IOC - 5

Could it be that saving me from the Monster Forest and offering me that porridge were all just setups to offer me a job with room and board?

Why? Was he worried I’d take it as charity if he just asked me to work out of the blue? So he took the long way around, feeding me a meal first and then creating a natural excuse to put me to work?

…I didn't hate it. Labor with value is much better than a handout without merit.

I grew lost in thought as I chewed over Gilbert’s words. I had no place to set foot right now, and although I called it an inn, my house was no different from an abandoned shack, just as he said. There wasn't a single scrap of food left, nor anything that could be turned into money.

On top of that, I had no idea when I’d be able to return to my original world. Given the situation, Gilbert’s proposal wasn't a bad choice at all. 

In fact, it was the most realistic option for my current predicament. As if sensing my hesitation, Gilbert spoke again.

"I’ll give you 3 silver a month."

I pondered for a moment before asking quietly.

"Could I possibly get today’s daily wage in advance? There’s somewhere I need to go for a bit."

Gilbert looked surprised for a moment, perhaps expecting me to accept the offer immediately, but eventually, he reached into his pocket and handed me some coins.

"Here. 7 pennies."

As I accepted the money with both hands, my brain started working instantly. When you’ve lived at the bottom for a long time, looking at money triggers an instinctive calculation of exactly how efficiently you can stretch it.

That was why I had been stealing glances at Gilbert’s face. Emotions tend to reveal themselves through expressions, and reading those emotions allows you to spot a person's weaknesses. It was a habit deeply ingrained in me through years of surviving by my wits.

Though Gilbert’s face was half-covered in hair and hard to read, his nonchalant attitude suggested he wasn't the type to blatantly rip me off. Well, you never know with people, though.

Anyway. I looked away from Gilbert and down at the coins. Assuming the cost of the porridge I just ate was covered by the hours I’d already worked, 3 silver for a full month's work would total 300 pennies.

I gripped the coins tightly and stepped outside. The sky was already dark, and lanterns were flickering to life along the street. Noticing a small eatery with its lights on, I walked inside without hesitation.

"Hello. I’ll have a bowl of soup and a loaf of bread, please."

The owner gave me a curious look, perhaps he’d seen me cleaning at the inn earlier, but soon handed over the warm soup and bread.

A quick glance at the menu showed that the bread and soup cost 2 pennies. My heart stung slightly when I compared it to my daily wage. The dry bread got stuck in my throat, but I managed to force it down by soaking it in the soup first.

My stomach, growling from the day’s heavy labor, clamored for more. I chewed and swallowed the bread mechanically while beginning a realistic calculation in my head.

When can I leave this place? Will I wake up in reality tomorrow morning? Or... will this world become mine until the very end?

If it's the latter, I can't afford to miss Gilbert’s offer. Room and board provided, a guaranteed daily wage. It could be a pitfall, sure. But right now, it was the only hill I had to lean on. However, what if he’s planning to exploit me because I’ve lost my memory?

"…I won't let that happen."

As I twisted my lips, bread crumbs tumbled down. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and thought.

I know who I am. I’m a gritty miser who has survived all sorts of foul and dirty situations.

After reaching a quiet decision, I looked up and studied the owner’s expression. Taking a light breath, I struck up a conversation with an air of casual friendliness.

"You look well, sir. Your wife must take very good care of you. You have a happy family, don't you?"

The owner’s guarded gaze softened instantly. As expected, praise is a universal language, the perfect tool for melting suspicion. Besides, people often told me I had a friendly impression. …Wait, maybe not? I was still hiding my eyes behind these bangs.

I thought about brushing my hair back to show my face, but I lowered my hand at the sound of the owner’s warm voice.

"Haha, my wife is quite something. My daughter takes after her and is just as lovely. My two sons are a bit mischievous, though."

"Sounds like a wonderful family. Running a restaurant, you must be quite well-off."

"Well-off? My foot. Making food doesn't mean life is easy. With five mouths to feed, we’re barely scraping by. Even if I earn a day's worth, it's a tight squeeze to put a meal on the table for five."

I put on a concerned face and chimed in.

"I guess you don't have many customers lately."

The owner shrugged.

"Well, it's not subjugation season, so there are many days when I can't even sell twenty bowls of soup. We only manage to survive if we sell booze and meat along with it."

I quickly hammered away at the calculator in my head. Bread and soup for 2 pennies. Twenty bowls a day is only 40 pennies. Even adding meat or other items, I estimated the daily revenue at roughly 1 to 2 silver.

Having finished the calculation, I scraped the bottom of the soup bowl and stood up.

"That was a great meal."

"Finished already? Come to think of it, I haven't seen your face around before."

"I’ll be coming by often. I think I’ll be working at the inn over there."

"At Gilbert’s? I heard his workers have been running away lately..."

I didn't reply further. I just smiled and gave a polite bow. After confirming the owner's satisfied smile, I quietly opened the door and left.

When I returned to the inn, Gilbert stood up abruptly as if he had been waiting for me.

"Kid, where have you be, "

"It's Shion."

I corrected him, cutting him off, and then spoke clearly and firmly.

"Boss, I think 3 silver is too little. As you saw, I’m good at cleaning and I move fast. For your information, I’m also a kitchen assistant who knows how to cook. Isn't 3 silver a bit lacking for hiring someone like me?"

As I poured out the words like a rehearsed script, Gilbert stared at me as if he’d been hit with a brick.

"I’m doing the work of several people by myself. That’s a huge saving on labor costs. Plus, didn't you say your previous workers ran away because of monsters? That means there should be hazard pay. And while you offered room and board, I have my own inn, so I don't need the lodging."

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed slightly. Not wanting to lose my momentum, I caught my breath and pushed harder.

"So, yeah. 3 silver is too little. I think at least 5 silver is fair."

A brief silence followed my words. I could feel Gilbert calculating something in his head.

Was I being too bold?

I didn't waste time worrying about that.

All bosses know. Whether they manage from a desk or work on the floor, they can spot a useful worker instantly. And they can't help but prefer a quick-witted, efficient part-timer over a slow, unmotivated one. 

If a worker like that says they’ll quit? Naturally, a boss will pay more to keep them. How much more so when such a worker just rolled in on their own?

So, this was a piece of self-promotion to show my worth, as well as a wage negotiation.

Gilbert burst into a hollow laugh, seemingly dumbfounded by my brazenly confident demand.

"I thought you were a pitiful brat, but turns out you're just a cheeky one, eh?"

"I get that a lot."

What else could I do? All twenty-four-year-old orphan Baek Shion ever learned from the world was sheer guts.

Gilbert scratched his beard vigorously. After his hand moved back and forth through the coarse hair a few times, his movement stopped abruptly as if he’d made up his mind. He scanned me from head to toe before giving a short conclusion.

"The cup you broke earlier comes out of your pay."

"…You cruel boss."

"And what about the employee trying to bleed a flea dry? Isn't that cruel too?"

"You're a flea, Boss? If there’s a flea that big, it’s a monster."

Gilbert roared with laughter and ruffled my hair again. His rough touch made a mess of my hair, but strangely, it didn't feel unpleasant.

Anyway, that was how my first start in this world was decided: as an inn part-timer.

* * *

Two months have passed since I arrived, or rather, transmigrated, into this world. And I still haven't been able to return to my original world. I was lost in thought while wiping a table with a rag.

How can I get out of here? I pondered it every day, but no clear answer came to mind.

It wasn't that I was particularly rushed or anxious. Thinking about it, I didn't have a grand career back in Korea, nor did I have parents or close friends. So, there wasn't much difference between here and there. 

Besides, for reasons unknown, I could understand the language, and my job was still just part-time work. If anything, having my own house made this place slightly better. The only inconveniences were the lack of a smartphone and the rarity of spicy food.

"Kid, you said you knew how to cook, right?"

"Boss, why do you always call me 'kid'?"

When I snapped back grumpily, Gilbert ruffled my hair again.

Maybe it was because we both had curly hair. He was skillful at it, as if he were handling his own hair, without it getting tangled. 

Even I ended up cursing every time I washed my hair because my hands would get stuck, how does he touch it so easily?