Chapter 24: Gentle Wife

Chapter 24:
Gentle Wife

 

I SLUMPED IN A CORNER of the covered wagon tucked away in the corner of Zibil’s outer wall, out of sight of all but a few people.

By most standards, the results of my negotiations with the Company were a huge success. I made Branch Manager Spero promise not to interfere with Chotos’s Mana Tool Shop—or, indeed, all of Tibar. And I reminded him that if he broke his promise, I would return with even more vigorous protests.

I also received an exorbitant sum of money as compensation for the wagon grandpa. Several terrified employees shoved large bags of money, bulging with coins, into my hands. The bags were so heavy that Gol had to carry them. Given our prior conversation, the Company’s charity surprised me, but at least now the grandpa could live out the rest of his days in peace and leisure.

Well, I suppose the Company had dragged the grandpa into a horrible experience he had nothing to do with, so they owed him. He offered to split the money with Mr. Chotos and me, but because his wagon had suffered the most damages, I thought he should take it all. If he insisted later, I wanted him to split it between only himself and Mr. Chotos, as I had deprived Mr. Chotos of his own compensation with my failure to curb Gol’s misbehavior at his shop.

In any case, I mean it when I say my negotiations were wildly successful. I was disheartened for a different reason.

“Sorry, Ginem…” I said with a wince.

Ginem Bari lay covered in wounds within the wagon as Mr. Chotos administered first aid with that flashlight mana tool.

Just before the negotiations had settled, I released Spero and stood, at which point the grotesquerie of Spero’s body caught me off guard. Not only were his joints dislocated, but the bones in each of his shins and forearms were broken. Furthermore, all twenty fingers on both his hands and feet were twisted into spirals. On top of that, the nails on his fingers had been meticulously peeled away and—

No, let’s stop the description here. Ugh. Just remembering it makes me feel sick…

What exactly had happened to Spero? Had it been a ghastly otherworld phenomenon? It all left me far too frightened to ask, so I’d taken a few steps back. As I did, my heel bumped into something.

When I turned and looked down, I thought my eyeballs would pop out as I beheld an even more overwhelming horror, one that blew the abominable sight of the branch manager straight out of my head. The witness Ginem Bari lay at my feet, a pile of bloody scraps.

In a panic, I rushed to lift him in my arms and desperately called out to him, but he kept muttering in a weak, incoherent voice, “Help me… I’m sorry…”

He had experienced something truly horrid. My chest tightened. I had an idea of what had left Ginem Bari in such a sorry state. No—rather than an idea, I had no doubt. Logically, there was only one conclusion to draw. In the mere moments we had taken our eyes off Ginem Bari, our star witness, the vile Paisley Company had sent minions to assault him in order to destroy the evidence.

I had failed to protect the witness, even though we forced him to accompany us to the negotiations, which made him our responsibility. My body burned with guilt and remorse.

“Oh, woe is me. What a failure I am.” When I secretly covered my face, on the verge of tears in the corner of the wagon, Gol peered over at me in concern.

As Gol gazed at me with her gentle eyes, I weakened and spilled the contents of my heart to her. In the throes of regret, I needed to confess to someone—anyone. “Gol…Gol, I’m mortified. Because of my incompetence, I couldn’t stop the Paisley Company from brutalizing the witness.”

I couldn’t stand knowing that a defenseless person had been horrifically injured by senseless violence, and all on my account. Just talking about it brought more tears to my eyes.

In the past, whenever I got this sad, I would hug my dog and have a good cry. I let out a shaky sigh. “Such a cruel company of criminals should just poof and disappear…”

This thought had smoldered in the honest depths of my heart. When I finally released it, a gust of wind blew along the gray outer walls of Zibil. Gol’s long ears swayed faintly, as if she were trying to pick up some distant sound drifting along the wind.

My shoulders drooped as I stumbled further into my confession. “But you know, Gol… The worst person here has to be the one who didn’t properly protect the witness, the one who’s always spoiled by your kindheartedness: me. I…I just want to disappear.”

As I cried, Gol wiped my tears with her finger. She always stuck close to me and paid heed to everything I said. My partner couldn’t speak, but she was the world’s best listener.

“Thanks for listening to me,” I murmured. Having vented all my frustrations, I softly stroked Gol’s head.

Oh? Whenever I pet her like this, she usually fluttered her ears in delight like a dog wags its tail. This time, however, her reaction was minimal. She just stared at the tears streaking down my face, unmoving.

“All right!” I slapped my cheeks to motivate myself. You were a big help, partner. Talking with you about everything suddenly made me feel a lot better.

It was time to shift gears, and quickly. We could still help the grievously injured Ginem Bari. My ability to quickly switch gears is the one of which I’m proudest.

I raised my head and, with my usual enthusiasm, rejoined Mr. Chotos and the others. At this moment, I didn’t notice how Gol quietly disappeared from behind me.

 

***

 

The onlookers at the Paisley Company’s Zibil branch office had dispersed and the office doors were tightly shut.

In the lobby, which was littered with scattered documents, Branch Manager Spero yelled at the personnel running about as his spittle flew through the air. “What the hell were you bastards doing? Each and every one of you—useless! Useless dimwits!”

In his rage, Spero wanted to slam his fist on the desk, but his right arm was stiff and he couldn’t raise his shoulder any farther up. He couldn’t even make a fist, though neither could he open his hand.

Hired spellcasters had healed his wounds moments ago. For the most part, his limbs appeared to have returned to their original state. However, a portion of both his hands and his left foot still couldn’t move at all, even after the spellcasters used an advanced healing-type Water spell meant for emergency treatment.

However, the Water spell wasn’t omnipotent. Hardly any spellcasters could treat the most serious injuries, or those that involved bodily loss. For the latter, they required an aptitude with the rare Life attribute. There was no telling if Spero would ever be able receive that kind of treatment. In any case, his limbs had been so horribly disfigured he would inevitably experience complications in the future.

“Damn! This fiasco is all that Ject Baro’s fault. That uppity eye-patched bastard. He was all talk and no action.” Spero spat under his breath, which was still rough.

The young Ject Baro had happened to be visiting from the main office in Kinas on other business, and he showed significant interest in the series of incidents involving that shrine golem wielder. Ject Baro had an impeccable success rate, and he professed himself a rare crossbow golem wielder. Moreover, this young man was frequently kept by that person’s side as a favored subordinate. For all these reasons, Spero had accommodated him. And yet…

“I did exactly what he asked. I even paid a huge sum in advance to hire the Four Jester Wielder and his contingent from the Spellcaster’s Association… Yet they were all defeated without laying a scratch on some random golem wielder from who knows where. What an absolute disaster!” Spero snarled as he scowled at his stiff right arm.

That shrine golem wielder from the east… That brat who ruined his limbs. Spero swore to never forgive him. As he did, his face reflected in the polished surface of a high-quality white desk. Though Spero’s face was usually most charming, it was now wretchedly disfigured by anger.

Up to this moment, he had always acted in direct accordance with the decrees of that person, that beautiful princess, and had never once failed.

This was supposed to have been a simple job.

Spero was proud to have been chosen as a superior human being, and he often boasted of his stunning record. He would never allow some nobody to wound his pride.

“I need more people,” Spero snapped. “Hire anyone useful. Money is no object. File a request to deploy more personnel from the main office.”

One of the subordinates grimaced with displeasure. “The main office, sir? But, branch manager, if we disclose these failures, they’ll impact our assessments…”

“No one said you had to be stupid and file an honest report! Just make up an appropriate excuse. What the hell is that brain in your skull for?!”

Spero, enraged by the subordinate’s cowardly quibbling, swiped his stiff arm across the desk. His elbow collided with the high-quality liquor that had been used to bring him back to his senses, and the bottle crashed to the floor, shattering.

“Hah, phew…” As Spero stared at the mess of shards in the pooling stain, he snorted and panted. “What an outrageously cruel demon of a man… Yet he showed an inversely gentle attitude toward his relatives. If his power renders him too difficult to kill directly, we’ll just need to turn our efforts toward his precious family.”

Gray-haired Spero’s wide eyes glowed with homicidal delight. “First, we’ll assassinate the imbecilic owner of that mana tool shop—display his corpse on the road as an example to others. Torture the daughter all you like, but don’t kill her. She’ll be useful as a hostage. Show that brat a tragedy to carve inside his eyelids, one that he’ll never unsee.”

Spero listed all of this in one breath, then paused before continuing, as if nonchalantly ordering an additional cup of cheap alcohol, “Ah, right. Find out who that old geezer driving their wagon was and kill him. That brat was strangely particular about that filthy old man. I’m sure he’ll show us the most magnificent expressions when we have our say.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll handle the arrangements.”

The subordinates received Spero’s instructions and flew off to their work. To them, this kind of job was nothing more than a daily task to which they had long since become accustomed.

Beautiful, capable men and women moved swiftly through the gorgeous office. The scene was like unto one that had manifested from an artistic masterpiece.

Spero gazed upon it in satisfaction. His distorted face slowly eased back to its usual handsome state, and a faint smile crossed his well-defined mouth. “Hmph, what a foolish brat. Did he really think we would abide by something like a ‘mutual noninterference agreement’?”

Suddenly, something shining and white broke through the ceiling and landed in the lobby.

Everyone froze in astonishment, staring and unable to speak.

Pieces of the ceiling thudded and clattered to the floor. However, that snow-white shape had made not a single sound as it fell along with the bricks.

The sunlight filtering through the hole in the ceiling illuminated the immaculate figure. It resembled a young woman. Crimson eyes. Long ears. Flowing, silky hair. An ephemeral maiden. The person standing stock still against this light was breathtakingly solemn and possessed of a beauty that inspired great longing. Even children would have known she was the very image of the goddess of antiquity, the deity of the ancient race that appeared in folklore.

However, the crimson eyes of the goddess standing before them brimmed with grim darkness, cold and obscure—the eyes of someone staring at an insignificant bug right before they crushed it.

At this moment, with a collective shudder, everyone remembered the sharp-eyed, black-haired young man wearing an olive-brown robe. That foreign golem wielder had directed his golem to wave his defeated enemy like a flag as he, uninjured, strolled into their office seemingly without hostility, even though they had sent an assassin to kill him. Then, with a smile, he precisely manipulated his golem to conduct a bloodcurdling torture session.

And the words he left behind…

“The moment you break your promise, I’ll be back for another ‘negotiation.’”

Without warning, the white goddess blurred. Then, everyone’s sight jolted violently and the scene before them turned scarlet.

It was the last thing they saw.

 

***

 

As our wagon departed the city of Zibil, Ginem Bari sat, trembling, in one of the corners of the slightly rocking carriage as he hugged his knees.

How pitiful. That cowardly assault by the Paisley Company had deeply scarred his heart. His wounds had been treated, but his face was still swollen in places, and his bandaged fingers looked to be in pain. Those injuries would take a long time to fully heal.

Sorry, Ginem. I only took my eyes off you for a second… I was once again depressed by my negligence.

Before we departed, the old driver opened a part of his cargo and gave us several of the peach-looking fruits inside. I asked Gol to cut them for us. She used her favorite green knife to cut the fruit into adorable yet elegant bite-sized chunks, into which I stuck toothpicks before I passed them along to Mr. Chotos, Teru, and the driver.

I held out the last piece to Ginem Bari. Ginem’s fingers shook as he accepted it.

I didn’t think he was such a bad guy. His jester golems had been polished until they gleamed. I was sure he thoroughly wiped them down every single day. Moreover, there were four clowns. Four of them. When I thought of four Gols begging to be wiped down every night on the bed, I grew faint. Well, I’d do it, but…

That reminded me. We needed to make sure we recovered his clowns on our way back.

Let’s play the golem-fighting game again once they’re all better.

As I chomped on the sweet peach, I gazed out at the scenery from the back of the wagon. The gray walls of Zibil had grown so small. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to see them anymore.

“Hm? That’s…” I peered.

A thin line of smoke rose from the city. What was that? A fire, perhaps? Ah, right. Just before we departed, the city had become rather noisy. When I headed to the branch office, a ton of people were gathered along the roadside as if waiting for something. Was there really a festival happening today? In that case, that had to be a festive fire of sorts.

Plenty of countries lit bonfires during festivals. Turned out this world was no exception. Fire was sacred in many cultures, after all.

As I watched the trail of smoke in the distance, I thought of roasting sweet potatoes on an open fire.

“Hey, mister.”

“Hm? What is it, Nemaki?”

“Um, does this world…ah, no. Does this country sell something like a freshly baked sweet potato that’s soft and flaky? There was something like that in my hometown.”

Mr. Chotos looked thoughtful, stroking his short mustache and speaking in a contemplative tone. “If you’re looking for that kind of sweet potato, you probably need to visit the warmer regions of the country—the southern territories. They’re sold in the big city markets, too. I ate them many times back when I was young and peddling in various lands.”

“Oh, so they do exist.” I could have roasted sweet potatoes in this world! I was excited.

“Then again, it’s hard to come by that sort of produce in Tibar and Zibil.”

“Aw, is that so…?” I deflated.

“Well, the potatoes around here aren’t bad. If you want, I’ll make a potato dish for you later.”

No, that’s not what I meant, mister.

Well, whatever. I didn’t mind entertaining the idea of tasting some local potato dish.

 

***

 

When we arrived at the town of Tibar, the sun had long since set. It appeared the road conditions in this world were rather good. Also, the wagon had illumination mana tools that allowed it to travel at night if desired. Still, that wasn’t the safest option, so it was rarely taken. But as the driver had a golem wielder like me as a bodyguard and his cargo was perishable, it was both somewhat necessary and somewhat easier to do so this time. In any case, we had no problems.

After we returned to Mr. Chotos’s home and put young Teru to bed, three men sat in the living room to drink alcohol and snack on Mr. Chotos’s promised potato dish. I thought of it as a modest celebration for Mr. Chotos repaying his debt. The roster for this banquet included Mr. Chotos, me, and Ginem Bari. Gol folded laundry behind me.

Yup, Ginem Bari sat with us. I had forced him to come to Mr. Chotos’s house. He’d resisted, but I was to blame for all his injuries. My moral code refused to simply abandon him and go on my way.

If I thought logically about sitting down to drink with someone who had tried to kill me, it really didn’t make sense. Mr. Chotos was definitely baffled, and Ginem Bari was bewildered. But I couldn’t help it. I mean, I felt bad that while Mr. Chotos and I had been planning to drink, Ginem was being left out.

More importantly, the snack we shared with our drinks, the potato dish, used normal-looking potatoes, though they were slightly different from the ones in my original world. They were a little larger and a bit elongated. However, the difference in appearance was so slight it seemed like a mere graphics error.

We got this world’s version of potatoes from the old driver when he heard us excitedly discussing potato varieties. He ended up stopping at a village along the way and buying them for us. That grandpa really took good care of us all the way to the very end of the journey.

When we got home, Mr. Chotos skillfully prepared the potatoes in the kitchen. He boiled them, mashed them, and mixed them together with milk, eggs, butter, and salt.

You’re quite the cook, huh, mister? You’re a model single father caring for his child.

He poured the runny potato mix into a mold, plopped a small scrambled egg on top, and finished with a brush of a sweet-and-sour red sauce. He placed everything into an oven-like mana tool set and baked it until golden brown, at which point the kitchen was filled with a mouthwatering aroma. Finally, the strange potato dish from another world was complete.

However, how can I properly describe the appearance of this pie made from potatoes? Mr. Chotos placed the round dish on a large plate, cut it into slices with a knife, and set it on the table together with wine and grilled fish that resembled rainbow trout (we had bought it together with the potatoes at that one village.)

When I took a bite of the potato dish, my eyelids fluttered in satisfaction. Ah, it was like the potato version of Yorkshire pudding. Freshly baked, soft and flaky, and utterly delicious. Most importantly, the unfamiliar aroma overflowing with the emotions of this new world was…nice.

Mr. Chotos told us a story as we ate. Apparently, this was a classic home-cooked dish of this world and his deceased wife had often made it, though he claimed her version was far more delicious.

As Mr. Chotos and I talked potatoes, the bandaged Ginem Bari quietly chewed and muttered, “Accenting a dish with the unique aroma of sweet peppers is characteristic of far western cuisine.”

It was the first thing Ginem Bari had said since entering Mr. Chotos’s house.

“Is this a western dish, mister?” I asked.

“Hm? Ah. Yes. My late wife was born in the west,” Mr. Chotos replied.

“Huh…you know a lot, huh, Ginem? Are you also a potato dish enthusiast?” I asked.

“Hey, Nemaki, I ain’t some kinda enthusiast, got it?” Mr. Chotos snapped. “I just desperately tried to recreate this by imitating others so Teru could enjoy it like…like she used to make…”

“Ah, yeah, yeah. I get it, I get it. You keep repeating yourself. Hey, mister, you’re pretty drunk already, huh?”

As I bantered with the red-faced middle-aged man, Ginem Bari stared at the half-eaten potato dish with an odd cast of shame and said, “I was…also born in the west.”

“Hmph,” I said.

“It’s a nostalgic flavor. Just like the one my mom used to make for me as a kid,” Ginem said.

Before long, the hopeless Mr. Chotos had descended into the kind of drunk where he babbled fondly about his late wife with reddened eyes. This man was so devoted to her memory that it was kind of sad.

The utterly sauced merchant told his tale with tears welling. Back when he peddled as a young man, he had stopped by a small town in the far west, where he met and fell in love with a hairdresser’s daughter. She had beautiful chestnut hair and an innocent smile, making her exceptionally adorable. She was like an angel. The first two times he confessed his love to her, she rejected him. Yet he persisted, visiting the hairdresser whenever his bushy hair grew out. Finally, she gave in.

As the pair peddled through the territories together, they saved money until they could open a shop in Tibar. They were also nearly on the verge of giving up on children when they were blessed with one five years ago. Their adorable baby girl was born on a cold, snowy night. Mr. Chotos spent those days in bliss with his gentle wife and daughter.

Then both wife and daughter fell gravely ill. As his sickly wife weakened, she entrusted their daughter’s future to him. The last thing his wife told him was that she was happy. Those words had continued to support him through all the tough times.

Jeez, such a pure love story was like poison to the ears of single guys like Ginem Bari and me. I silently chugged the oddly salty wine left in my cup.

“Like I said…I would…no matter how much hair I lost… Just this hairstyle…filled with her feelings…” Mr. Chotos belched forlornly.

“Jeez,” I slurred. “You’ve gone an’ talked and drunk yourself t’sleep. What a hopeless drunkard, ha ha.”

At this moment, I heard sniffling from somewhere—like someone sobbing. When I looked to my side, I was surprised to find Ginem Bari crying.

Ughhh, come on! Give me a break.

“Ginem, don’ tell me yer cryin’ from Mr. Chotos’s love story. Jeez, yer a pitiful guy…”

“Guh… Yer sayin’ that, but aren’t you cryin’, too, Nemaki?” Ginem sniffed.

“Huh? Me, cryin’?” I sniffed. “I want you to stop…spreadin’ such base slander.”

Ginem Bari and I carried the lovely late wife’s drunken widower back to his bedroom so he wouldn’t catch a cold.

The night in sleepy Tibar wore quietly on. The starry sky peeked through the small window of the bedroom I shared with Gol, twinkling silently.