Chapter 74 - Ghost Busters (3)

I'm sitting by a fountain, eating a packed lunch. On the menu: potato stew, bread, and a vegetable salad with beef. Misha is sitting beside me.

"Bjorn, have some of this, nyah."

"You're giving me meat...?"

"I snacked on plenty while I was making it earlier, nyah."

Well, in that case. I thoroughly chew and swallow the meat Misha hands me. How long has it been since I last had beef? It melts in my mouth. The only downside is that the stares coming from beside us make it hard to fully savor the flavor.

"She definitely just called him Bjorn, didn't she?"

"Then he must be Little Valcan."

"Hmm, I don't see anything special about him..."

At some point, people started recognizing me here and there wherever I went. Invitations to join clans, offers to join teams... That sort of thing I can accept, but...

"Say, are you really Little Valcan?"

There are also bastards who come over to pick a fight for no reason or pester me to tell them what happened. Can't they see a man is eating? Granted, that was my last spoonful.

"Misha, get up."

"Hm?"

"We're done eating. Time to get going."

We quickly pack up and leave the fountain. I hear some grumbling behind us, but they don't cross the line by following us. Misha glances back and murmurs,

"It's kind of strange, nyah. I thought only really amazing people got recognized like this... nyah."

What's that? Is she picking a fight? Still, I understand what she means. It must feel strange when someone close to you suddenly becomes famous.

'Little Valcan...'

In the game, there was no downside to increasing Fame. It unlocked types of quests you couldn't accept before, or brought lucrative commissions out of the blue. Above all, you couldn't enter District One, the imperial capital of Carnon, with low Fame, making it essential to progressing through the game.

But...

'I don't know if this is a good thing.'

Where I am now isn't merely a game. This is a world where Players are treated as evil spirits and sent to the guillotine whenever they're discovered. My name suddenly becoming known is bound to bring unwelcome attention along with it.

But...

'I had no choice if I wanted to survive.'

To gain something, you have to give something up. I obtained an Orc Hero's Essence, saved my own life, and reaped several other benefits besides. So I'll have to put up with this much.

"Well, that seems to be everything for today."

By the time we've picked up my repaired equipment, bought the various supplies we need, and stopped by the auction house while we're here to see if there's anything worth buying, the sun is beginning to set.

'I'll head back to the inn and finish working out our development plans.'

"I'm heading back now. What about you?"

I'm essentially suggesting we head back together. But Misha suddenly trails off.

"Oh, well... nyah."

What is it? She's making me nervous for no reason. I look at her, urging her to spit it out, and she cautiously speaks, watching my reaction.

"... I'm going to visit my family for a bit, nyah."

"Your family?"

"Yes, nyah. I might stay there until tomorrow or the day after, nyah."

"I see."

Why is she so worried about my reaction to something like that? If she has plans, she has plans. Family matters aren't my business, either. There are a few things that worry me, but she'll handle it herself.

"Hang in there."

Still, I decide to at least offer some encouragement. After all, I know what her family means to her. Misha gives a small smile.

"Well, I guess that does make me feel a little better... nyah."

Really? Her voice sounds awfully lifeless for that. Looks like she needs a push. Barbarian-style, of course.

THWACK!

"Ow! You brainless barbarian bastard, nyah!"

Whatever the startled Misha is shouting...

"Much better."

"Damn it, nyah. Anyway, I'll definitely be back within two days, so make sure you eat properly until then, got it, nyah?"

I chuckle and reply, "Got it."

This is something that's changed since we returned to the city. Is this what she meant when she said she'd treat me as her benefactor? For some reason, she's been acting like my mother lately.

* * *

Misha and I part ways at the carriage stop. She takes a carriage to her family's estate, while I board one bound for District Eight, where my inn is. My body sways with every creak. With nothing in particular to do, I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander, as though surrendering myself to the waves.

'I should probably stay with this team a while longer.'

Absorbing the Orc Hero's Essence gave my stats an enormous boost in one go. Promotion to Grade 6 explorer is practically guaranteed if I just fill out and submit the application. With my reputation as Little Valcan, I might even jump straight to Grade 5. In other words, I could find a better team if I wanted.

'But it'd be hard to bring Misha along.'

Misha's combat strength is exactly that of a Grade 7 explorer, no more and no less. Of course, she has more than enough potential to reach the higher grades. Not only did she acquire a Spirit beast this time, but her transformation-type ability, [Enhancement], is the very reason I decided to develop her as a companion.

With that in mind...

'The first order of business is leveling Misha up, then.'

I reach my final decision. Focusing on Misha's growth will be the most efficient approach for a while.

'First, raise her Spirit beast contract level. If possible, our next expedition should head that way too. That Essence might drop there. Oh, and ideally, we should replace her main weapon...'

While I'm working out the details of Misha's development, we arrive at my destination before I know it.

'Whew. Whatever else I do, next time I move, I should find somewhere near a carriage stop.'

It's the equivalent of living near a train station. Though the housing prices will be higher to match.

I step down from the carriage and make my way toward the inn along the now-familiar route. Straight ahead, then left at the candy shop. Take the right fork when I reach the Immortal King's statue. Another five minutes or so brings me to the central square...

"We will now begin the execution!"

Fuck. And here it'd been quiet for a few days. A crowd has gathered in the usually empty square. Everyone is craning their necks to look at the guillotine.

SHICK!

The sight doesn't even look that horrific anymore. Still, I have no desire to stop and watch. I let the chilling sound pass through one ear and quicken my pace. Even so, my subconscious picks up on something odd in what I've seen.

'... Why are there so few people today?'

I don't mean the crowd gathered beneath the guillotine. I mean the prisoners scheduled for execution today. They usually execute dozens at a time, but today there are only four.

'And I don't see the bastards who usually wait up front to dip their fingers in the blood and taste it.'

The moment my mind registers the question, the murmurs that had been no more than indistinct background noise become clear.

"I had high hopes when I heard they were evil spirits, but there's nothing special about them, is there?"

"Oh my, you're right. Even their blood is red."

"Isn't it disgusting? Evil spirits walking around pretending to be people."

What, evil spirits? My feet stop of their own accord. I turn toward the guillotine and see the condemned trembling as they await their turn. Three remain.

"I-I'm not! I'm telling you, I'm not!"

"What are you doing? Put the gag back in."

A young-looking elf woman. A male dwarf who looks about the same age as our dwarf. And—

"Mmph, mmmph!!"

A barbarian with a familiar face.

SHICK!

The elf's head tumbles neatly into the waiting barrel, and the dwarf, next in line, is forced to his knees on the execution platform. But my gaze is fixed on one spot alone.

'Tarikan, son of Lien.'

Right. That was his name. The name of that barbarian trembling there, his eyes filled with terror.

'Fuck, the way he acted did worry me...'

His awkward attempts at barbarian speech. His cowardly nature. His weak mindset, always wanting someone to lean on. There are so many possibilities that I can't even begin to guess what mistake exposed him.

Yet somehow, I get a feeling.

'I don't think he bought a weapon with the money I gave him.'

I have no evidence. Of course they would have confiscated his weapon before bringing him to the execution platform. But for some reason, I can't shake the thought that he didn't enter the Labyrinth this time either.

'Why, exactly?'

Just as I start seriously considering where this baseless intuition comes from...

"Mmph, mmph!!"

He suddenly starts thrashing after doing nothing but trembling quietly. His gagged mouth keeps moving as though he's trying to say something, and his wide eyes turn in my direction. It doesn't seem to be a coincidence.

"Mmmph! Mmmmmmph!!"

Has he recognized me from all the way over there? Well, I'm the only barbarian in the crowd. I suppose I'd stand out even from a distance.

"What are you doing! Get him on his knees!"

Eventually, they subdue him and force his neck beneath the guillotine's blade. Even then, he keeps trying to say something, staring straight at me among the crowd.

"Mmph, mmmmmph!!"

I can't tell what those muffled cries mean. Is he asking for help? Hmm. His eyes look far too venomous for that.

"Mm, mmmph!!"

Seeing him unable to leave even a final word weighs on my heart, but at the same time, a little relief wells up.

'Good thing I firmly distanced myself back then.'

If I hadn't ended things by giving him 150,000 Stones... If I'd decided differently, revealed that we were in the same situation, and leaned on him as he leaned on me—

"Son of Jandel—!!"

I might have been up there beside him.

SHICK!

At the last moment, his gag snaps and he shouts something, but the cold blade falls, crushing his voice. I immediately turn away and resume my journey. Even as I do, I engrave one lesson on my heart.

'Next time, I shouldn't even do that much.'

I have to be more careful. In this fucked-up world, plunderers and explorers aren't the only threats to my life. Who am I to pity anyone? I need to curb my pointless meddling and keep my wits about me from now o—

"Bjorn, son of Jandel, right?"

Someone calls my name from behind. I turn to find a neatly dressed man looking at me.

"Don't bother me. Get lost."

Strangers have been approaching me a lot lately, so I brush him off and keep walking. But...

"Don't be so wary. I'm in a similar situation."

There's something very strange about his tone. Without thinking, I stop and turn to look at him.

"America? Taiwan? Europe? Where are you from?"

Fuck. What the hell is this now?

* * *

After becoming famous, I'd considered the possibility. That something like this might happen. But...

'I didn't expect it this soon.'

My mind turns ice-cold. Of course, I've already decided what to do. Whether this bastard is a real Player or only pretending to be one...

'It changes nothing. Let's do what I prepared.'

Haven't I known other evil spirits existed since the first day I woke up in this body? I'd already asked myself this question before.

'Is interacting with them worth taking the risk?'

The conclusion I reached was simple. Absolutely not. What would I even do with other Players? Share information? That might be possible to some extent... But ultimately, all I'd gain would be the comfort of knowing I wasn't alone in this unfamiliar world. Taking that much risk just to feel better would be idiotic.

And so...

'Whoever he is, there's no need to show my hand.'

There's a term: poker face. People sometimes use it to play mind games, but fundamentally, it means an expressionless face. That's how readily the face reveals a person's thoughts.

But I decide that an expressionless face isn't what I need right now. The moment he finishes his question, I answer.

"What are you talking about?"

Of course, that alone isn't perfect. So even as I answer in a barbarian's manner, I think to myself,

'How would Aynar react if he said that to her?'

Having spent a fair amount of time with her, I arrive at the answer easily.

"Stop using difficult words and speak plainly."

Yes, that's it. Barbarians don't know a lot of things. And they aren't ashamed of their ignorance. What's more, if the stranger is human... They show a little wariness and aggression, too. Therefore—

I take a step forward with a somewhat threatening look in my eyes. I also snort, as if one wrong word will make me smash his skull.

But despite my behavior, the man merely lets out a peculiar exclamation.

"Wow, you almost fooled me. You're really good at acting. Aren't you only three months in?"

"Acting? Didn't I tell you not to use difficult words?"

"Oh, I told you, there's no need to be wary. I'm from America. I never should've touched that damned game."

His voice drips with regret and sorrow. And he offers information that only a Player could possibly know. With that, I become fairly certain.

"Anyway, you're amazing. Earning an epithet in just three months. It took me over three years. I just had to get stuck as a human..."

This bastard isn't a Player.