My heart was thumping wildly. Just a second ago, I thought I was saved, now, the words "I'm screwed" were rising to my throat.
With a frozen face, I stammered.
"I-I don't have any money right now..."
As Gilbert stepped closer, I saw the corners of his mouth slowly curl up beneath his beard.
"Then you’ll have to pay with your body."
"……!"
I'm definitely screwed.
"Pay with... my body?"
I forced the words out, but my lips were trembling. I didn't expect much warmth in this world, but to be swindled so blatantly? And of all things, with my "body"? What on earth did this bearded man plan to do with me?
I crossed my arms in an 'X' and stepped back. Gilbert let out a huff of air through his nose.
"What, did you expect a free meal? There’s no such thing in the middle of a war."
"……."
He wasn't wrong. No matter how the boundaries were drawn, this world was clearly at war. Expecting a freebie when everyone was struggling to find their own next meal was probably shameless.
Actually, it was the same in the world I came from.
Whether it was the background of a divided country under a ceasefire or the harsh reality of life.
The idea of Koreans being full of warmth was a thing of the past. In my life of drifting through part-time jobs, I had learned one bitter truth.
The world is full of bosses who try to cut the minimum wage, split shifts into tiny fragments to avoid paying weekly holiday allowances, and fire you before you hit the one-year mark to avoid paying severance.
I had struggled so hard to avoid being mistreated, but even after transmigrating, nothing had changed.
That’s just how the world works. Those who have plenty can afford to be generous, but for those living day to day, life is always tight. It’s harsh, but there’s no helping it.
Still, where was this sorrow coming from? Despite knowing these facts for a long time, tears suddenly surged. A sense of injustice rose to my throat, and I barely managed to mutter through my breath.
"…I thought you were just giving it to me."
I wasn't usually this sentimental. It was painful to realize that even after dropping into a strange world, my circumstances hadn't changed one bit.
Whether in Korea or here, it felt like I could never escape being the one living on someone else's charity.
Seeing my eyes grow moist, Gilbert paused. He reached out with a large hand, ruffled my fluffy hair, and grumbled.
"Who said anything about eating you alive? I’m saying this because your clothes are perfect for the job."
"……?"
I was wearing an apron stained with grease. Gilbert casually flicked the edge of it with his finger.
"Work here, you."
"…What?"
For a moment, I was dazed. An innkeeper being told to work as a part-timer at another inn? Could there be a more ridiculous contradiction?
"C-can't we just count it as a loan?"
"If you borrow, you pay back. There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world."
Gilbert glanced at me and smirked. Even though the smile was hidden by his beard, he looked infuriatingly sly.
"Don't worry. All you have to do is clean and serve. Everyone else ran away, and I’m short-handed anyway."
"They ran away?"
"Monsters have been showing up too often."
Cold sweat trickled down my spine at his nonchalant tone. Trying to suppress my anxiety, I looked around.
Now that I was really looking, I noticed the thick layer of dust on the tables and the stains encrusted on the floor.
The porridge I ate earlier was delicious, but the hygiene of the dishes was a disaster for actual customers.
"…I, uh, have my own inn, you know?"
When I offered a cautious protest, Gilbert’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Where?"
"Over there, near the Border."
"The Border?"
Gilbert scratched his head, seemingly lost in thought. His drifting gaze told me he was trying to recall something.
"Come to think of it, there was something on the Border. But it’s just an abandoned shack, isn't it?"
He hit the nail on the head. It was an old house, dilapidated enough to be called an abandoned shack. But still, it was my only asset! Indignation flared up, and I shouted before I could stop myself.
"Even so! Why does an innkeeper have to work as an inn part-timer?!"
Gilbert snorted and threw out a single line.
"Then pay up."
"……."
As I fell silent like I’d swallowed a bee, Gilbert let out a chuckle and scratched his chin with his thick hand.
"That’s just how the world is. Innkeeper or not, if you don't have money, you work a part-time job, kid."
"……."
I was convinced.
After all, my life up until a moment ago involved working three jobs.
Once Gilbert saw me giving in, he started barking orders like a man on a mission, do this, do that. But I had years of part-timer experience.
When I started working with expert efficiency, Gilbert looked at him with surprised eyes. That reaction was a bit annoying, so I intentionally made a few mistakes.
You shouldn't be too good at a part-time job. If a boss thinks you can do everything alone, they won't hire anyone else and will make you do the work of three people. I’d dealt with far too many bosses who did exactly that while wearing the kindest faces.
"So, kid, you're really the owner of that place?"
At his suspicious gaze, I answered defensively.
"Yes. And I’m not a kid, okay? I’m twenty-four."
Gilbert’s eyes widened again. Well, I couldn't see them clearly, but I guessed as much by the way his eyebrows shot up through his shaggy hair.
That expression made me feel a bit bitter. Was it because I grew up underfed? Or because I always gave up my share to the younger kids at the orphanage? I was small-framed.
Even during puberty, I barely made it past average height, and I was still as thin as ever.
I didn't know the average build of people in this world, but since Gilbert was as big as a mountain, I was definitely on the smaller side if everyone else was like him.
While mopping the floor, a lump formed in my throat.
When other people transmigrate into books, they become kings or nobles, so why am I an innkeeper? They could have at least changed my build. Or given me some muscle.
I scrubbed the floor even harder.
Or even just... couldn't they have made me half a span taller?
As I was vigorously wiping a table, Gilbert suddenly asked.
"By the way, why were you trying to crawl into the Monster Forest earlier?"
"Usually, if one side is a wasteland and the other is a forest, you naturally go toward the forest. I thought the forest path led to a village."
"Didn't you receive a basic education?"
This oversized bearded guy really knew how to poke where it hurts. I slammed the rag onto the table and shot back.
"Geez, then just how great of an education did you receive, mister? And stop calling me a kid! I told you, it’s Shion! Shion!"
It wasn't even like I asked for the porridge, yet here I was working unfairly because I ate it, and on top of that, this bearded guy kept grating on my nerves with every word he threw out.
I was already heated, it was impossible not to be annoyed.
When I finally snapped at him sharply, Gilbert paused and scratched his beard with his massive hand.
"Well, I mean... isn't it common sense that that place is the Monster Forest?"
"……."
My face flushed. Was my complex about not going to college going to trip me up here too? My heart felt stung, and I whipped my head away. Suddenly, Gilbert ruffled my hair and muttered.
"Who’s saying anything? I’m just as uneducated as you are. Education is for the high-and-mighty folk."
"……."
So this world also runs on money. Talent is just a curse without money, and the ones with money are the ones who get to flaunt their studies and skills.
Why does this have to be so realistically depressing? If this is a transmigration story, shouldn't it be full of dreams and hope?
But I knew. Even if I had transmigrated into a wonderful place, I still wouldn't have been the shining protagonist, I would have been a lowly extra.
I bit my lip and changed the subject.
"Then why did you go in there, mister?"
"There's a mushroom that only grows there. It makes a killer broth. Customers keep coming back for that taste."
"...Then why did you bring the frying pans?"
"Freshly picked ones taste best when grilled on the spot. That’s why I brought them."
I snorted and looked away, but Gilbert’s voice followed me.
"And what’s with this 'mister'? You should call me Boss."
"Only if you stop calling me 'kid'."
Gilbert snorted exactly the way I just had and spoke in a low voice.
"Hah, for a little brat, you've certainly got a foul mouth."
You naturally gain a silver tongue when you work part-time jobs for a long time. After years in the service industry dealing with nightmare customers, you learn to say all sorts of things.
By the time I finished mopping the floors and wiping the tables, it had grown dark. I finally put down the rag and started packing my things to return to the inn where I had first woken up.
Suddenly, Gilbert asked.
"Do you live at that inn alone?"
"Yes."
"What have you been doing with your life, living there without even knowing about the Monster Forest?"
"…I woke up and realized I’d lost some of my memory."
Gilbert stared at me. I couldn't see his expression clearly through the hair and beard, but a vibe of pity wafted from him.
"If you don't even know about the Monster Forest, does that mean you’ve forgotten all basic common sense?"
"…Yes, well."
"Hmm..."
Stroking his long beard, Gilbert spoke as if he’d reached a decision.
"Work here for the time being."
"Excuse me?"
"I’ll provide room and board, and I’ll pay you a proper daily wage. You said you don't know how the world works, right? What are you going to do in that abandoned shack on the Border? You'll be lucky if you don't end up as monster bait."
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