Chapter 3: Stupid Boss and Knight

Chapter 3:
Stupid Boss and Knight

 

LIKE A LIVING CORPSE, I staggered down the street with shaking steps. An unbelievable fact had been revealed to me. I had sold my sorcery cores at a fiendishly low price to the mana tool shop, fooled into thinking they were worthless trash.

How dare that man! Deceive me?! U-unforgivable! Damn barcode-hair from another world!

Pizzaman had explained that the crystallization of a sorcery core inside a mana beast was itself a rare phenomenon, and as such, sorcery core supply couldn’t match the demand. Every core was a valuable treasure readily traded for an exorbitant amount.

According to the esteemed Sir Pizzaman, as I was a naïve aristocrat from a foreign country, I had been an easy mark. Pizzaman had also been ignorant to the ways of the world when he left his affluent home to start his journey, and he too had been swindled by merchants. I could certainly believe someone had taken advantage of this kindhearted fellow just like they had me.

Pizzaman pitied me, so he paid the bill for my baked sempiol and tart. If he were a manga character, his appearance would have read as a son of an aristocrat—the sleazebag type who torments the protagonist’s adorable childhood friend and receives swift comeuppance. In reality, he was an extremely considerate and gentle soul.

“Compared to him, that mana tool merchant is… I’ll never…!” I shouted with teary eyes. I wanted to continue with “I’ll never forgive him!” but held my tongue.

Gol was worriedly peering at my disheartened face. She was doubtlessly concerned by my state, having left her usual spot just behind me to walk by my side.

I had noticed something during my long discussion with Pizzaman. Gol more or less ignored any words said by anyone other than myself. She treated it as background noise. It had been the same when we were with Master Speria. Consequently, she didn’t understand why I was so dejected.

I adjusted my previous statement. “I’ll never…never, uh, I’ll never understand why he thinks he can successfully hide that forehead of his with that strange haircut. You can bet on it.”

I should refrain from voicing my anger toward the mana tool merchant in front of Gol, I thought. There was no need for her to suffer for my anxiety.

In any case, I still had one of those troublesome sorcery cores in my possession. I suppose you could say it was a blessing in disguise. Given what Pizzaman had said, I could get quite a bit of money from selling it, even if I only had the one.

At first, I hadn’t been particularly stressed about the money issue. These lost profits were a high price to pay for a lesson in trust, but at the end of the day, I could blame this colossal blunder entirely on my own ignorance. Although I didn’t want to admit it, on the eat-or-be-eaten battlefield known as business, I had been defeated by that barcode merchant’s prowess.

That was how I wanted to look at it now…

Ugh. It was no good.

Damn it! U-unforgivable! I really can’t forgive him! I won’t ever forgive that man for the rest of my life! I’ll be back, you bastard!

Filled with frustration, I glanced at Gol. If I only made a simple request, my partner might swiftly—
violently—handle my problem with the mana tool merchant and this whole problem could be settled.

No, not “might.” Gol would fulfill my wish beyond my wildest imaginings. I might even be dragged into paying compensation for whatever horror she wrought upon the mana tool shop.

And yet…no human in this town could stop Gol. And Gol would never refuse one of my requests.

But…

“That would be completely stupid… Ah, it can’t be helped! Besides, I’m not some junior high school student carrying a knife and putting on airs of badassery.” I laughed bitterly at myself as I stared up at the clear blue sky.

Hoping to clear my head, I took a leisurely stroll through the town, Gol at my side. We wandered through the pleasant streets, and my mood gradually recovered. Nothing good comes to those who constantly grumble and worry. The man with a reputation for quickly shifting gears, that was me!

“Oh? Something smells good,” I said.

A sweet fragrance drifted on the wind. What was it? It reminded me of cookies. On the other side of the street, a stand was selling baked sweets.

With the prospect of more money on the horizon, I loosened my purse strings. I was now more interested in the appearance of cookies from another world than the lingering issues of gross monkey pebbles.

“Hey, Gol, wanna check that place out?” I asked my partner brightly as I started to cross the street.

However, I noticed a crowd forming down the way. They were gathering in the area near the mana tool shop. It appeared that during my wanderings, I had made my way back to the scene of my sorrows, although that wasn’t so strange given the town’s limited number of roads.

Suddenly, I heard something crashing and breaking on the other side of the crowd of onlookers, who began to chatter.

“What’s that? A fight…?” Intrigued, I casually joined the crowd. There, I caught a glimpse of the commotion from between other gawkers. “Ah! It’s him.”

I couldn’t believe it. In the center of this crowd was the mana tool merchant arguing with three other men.

You! Were you so unsatisfied with tricking me into selling my sorcery cores that you had to go and get yourself three more victims?! U-unforgivable! I won’t forgive you! Fanned by righteous indignation, my anger toward the evil merchant was immediately reignited.

But on second glance, something was strange about this situation. The men standing directly in front of the merchant were clearly violating the noble sensibility espoused by Japan’s Swords and Firearms Possession Control Law, what with the length of the sabers at their waists. A long-haired man, who seemed like the leader of these three, approached the terrified merchant and shouted something.

Although the merchant seemed to say something in return, his small stature shivered. His face never had much charm, but now it was even worse. His pallid complexion was soaked in cold sweat.

The long-haired man rolled his tattooed shoulders and snarled in a shrill voice to intimidate the crowd. Although the two men accompanying him had short, sensible hair, they were also carrying weapons that violated the spirit of the Swords and Firearms Possession Control Law. They stood on either side of the merchant to cut off any escape and silently applied bullying pressure.

They’re the type of people that I, a lover of peace, despise the most: delinquents.

To think that such people existed in this world as well! I was a bit shocked.

The first person I’d met, the golem who had become my partner, was a considerate and gentle soul. Following that, I met a true denizen of this other world, Master Speria, who was extremely intelligent and a splendid gentleman. Blessed with such wonderful encounters, I had rated the culture of this world to be practically the best. On a scale of one to ten, it would easily exceed a hundred points.

But now that I knew this world had such malicious merchants and devilish delinquents who did as they pleased, I unfortunately had to negatively adjust my rating.

As I was saddened by this turn, the long-haired punk’s shrill voice rang in my ear. “Like I said, Mr. Chotos, it’s basic etiquette to return borrowed money, right? So hurry up and pay what you need to pay, got it? We ain’t runnin’ a charity here.”

“I-I’m begging you to wait just a little longer! I have a way to pay it back. Just a little more… Um, a few days. I’ll make all the money back and return it!” said the merchant.

Ah, could this be what was known as a debt collection? Wait a minute…that barcode had debt?

“Y’know, if we let you get away with that kind of excuse, we’d lose out on business. Hey, you two!” the long-haired one said, cocking his chin.

That was a sign for the other two men to start knocking shelves down in the shop. Goods fell from the shelves to the floor, clattering loudly. Was this the source of the crashes I’d heard before?

The long-haired man plopped himself down on a fallen shelf, a lit cigarette in his mouth. As he blew smoke into the merchant’s face, he said in a low voice, “Even if you don’t got money, you’ve got somethin’ else you can cough up, eh? Hurry up and bring out the deed to the shop.”

I see. This was a real professional-grade punk. Magnificently played. Granted, I had no interest in emulating such vulgar tactics.

The merchant withdrew into his back room with a pale face, but he immediately returned with a leather bag in his hand. Excitedly, he extracted a black crystal from within it. His fingertips quivered in impatience and fear. “L-Look at this! It’s an Earth Ogre’s sorcery core—a special product you can circulate to the military. If you give me the chance to make a profit from it, I can pay back the debt to the Company!”

Ah! Wasn’t that the monkey’s sorcery core he bought off of me?! Damn barcode man! At the sight of that sorcery core, a tide of deep sadness and anger swept through my heart again. Bastard! How are you going to take responsibility for this?!

However, as he saw the black sorcery core, the long-haired man’s eyes widened and his expression faintly changed. The two accompanying men had stopped their rampage. As expected for a professional punk gang, they were smooth operators.

“Heh, this is surprising… You’ve got your hands on somethin’ genuinely nice,” the long-haired man said. The corner of his mouth twitched, trying to hold back his broad grin.

I couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

“All right, got it. We’re not demons or anythin’. Hey, how ’bout this, Mr. Chotos? We’ll hold off on claimin’ the deed, as you’ve requested.” With a nasty smile—made only nastier by that cigarette—the man rolled his shoulders and walked over to the merchant. Suddenly, he seized the leather bag. “But I’ll be takin’ care of this.”

“Wha—?”

“Ha, it’s pretty hefty. I’m sure there’s a fair number of ’em. Yeah, this’ll do. Keep up the good work and make sure you repay your debt.”

“Wh-what are you saying?! Give that back!” The merchant turned bright red and grabbed at the long-haired man to recover the leather bag.

He was easily brushed aside. The punk kicked him into the air, and he tumbled to the floor violently. There, he curled up and didn’t move again.

“This is righteous retribution…” I whispered as I took in the mess. I knew nothing of this world’s customs, but it appeared that if you missed the deadline to repay your debts, a collector came around. You probably wouldn’t be kicked every time, but this was a good lesson for a stubborn merchant. It was divine punishment for deceiving the purehearted me. Lament and repent for your sin and greed, and respect the bite of pain!

“Then we’ll take our leave, Mr. Chotos. No need to see us off. You’ve worked yourself too hard, so just lie down and take a break,” the long-haired man snickered.

The three punks swaggered toward the exit.

However, even after all that, the merchant lunged at the leg of the long-haired man who was holding the leather bag. “Give it back! Please, give it back!”

Oh? This is a joke, right? You still wanna go at it, old man?

“Tsk, you’re annoying. Don’t get carried away, you filthy bald bastard!” said the long-haired man. In anger, he kicked the merchant in the abdomen with all his might. His foot sank into the man’s saggy side and made a blunt, horrid sound.

The merchant pressed his hand to his side and let out a pained groan. The punk curled the corner of his mouth that had the cigarette. He kicked and kicked, his hair becoming disheveled with each blow to the merchant’s body. The merchant continued to cling to the punk’s leg with his other hand.

What a stubborn man.

In any case, this confrontation had clearly reached some kind of limit. Someone ought to report the incident, or at least intercede.

But the merchant showed no sign of letting go, despite the merciless, never-ending kicks. The remaining hair on his head, which he had so carefully combed down, was now a sloppy mess. He looked like a fallen samurai.

Do you value money that much? Your greed is a real affliction.

All three punks were now kicking the cowering merchant. There was blood on his face. He immediately turned his head down, so the blood was only visible for a moment. Yet for some reason, that red smear burned into my retinas and refused to leave.

Well… Someone will come to help him soon. Of course they will. These punks are totally committing assault!

Even as I thought this, the merchant continued to cling to the punk’s leg, and he was kicked, and kicked, and kicked.

No one in the crowd moved. The merchant’s hand weakened.

H-hey. Why isn’t anyone going to help this man?

Why? Was it because he was a short, unattractive old man? Did they all really think there was no benefit in helping a poor-looking geezer? Or was it because he was a debt-ridden, dishonest merchant? Well, he was those things, but still. His character and his plight were two different matters.

I certainly did 100 percent believe he was a wicked merchant and a stupid-head for tricking me out of my sorcery cores. If I could, I would stuff a large number of firecrackers up his butt. But that resentment was purely business-oriented. I also wholeheartedly believed I had made my own decision and agreed to sell the sorcery cores according to my own flawed judgment.

However, the scene unfolding before me had a different underlying spirit. I mean, this man was just trying to stop a group of people from taking his belongings by force.

This was…wrong.

If nothing else, it was obvious these punks had no intention of turning the sorcery cores over to the people the merchant owed. They seemed more intent on embezzling.

Right! I mean, they hadn’t even written up a receipt! That had actually bothered me right from the start! If they didn’t write up a receipt, the merchant wouldn’t be able to make any claims about the sorcery cores if the punks feigned ignorance!

No matter how you looked at it, what was happening now was a crime.

Please, I beg you. Someone, anyone, please notify the authorities! I don’t know what organization handles public order in this world. Besides…this guy is being kicked way too much, right? He’s in so much pain, and he’s crying, and he’s covered in dirt.

……

Ah, I-I can’t. No more. I can’t endure this anymore.

I unconsciously took a step forward. My step made a heavy sound on the floor of the shop.

As a cultured man, I couldn’t continue watching from the sidelines as barbarians violently oppressed the weak. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences anymore. That was why I stepped between the bloodied man and the punks. Exactly like a knight protecting a maiden.

“Hey, wait right there, you—you fellows. Make sure you write him a proper receipt!”

The first person in this world I tried to protect from villains wasn’t a frail young lady or a beautiful damsel in distress—it was a short, debt-ridden, helpless, sloppy old man.