Footsteps of the White Whale
After killing time in the forest of White Whale's Footsteps, we returned to the village and sought out the village chief. He was the lead client for this request, after all.
The villagers had gathered at the chief's house, waiting with him for our return. They must have been deeply concerned about that tremendous roar.
Janet reported the results to them. She even spoke casually to the elderly chief.
"Whew... we came that close to disaster."
"If that monster had gotten any closer to the village..."
"What luck, what luck... the mercenary band arrived at just the right moment..."
"R-Really? A monster that big near the village?..."
"If you're skeptical, go see the traces yourself."
The village chief and the villagers headed to the site of that "battle." They beheld a clearing littered with countless fallen trees.
"Wh-What is this..."
"My god..."
The bloodstains scattered here and there, along with the splintered trunks, completely dispelled the clients' doubts. A few approached the downed trees, peering at them in wonder... but they didn't realize this was human workmanship.
If I'd smashed a tree with a single punch to show Chris at the end, the fist mark might have lingered. But I'd pulverized it with dozens of strikes. Since my fists had hammered the same spot repeatedly, any trace of them was smeared beyond recognition. Even the sharpest eye wouldn't peg this as man-made.
The one tree I did shatter in one go to impress Chris might have a mark, but who would suspect just one out of over a hundred?
Even if they noticed something odd, it would be after we'd left. No reason to return to this village anyway. No need to worry about these folks.
"You said you didn't manage to kill it in the end...? What if it holds a grudge and attacks the village again?..."
"Nah, the monster I know is a cowardly type with no attachment to territory. No need to worry."
"Phew... th-that's a relief."
The chief surveyed the logs scattered around. From the village's perspective, it wasn't such a bad outcome. Hauling them would be a chore, but this many trees would offset the mercenary fees to some extent.
Then, as he glanced about, his eyes landed on me. His expression turned puzzled, as if a question had dawned on him.
"Huh? I don't recall seeing an Easterner among the mercenaries..."
Did he spot that I'm new to the band? I tensed slightly, but Janet stepped forward and cut him off.
"Anyway... with these trees, you won't have to worry about firewood this winter, right?"
"Pardon?"
"We let the beast escape, so no hide or bones or any byproducts. The cash payout doesn't match the monster we faced, you see?"
"B-But that's not our fault! And we agreed to free repairs on your food and weapons!..."
"That's why I'm saying—the net payment is insufficient."
"...These trees are from the forest near our village. The ownership belongs to..."
"No. These are byproducts from our fight with the beast. That said... I'm not asking full price. Looks like just over a hundred trees, so 5 copper each—nice and clean, 5 silver total. Sound good?"
"Th-That's too..."
"Fine. Throw in hauling them to the village, and make it 8 silver. That's my final offer. Refuse, and I'll burn every last one."
"..."
In the end, the chief accepted the deal with a defeated sigh. Moving the trees was no trouble. Everyone in the band had stats equal to or better than Mel's. Just two round trips over a short distance—no complaints.
Plus, the promise of booze and meat waiting back home sweetened the deal.
"The payment... here it is..."
"One, two, three... perfect. Request complete. And drop the long face. Eight silver for a hundred trees—you're coming out ahead, so why act like you're suffering?"
"...Ahem. You know everything, don't you."
The chief smoothed his furrowed brow with reluctance. After he paid Janet the completion fee and tree price and departed, she tossed a few coins my way.
Clink!
Thud.
I caught them effortlessly. Three silver coins gleaming in my palm. Only then did the lingering resentment in me ease.
The trees Janet had sold belonged to me, after all.
"Defrocked monk. Your share. More than half, so be satisfied."
"More than half? Half of 8 silver is 4, but I've got 3 here?"
"Don't get cute. Three silver covers the band's hauling fee."
"...You're pretty precise with the math. Taking half as margin is steep, though."
"Heh heh. If you'd sold the trees to the chief yourself, you'd have pocketed all 5 silver. I waited plenty. You showed no sign of selling, so I stepped in."
"And that's worth half?"
"Yep."
Seen that way, her margin wasn't bad at all. I knew the trees had value but hadn't planned to sell. No clue on price for raw, untrimmed logs. Three silver was plenty satisfying.
I'd probed for more just in case, but Janet wasn't one to budge.
Pat pat.
"...Chanyoung. Why don't I like that woman?"
Chris whispered to me, glaring at Janet's chuckling form. Chris's impression of the mercenary leader had shattered when I'd jokingly flirted with Janet in her presence. Since then, Chris often shot her silent glares.
I didn't mind Janet. Her bold personality, clean dealings, and beauty all appealed. But any man comfortable with women knows better than to say to Chris, "What's wrong with the leader? She's fine by me." Never, ever speak the truth in these moments. That's the gateway to hell.
I lowered my voice as much as possible.
"...Honestly, me neither."
"R-Really? Whew..."
Rub rub...
"Smooth out your face. You're ruining a pretty one."
"...Mm. Hehe..."
I gently massaged Chris's furrowed brow with my thumb. A white lie for goodwill—and it worked wonders. Her face relaxed instantly.
That's how you handle women.
Afterward, the band headed to the village's sole tavern together. Meat and ale were already laid out.
The mercenaries are getting quite the welcome?
Whether the chief grumbled over unexpected costs or not, we received a grand reception. We'd eliminated the roar plaguing the village for over a week. No watered-down drinks to fear, at least.
"Alright, everyone—to celebrating our injury-free monster extermination! Cheers!"
Kahaha! Cheers!!
Janet's toast kicked off the welcome party masquerading as a monster-slaying bash—for me and Chris, with Mel included too.
First-rate or not, mercenaries are mercenaries. Welcome drinks for every newbie were rare.
I wasn't expecting a welcome anyway. No hazing would be blessing enough.
Judging by their glances, no pecking-order nonsense either. The leader Janet had vouched for me personally, I'd brought solid gains as an empath, and above all, they knew my strength surpassed theirs.
The main questions flew at me and Chris's relationship. Man-woman mercenary hookups were common, but our standout looks drew attention.
I brushed them off vaguely. They moved on quickly to fresh topics anyway. Nothing kills a drinking party's vibe like deep talk.
"Are all Easterners that handsome? And tall?"
"Definitely a new vibe. Is this the mystique of the East?"
"First Easterner I've seen."
"No, the one I saw last time wasn't this tall..."
By this era's standards, 185cm was towering—even among burly, sword-for-hire types, I stood out.
Plenty of grist for chat meant Chris and Mel caught few questions.
"..."
I gave a subtle nod to Chris watching me worriedly from afar. Don't worry too much.
Few mercenaries eyed Chris anyway. She had a boyfriend—me—and Janet, another woman, was watching out for her.
Janet's got real tact.
The leader perfectly blocked any drunken advances. My fondness for her rose.
"Aren't Easterners supposed to have small eyes?"
"Pfft haha! This defrocked monk... ah! Sorry. If Park Chanyoung has small eyes, then you calling it out makes you the Easterner!"
"Where's home?"
"Born and raised in the kingdom."
They stared in fascination, but no prejudice against black hair or eyes. My appeal broke down any walls.
Woo-hoo!
As time passed and slurred speech set in, Chris had sidled up beside me unnoticed amid the buzz and drinks.
"Phew... looks like the interrogation's over. Good job, Chanyoung."
"Your face looks fine?"
"I'm strong with booze... and thanks to that woman, I barely drank."
Like how I'd warmed to Janet's moves, Chris seemed less prickly now. The edge in "that woman" had dulled—a good sign.
"Then... shall we go greet the last one we missed?"
I nodded toward Mel, clutching a cup in both hands and sipping away. She'd faced nonstop toasts too, skipping proper intros.
Chris nodded in agreement.
Step step.
We approached Mel, sitting apart. We arrived beside the dazed boy but knocked on the table since he hadn't noticed.
Knock knock.
"Mel was the baby of the White Whale mercenaries until now, right?"
"Nice to meet you! I'm Mel! Please take care of me! Everyone mistakes me, but I'm a guy! The white hair's from eating the wrong herb as a kid, and when I was little, monsters raided my village, my parents died, and an herbalist..."
Whoosh!
Speaking to the rigid Mel triggered a macro-like spiel. Becoming a formal welcome star had her tense.
I blinked patiently till she finished.
Gasp... gasp...
"...How'd you rattle off all that without breathing midway..."
Chris stifled a laugh at Mel's heaving breaths. I sat before her, soothing gently.
"Just here to say hi as the new baby."
"B-Baby?"
"You joined before me."
"Ah... right."
"But... Mel, your hair's thinning quite a bit for a guy."
"Ah, haha... thought so? Gotta cut it..."
"No. It suits you."
Mel’s lashes were long up close. Longer than most Western men—easy to mistake for a girl. Her bob was Chris-level silky too. Utterly androgynous.
Truth was... Mel wasn't a girly guy. She was just a girl.
Her hair length... yeah, crossdressing but not fully committing to male. Makes sense.
Not some epic backstory—just scared to live as a woman among rough mercenaries. Her disguise held because she looked youthful: short, innocent eyes, chubby cheeks. Voice stayed thin, puberty-light. No suspicions.
"Looking forward to working with you. Should I go with 'senior'?"
"S-Senior? No way! And... th-that..."
"Park Chanyoung."
"S-Sorry...! Not worthy of 'senior' from Park Chanyoung...! Too much pressure!"
"Then just Mel, like before."
"Y-Yes. Whatever's comfy..."
I knew from the original story Mel was female but saw no need to out her. No desire to distress this small-animal-like girl.