Shadin was sick for three full days.
He held on by scraping up whatever water, hard bread, and jam remained in the house.
“I’m going to die.”
By the time he had drunk the last drop of water, he was able to sit up.
He opened his wallet to count his remaining money. The nail on his darkened ring finger fell off.
“...Well, this is enough.”
A joint of the left ring finger and a nail. Because of his outstanding spiritual power, he spent little money. He did not pay a heavy price for killing the three traitors.
Shadin, who had pushed away the missing fingernail, turned over his purse. There were ten silver coins and five copper coins.
It was an amount that could last a month if he used it sparingly, but his stomach hurt when he thought about the 500 gold that Akan and the others had stolen.
That was the money Shadin had received as a deposit when he accepted Viscount Wilbur's commission. The remaining 4,500 gold was received in the form of a bank deposit certificate.
However, the deed became unusable because Viscount Wilbur was arrested and charged with treason.
“It’s so annoying, really.”
Shadin carefully picked up each silver coin and put it in his pocket, while uttering a series of six-letter words.
Akan took all the eye drops that would change eye color but left behind the ingredients to make the eye drops.
It seemed like he didn't take it because he wouldn't know how to make eye drops anyway.
“If it comes out to just one bottle, it will come out a lot.”
Shadin raised his heavy body. Now was the time to make at least one bottle.
He clutched his growling stomach and started making eye drops.
When he focused on something, distracting thoughts disappeared. His anger toward the traitors also subsided.
Then the question that had puzzled Shadin all along came back to mind.
Erne Rhineland doesn't seem to be the possessed one. If so, then it's very likely that Judith Harrington is the possessed one.
He tried to cast a curse in the author's name, but it didn't work, so he guessed the author was not in this world.
So who is Judith Harrington?
“Oh my, I’m hungry.”
His belly skin seemed to be stuck to his back skin. Shadin bit his lip in mad hunger.
It seemed like Judith and Newdith had to fill their bellies first.
Shadin put on the finished eye drops, got dressed, and went out of the building.
He would have liked to just go into any restaurant and order a bunch of food, but he didn't have the energy or the money to do that.
Eventually, Shadin stopped at the nearest bakery and bought some bread, and then a package of five eggs from the shop next door.
As he was about to turn back, the noise of the bar stopped Shadin's ankles.
“... It’s so cruel. Oh my God, that’s the first time I’ve seen anything like it.”
“How cruel was it?”
“Three corpses rolled into one, oh my, I hate to think about it, don’t even think about it. The Marquis must have been so shocked that he ordered the corpses and the house to be burned.”
He didn't hear the exact subject, but it seemed like it was a story about those who betrayed him and left.
“But there was something strange. There were a few jars, and they looked like liquor jars...”
Just a complex? Then it's definitely them. Where could the complex be? Surely they didn't burn the whole complex down?
Shadin, who had been loitering in front of the open door, stumbled forward at the touch of a hand.
“Tch, what a bother.”
"Oh..."
The bundle of eggs he was holding in his arms crashed to the floor. Five precious eggs he had bought with his little remaining money. Three of them were shattered.
Shadin looked at the man who had pushed him with an angry face. He was a large man with scars all over his body.
The bar became strangely quiet as the man entered. He felt Shadin's gaze and turned around.
“What are you going to do if you stare at me like that? Aren’t you going to close your eyes?”
As Shadin continued to stare, the man's palm, the size of a pot lid, hit Shadin's head.
There were exclamations of surprise here and there, but no one came to Shadin's aid.
“It’s not even a fistful, slap, slap.”
The man left the fallen Shadin and went into the bar. Shadin's eyes flashed with unconcealed anger as he looked at the two remaining eggs that had been crushed in his arms.
“...A guy like that should die.”
I have a lot of problems.
First of all, the priest. I couldn't predict what the priest who killed all his subordinates would do next. Except that it would be more extreme.
The next problem was making a living. In fact, this was the most important problem.
“There are fewer customers.”
I, sitting at the cash register of the incense shop, opened my ledger and sighed deeply. I had no intention of recovering the sales that had once declined.
“What should I do with this?”
The Count of Rhineland went into austerity mode, cutting back on three meals a day and cutting back on every expense he could.
It wasn't so difficult that I was starving to death right away, but I didn't know when this harsh sales winter would end.
“Should we have a big sale? A buy one get one free event?”
I scratched my head. It was a nice event, but it didn't seem appropriate for the current situation.
I think it will take some time for the hearts of the people living in the empire to turn around.
“I think I’ll export it.”
Why must we sell incense only to the people of the Empire? Why can't we sell it to the people of the Penco Kingdom?
Caroline flashed through my mind. Marchioness Caroline Ferney loved the scented candles I made.
No, no, my dear customer, who is now Caroline Loprey.
“I should try contacting the top of the Loprey. No, I should send a letter to Caroline first.”
I may not be able to trade with her at the top of the Loprey, but Caroline will definitely buy some incense.
Since they have to move back and forth by boat, they must buy in bulk. Now was the time to sell even that.
If people saw the scented candles that Caroline used and wanted to buy them, exports would naturally follow.
He held on by scraping up whatever water, hard bread, and jam remained in the house.
“I’m going to die.”
By the time he had drunk the last drop of water, he was able to sit up.
He opened his wallet to count his remaining money. The nail on his darkened ring finger fell off.
“...Well, this is enough.”
A joint of the left ring finger and a nail. Because of his outstanding spiritual power, he spent little money. He did not pay a heavy price for killing the three traitors.
Shadin, who had pushed away the missing fingernail, turned over his purse. There were ten silver coins and five copper coins.
It was an amount that could last a month if he used it sparingly, but his stomach hurt when he thought about the 500 gold that Akan and the others had stolen.
That was the money Shadin had received as a deposit when he accepted Viscount Wilbur's commission. The remaining 4,500 gold was received in the form of a bank deposit certificate.
However, the deed became unusable because Viscount Wilbur was arrested and charged with treason.
“It’s so annoying, really.”
Shadin carefully picked up each silver coin and put it in his pocket, while uttering a series of six-letter words.
Akan took all the eye drops that would change eye color but left behind the ingredients to make the eye drops.
It seemed like he didn't take it because he wouldn't know how to make eye drops anyway.
“If it comes out to just one bottle, it will come out a lot.”
Shadin raised his heavy body. Now was the time to make at least one bottle.
He clutched his growling stomach and started making eye drops.
When he focused on something, distracting thoughts disappeared. His anger toward the traitors also subsided.
Then the question that had puzzled Shadin all along came back to mind.
Erne Rhineland doesn't seem to be the possessed one. If so, then it's very likely that Judith Harrington is the possessed one.
He tried to cast a curse in the author's name, but it didn't work, so he guessed the author was not in this world.
So who is Judith Harrington?
“Oh my, I’m hungry.”
His belly skin seemed to be stuck to his back skin. Shadin bit his lip in mad hunger.
It seemed like Judith and Newdith had to fill their bellies first.
Shadin put on the finished eye drops, got dressed, and went out of the building.
He would have liked to just go into any restaurant and order a bunch of food, but he didn't have the energy or the money to do that.
Eventually, Shadin stopped at the nearest bakery and bought some bread, and then a package of five eggs from the shop next door.
As he was about to turn back, the noise of the bar stopped Shadin's ankles.
“... It’s so cruel. Oh my God, that’s the first time I’ve seen anything like it.”
“How cruel was it?”
“Three corpses rolled into one, oh my, I hate to think about it, don’t even think about it. The Marquis must have been so shocked that he ordered the corpses and the house to be burned.”
He didn't hear the exact subject, but it seemed like it was a story about those who betrayed him and left.
“But there was something strange. There were a few jars, and they looked like liquor jars...”
Just a complex? Then it's definitely them. Where could the complex be? Surely they didn't burn the whole complex down?
Shadin, who had been loitering in front of the open door, stumbled forward at the touch of a hand.
“Tch, what a bother.”
"Oh..."
The bundle of eggs he was holding in his arms crashed to the floor. Five precious eggs he had bought with his little remaining money. Three of them were shattered.
Shadin looked at the man who had pushed him with an angry face. He was a large man with scars all over his body.
The bar became strangely quiet as the man entered. He felt Shadin's gaze and turned around.
“What are you going to do if you stare at me like that? Aren’t you going to close your eyes?”
As Shadin continued to stare, the man's palm, the size of a pot lid, hit Shadin's head.
There were exclamations of surprise here and there, but no one came to Shadin's aid.
“It’s not even a fistful, slap, slap.”
The man left the fallen Shadin and went into the bar. Shadin's eyes flashed with unconcealed anger as he looked at the two remaining eggs that had been crushed in his arms.
“...A guy like that should die.”
***
I have a lot of problems.
First of all, the priest. I couldn't predict what the priest who killed all his subordinates would do next. Except that it would be more extreme.
The next problem was making a living. In fact, this was the most important problem.
“There are fewer customers.”
I, sitting at the cash register of the incense shop, opened my ledger and sighed deeply. I had no intention of recovering the sales that had once declined.
“What should I do with this?”
The Count of Rhineland went into austerity mode, cutting back on three meals a day and cutting back on every expense he could.
It wasn't so difficult that I was starving to death right away, but I didn't know when this harsh sales winter would end.
“Should we have a big sale? A buy one get one free event?”
I scratched my head. It was a nice event, but it didn't seem appropriate for the current situation.
I think it will take some time for the hearts of the people living in the empire to turn around.
“I think I’ll export it.”
Why must we sell incense only to the people of the Empire? Why can't we sell it to the people of the Penco Kingdom?
Caroline flashed through my mind. Marchioness Caroline Ferney loved the scented candles I made.
No, no, my dear customer, who is now Caroline Loprey.
“I should try contacting the top of the Loprey. No, I should send a letter to Caroline first.”
I may not be able to trade with her at the top of the Loprey, but Caroline will definitely buy some incense.
Since they have to move back and forth by boat, they must buy in bulk. Now was the time to sell even that.
If people saw the scented candles that Caroline used and wanted to buy them, exports would naturally follow.
I wrote a letter to Caroline without delay. Just as I was finishing the letter after much thought, Erne, who was practicing his dagger throwing at the back of the shop, came in.
Because the store was so deserted, Erne couldn't stand the boredom and started doing some light training in the backyard of the store.
“Why are you working so hard?”
He said it was a simple training session, but I didn't think it was anything like that. Erne always came home from training with a fever.
Although he wasn't sweating because of the chilly weather, his breathing was ragged and his bulging muscles were clearly visible through his thin shirt.
Is that really possible with just some body-stretching training?
“There’s ink on your face.”
Erne, who must have been hot, walked towards me with his shirt unbuttoned. He raised his finger and wiped the ink off my cheek.
I swallowed as I felt a subtle heat coming from him as he approached me.
I couldn't take my eyes off the long scar visible through the open collar of his shirt and the rough, rising, and falling muscles of his chest.
Is this a sexual frustration? No, it's not. It's normal for any healthy adult woman to react like this.
Licking my dry lips, I traced the scar on Erne's chest with my fingertips.
Erne's body flinched at the touch of my fingertips.
“How did this scar come about?”
“It looks like it came from a battlefield.”
A rather insincere answer came out of Erne's mouth. But it didn't matter.
Anyway, I probably don't care what this scar looks like.
I guess I just needed an excuse to mess around.
“You must have been in pain.”
My fingers, which were playing on the scar, grew into three. Soon they would touch the palm, and soon they would not fall apart.
This is a very classic tactic. If it weren't for Judith, Erne wouldn't have fallen for this trick.
“Well, not really.”
The ink on my cheek had long since been erased, but Erne did not straighten his back, which was bent toward me. His hand still lingered over my cheek.
“...”
After Ryan and Henry both left work, the store was empty. Only the sound of me and Erne's breathing filled the room.
We can get a little closer here, Erne thought. We need to make more progress.
I did not avoid Erne's eyes or his touch. Instead, I placed my palm on Erne's chest and waited for him to approach.
I had never been one for romance, but I sensed that he was about to kiss me. Even though this was a store, wouldn't a kiss be okay?
Then suddenly I remembered that for the past few days, whenever Erne and I tried to do something, an obstacle would appear.
Surely it won't happen again this time?
The moment when I flinched at the ominous feeling that rose between my strange senses.
“Erne! Madam! Do you know what happened outside just now?”
The store door opened wide and Henry, who had just finished work, came running in. He was quite excited, too.
“It’s a murder case, a murder case!”
Because the store was so deserted, Erne couldn't stand the boredom and started doing some light training in the backyard of the store.
“Why are you working so hard?”
He said it was a simple training session, but I didn't think it was anything like that. Erne always came home from training with a fever.
Although he wasn't sweating because of the chilly weather, his breathing was ragged and his bulging muscles were clearly visible through his thin shirt.
Is that really possible with just some body-stretching training?
“There’s ink on your face.”
Erne, who must have been hot, walked towards me with his shirt unbuttoned. He raised his finger and wiped the ink off my cheek.
I swallowed as I felt a subtle heat coming from him as he approached me.
I couldn't take my eyes off the long scar visible through the open collar of his shirt and the rough, rising, and falling muscles of his chest.
Is this a sexual frustration? No, it's not. It's normal for any healthy adult woman to react like this.
Licking my dry lips, I traced the scar on Erne's chest with my fingertips.
Erne's body flinched at the touch of my fingertips.
“How did this scar come about?”
“It looks like it came from a battlefield.”
A rather insincere answer came out of Erne's mouth. But it didn't matter.
Anyway, I probably don't care what this scar looks like.
I guess I just needed an excuse to mess around.
“You must have been in pain.”
My fingers, which were playing on the scar, grew into three. Soon they would touch the palm, and soon they would not fall apart.
This is a very classic tactic. If it weren't for Judith, Erne wouldn't have fallen for this trick.
“Well, not really.”
The ink on my cheek had long since been erased, but Erne did not straighten his back, which was bent toward me. His hand still lingered over my cheek.
“...”
After Ryan and Henry both left work, the store was empty. Only the sound of me and Erne's breathing filled the room.
We can get a little closer here, Erne thought. We need to make more progress.
I did not avoid Erne's eyes or his touch. Instead, I placed my palm on Erne's chest and waited for him to approach.
I had never been one for romance, but I sensed that he was about to kiss me. Even though this was a store, wouldn't a kiss be okay?
Then suddenly I remembered that for the past few days, whenever Erne and I tried to do something, an obstacle would appear.
Surely it won't happen again this time?
The moment when I flinched at the ominous feeling that rose between my strange senses.
“Erne! Madam! Do you know what happened outside just now?”
The store door opened wide and Henry, who had just finished work, came running in. He was quite excited, too.
“It’s a murder case, a murder case!”
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