbt—!
"Ngh!"
The apparent leader raised a fist in signal.
"......"
"Whoa~ that was close. Since when do assassins use bows?"
Thud—
One down. No big emotions, but realizing it could be you? Their faces soured. No calm brows in sight.
"Flesh shields are the best, right? You guys agree?"
"...Kill h—"
Whoosh—
Before he finished, I was in his face.
"If you couldn't get me first try—"
Squish—
"Gack...!"
"—there's no second."
Splurt—!
Blood fountained before my eyes. Droplets spattered my clothes and cheeks.
Ah, hate showing her this side.
Gotta wash and air it out good. Bloodstink takes—
"Three days, probably."
"?"
"Not talking to you lot. You're all dying tonight anyway—no point tomorrow."
"...!"
Arrow paths were familiar now.
Clang—!
I batted one aside and charged the archer.
Slash—
...A brief moment passed, like mealtime.
Then the alley filled more with slicing flesh than whistling arrows.
Splurt—
"Hm... "
A low hum blanketed the deep night, bringing silence.
No signs of life around.
I called into the air.
"Cleanup crew? Come out and handle this."
I turned and bolted without waiting. Greedy munching sounds echoed behind, but that was routine.
"Time to head home~"
Grinning like a commuter off shift, I raced back to the mansion faster than I left.
Straight to the guard captain.
Knock knock—
A servant's room not far from the lady's—prime real estate for me, close enough to dash out anytime she calls.
A woman's voice from within.
"Come in."
Creeeak—
A woman in her early thirties, maid outfit on, polishing a sword.
Ah, cognitive dissonance hits.
Still can't believe the captain's her personal maid. First time I saw her as a guard, my jaw nearly dropped.
The flawless protection around the lady? All thanks to this maid, Marie.
Look at that cloth. Brutal.
Mountain of rags behind her, stained different colors—plenty of beasts met their end.
Pretending not to notice, I grinned and slunk in.
"Reporting in, ma'am."
"Quite the noisy fight."
"Haha."
"Numbers?"
"Around thirty?"
"A lot."
"Yeah~"
"Prisoners?"
"You know how it is, Captain. They never talk."
"Wasn't expecting any."
Light chat turned heavy.
Marie tossed her polishing rag onto the pile, snapped her fingers.
Snap—
A shadow bloomed on the floor, devouring the entire heap. The bloody stench faded, leaving faint ink.
So jealous.
Takes me three days to air out blood.
"Teach me that sometime?"
"Stick to your job, cheapskate."
"Tch."
Fair enough. It's convenient, but not essential for combat.
Though what I was about to say? Might make it necessary.
"Captain."
"Yeah."
"Gimme three days off."
"Reason?"
"De-blooding? Don't want the lady smelling it."
Marie pondered, eyes flicking aside.
"Hm. It's late—go."
"...You heard me?"
"Out."
"Yes, ma'am."
Sigh, no wonder she's single.
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing."
Can't read her at all.
Three days later.
Rain poured in sheets, visibility near zero. A girl glared out the window, face sour.
Lucresia Netr. She was in a foul mood.
"Lady Luci."
"What."
"Sir Rio's here."
"......"
She already knew. He'd knocked and announced himself ages ago.
Hate seeing his face.
Infuriating. Ditching her for three days to wander outside.
Sudden vacation?
Wanted to lock him up for it. But after three days apart... she missed him.
The clash rattled her brain.
"Haa... Let him in."
Five minutes standing out there's generous.
She turned to the door, hoping for some reflection. Right on cue, Rio entered.
No displeasure at all—beaming, excited even.
Seeing him so chipper soured her more. Made her feel like the only one upset.
... What am I thinking.
She blinked at him. Pure puppy sunshine.
"I'm here, milady!"
But something was off. Odd things in his hands—nutty, hearty aroma mixed with sweet, fragrant notes.
Lucresia swallowed involuntarily.
"...What's that?"
"Haha! Curious, huh?! If you're curious, it's 300—"
"......"
"...Sorry. It's pajeon. My big new dish."
Nearly killed the mood with a prank for old times' sake.
But her eyes went to the other bottle.
"And that?"
"Heh heh heh. As for this!"
"...This?"
"I made it myself!"
"...You?"
Drumroll—
Rio mimed drums with his mouth. Her patience snapped.
"Marie."
"Yes, milady."
"Chase him out."
"Right away."
"Leave what he brought."
"Yes."
Marie smiled at Rio on command.
She said nothing, just stared. But to Rio, it hammered home:
Get out.
Another tearful banishment.
But his back was all smiles.
Knew it'd happen—prepped an extra in the kitchen.
Heh heh. Short-ferment, but thick enough for a full-term vet.
Or so he thought until the kitchen.
"Gaaack—"
"...My pajeon... my makgeolli......"
"Kyaa— so goooood!"
Never dreamed the head chef would devour it all.