Short Story 6: Longdagger Hunting Diary (Ogre-like)
Short Story 6: Longdagger Hunting Diary (Ogre-like)
When one speaks of learning magic, most people misunderstand. Its essence is not memorization.
While memorizing the Magic Circle is indeed part of it, people are surprisingly vague when it comes to the stage of actually constructing it within their own bodies.
The reality is that most people construct Magic Circles based on a vague feeling.
So, does this mean magic will activate even if the Magic Circle is vague or roughly correct? No, it will not activate.
This can be confirmed with Magic Tools, which similarly use Magic Circles.
Magic Tools are created by processing Magic Stones and embedding Magic Circles within them. If an incorrect Magic Circle is inscribed during this process, the tool will exhibit no effect whatsoever.
This implies that only when humans construct Magic Circles within their bodies does magic activate even with vaguely drawn circles.
This was truly a mysterious thing, a fact that made many people tilt their heads, wondering how it didn’t defy logic.
The Church stopped thinking deeply about it, claiming it was merely an imitation of a Divine Technique.
The nobility concluded it was a matter of aptitude and bloodline.
And adventurers, from the start, were fine with anything as long as it worked.
But for Shin Longdagger, the second son of an astonishingly Impoverished Viscount Household, this was not the case.
Shin understood why this happened through physical sensation and experience.
Due to his special constitution that allowed him to see Magicka, he could, if he chose, see the Magic Circles being constructed within his body.
Because he could barely use magic that was emitted from the body, he had passionately dedicated himself to learning magic since childhood, to the point where his Magicka would run dry. That’s how he noticed it.
He realized that when constructing a Magic Circle, building the same circle in the same location made the process smoother than before.
This became more pronounced the more he repeated it, and by the time he had repeated it so many times it became foolish to count, it felt almost automatic.
Shin, who visually perceived this phenomenon that magic users felt experientially, decided thereafter to intentionally assign specific Magic Circles to specific parts of his body.
In other words, for Shin Longdagger, learning magic meant repetition.
*
It takes half a year to learn how to heal a scratch.
This phrase expresses the difficulty of learning Healing Magic, and Jenniferlin Pantile knew it was no exaggeration at all.
After all, she was the eldest daughter of a Baron House.
She had been taught magic since childhood, especially Healing Magic, from an early age.
Teaching one’s children magic is a common practice among nobles, but Healing Magic is given the highest priority.
Learning Healing Magic can prevent death from injury and guards against the threat of poisoning.
The reason many noble children die before the age of ten is partly due to the time it takes to master Healing Magic, but also because assassination attempts are easier at that age.
Still, even so—.
Jenniferlin Pantile, a genius of commerce, investment, and spending, known as the most Pantile-like Pantile, thought that she herself could likely never use such absurd Healing Magic.
Shin Longdagger, who had just mended his own arm bone the instant it was broken, roared.
Doesn’t it hurt?
“Oi! I’ve still got two arms, you bastard!”
Ah, I see. He’s putting up a brave front.
Jenniferlin felt relieved at the obvious fact that even Shin felt pain when his arm bone was broken.
*
Is that girl really the same age as me, thirteen?
Shin almost tilted his head at the magical scene unfolding before his eyes.
It happened on the morning of the second day after departing the Royal Capital.
An hour after cleaning up the campsite, packing the sleeping bag into a compact form with Guts and willpower, and starting to walk while gnawing on dried meat for breakfast.
It all started when we found an old woman with a troubled face and a merchant-like man.
They had stopped their respective carriages by the roadside and seemed to be arguing, or rather, it looked like the merchant was unilaterally talking at the old woman.
Seeing this, Jenniferlin approached with bouncing steps, not giving Shin a chance to stop her, and stuck her nose into their business.
There wasn’t a shred of hesitation or reservation, let alone any goodwill.
If forced to describe it, if Shin Longdagger were forced to describe her actions.
He would say she simply did it because she wanted to.
If Jenniferlin heard him, Shin mused that she would say something exasperated like, “It’s not as bad as your unconscious arrogant greed.”
Naturally, such a person would be met with suspicious gazes from both parties, wondering who she was.
But Jenniferlin brilliantly shattered that suspicion with just a few words. The somewhat clever merchant realized his control had been instantly snatched away and tried to resist, but he was steamrolled in less than a minute.
The eldest daughter of the Pantile House, richer than most Marquis Houses—no, richer than almost all Marquis Houses—and a girl who had likely just experienced camping without even a tent for the first time, spoke incessantly with a liveliness unbecoming of someone who had just done so.
By the time Shin, who had followed slowly, stood beside Jenniferlin, she had, terrifyingly, become the complete arbiter.
Both the old woman and the merchant were listening intently to the words of Jenniferlin, who should have been a sudden intruder.
“Ah, Merchant-dono. Profit is indeed important. That is the very essence. Failing to increase one’s profit margin when the opportunity arises is unworthy of being called a Merchant. However, even so, there must be a code we adhere to, precisely because we are Merchants. If there is no benefit for the other party in a negotiation, it cannot be called business. Just taking is no different from being a plunderer, is it? We don’t pull our carriages for such trivial reasons, do we? Such tastelessness should be left to those nobles who can do nothing but collect taxes. We Merchants, if we are truly Merchants, should enrich, increase, and distribute, building our wealth upon the overflowing goods and riches!”
What a fast talker.
More importantly, she just equated plunderers and nobles.
Shin resisted the urge to say, “You’re a noble too.”
He knew that interjecting wouldn’t stop Jenniferlin and would only complicate things further.
From picking up snippets of Jenniferlin’s speech, Shin understood that the man was a Merchant from the Royal Capital who had just finished some business in Sudvaldo and was now on his way back.
Perhaps his business hadn’t gone well, or maybe the timing was bad, but it seemed he was heading back to the Royal Capital with an empty cargo hold.
Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for the old woman, there was a carriage stranded on the road.
Wondering if it could be a business opportunity, he inquired and learned she was from a nearby farming village, heading to the City of Sudvaldo to sell her produce.
However, her carriage broke down, leaving her stranded. The sharp-eyed Merchant, figuring he might as well not return empty-handed, approached the old woman.
Shall I buy your goods? he proposed.
The problem was that the merchant tried to make a deal that took far too much advantage of the old woman’s plight.
And his misfortune was that a Pantile showed up right then and there.
At first, it was probably just simple curiosity.
And now, whether out of sympathy for the old woman, or her PPride as a Merchant, or something else Shin didn’t know, she was delivering a speech—hard to tell if it was instigation or persuasion—ranting that unfair business practices could not be tolerated.
Seeing the man, whose cheeks were flushed for some reason as if excited, say things like “The young lady’s right!” and agree to the ‘fair price’ Jenniferlin had calculated, Shin couldn’t help but sigh.
If he ever had to negotiate a price with Jen, he decided he would just silently accept whatever she offered.
If he foolishly tried to negotiate, he’d probably end up red-faced and paying something outrageous.
*
Feeling she had meddled just a little, just a tiny bit too much, Jenniferlin helped Shin transfer the cargo.
She handed a black card to the merchant whose empty carriage was now filled.
“If you’re selling in the Royal Capital, sell to a Pantile Merchant. Don’t worry, show them this card, and they won’t treat you poorly.”
The man looked back and forth between the card and Jenniferlin for a moment, then tilted his head.
“I have a slight connection with the Pantiles. Rest assured, nothing bad will happen.”
Shin looked at Jenniferlin as if wanting to say something, but she didn’t look his way.
Even if she had, she probably would have just returned a sarcastic smile.
After seeing off the merchant’s carriage, the old woman spoke to her.
“Thank you, young lady.”
The old woman thanked Jenniferlin with a smile.
Her hands, clasped before her chest in a gesture resembling prayer, were sunburnt and gnarled—the hands of a hard worker.
They were also the hands of someone who had lived for many years in a poor farming village, unable to reside in a city protected by a Barrier.
And those were the hands Jenniferlin liked.
Jenniferlin Pantile, who revered Greed, cherished and adored the very steps taken out of Greed.
That was why she liked the hands of old people who had walked most of that path.
She didn’t consider the results of their steps.
Even if the result of those steps amounted to mediocrity, even if age shortened their stride.
She liked those hands that had taken those precious steps, one after another.
“What? It’s just a whim. When it comes to accumulating vice and being true to my own desires, I yield to no one. I’m that kind of villain, you see.”
And so, Jenniferlin got embarrassed.
When embarrassed, she resorted to self-deprecating remarks.
Unfortunately, the old woman lacked education and couldn’t quite understand Jenniferlin’s phrasing, simply thinking she was embarrassed because she averted her gaze.
Just as she was about to say something more in response, a voice called out from the shadow of the Freight Wagon.
“Jen, give me a hand for a second.”
Saved before I said something weird out of embarrassment, Jen thought as she asked back.
“What is it, Shin?”
“The axle’s just a bit misaligned, so I can fix it right here. I feel bad asking our client, but could you come over here and help?”
You weren’t planning on leaving her anyway, were you?
Thinking, Don’t say unnecessary things, she strode roughly towards Shin.
The old woman’s voice saying, “Thank you,” from behind her felt unbearably ticklish.
My friend, Shin, you really should learn to read the room, my friend.
“Why do you look so grumpy?”
Shin, who was crouching beside the Freight Wagon, looked up with a puzzled expression.
“Someone like you, Shin, who’s lived life trampling over sensitivity, probably wouldn’t understand. Rest assured, this isn’t sarcasm, just a statement of fact.”
Shin merely responded with a shrug.
A wry smile appeared on his face.
“Still, it’s lucky we can fix it easily. Otherwise, the next Merchant passing by would have probably snatched the Freight Wagon for a ridiculously low price.”
Oh? Challenging this Pantile to a battle of sarcasm, are we, my friend?
Jenniferlin gave a faint smile.
“How rude. Don’t underestimate me, my friend. Pay money? I’d make them offer it up with a smile.”
She didn’t even feel the need to speak at length to cut Shin down with sarcasm. She felt a sense of satisfaction as Shin fell silent at her response.
Suddenly, Shin’s expression turned serious, and he murmured.
“True.”
“Stop that, your reply hurts. The Pantiles are a delicate family.”
Shin stared at her with exasperated eyes.
“Troublesome—”
“The Pantiles are a troublesome family, though not as much as you.”
Jenniferlin silenced Shin before he could finish, asking with just her gaze what help he needed.
The Pantiles are easily hurt.
Before Shin, who swallowed everything with a single sigh in response to her gaze, could give instructions, a seriousness different from before appeared on his face.
Shin’s hand reached for the hilt of the Sword hanging at his waist.
“Jen, Physical Enhancement.”
Shin said, his voice slightly raised.
Jenniferlin didn’t make the mistake of asking, What? and cast the Physical Enhancement magic.
Her enhanced ears picked up a sound.
This is… the sound of a carriage. And at a reckless speed, not caring if the carriage breaks.
Driving a carriage at such speed on the highway limited the possible situations.
Either fleeing from Monsters or fleeing from bandits.
No, wait, that only leaves one possibility, doesn’t it? Jenniferlin wiped the sweat forming on her palms onto her skirt with a wry smile.
The old woman looked bewildered at the two emerging from the Freight Wagon’s shadow with an obviously different atmosphere than before.
They stood protectively, shielding the old woman behind them.
The sight of the Freight Wagon racing recklessly down the highway was already visible.
Shin spoke with exasperation.
“First, he gets tangled up with Jen, and now what’s he tangled up with? What an unlucky Merchant.”
The Merchant they had just parted ways with was in the Coachman’s seat, waving his hands and shouting at them.
“He seems to be saying ‘Run away,’ doesn’t he? My friend.”
She spoke in a voice enhanced by Physical Enhancement, which would likely sound like mere squeaking to the old woman.
“Do you want to run?”
The reply came in an unexpectedly gentle voice.
If I said yes, Shin would probably do it. He’d likely grab the old woman and do so immediately. Jenniferlin felt irritated by that kindness.
She was irritated that Shin had presented her with the option of running away.
Why did I even ask Shin? Saying things like, ‘He seems to be saying Run away?’
She was irritated with herself for prompting him to offer such a choice. He probably only said it because he saw me wipe the sweat from my palms.
“Do you know the price of a Freight Wagon and horse?”
Jenniferlin said, glancing at the old woman behind her.
“Very expensive?”
Perhaps sensing something in Jenniferlin’s tone, a hint of jest entered Shin’s voice.
Nice, my friend. That’s good.
“Somewhat more expensive than my family’s lunch, yes.”
I see, Shin nodded with interest.
“Then make today’s lunch a luxurious one, Client-dono.”
“Consider it done.”
The Merchant fleeing in the carriage was shouting and gesturing desperately, trying to tell them to run.
Moreover, seeing that they weren’t running, wasn’t he trying to slow down?
Is he fundamentally a good person?
Jenniferlin smiled faintly.
If he could afford to be good-natured in a life-threatening situation, well, perhaps giving that Merchant her card wasn’t a mistake after all.
My firm likes fools.
My firm has gained a good acquaintance. The transaction is profitable.
Jenniferlin looked at the Merchant slowing the carriage with a determined face and took a deep breath.
“Merchant-dono! Keep going, don’t stop! We’ll be fine!”
Now, will this confident voice of mine get through to him?
Jenniferlin’s loud voice certainly reached the Merchant, caused some hesitation, and succeeded in making him drive past without stopping.
Instead, the voice that reached them was the old woman’s trembling one.
“You young ones, run away! Leave an old crone like me and escape!”
Jenniferlin and Shin looked back at the old woman.
The old woman’s gaze was fixed on the thing chasing the carriage, which was already visible.
Her eyes clung to a fragile hope.
Monsters don’t attack creatures other than humans, though they might eliminate them as obstacles. So, if I act as a decoy, if I just divert its path slightly, the Freight Wagon shouldn’t be destroyed.
And if luck is on my side, it might decide to ignore an old woman like me.
She couldn’t help but cling to such an impossibly slim hope.
The old woman had that look in her eyes.
Jenniferlin slowly shook her head.
Jenniferlin didn’t know if the horse and Freight Wagon belonged to the old woman personally or were communal village property.
But she understood why the old woman had to have such eyes.
For commoners, especially those in farming villages unable even to live in towns, retreat paths were not abundant. One step back, and they were immediately at a cliff’s edge.
Losing the horse and Freight Wagon was an event surprisingly close to death.
And so, the old woman would step forward.
She would risk her life, taking a step driven by Greed.
Not freezing in place, but forward.
How endearing.
Just as Jenniferlin opened her mouth to reassure the old woman, Shin stole the opportunity.
“Old woman.”
Ah, there was another one here.
“That thing is mine.”
One who takes that endearing step of Greed.
“If you want it, at least stop your voice from trembling.”
Saying that, Shin Longdagger revealed a smile with the “Lid off.”
The boy named Shin Longdagger had a bad habit.
A bad habit where, somehow, he just couldn’t help feeling a strong sense of satisfaction when fighting Monsters.
That damp, nagging part of his heart, the one that seemed like it would cause deep regret if he looked too closely, only dried up completely when he fought Monsters.
Especially when he fought alone.
He had once worried that his mind might be a little strange.
But after mustering the courage to ask his adventurer mentor, Barbara, who told him she had been the same way when she was young, he stopped worrying about it.
It’s probably just some kind of adolescent phase.
That’s how Shin interpreted it.
As Shin drew the mass-produced Sword hanging from his waist from its sheath, he thought idly.
He had never discussed this with anyone other than his mentor, but maybe he should try talking to Jen about it sometime.
Jen, who would just look exasperated and say, “Yes, yes, Greed, Greed,” upon seeing him draw his Sword, might know a different answer.
Jenniferlin used her Appraisal Skill to look at it.
Ogre-like. In Faltar, it was said to be a Monster that Rank 5 or 6 adventurers could hunt safely.
Of course, that came with the prerequisite conditions of being one-on-one, in perfect health,
From Jenniferlin-san’s perspective, knowing the circumstances of other countries, the very method of evaluating it as something that could be safely hunted one-on-one seemed utterly insane.
My country really is a bit strange.
Putting that aside, its characteristics, as indicated by the ridiculous name “Ogre-like,” meant its appearance closely resembled an Ogre.
Its Physique was about three to four meters tall, its entire body covered in thick muscle, its human-like face had a mouth full of sharp fangs, and horns grew from its head.
Its skin color was a grayish pale blue, also the same as a regular Ogre.
So, what exactly made it Ogre-“like”? It had four arms.
Why wasn’t it called something like Four-Armed Ogre, but instead Ogre-like?
The person who named it was probably someone from Faltar, I suspect.
Watching the Ogre-like, which had likely changed its target from the fleeing carriage to them, Jenniferlin-san almost tilted her head at the namer’s sense.
The Ogre-like came running towards them at full speed.
Perhaps sensing they had no intention of fleeing, the Ogre-like let out a roar at their insolence.
Imbued with Magicka, it was a type of magic; if caught off guard, it could even stop the movements of high-Rank adventurers.
That Merchant fellow managed to escape well, Jenniferlin-san thought, impressed.
He must have luckily noticed it before it got close. Being lucky is a good thing, especially for a Merchant.
At the Ogre-like’s roar, Shin-san frowned unpleasantly, and Jenniferlin-san braced herself with Guts in her lower abdomen.
She could sense the old woman collapsing behind them.
The Ogre-like charged in at the speed of about a Rank 4 adventurer.
Ogres in general have high physical abilities; even the Golden Ogre, said to be the slowest, moved comparably to a Rank 3 using Physical Enhancement.
The Ogre-like, aside from having four arms, didn’t have abilities like magic resistance, but instead, it was fast.
Jenniferlin-san slightly regretted her decision not to bring a weapon for this request.
The sight of the Monster approaching at a speed equal to her own full power had enough impact to make Jenniferlin-san feel that way.
But well, even if I had a weapon, if I interfered, you’d probably get grumpy, wouldn’t you?
As Jenniferlin-san thought this, she glanced at Shin-san standing beside her.
The figure of the boy she knew as the most unconsciously arrogant and greedy vanished.
Half a beat later, a heavy impact sound rang out.
Jenniferlin-san was dumbfounded, exasperated.
Not because of the speed that made him seem to vanish, nor because he charged head-on at the Ogre-like without fear.
But because Shin-san had punched the Ogre-like’s face with his left arm.
My friend, oh my friend, what is that Sword you hold in your right hand?
Ignoring the abnormality of punching a Monster bare-handed, or the shock of the Ogre-like’s huge body staggering, Jenniferlin-san couldn’t help but ask, what is that thing you’re holding in your right hand?
Perhaps out of Pride for being a type of Ogre, even if just “-like.”
While its Physique staggered, the Ogre-like punched back at Shin-san’s body, which had lifted off the ground to punch its face.
The boy who had vanished from beside her returned in the time it took to blink several times, sent flying.
“Are you sane? Or is that Sword just for decoration?”
“I punched it precisely because I’m sane, Jen.”
Perhaps anticipating the counterattack, Shin-san, having been knocked away by the Ogre-like, landed neatly on his feet and replied.
Terrifyingly, the Ogre-like was staggering, having taken damage from the punch.
“With my skill with the Sword, taking its head off is impossible. The Sword would break.”
Isn’t that less a problem of your skill with the Sword, and more that the Sword can’t keep up with your strength?
Jen swallowed those words.
“I can’t help but remember someone refusing the offer of a Sword from someone somewhere.”
Sarcasm came out instead.
Isn’t he an idiot? My friend might be a bit of an idiot, she thought, and couldn’t stop the words from escaping her mouth.
“It’s fine.”
Jenniferlin-san instantly understood.
The sarcasm hadn’t gotten through.
Shin-san said as he sheathed his Sword.
“Humans have two arms.”
“Meaning?”
She asked purely out of obligation.
“Next time, the attack power is doubled. Doubled.”
“Forgive me, my friend, but I don’t understand idiot-speak.”
Shin-san tilted his head, his gaze still fixed on the Ogre-like.
“Is that Jen-style sarcasm, metaphorically implying that since the right arm is the dominant one, it should be more than double?”
Where was the metaphor?
Jenniferlin-san felt a serious doubt.
“Rest assured, I just suddenly felt the urge to confess my own ignorance.”
I see, Jen has it tough too.
Hearing Shin-san reply like that, Jenniferlin-san felt a headache coming on. She wanted to tell him, that was metaphorical sarcasm, you know? Though she hadn’t expected him to get it from the start.
She couldn’t even be surprised anymore by the sight of the Ogre-like, having regained its posture, charging at them again.
＊
Using his left arm as a shield, he thrust his right fist into its open stomach as if twisting it in.
The Ogre-like writhed in agony, and Shin Longdagger’s left arm broke.
Shin-san healed his broken left arm with Healing Magic, then shouted, knowing it wouldn’t understand.
“Hey! I’ve still got two arms, you bastard!”
It was a shout to avoid buckling under the pain of the broken bone, a shout to forcibly drag his thoughts, pulled by the pain, back to the fight before him.
Shouting, ah, while shouting.
Shin-san felt himself drying out.
The dampness that relentlessly, unconsciously, yet still tormented him was drying up, helplessly drying up.
Not because of the pain.
He had felt pain greater than this many times during training with his master.
As an unexaggerated fact, he had come close to death many times.
That wasn’t it; what he needed was conflict. Only when fighting Monsters did his heart dry out.
To Shin-san, who kept averting his eyes from the damp, festering parts of his heart that he would regret looking at closely, the conflict itself simply felt enjoyable.
No, Shin Longdagger even averted his eyes from the fact that he felt it was enjoyable. But right now, Shin-san’s heart was certainly dry.
Shin-san, clenching his fists tightly, didn’t notice the corners of his own mouth turning up.
Shin-san roared.
＊
“Ah—what kind of face is that? Jen.”
Shin Longdagger asked this after firmly swallowing a thick piece of pork and carrots stewed until falling apart.
The location was the dining hall attached to an inn in Sudvaldo.
Unfortunately, because the carriage repairs took longer than expected, the promised luxurious lunch had become a luxurious dinner.
Even calling it luxurious, it was just the most expensive item in the inn’s dining hall, far from what Jenniferlin-san would consider luxurious.
For Shin-san, however, just having a big piece of meat was more than luxurious enough.
So, Shin-san was thoroughly enjoying the “luxurious” dinner, but it seemed his friend before him, Jenniferlin Pantile, was not.
“My friend, what kind of face does it look like?”
Even Shin-san, who was called an enemy of sensitivity or said to have trampled it underfoot throughout his life, could tell.
That Jenniferlin-san was suppressing a sigh.
“The soup is salty.”
That didn’t mean he got the right answer.
“Give me back the sigh I suppressed.”
Jenniferlin-san said this, then bit off a chunk of bread whole and chewed as if to say, “I can’t deal with this.”
Her manners were unbecoming of a nobleman’s daughter, but she didn’t care.
“You wouldn’t understand the feelings of the pitiful Pantile, who expected to be thanked but was instead thoroughly feared by the old lady.”
After turning the Ogre-like into Magic Stone Fragments, what greeted them was the old woman’s terrified gaze.
If anything, I think she was more terrified than when she saw the Ogre-like.
At least when the old woman saw the Ogre-like, she still had the will, however faint, to cling to the slimmest chance of a miracle.
The old woman’s eyes looking at them were eyes that had accepted despair.
Isn’t that cruel? We saved her, you know?
Pantile is easily hurt.
Even thinking that, Jenniferlin-san also thought, well, it can’t be helped.
Anyone would be scared seeing an idiot fist-fighting an Ogre-like right in front of them.
What’s more, that idiot won the fistfight.
Is he an idiot? He’s human, isn’t he? Use tools, tools! Even monkeys use tools, are you less than a monkey?
“She was grateful, wasn’t she? She was using polite language.”
She was scared!
Jenniferlin-san desperately held back the urge to shout at Shin-san’s words.
“Thanks to that, even though I went to the trouble of giving her the Ogre-like’s Magic Stone, it felt like I was handing over consolation money.”
How sad, thinking that the old woman would thank me profusely if I gave her the Magic Stone.
Jenniferlin recalled this as she shoveled soup into her mouth, a substitute for drowning her sorrows in drink.
She remembered the eyes the old woman had turned on her when she offered the Magic Stone—eyes swimming in the fear of what might be demanded in return for accepting it.
Isn’t that cruel? Sure, she had acted with the ulterior motive of wanting Words of Gratitude, but those eyes were uncalled for, those eyes.
She thought this while roughly chewing the well-flavored vegetables.
The broth is good, but it’s definitely too salty.
“It’s not like you did it just because you wanted Words of Gratitude, right?”
Jenniferlin managed to swallow the words “You’re one to talk?” only because her mouth was still full of vegetables.
You, who dislikes sharing anything about your actions or their results, you, who, likely due to the unconscious arrogance born from your own high abilities, places the highest value on Words of Gratitude—you’re saying that to me?
She went beyond anger to exasperation, and then circled back to anger.
But it vanished once she swallowed the vegetables.
Hmm, the broth really is good.
“I did want that gratitude, Shin.”
What came out instead were her true feelings.
It was surely because of the delicious broth, and the rough atmosphere of this diner where they could just be nobodies.
“It’s just my nature to become incredibly happy when grandpas and grandmas of the world thank me, you know.”
Shin made a strange face.
“What a troublesome fami—”
She cut him off.
“Don’t misunderstand, my friend. It’s my nature. The Pantiles don’t need any more strange epithets attached to them.”
Jenniferlin corrected Shin’s misunderstanding.
Was that a wry smile Shin showed in response to her words?
Jenniferlin couldn’t tell. She looked away, embarrassed for revealing such silly true feelings at this point.
“What a troublesome Jenniferlin.”
You’re one to talk.
Jenniferlin thought this and put soup in her mouth, still looking away. Shin’s teasing voice was irritating.
She didn’t receive any Words of Gratitude, Shin teased her—today was a total loss.
I’ll make up for it somehow, someday.
At the very least, I’ll replace Shin’s Sword with a decent one. He probably won’t notice if the shape is similar, so I’ll swap it secretly.
That’ll probably put me back in the black.
Jenniferlin Pantile drank her soup while thinking about how to recoup her losses.
The soup was, after all, a little too salty.
*** Afterword ***
Apparently, there’s a protagonist in the future who gets exasperated at the heroine, saying, “You’re human, so let’s use tools!” (Episode 57).
By the way, the person himself seems to be saying this is fine, because he couldn’t possibly use a Sword knowing it would break if used.
Thank you always for the comments, likes, ratings, etc.
They are truly encouraging.
I’ve upgraded my equipment from just underwear to at least wearing socks.