Chapter 6 _ The Price of Resolve, or the Value of Rest
Morning sunlight slipped through the gaps of the shack, turning the dust in the air white.
What awaited me after carrying the corpses was the same tasteless meal Roger always served.
“Hey. Get over here, doll.”
Without thinking, I put some distance between us.
Roger noticed and let out a guttural laugh.
“Hah! I told you—I’m not doing anything right now.
The job’s done. Eat. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
What he handed me was the same as yesterday:
rock-hard black bread, and strong ale—probably meant to drown out the smell of blood.
“…This is all there is?”
“Don’t get picky. If you don’t like it, don’t eat.
Complain about a free meal, and I’ll knock your teeth out.”
I sat down quietly and bit into the black bread.
It was sour and crumbly.
But even after witnessing something that horrific, my body still demanded food.
My stomach, desperate to survive, clung to that tasteless bread.
“…So,” Roger said at last.
“How was your first job?”
“…How do you think?
It was the worst. My hands are still shaking.”
“Hmph. Then that’s good.
One piece of advice, though—keep your mouth shut.
If you tell anyone, consider your life forfeit.”
His eyes briefly sharpened.
“You never know where the client’s people might be using listening magic.
…If you talk, you’ll end up the same way as those two.
That’s what it means to share a secret.”
“The same as them…”
“Yeah. Power struggles, murder, dirty mistakes.
Our job is to clean up what can’t be brought into the open.
And not every client is decent.
Sometimes, after the job’s done, you get erased to destroy the evidence.”
Roger drained his ale in one gulp.
“…You survived yesterday because you were lucky.
Don’t forget that.”
With that, he collapsed into sleep like a lump of mud.
I checked the weight of the two thousand Fanann hidden in my clothes
and headed toward the central district.
The city was already buzzing with life.
The magical lights of night had faded, replaced by the real sun.
As I walked, I found myself standing in front of the inn that had thrown me out the day before.
“Welcome—
…Oh. It’s you.”
The innkeeper stared at me in surprise.
“…How much does it cost to stay here?”
“Eighty Fanann a night, two meals included.
…You staying?”
“You’re not going to kick me out?”
I let out a self-mocking smile.
The innkeeper studied my face, then slowly shook her head.
“…Your eyes are different from before.
Back then, you looked like a newborn baby.
Now… you’ve got the eyes of a man who’s made up his mind.”
Her words made my chest tighten.
With trembling hands, I pulled the pouch of coins from my pocket.
Yesterday, when I’d accepted the job, I hadn’t felt it.
Now, the heavy weight pressed into my palm—
as if it were the price of those two lives.
“…Ten days, please.”
“Alright. Eight hundred Fanann, paid up front.
Here’s your key. Room 201, second floor.”
I entered the room and closed the door.
A soft bed.
The smell of clean sheets.
That alone was enough to nearly make me cry.
(Eighty Fanann a day…
If one Fanann is about a hundred yen, that’s eight thousand a night.)
Numbers ran through my head.
(Then yesterday’s pay—two thousand Fanann…
That’s two hundred thousand yen!?)
Two hundred thousand.
For just a few hours of carrying corpses.
It was an absurdly high—and ominous—hazard fee
paid to a disposable doll named Mario.
Still wearing my filthy clothes, I sank into the bed.
Roger’s words—You were lucky—
echoed in my ears like a curse.
When I woke up next time…
Would I still be human?
Holding onto that fear,
I fell into a sleep as heavy and deep as mud.
