Chapter 260 - What If (8)

“Are there tools that change your eye color, too?”

In a corner of Hudelen, Akata, a girl who had become quite fluent in the local language, questioned her senior coworker as she mulled over the letter that had arrived yesterday. Bracelets woven from fine thread dangled from her arms.

“They do exist.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you ask, though?” he added. Akata shrugged, all three pairs of arms rising together.

“A little while ago, I heard a customer saying they were sick of being called unlucky because of their eye color and wanted to do something about it.”

“Their eye color?”

“They had blue eyes with brown patches, almost like stains.”

“Oh, right. You do see people like that sometimes. They're incredibly rare. Surprised you happened to meet a customer with them.”

Actually, she had seen those eyes back when she still lived with her tribe, and they weren't particularly rare there. Akata left those details out and smiled.

“So could someone like that change their eye color, too?”

“Well, it's not impossible.”

“The way you put that makes it sound expensive.”

“It is.”

“More expensive than changing your hair color?”

“Yes. You can only change eye color with magic.”

“Why?”

“Well... you can't exactly pour dye into your eyes, can you?”

“Oh...”

Akata understood at once. True, even using the dyes of this era on your hair meant risking hair loss or a scalp rash. Pouring such harsh dye into your eyes could only end in blindness.

“Hmm. Judging by their clothes, that customer didn't look all that wealthy...”

“Then it'd probably be difficult.”

“It's that expensive?”

“Hmm. Well. Those products work by casting an illusion on a small area—the eyes—so they wouldn't be terribly expensive as magical tools go... but they'd still cost over a million gal. Given the times.”

“Wow...”

A million gal. All eight of Akata's eyes widened at a sum far beyond her present means. She had expected a magical product to be fairly pricey, but not to have a whole different number of digits in its price.

“Why? Did you want to buy one, too?”

“Why would I buy something to change my eye color? If I were going to buy anything... I'd get an item that made it look like I didn't have eyes on my forehead.”

“Uh...”

Racial discrimination was steadily declining in the face of a common enemy, the demons, but that only applied to familiar appearances.

The girl's appearance was rarer even than that of the scaly Shaggi, and since coming to Hudelen, she had experienced every kind of discrimination there was. She had also long since learned that simply covering the six eyes on her forehead made much of it go away.

“Now that I've said it, I want one even more. If they can cast an illusion on eyes, they could cast one on my forehead, right? Then I wouldn't have to cover it with cloth, and I'd have my full field of vision back.”

But for that very reason, the more she spoke, the more she realized just how valuable such an item would be.

If an illusion could change eye color, it could hide scars, too. Perhaps it could even change the appearance of an entire face.

“... But something that can do that would be more expensive, right? Since the illusion would have to cover a larger area.”

“Probably... yes.”

How much money would she have to pour into buying one? Before that, what would she have to sell, and what would she have to do, to earn that much?

She held two of her hands out before her. There, in plain sight, were the things that had set Hudelen's latest trend, only to be robbed of their chance by discrimination.

“Still! I don't think you need to buy anything like that!”

While she stood there quietly, her coworker, who had been fumbling for words, suddenly burst out. His face was covered in sweat, as though he had spent those few moments desperately devising something to comfort her.

“If you hide your eyes... people might accept you now, but it could mean people with eight eyes get rejected later. Eight eyes are something people need to accept, not something you need to hide.”

“... Mr. Chelsea.”

“Of course, if what you're going through is so hard that you feel you have to hide them, I won't stop you...”

“I didn't want one quite that desperately, but I'm touched.”

She had been speaking without giving it much thought and hadn't expected such an earnest response. When Akata told him that, Chelsea's face turned bright red.

“You scared me, kid...”

“Sometimes I think you're too sensitive, Mr. Chelsea.”

“What are you talking about... It's not that I'm sensitive. You're strong.”

“... Am I?”

“Yes. Even adults usually have a hard time dealing with this sort of discrimination.”

That was something she had never heard before. She had already been through too much to let this much defeat her, and she had a bundle of treasures that gave her strength when things grew hard. She had always brushed it off as manageable. But perhaps that wasn't a given. Perhaps she was exceptional.

“Then I'm glad.”

Akata fiddled with a bracelet made from the thread in her treasure bundle. It felt as though she had been told she was doing well, and that made her happy. She could face that person now.

“Hmm. I'm still going to hide my identity when I sell the bracelets, though. Discrimination or not, I can't miss out on this trend.”

“Do whatever you want about that...”

That aside, she couldn't let a chance to make money slip by. She raised the bracelet she had just finished. It swayed in her hand, its pattern similar to those currently in fashion, yet more elaborate and sophisticated.

“Hehehe. The original has arrived.”

“Honestly. Laughing like that doesn't make you look evil, kid...”

“But come on. Isn't it pretty funny to see the same jerks who said they'd never buy from some freak with all those eyes going wild over them the moment I hide who I am?”

“Well, yes...”

“And after a few weeks of hard work, I can hold my head high in front of the Great Chief, too.”

“Oh, right. You said you got a letter from the Great Forest.”

Knowing that Akata's relationship with her homeland wasn't particularly good, her coworker gently scratched the bridge of his nose.

“Can I ask what it said?”

“Of course. Nothing much. How are you doing, things are the same here, there's something I'd like to ask you to do, would you mind? That was about it.”

“... And you did it?”

“It was the Great Chief asking, after all. I'm not close to the people back home, but the Great Chief was kind to me. Besides, the request was... well, rather pitiful.”

“What was it?”

“They wanted a wig to cover up hair loss...”

“Oh...”

“I don't know if it's a racial trait, but baldness is incredibly rare among us. For someone to go bald under those circumstances... isn't that sad?”

“Right... it is... That's a request worth helping with...”

Akata grinned as her coworker unconsciously touched his broad forehead.

That was merely the public version; the truly important part came afterward. But what would be the point of telling him that? She grinned, using the truth to conceal a lie.

* * *

Did the dye only work when I used Disguise?

I examined my face from various angles in the gauntlet I had polished to a shine. It wasn't as reflective as a mirror, but I could at least tell whether my eyebrows were dark or light in the hazy, blurred reflection.

“... My eyebrows are gone.”

Strictly speaking, I wasn't even distinguishing dark from light. It was closer to assuming that visible eyebrows meant their original color, while invisible ones meant they were dyed.

In fact, whenever my eyebrows looked absent in the gauntlet, I could see brown eyebrows in my reflection in water, so the test was fairly reliable. If asked why they didn't show in the gauntlet, though, all I could offer was that their color was so pale it probably blended with my skin in the blurred image.

“Hah.”

Still, wouldn't eyebrows this pale change my overall appearance quite a bit? The eyepatch and the scar by my mouth were still problems, but eyebrows played a surprisingly large part in the impression a face made.

Well, setting all that aside, the most disappointing thing was that the dye stopped working the moment I deactivated Disguise.

“Is magic resistance the problem...?”

After puzzling over why this was happening, I found something that could pass for an answer. The only real difference between the skill's inactive and active states was the pile of debuffs it inflicted, and only one of those could explain it.

The difference in how long the dye lasted early and midway through using Disguise was further evidence. The longer Disguise stayed active, the more sharply my magic resistance dropped, and the dye lasted longer in proportion. This had to be the culprit.

“I never even noticed you helping in combat...”

It never helped at any other time, so why did it have to get in my way now? Grumbling, I checked the time.

I had no choice. If my eyebrows reverted to their original color while I was walking around a city or talking to someone, I'd have a serious problem. I absolutely had to know how long the dye lasted, just in case.

Something stirred.

The bushes beyond the growing patch the Mountain Lord had made for me shook. I straightened from my crouch over the mushrooms and drew my sword.

The hair of the wig I had kept wearing to get used to it slipped softly down. I'd tied it loosely because of its awkward length, and the hair tie must have come out again.

CRASH!

Meanwhile, the shaking bushes finally parted, and a leopard sprang out. It was small for a creature of this forest. Was it a cub?

My hand twitched around the sword's standard grip, then flipped it over. Now my gauntlet held the longsword's blade rather than its hilt.

THWACK!

I dodged the leopard's charge and swatted its hide with the broad, flat side of the hilt. But the leopard's body curved as it moved, and the two ends of the guard raked its skin.

RIP!

Clear scratches appeared beneath its fur, staining the area red.

“Oh...”

I made a peculiar face as I looked at the bloody guard. I'd seen an animation in the game where you killed an enemy by driving the end of the guard into the back of their neck like a pickaxe. I'd forgotten about it because I'd never had any use for it... but this really drove home what a hack swordsman I was. Without the combat system's assistance, I probably would have died ages ago.

HISSS!

... But wasn't I currently facing the possibility that the system was either the real Demon Knight or the demon? Did that mean they were providing this assistance, too?

Left with a profoundly strange feeling about something I hadn't wanted to know, I lightly kicked the lunging beast in the belly. Animal cruelty or not, this was the compromise I'd settled on because I couldn't just cut it down. If there had been people nearby, I would have killed it for their safety, but what need was there now?

So I really wished it would hurry up and admit I was prey it couldn't beat, and leave...

GRRRR...

Had my fervent wish gotten through? The leopard finally came to its senses. It still circled me as though it coveted my flesh, but at least it had stopped trying to attack.

However, if I left things here, it might watch for an opening and ambush me again. I drew up my magical energy to give it a more decisive warning.

Blood immediately trickled from my nostrils, and my fingertips curled.

SLASH!

Four claw marks scored the ground from where I stood to the leopard's feet. Startled, it scrambled away. That was a relief, but my nose was in rather serious trouble.

“Sniff. Ah, fuck.”

Seriously. This magical energy backlash was fucking ridiculous. How did using that once give me an instant nosebleed?

Grumbling from the bottom of my heart, I plopped down. The tree covered in clusters of mushrooms now had to support my backside, too.

For the record, I'd already harvested the mushrooms where I sat, so no poor things got crushed beneath me.

[“Aaaah! Aaaah!”]

But after my nose, my eardrums were the next to suffer.

“... You're here again.”

[“Now why's your nose bleeding again? I brought you something to eat. Would you like some?”]

What a noisy snake. The corners of my mouth lifted slightly.

[“Huh? Wait, what? Where'd my lunch box go?”]

When the Mountain Lord made an even bigger fool of himself, my upturned lips finally parted. A snort of laughter escaped, and his head whipped around.

[“Y-you laughed?”]

My lips closed again, and my crinkled eyes flattened as though nothing had happened.

[“But you just laughed!”]

“I did not.”

[“But...”]

“I said I didn't.”

It was an ordinary day.

Is It a Problem If the Protagonist Is a Role-Playing Fanatic? (Serial)

Author │ Hae Inseol

Publisher │ Kim Juhyeong

Published by │ Jple Media Co., Ltd.

Marketing │ Han Jaehyeok

Address │ Suite 204, 288 Digital-ro, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong, Daerung Post Tower 1)

Email │ [email protected]

Website │ http://blog.naver.com/jayplemedia1

ⓒ Hae Inseol 2022

※ This work is published by Jple Media Co., Ltd. under contract with the copyright holder. No part of its content may be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and the author. Violations may result in criminal and civil liability.