Chapter 70
“Business not doing well?”
“Come on, no way. It’s harvest season. How could a smithy be short on money?”
Harvest season was a busy time for smithies, with farm tools needing repairs and all. Even the farms in Hortulusil used the sickles Clara made, so she shouldn’t have been short on work.
‘……Could it be that she made them so well they never needed repairs?’
Where had I heard this? There was a story about a company that made farm equipment and built machines that wouldn’t break even after forty years of use, only to go bankrupt because it couldn’t make money from repairs or new product sales.
Even when they released new products, their customers were already happy with the ones they’d bought before, so they wouldn’t buy more. And since nothing broke, they couldn’t make money on repairs, either. That was how they went under.
Maybe Clara was in a similar situation. The sickle she made could even slice through the neck of a King Walking Water Deer that wielded mana.
“Here!! I brought some items dwarves often use!!”
Crash, clatter─!! Rumble, rumble!!
Clara quickly laid out the weapons she’d brought in a box. Damn, that was a lot of stuff.
“For dwarves, I recommend weapons that make the most of your dexterity or strength! How about this heavy-duty hammer?!”
As she said that, she recommended a heavy hammer that looked like it could crush a lion’s head with one blow.
No, what the fuck? Was that an anvil attached to the end of a stick? Even Beast Mode Tabula would die if that thing hit him.
I picked it up and tried lifting it. It really was ridiculously heavy. Could Fran even carry this?
“Here, Fran.”
“Thanks.”
─Flash!
Damn, she actually could.
‘Right. I always lose to her in raw strength.’
Fran lifted and lowered the hammer one-handed. It felt like it weighed twenty kilos to me. Its balance was good, so it was easy enough to lift, but it didn’t look easy to carry around.
It wasn’t Mjolnir or anything. If she carried that thing around and accidentally bumped into a passerby, they’d be looking at multiple fractures and an outpatient visit at minimum. If it hit some guy in the balls, that bastard would have his first ovulation.
“Do you have anything else? Something this heavy would be hard to handle.”
Maybe she’d been thinking the same thing, because Fran set the hammer down and said that. Clara rested her chin on her ringed hand, then her eyes lit up.
“If you don’t like heavy weapons, how about the lightest kind? I recommend this series of throwing knives!!”
Rattle─.
Small knives spilled onto the table, like coins pouring out at a casino. They were tied together in groups of five, and each one was about as thick as one blade of a pair of scissors.
“These are throwing knives favored by adventurer rogues. Human and elven rogues sometimes use bows, but dwarves usually choose knives.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Um…… Throwing weapons are a good way to make use of a dwarf’s dexterity and strength.”
Wouldn’t the same apply to bows?
Just like rifle marksmanship, dexterity and bow skill weren’t related, but strength mattered for bows, too. If you made a bow out of monster materials, its string could be so taut that an ordinary person could barely draw it. But an arrow fired from one could pierce a boulder.
“……Ah.”
Seeing Fran pick up a knife, I realized the real reason Clara hadn’t mentioned it.
‘It’s because of their height.’
Dwarves were short, so they couldn’t use longbows. Their arms and legs were short, too.
They could probably use a shortbow, but a short bow wouldn’t let them make much use of their strength.
‘And crossbows aren’t common in this world.’
Crossbows would be easy for small-framed dwarves to use, but they’d fallen out of favor in this world, eclipsed by bows. An arrow shot by a person was stronger, after all. Rate of fire? Wanna race me with Beast Regression turned on?
To the people of this world, crossbows had so few advantages that it was amazing anyone had even invented them.
“Now, now!! I’ll put up a target here so you can try throwing them!!”
─Clatter.
Clara attached something like a dartboard to the wall. Fran gave it a gentle toss with a throwing knife.
─Thump!
It hit dead center.
In the wall.
“……Ghk.”
“I-I’m sorry!!”
Seeing her shop get damaged, Clara made a strangled noise as if she’d been the one hit by the knife. Fran panicked and bowed repeatedly, but the professional weapons dealer forced a strained smile and endured it.
“N-no, it’s fine~! I’m the one who told you to throw it~!!”
“I-I’ll throw it properly this time!!”
Fran picked up a knife and declared that with determination. Clara’s face turned into that of a frog someone had stepped on. Her silent plea to me was clear.
─Boyfriend!!! Please stop her!!!
─Yeah.
I answered her unspoken plea by gently taking Fran by the wrist. Then I carefully opened her hand and took the knife from her.
The knife was heavier than I’d expected. It felt a little heavier than kitchen shears.
“Nord? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’ll show you how to do it. When you’re throwing a dart or a ball, you do it like this.”
I, Kang Buk-ho, had been a pro at throwing things since way back.
In high school, some lunatic brought darts into the classroom, and we used them to bet on snacks from the school store. When I was in the military, a crazy platoon leader dragged me out to play catch with a bunch of guys.
Back then, it was the absolute peak of misery, but I could still easily recall the ‘how to throw a ball properly’ lesson I’d learned from that platoon leader.
“When you put power into the throw, twist your waist instead of just using your arm, and put the strength of your lower body into it. When you’re aiming for a specific spot, the timing of your release and the snap of your wrist are important.”
I explained the principle as I took up a stance.
But fuck, it’d be mortifying if I struck this pose and missed. I quietly drew on my mana and sharpened my focus. My senses grew much keener, and I could feel everything right down to my fingertips.
Ready── aim, fire!
Whizz─ Thunk!!
“Wow!!”
“That was wonderful!!”
─Clap, clap, clap!!
Fran and Clara applauded in surprise. The knife I’d thrown had stuck right in the center of the target.
Damn, it was half a lucky shot, but whatever. I’d hit it, so that was good enough. I brushed a hand over my nose, trying to keep it from turning up smugly, and said,
“All right, think you’ve got the general idea?”
“Yeah! I’ll try!”
Fran picked up a knife enthusiastically. Clara watched with bated breath, and about ten seconds later, the silver knife left Fran’s hand.
Whizz─ Thunk!
The knife stuck near the edge of the target. It had hit, anyway, so I raised my hands to applaud, but Fran didn’t stop there. She kept trying.
Whizz─ Thunk!
Whizz─ Thunk!
Whizz── Thunk!!
“Holy crap.”
Like someone zeroing a rifle, Fran’s throwing knives landed closer and closer to the center of the target. I was amazed.
To be blunt, Fran’s form was a complete mess. Her throwing posture changed every time, and I could tell even with my amateur eyes that she barely used her waist at all.
Whizz── Thunk!!
Fran made up for all those flaws with her dexterity alone.
Even when her throwing posture was a mess, she released the knife at just the right time, so her aim didn’t go off. Every time she threw, she instinctively adjusted her release timing and wrist snap, managing to throw successfully ‘from any posture.’
‘Wouldn’t that be way harder than throwing with proper form?’
If she mastered that technique, she could probably lie facedown on a bed, barely move her hand, and still hit every target.
So this is that whole difference-in-talent thing, huh? Humans really are useless as shit.
─Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!!
Maybe she’d fully gotten the hang of it, because every knife Fran threw in a row landed near the center of the target. There was barely three centimeters between them.
“Nord! I’ve got the hang of it now!”
“The student has surpassed the master. You may ‘descend the mountain’ now.”
─Clap, clap, clap, clap!
I applauded, moved. It felt like Fran had found a hidden talent in an unexpected place.
“The student has what?”
“It’s an expression. It basically means you’ve surpassed your teacher.”
Idioms and proverbs didn’t translate very well. Papago wasn’t completely omnipotent, either. I retrieved the knives from the target.
“Pick out another weapon, too. You’ll need something to use against enemies who get close.”
“Wait a second. Let me think about it.”
After consulting with Clara, Fran bought a hammer of a suitable length. It was a pick hammer, similar to the one she’d used before. She’d chosen a familiar weapon.
We bought one hammer and thirty knives. Fran stored them carefully in the inner pocket of her poncho, along with a case made just for them.
“The throwing knives are one copper for five, and the hammer is seven copper. With three knife cases, that comes to sixteen copper altogether.”
“What? Seven copper?”
I was startled as I went to pay. A copper coin slipped out of my wallet and landed on the table.
“I-I can’t lower the price any more!!”
Clara flinched at my words, then shouted. Maybe she was short on money and thought I was haggling, but I was surprised because the price was so cheap.
“My pants cost sixty-five copper, right? But a hammer you use as a weapon costs only seven copper?”
“Those are made from monster hide……”
Damn, right.
When I compared them, my pants seemed to use more expensive materials and a lot more of them. The throwing knives were shaped a little like scalpels, so they seemed easy to make, and the hammer was just a sturdier version of an everyday tool.
‘So that’s why Fran used a hammer.’
Seventy thousand won. Damn cheap.
Or were my pants ridiculously expensive? Fran’s hammer and all her knives together probably weighed less than ten kilos. Iron was cheap in this world, too.
“Well, I’m satisfied with that price. Here you go.”
I picked up the copper coin and paid her eighteen more. Clara accepted the money politely with both hands and smiled happily.
“Thank you! Come again!”
“I will.”
I’d probably be coming back often, if only for the throwing knives.
After buying weapons, we went to look at watches. The watch shop was on the upscale street for the wealthy, where we’d been last night, too.
“The products for adventurers are over this way.”
An old man with a monocle who looked exactly like a watchmaker recommended a rugged watch that adventurers often bought.
“To start the watch, insert the included key and wind it. The watch will run for a day with one turn, but please note that turning it more than ten times will only make it spin freely.”
I’d never known this before, but pocket watches in this world ran on springs, too. I’d heard the spring technology itself had advanced because of golems.
“If it gets wet or stops working, you can pay for repairs at the clockmakers’ guild in any city. These watches are made for adventurers, so they rarely break, though.”
“How much are they?”
“Forty copper each.”
Holy crap. That was fucking expensive.
I clicked my tongue as I paid. Thank goodness I’d made a big haul from defeating the bandits. Still, once I became a Bronze-class adventurer, my income would go up, so I should be able to manage.
“Fran. Here, this one’s yours.”
After leaving the shop, I gave Fran a watch.
I’d thought about setting a romantic mood, but it was a watch chosen for durability and value for money, so it felt embarrassing to make a big deal out of it. It was like one of those Casio watches someone gave you before you went into the army.
“You only needed to buy one for yourself, Nord……”
Maybe because I’d said that at the inn earlier, Fran said that, but she quietly accepted the watch I’d bought.
“Still, it’s better for us to each have our own watch when we’re working.”
It had been the same when Tirsi and I wiped out the bandits.
If I’d had a watch there, we could’ve decided on a time to move in. Not being able to do that had made me uneasy.
If the bandit leader had been as strong as Tabula, Tirsi might have run into him alone and gotten into serious trouble. I’d rather spend a little money than let Fran face that kind of danger.
“That should be everything we need. Let’s go back to the inn, grab our bags and food, and set out.”
I clipped the watch chain to my clothes and tucked it into my breast pocket.
At last, our goblin extermination quest was beginning.
***
Bronze-class adventurers were in an awkward position.
In a company, they’d be below assistant manager; in the military, they’d be like a private first class with three months’ seniority. They still didn’t know anything, but everyone around them would assume they knew enough to manage and leave them alone.
Since nobody properly taught them, it was also the rank where people started dying after awkwardly overestimating their abilities.
‘But that’s only the newbies who just graduated from the tutorial, right?’
Considering the level of the enemies I’d fought so far, it would be ridiculous to get scared over a few goblins now. Let’s make sure we distinguish between being cautious and cowering in fear.
So Fran and I packed our supplies carefully and headed for Perfort Village.
“Once we get to the village, you’re going to ask the animals, right?”
Fran asked as we walked along the road leading to Perfort Village.
“Yeah. We’ll probably get there before nightfall. We’ll ask the animals living nearby, then decide whether to exterminate the goblins right away or find an inn, sleep for the night, and take them on tomorrow.”
While telling Fran what had happened at the bandit hideout last night, I also explained my magic.
More precisely, I told her it was similar to that magic, but more convenient and faster-acting, and asked her to keep it secret.
‘I could’ve told Fran about my Translation Ability, but……’
It still felt too soon to tell her everything.
If I told her about my Translation Ability, the conversation would naturally lead to her asking how I got it.
Telling her about Earth would be too much to take in. But making up some halfhearted excuse would just mean telling a lie to cover another lie.
‘Still, I should talk to her about it soon.’
Fran might be deeply hurt if she learned I was looking for a way to return to Earth. I should tell her before the end of this year, so it wouldn’t come as a surprise later.
─Step, step.
Like the low-ranking adventurers we were, we walked along on our own two feet.
Neither Fran nor I got tired, even after walking all day. We’d be able to reach the village faster than ordinary travelers.
─Neigh……
As we walked, a strange cry came from the ranch beside the road.
It sounded like a horse with no energy left. Like the kind of cry you’d make while lying in bed, on the verge of death, when you needed to take a shit. It was such a tragic cry that the word ‘wailing’ suited it perfectly.
“What was that sound just now?”
“I think that was a Hamal crying.”
“A Hamal?”
“Yeah. Over there.”
I looked where Fran was pointing and saw a creature in the ranch’s stable that looked fucking awful. It looked like someone had crossed a hippo with a horse and tripled the hair on its legs.
Fran watched the creature and said,
“So they raise Hamals at this ranch, too. I didn’t know.”
“A Hamal. I’ve heard that somewhere. Is it the Hamal from the saying, ‘He acts like a Hamal carrying someone on its back’?”
“I think so. I don’t know Britannian proverbs very well, though.”
A Hamal.
It was one of the most famously lazy creatures in this world. I hadn’t known what one looked like, but I’d heard it mentioned in sayings and idioms now and then.
“Apparently, those little guys don’t want to work as soon as someone rides on their back or makes them carry a load. That’s why they’re called ‘selfish horses that won’t do anyone else a favor.’”
“That’s not selfish. It’s only natural.”
People in this world sorted livestock into useful and useless, just like humans always did. It was a sad fact.
‘Laziness, huh?’
They only acted lazy when they had something on their backs. Maybe they had their reasons.
I’d heard they were fast when they weren’t carrying anything, so it might be worth taking a quick look. Ranches sometimes rented out their livestock, too.
My interest piqued, I said to Fran,
“Fran. Want to go take a look?”
“Huh? Ah, if you want to go, then let’s check it out together. I’d like to see one again, too. I used to see them all the time back home.”
And so we went into the farm that raised Hamals.