Chapter 167

The village sitting at the foot of the Iseuk Mountain Range was easing into evening a little earlier than other places, likely because of its geography.

Late afternoon, with faint darkness already shimmering in the distant sky.

Inside the management office building, packed wall to wall with people.

"Like I said, this young fellow and I—we're a package deal. In the kids' lingo these days… you know, a set! The kind they tie up with twine and sell together out front of the shop! No singles!"

Mikhail surveyed the busier-than-expected interior, then shifted his gaze between Sally—who was pounding his shoulder and arguing his case—and the manager standing opposite them.

"Hmm. Mr. Sally, I'd hire you on the spot, but the boy next to you doesn't look like much…."

"Ah-ah! Boy, nothing. He just looks young—he's a proper young man!"

"Yes… well, anyway. As you know, the work at our trading company is heavy labor. There's a lot of hauling and moving cargo involved, and we really can't hire someone with no stamina. Now, if it were someone like you, that'd be a different story…."

"My good man, you've got to look at the bigger picture. Strength isn't all about the body, is it? More important than muscle is grit and willpower! I've seen plenty of strong fellows give up halfway and lie down on the job because their resolve was weak!"

Mikhail kept quiet and gave a small nod, as if agreeing with what Sally had just said.

Sally had a real way with words. He was using his own merits to good effect and steadily working on the manager.

"But this young fellow's different! He's the kind who'd work himself into the ground before giving up! If hauling cargo takes him two trips instead of one, well then, that's what he'll do—and if it really gets to be too much, hell, I'll pick up the slack myself! So come on, hire us both!"

…Going by the manager's expression, getting hired as a laborer was going to take almost no effort at all.

Mikhail quietly turned his eyes to the side.

While the conversation flowed along smoothly, the manager's expression wasn't what he needed to be paying attention to.

They should be around here somewhere.

Mikhail narrowed his eyes and let his gaze drift slowly through the bustling room.

His quiet eyes traveled across the scene once.

It didn't take long for him to spot the figures worth noting.

"—. ——."

A group huddled at a table in the far left corner.

Three of them, average builds, dressed like street peddlers you'd see anywhere.

The features showing beneath their hats, the locking formula on their luggage…. Everything matches.

Mikhail glanced sidelong at the men laughing and chatting in their plain getup, then turned his head away.

Practically terrorists…. The one bit of good news is that they won't go out of their way to make a scene on this trip.

Mikhail pressed a breath down into his chest, kept his expression neutral, and shifted his gaze back to the front.

"Hngh, all right, fine. Let's do it your way. I'll hire the both of you. But if things don't go smoothly, then, as you said, Mr. Sally, you'll have to pick up the slack for the young man as well. Understood?"

"Of course! I'm not the kind to go back on his word."

The manager nodded and shuffled the papers in his hand.

"Good. Then starting tomorrow morning, which wagons you'll be assigned to is—"

"Wagon four."

Mikhail cut in abruptly. Sally blinked at him in surprise, and the manager narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.

"I'm telling you this as a special courtesy, but you don't want number four. That one handles all sorts of cargo, plus extra parcels, and if you lose focus for a second you'll be making twice the trips—"

"We'll take wagon four."

The manager's face twisted at the obstinate tone. Sally let out a booming laugh and pointedly raised his voice.

"Heh, hah. Hahaha—! Ah, ah! What did I tell you! This boy's got willpower for days, didn't I say so! Yes indeed!"

"……"

Sally's delivery was all over the place. But Mikhail nodded as though he agreed with every word.

"…Tch."

The manager glared at each of them in turn, then finally let out an irritated sigh.

"Suit yourselves. But don't come crawling back later asking to switch wagons. That's not happening."

---

Half a day passed. The mountain birds' chirping spread through the early morning, clear as dew rolling off a blade of grass.

"—All right, anyone who's finished eating, on your feet. The next group's got to eat and get moving!"

The inn was busy from the crack of dawn, serving meals to the people about to set out on the merchant procession.

Bread layered with sliced ham, crackers spread with jam. Stew bubbling with big chunks of chicken and mutton.

A spread substantial enough to fuel folks in for a long day's work.

Clatter.

The moment Sally had sat down at the table, he'd polished off three loaves of bread and four bowls of stew, and was now wiping his mouth.

Mikhail watched the spectacle, chewed through a fig-jam cracker, and stood up.

"Hmm? Maxwell, why are you up already?"

"I'm done. Let's get going."

"Eh? Don't be ridiculous. I saw you stop at two crackers. You'll fall over at this rate."

Sally wagged a finger in admonition, then glanced around, wrapped a loaf of bread in a napkin, and slipped it into his pocket.

"If you get hungry later, just say the word. I'll dig it out for you."

"…All right."

He doubted he'd be asking, but Mikhail nodded vaguely and walked out of the inn.

The next stop was the outskirts of the village. Where the merchant company's loaded wagons and the people joining the procession would be gathering.

Mikhail walked beside Sally with his bag slung over his shoulder, and before long they reached a road stretching out lengthwise.

Wagon four.

Mikhail scanned the scene and headed for his assigned wagon.

Along the way, when Sally asked about checking in on his behalf, Mikhail had told him to go ahead.

"……"

Mikhail stood in front of his assigned fourth wagon and looked at the unusually broad interior.

Just as the manager had said yesterday, this was where all manner of cargo would soon be loaded.

Which made it the perfect compartment to bury something unusual or valuable in among the clutter.

"Hoo."

Mikhail quietly swallowed a breath. Then he hammered the upcoming sequence of events and his window of action into his mind like driving in a nail.

It takes the procession a day and a half to clear the mountain road. The enemy slipped away under cover of noise right when the line was nearly through the range….

So the moment to lift the directive was clear.

The instant just before the enemy broke from the procession.

That was when their attention would be most divided—and even if they realized the directive was missing, there'd be nothing they could do about it.

Which means, until that window opens, the first job is to keep them from getting suspicious of me.

Mikhail glanced down toward his ear. The dull, unassuming impression Haeron's magic tool was lending him would come in handy.

"—Hey, you there. Move it! We're loading cargo!"

A booming voice rang out behind him. Mikhail snapped out of his thoughts and turned around.

A laborer was approaching, hauling a stack of crates piled up to his head with both arms.

It seemed the cargo loading had begun.

Time to get moving then.

Mikhail stepped out of the laborer's path, fastened his bag tightly to his shoulder, and headed toward the stack of cargo.

---

Meanwhile, at that same hour.

Han and Ul had been chasing each other's tails in the empty dormitory when they suddenly stopped.

A damp breeze drifted through the windowsill. The smell of rain was spreading like spores from young mushrooms.

Han padded over to the window and tugged the rope with her teeth.

Click.

The instant the window closed, the sky rumbled. Han and Ul sat on the windowsill and rolled their eyes upward. The clouds that had been white as cotton blossoms were now drenched dark.

"Snrf."

Looked like today's walk was a bust. Han and Ul snorted through their noses, padded over to the box in the corner of the room, fished out a biscuit each, and started gnawing.

…Thump.

That was when it happened. Han and Ul pricked up their ears. Footsteps were approaching from far off. They didn't sound like their closest friend, though.

"?"

Han and Ul exchanged glances, set down their half-eaten biscuits, opened the window, and slipped outside.

By stepping along the windowsill and following the edge of the wall, they could watch what was happening in front of the door without anyone noticing.

Rustle.

Han and Ul reached the corridor window. They peeked their heads up from behind the sill and looked out into the hallway.

Thud.

Someone was approaching with unsteady footsteps.

Han and Ul eased their heads further into the corridor. A familiar face, by the look of it. The pink hair they remembered from those carriage rides….

"Ya—!"

Ul was about to let out a happy yip. Han whipped her tail across Ul's mouth to muffle him and crouched low.

"Snrf…."

Ul rolled his eyes around nervously and then flattened himself like his sister.

Rumble.

The overcast sky growled again. The pink-haired boy stopped his swaying steps and stood in front of the dormitory door.

"……"

The boy standing motionless, Julien, was nothing but lifeless gray.

He stood beneath a silence as cold as winter rain, still as an old statue.

Knock. Knock.

The quiet broke at last. Julien raised a trembling hand and tapped the closed door, then parted his dry lips.

"Mikha… il."

Beyond the door, all was silent. Julien drew broken, hitching breaths like a wheel coming apart, then lifted his arm again and knocked.

Knock. Knock-knock.

"You… inside? I've got… something to tell you."

There was no answer this time either. Julien let his lifted arm drop and tilted his upper body forward.

Thunk.

Julien pressed his forehead to the door and leaned against it at an angle.

A faint, rasping murmur escaped from beneath unfocused eyes.

"Ah… not here. Guess he's… not here right now…."

Julien tugged the corners of his mouth up into a smile.

"Really… that's a relief…."

Julien raised both hands to cover his eyes. The mouth visible beneath his palms quivered like the wings of a dying insect.

"Thank god. He's not here. Yeah. Really."

His broken voice splintered out of sync. Erratic breaths and trembling shoulders rose and fell in jagged counterpoint.

"……"

Han and Ul held their breath and lowered their eyes to Julien's feet, then tipped their heads back and looked up.

The sky was blanketed in clouds that had grown even darker.

The raindrops falling one by one from above were drawing the same ripples on the ground that they'd just been watching.

Round little sobs were dripping down, dampening the tips of their noses.