IOC - 1

The inn was filled with a boisterous din. There were customers reeking of blood as if they’d just finished a subjugation mission, and monsters reacting to that scent, licking their lips. Yet, despite the glares they exchanged, no one drew a blade.

Why?

Because this was an inn built right on the border between humans and monsters. Whether they were adventurers or monsters, here, they were all just my customers.

Ding!

The small bell hanging at the entrance rang thinly. Reflexively, I looked up to see a man standing at the door. His thick beard hid the lower half of his face, and his brown curly hair fell over his eyes.

"Hey, kid. Is business good?"

"Has it ever been quiet?"

At my retort, Gilbert let out a low chuckle, stroking his beard.

"I never thought this dusty old inn would get so crowded."

"…I suppose so."

True, looking back, the beginning had been quite humble. In an inn filled with dust and cobwebs, a single bowl of gukbap (soup with rice) was all I had to offer.

Then, ding~ the bell rang clearly once more.

"Welcome! This is the Inn on the Border!"

A silver-haired man about to enter flinched at my boisterous greeting. Soon, his sculpted, noble face softened, and his blue eyes curved like half-moons, making everyone catch their breath. 

However, that smile vanished in an instant. He returned to his usual cold, stiff expression, and a low voice spoke over the noise.

"Shion. Give me today’s with a 'Love Spell' as well."

"Coming right up!"

His name was Teord Vallen Hardt. The Knight Commander of the Empire, a regular at this inn, and a total pushover.

"Fill a bowl of soup with happiness, go for it, earthen pot! With the power of love, Kyung!”

I drew a heart with both hands, blowing a "spell" into the soup. Watching this familiar display in silence, Teord picked up his spoon and took a sip.

A moment later, a faint smile spread across his lips.

"Delicious, as always."

"Thank you. That’ll be an extra silver, please."

He handed me a silver coin, his face clouded with satisfaction.

Then, ding the bell rang clearly again.

As the door opened, a long shadow stretched across the floor. Soon, a man with deep violet eyes and long black hair flowing over his shoulders stepped inside quietly.

"Welcome!"

At my bright greeting, the man scanned me slowly before curving his lips into a smirk.

"I didn't come for the soup today."

"It's not my day off, you know."

"Would it be difficult for you to spare some time this evening?"

I narrowed my eyes in a troubled expression. However, the man in front of me simply gave an unreadable smile despite my discomfort.

"Uh… I’m a bit busy today…"

"Dear me. It seems I’ve come on the wrong day."

The man before me was Geoffrey Marches Latour.

The Archmage of the Empire and another regular. On his days off, he dropped by the inn under the pretext of teaching me magic, and his lessons were never free.

Well, there used to be a price. Not anymore, of course.

Whether out of habit or on purpose, Geoffrey was fiddling with my hand again.

"Ahahaha."

I eventually forced a laugh and pulled my hand away.

Geoffrey usually chose days when the inn was quiet to visit. Lately, however, he had been showing up even on loud days like this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

What was he up to? He looked like a young man, but in reality, he was a sly old snake who had lived through ages, making him the trickiest one to deal with.

When I took a wary step back, Geoffrey gave an ambiguous smile, whether he’d read my expression or not, I couldn't tell, and I turned my head to avoid his gaze.

Then, once again, the bell rang clearly.

Ding!

"Welcome!"

Next to enter was a boy, no, more accurately, a youth standing on the boundary between boy and man, with blonde hair and golden eyes. He tilted his chin up and spoke irritably.

"You people have no sense of business ethics. To think you beat me here when I rushed straight from the Imperial Council."

The youth’s name was Lionel Edgar Luce Chevalier.

He was the Crown Prince of the Empire.

Why was the Crown Prince, who should be in the Imperial Palace, coming to this cramped inn for a bowl of soup?

I didn't know either. I suppose it just meant my soup was that good.

Or… I stole a glance at Lionel and gulped. Sensing something strange, Lionel flinched and took a step back.

Not missing the opportunity, Geoffrey ran a hand through his hair and smirked.

"Perhaps Your Highness’s legs are simply too short, making you slow?"

His tone was polite, but the intent was blatant mockery. Lionel’s face crumpled instantly, clearly thinking the same.

"Do you feel an itch in your throat if you don't provoke others?"

Sparks flew. Or rather, they only flew from Lionel’s side. Since Geoffrey remained nonchalant, it was only the Crown Prince who ground his teeth and swallowed his fury.

I shrugged and set two bowls of soup down in front of them.

"Don't fight in the inn. It makes the other customers uncomfortable."

Just as Lionel was about to grumble, a strange voice cut in.

"Indeed. Your lack of class is showing."

I turned my head to see a man sitting in the corner smirking. A black hood hung loosely over his reddish-black hair, and beneath it, blood-red eyes gleamed. 

Even while sitting, the air around him flickered strangely. As he stood up slightly, his massive build and long, beast-like claws immediately revealed he was not human.

"What are you looking at? Is shouting in a restaurant something to be so proud of that you’re glaring?"

Damian. He was the part-timer here, and a monster.

And yet, right now, he was insulting the Knight Commander, the Crown Prince, and the Archmage all at once.

The gazes of the three men clashed with Damian’s crimson eyes, making the atmosphere in the inn turn sharp and heavy in an instant.

Amidst the tension, I glanced at Damian’s claws. They grew long again. I’ll have to trim them after work today…

It was absurd that such a thought was the first thing to cross my mind in this disastrous atmosphere.

But as time passed, the heavy air showed no signs of easing. If anything, it grew sharper, pricking at my skin. By the time the air felt trapped in my lungs and my throat felt tight, I finally let out a long sigh in the center of it all.

"…Just eat quickly and get out, please."

Only when the words left my mouth did breathing become a little easier. The three men’s gazes shifted toward me for a moment, and I shrank my shoulders slightly.

Seriously, when did the inn business become such a mess?

Whenever this happened, I couldn't help but think that life was much easier when I was just a part-timer at the inn. I glanced sideways and met Gilbert’s eyes. He was watching me as if he were looking at a pitiful creature.

…I didn't know back then. I thought my life would be as simple as preparing meals and handing out spoons. I didn't realize I would end up so hopelessly entangled with these men.

"Shion, I want a Love Spell, too."

"I would like to hear it as well, for the first time in a while."

Lionel and Geoffrey spoke almost simultaneously, looking at me. As their piercing gazes fixed on me, Damian took a large stride toward me. 

The moment he reached out and fiddled with the string of my apron, the eyes of the three men collided head-on, and invisible sparks flew through the inn.

I looked at them and let out another deep sigh.

"…Haaa."

To start this story, we have to go back about six months.

# 01. Reincarnated as an Innkeeper

When I opened my eyes, a kitchen scene made of haphazardly assembled wooden planks filled my vision. Black soot was ingrained in every wall, and a thick layer of dust sat upon the old shelves. When I breathed in, the dust stuck to the inside of my nose, causing me to burst into a coughing fit.

"Cough, hack… What is this?"

A musty smell, a mix of mold, rusted iron, and water stains, stung the tip of my nose. I reflexively tried to cover my mouth, but I was holding a ladle.

Looking down, I saw an apron stained with grease tied tightly around my waist. Dazed, I set the ladle down and turned my palms over. There were hard calluses on every knuckle.

Of course, calluses themselves weren't unfamiliar. I used to work two or three part-time jobs a day, so they were actually quite common for me. But the feeling was different. It was an alien sensation, as if I were forcing myself into someone else's slippers.

Besides, why a ladle all of a sudden?

Did the dream continue from when I passed out drunk yesterday? Or had I woken up and started another part-time job without realizing it?

But the last time I worked in a restaurant was a month ago, and that place wasn't a ruin like this.

Creak~

The floor groaned unpleasantly with the slightest movement. The walls were gapped in places, letting the wind whistle through.

Forget a food safety inspection, this place isn't even fit for a human to live in.

"Ugh… the smell of dust."

Wiping my nose with my forearm, I stumbled toward a mirror.

There was no particular reason. It was just the only thing that caught my eye, and I felt strange in this apron. The flimsy mirror standing alone in the corner shook precariously whenever the wind brushed past. I stared straight at the face reflected in it and lost my mind.

"…What?"

A stranger was standing in the mirror. Or should I say, a strange mess?

Chestnut hair covered the face in tangled curls, completely obscuring the eyes. How could anyone see with bangs hanging down like this?

I hurriedly pushed the bangs aside. Only then were the features revealed.