by Yuu Tanaka
Fran’s kick landed squarely in the back of the thug’s head. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.
Excuse me, Fran, what happened to “not going too crazy”?
What? He’s not dead. I didn’t even cut him.
I guess that was her idea of “not going crazy.” Well, the guy was still in one piece, at least. Might as well let him take a nap.
“Huh? What?”
“Are you okay?” Fran asked Io, who was trying to work out what had just happened.
“Y-yes. Somehow… But is he all right?”
Io approached the man with genuine worry, although she didn’t go so far as to kneel by his side. The man’s unconscious face scared her. She didn’t have the stomach for it.
“O-oh dear, what shall we do? He doesn’t look well at all…”
“Don’t worry. He’s not dead.”
As they spoke, Jet fenced off the children. They were scared of him at first, and the most fearful even broke into tears. But the direwolf rolled over and showed his belly in a show of submission, and soon enough the kids were playing with him.
Io was too frazzled to have a conversation, but we came to understand her situation after a few minutes of questioning.
In the recent years, the Bulbola orphanage had stopped receiving funding from the Count and was forced to raise money on its own. The orphanage wasn’t rolling in dough, so they were thankful for everything they got. The caretakers took the Count to court, since they never received official documents stopping their funding, but their efforts were for naught. However, there were still people eager to help them. A merchant came one day to offer a helping hand and lent them money at a very low rate. It looked like a great deal, but…
“The due date was awfully harsh. There was no way I could make 300,000G in two months. I wanted to ask him to wait longer, but the man disappeared.”
“Huh. You don’t know where he is?”
“Not a clue. Our caretaker has looked everywhere for him, but we can’t seem to find him. He’s not registered under any trade associations, either.”
The loan felt fishy to me. It sounded like a scam: lending money to those in need and then insisting they repay it tenfold. When the debtor inevitably failed to pay, the fraudster would take collateral as payment.
The strange part of this story was that the debt collector seemed to be demanding a recipe for soup. I assumed the deed to the orphanage was at stake.
“And that thug’s one of the merchant’s lackeys?”
“Yes. He wanted the recipe for my soup, since I couldn’t make payment.”
Was this the merchant’s way of cheating the contest? He’d sure gone out of his way to cheat if he spent 300,000G on this scam. Then again, I supposed it would bring a high return. He must have only wanted the recipe, too. He hadn’t made any threats or demanded that Io drop out altogether.
Suffice to say there was a lot we didn’t understand. We could interrogate the thug for more information, but the orphanage might get into deeper trouble if the loan shark’s lackey came home bruised and battered. We weren’t in the business of making unnecessary enemies of underground organizations, either.
What should we do with him?
Well, we can’t leave him lying on the floor. Let’s just fool him and send him on his way.
Good thing Fran caught the thug completely by surprise. He hadn’t seen the face of his assailant, which left us options. I gave Fran the overview of the little act she could give him when he woke up.
And that’s about the gist of it. Can you handle it?
“Hm!”
Break a leg. Not literally.
“All right. Heal.”
“Bwuh?”
The goon woke up as soon as we healed him. That settled the first act. Things were going to script so far.
“Are you awake?”
“Huh? What happened…”
Good. He had no idea. We could make up any number of lies, and he would gobble it up like candy.
“You passed out in the middle of a conversation.”
“I did?”
“Hm. I’m an adventurer who just happened to be passing. I can use Healing Magic, so I healed you.”
That’s it. We would convince the man that we had nothing to do with his blackout. In fact, we healed him, so he owed us his life.
“Something hit the back of my head…”
“Must be the pavement. You fell pretty hard.”
“Really? Huh. W-well, looks like I owe you one.”
“Sudden loss of consciousness is a symptom of a terrible disease. The fact that you lost it in the middle of a conversation suggests that it’s terminal. You might not have long to live.”
“What?”
“Blood will seep out of your every pore, and you’ll die screaming and writhing in agony.”
Okay, I know I said make him worry about his health, but this is too much. I don’t think he’s going to buy it.
“R-really? Wh-what should I do?”
But he bought it anyway. Since Fran could use Healing Magic, the man considered her an expert physician.
“Go home and rest for the day.”
“Th-that’s it?”
“Hm. You’ll probably feel better once you lie down.”
“I-I see! You heard the doctor! I’ll be back soon, don’t you worry!”
Still shaken from his supposed faint, the man believed Fran’s terrible acting. He threatened the members of the orphanage, and then picked himself off the ground and wandered away.
Jet, follow him.
Hrr.
Hopefully we could learn the identity of our malevolent benefactor. Even if we couldn’t, Jet could still learn the scent of the man and his cronies, and could keep his eyes open for them during the contest. If they were fellow contestants, there was a chance that we might become targets of their harassment, too.
Five minutes later.
“Thank you so much for helping us. Are you sure this is all you want?”
“Hm.”
Io invited Fran into the orphanage and apologized profusely. There was no way she could ever repay Fran’s favor in gold. Instead, she offered her some soup, to which Fran instantly agreed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it isn’t much…”
Io reluctantly served what was, to her, nothing more than Garbage Soup. Despite the cook’s humility, Fran’s reaction said a lot about its quality.
“Hm… slurrp…”
How is it?
Fran’s eyebrows were furled in vexation.
It’s good.
Better than mine?
Hm… This vegetable broth is exquisite. It’s a miracle.
I could see why she thought so. Compared to other restaurants, the ingredients in this soup were paltry. Water, leftover vegetables, and salt. That was it. Io didn’t even use pepper. Fran asked, just to make sure. The fact that it tasted better than my soup was amazing. This woman might be the greatest chef in all of Bulbola…
“Will you be in the contest?”
“Yes, of course.”
“With this soup?”
“Yes. Everyone is so kind. They are willing to buy my soup for 10G because they know of our terrible conditions. I’m always so thankful. I manage to raise funds for an entire year thanks to this contest.”
Io didn’t think much of her soup and assumed her customers patronized her out of pity. And perhaps pity was a factor, but soup this good could definitely be sold for more than 10G.
Still, even sold so cheaply, Io’s soup was more profitable than our curry bread. I doubted if making a bowl even cost 1G.
She might be our strongest competition…
She didn’t place fourth last year out of pity, I knew that much. As Fran slurped her soup, someone barged into the orphanage.
“Is everyone okay?!”
“Big sis!”
“Welcome back!”
The girl was fifteen, m
aybe sixteen, with silver hair cut to her shoulders. She was pretty, almost ethereal-looking. The kids seemed to know her, so I assumed she must be part of the orphanage.
She was dressed oddly, though. Her white dress was almost see-through, with a single frayed hole for her head. It was held together by a belt tied around her middle. Something like a bikini underneath covered her body, although it was little better than nothing, and her arms and thighs were still exposed. It would’ve looked obscene, if not for the halo of purity around her. Instead, the outfit made her look like a shrine maiden or priestess. And her agility when she barged through the door suggested that she was no ordinary city girl.
Her strange getup made me think that she might be an adventurer. The metal rings she wore on her waist attracted my attention. They were half the size of a hula hoop but didn’t look like ordinary decorations… Maybe they were ceremonial tools for the festival.
In any case, it was time for an Identify.
Name: Charlotte
Age: 16
Race: Human
Class: Battle Dancer
Level: 30/99
HP: 106; Magic: 198; Strength: 68; Agility: 141
Skill: Dodge 6; Chorus 5; Wind Magic 3; Blink 3; Battle Dance 7; Battle Dance Arts 6; Martial Arts 3; Martial Arts Mastery 4; Dance 8; Water Magic 3; Spirit Manipulation; Mana Manipulation
Unique Skill: Fiend Crusher
Class Skill: Alluring Dance
Title: Battle Priestess, Exorcist
Equipment: Enchanted Steel Battle Rings; Snow Monkey Dance Garb; Pearl Wolf Sandals; Anti-Charm Bracelet; Charm Anklets
Identify revealed some interesting tidbits about the girl. She was apparently a Battle Dancer. I’d never seen that class before. Battle Dance seemed to be her main skill.
Battle Dance: Requirement for dancing in the heat of battle.
Battle Dance Arts: Dance charms opponents and buffs allies.
Fiend Crusher: Greatly multiplies damage to Fiend types. Applies the effect Fiend Seal.
Alluring Dance: Greatly increases the effects of Dance.
I gathered that she was like the standard Dancer class in an RPG, with the addition of direct attacks and the usual slew of support dances. The rings hanging from her waist were not decorations, but weapons.
“Charlotte? What are you doing here?”
“Emma called me. She said they were back.”
One of the kids had gone to her for help. Given her stats, she would’ve been able to handle the thug. I still wondered who she was, and it looked like the feeling was mutual.
“Uh, who’s the girl?”
“She is Fran, an adventurer. She helped us earlier when things were about to get hairy.”
Io told Charlotte how Fran had knocked the thug out cold and tricked him into leaving. Charlotte looked surprised.
“Really? You’re an adventurer?”
“Hm. The name’s Fran. D-Rank.”
“W-wow. I can’t believe you’re a higher rank than me at your age.”
She didn’t seem disbelieving or upset though and promptly accepted Fran’s status as a mid-rank adventurer. Fran was likely in her good graces already for helping the people at the orphanage. Still, it worried me how trusting and friendly both Io and Charlotte were of complete strangers…
“Thank you, Fran. My name is Charlotte.”
“It was no big deal.”
All we did was kick the bastard in the back of the head and lie to him about a terminal disease, after all. In fact, Fran was fortunate, since she got to taste the famous orphanage soup.
“Are you an adventurer, too?”
“Yeah. I’m still in E-Rank, though.”
Charlotte’s support class made it difficult for her to advance despite her high level.
“You’re the guardian of this orphanage?”
“Oh, no. I was brought up here, so I help out from time to time.”
“Charlotte makes money for the orphanage by being an adventurer. She gives it to the other orphans who are no longer here as well, since they’re having a rough time at the moment… I really wish we didn’t have to worry her so much.”
Io looked apologetic, but Charlotte simply smiled.
“What are you talking about? I only made it this far because the folks at the orphanage went through the trouble of raising me. This is the least I can do.”
“I’m sorry, Charlotte… If only there were something we could do to help ourselves.”
“There’s no need to apologize, ma’am. I’m only helping because I want to. It’s almost time for the contest, so just hang in there. You’ll sell a lot of bowls of soup.”
“Yes… You’re right. I’ll do my best.”
I was a sucker for this kind of development. I came here with the full intention of learning their weaknesses, but seeing their genuine concern for each other struck me. If I had tear ducts, I would cry.
As the two continued their conversation, one of the smaller girls approached the table. She wanted to clear Fran’s empty bowl away. As she did so, I saw that her arms were quite skinny.
The same girl produced a small plate with a single cookie on top of it. She presented it to Fran.
“What’s this?”
“My snack for the day. But I want you to have it, lady. Thank you for helping Miss Io.”
The freckled girl nibbled on her lower lip as she gave Fran her cookie. She really must’ve wanted to eat it herself…
Oh, what a good girl! Fran’s still the best, but this girl was raised well, too!
“Let’s share it, then.”
“Okay.”
The girl beamed as Fran broke the cookie in half. She was cute, and Fran couldn’t help but pat her head.
“Is it good?”
“Yeah!”
Fran was usually on the receiving end of this kind of treatment. She seemed happy to play the part of the older sister for once. Io and Charlotte watched the heartwarming scene with smiles on their faces. But my opinion of the Count was in the pits now. How could he abandon these kind people and cut their funding?! He hadn’t seemed to be that kind of person when we broke bread with him… I supposed he was still a member of the aristocracy, and they viewed the lower class as mere numbers.
It would be easy enough for us to appeal to him. As long as Fult and Satya were here, they might be able to pressure the Count into improving the quality of life for the orphans. The problem was that the improvement might only last for as long as we were present. The Count was liable to backslide as soon as we left.
We would definitely bring this up to the Count, but we also needed another way to help the orphanage.
Her, Fran suggested.
Yeah. Let’s give her a call.
Hm.
We could send messages across continents from the guild. Contacting Alessa would be a cinch.
“Amanda would do something about this.”
A-Rank adventurer, Amanda the Hariti. The famed half-elf adventurer and Protector of Children. She loved kids and single-handedly funded the orphanage in Alessa while still managing to support children all over the world. She would definitely help these people.
Before departing from the orphanage, we left them with the food we’d collected in Alessa and Dars. Grains and potatoes along with dried fish and meats. We’d held on to them for too long anyway and wouldn’t be using them in the cooking contest. It wasn’t much, but I wanted to help.
“A-are you sure we can have all of this?”
“Thank you so much. We will never forget this.”
Io and Charlotte bowed their heads. After the kids saw us off from the orphanage, Fran got started.
Teacher, let’s go to the Adventurers’ Guild.
Yeah, let’s go.
We headed for the guild immediately and asked the receptionist to send a message.
“You’ll be sending a message to Alessa. Is that correct?”
“Hm.”
“All right, we’ll send it off at once. Lucky for you, we
have some messenger birds available.”
I expected the lady to pull out a magical gadget created for long-distance communication, but it seemed they were still using carrier pigeons. Well, hawk-like monsters, to be specific, so I guess they were carrier hawks.
The hawks could cover a month’s journey in a little over a day, which was a testament to their great speed. Upon further inquiry, we found out that the monster was called the Wind Eagle, a creature specialized in high-speed flight.
They weren’t that common, though. Even the guild at Bulbola only had two. One of them happened to be free, which was really lucky for us. It was expensive, but we could afford to spend 10,000G. The price was still steep, and I agonized over it a little, thinking maybe it would be better to donate the money to the orphanage itself.
From what I remembered, Amanda couldn’t stray too far from Alessa. She was a human deterrent to the kingdom of Raydoss in the north. Even so, we still needed her help. I was sure she had pull with the right people and hoped she would be able to instill a more permanent solution to the orphanage’s problems.
So we paid the postage and wrote about our current situation and the awful living conditions of the local orphans. We ended the letter with, “These kids are having a rough time, and we hope you can help them out.” We were asking a lot, but Amanda could offer them far greater help than we ever could. We had more on the line than our petty pride: the orphans would still need to eat long after we left Bulbola. We needed all the help we could get.
“Thank you. I will have our hawk deliver it immediately.”
“Please do.”
That took care of the letter.
“Woof.”
Jet, you’re back.
Jet returned as soon as we left the Adventurers’ Guild. The thug had headed in the opposite direction from the Lucille Trade Association. I had really wanted to prepare for the cooking contest today…but it was too late to turn this boat around.
Fran followed Jet into the city.
I expected him to take us to the slums, so I was quite surprised to find the thug lived in an ordinary residential area.
Here?
“Woof.”
Jet took us to a large mansion. The estate was fenced off with a five-meter-high wall to deter onlookers. Its size made me wonder if it belonged to a noble, although the location made me doubt it. What was this building for?