Chapter 93

But when I looked into it a bit—wondering what kind of absurd country this was—it turned out they had their own reasons.

“A doppelganger, huh…”

Yeah.

One of the West Continent Demon King Disis’s main methods of attacking the continent’s inhabitants was the use of doppelgangers. They infiltrated society, devoured people, and then replaced the ones they ate. After an incident where a doppelganger nearly ended up being enthroned as emperor, the Empire created a system centered entirely around ID cards—by ID cards, for ID cards.

For reference, these ID cards were precision artifacts that emitted a mana pattern doppelgangers couldn’t withstand. Because of that, doppelgangers supposedly could never possess one.

At least, unlike large cities like Redna City, it seemed that in poorly managed outskirts you could still work without an ID card.

What kind of work, you ask? Obviously hunting monsters and magical beasts.

For reference, the West Continent differed a bit from the North Continent in how monster attacks happened—probably due to differences in Demon King disposition. If the North Continent took a massive hit once every several or even dozens of years, this side got attacked constantly, without warning. The monsters here also seemed more aggressive overall.

For reference, on the West Continent, the act of killing monsters and magical beasts was called “hunting,” and those who did it were called “hunters.”

Clink.

So, to earn travel money to head down to the countryside right away—and to cover my food expenses too…

“You’ll be blessed!”

…this was what I was doing.

“Mom. Look, a beggar.”

“Shh. Don’t look. Dirty. Let’s go.”

…I wanted to die.

Honestly, at first I considered stealing, even if it meant shouldering a bit of guilt. But once I actually started doing this, it turned out to be incredibly helpful for gathering information.
I even learned, through begging, that if you went to the Empire’s outskirts, people without ID cards could make decent money through hunting.

Humans were, by nature, endlessly generous to those they considered beneath them. If you acted pitiful and ignorant and asked just one question, everyone rushed to share information.

So, well… the transportation cost I needed wasn’t that large to begin with. Since I’d already started, I figured I might as well keep going and gather more information along the way.

But this was… harder than I expected. The money just wasn’t piling up.

“Hoo. I thought three days would be enough, but… one hundred thousand mil is farther away than I thought.”

Gurrr—

After two days of nothing but water from the public fountain, my stomach loudly announced its hunger.

“That general store… no, the elf working part-time there looked kind… maybe I should go later and ask if they have any expired bread…”

[Looking for night shift workers. Hourly wage: Elf female 15,000 mil / Beastfolk female 10,000 mil / Others 7,600 mil]

“Wow… people are the same everywhere.”

I stood there, mouth hanging open, staring at the recruitment notice posted at the entrance of the general store—the kind of place that sold everything at slightly inflated prices, basically the equivalent of a convenience store on Earth. Seriously. This was discrimination taken to an almost impressive level of bluntness.

For reference, the atmosphere on the West Continent was a bit different from the North Continent.

On the North Continent, maybe because of the macho mindset of “you swing your axe once, I swing mine once,” people of all races tended to be treated at roughly the same level (though that didn’t mean they respected each other)… But over here, good-looking demi-humans were treated far better than humans, who were the majority race. Orcs and reptilian beastfolk were actually discriminated against instead.

“No matter how you look at it… ‘others’ is pushing it. What, are humans not people?”

As I stood there spacing out with my hand on the store door, an elf—who looked like they’d just finished swapping shifts with the night worker—shot me a suspicious glance amid the noisy atmosphere.

She turned her head, long metallic-blue hair swaying, looking like she could be used in a commercial on the spot.

‘Oh. Even by my standards, she’s really pretty. Bet she’s insanely popular.’

With my standards already raised sky-high thanks to Yuribel and Shia, I could stop at just thinking she was pretty. But for other guys, she had the kind of looks that made you want to glue your face to the glass door and stare.

Well… all things considered, that probably explained why her hourly wage was double.

And after begging nearby and watching from a distance for the past few days, I’d noticed something else. It was only morning right now—once foot traffic picked up, you couldn’t tell whether this was a general store or a rush-hour subway station with how packed it got.

Considering how much money the place pulled in, maybe that wage was cheap instead?

Jingle—

“Welcome~”

As the bell rang and I opened the general store door, the elf part-timer greeted me with a bright voice. I dipped my head awkwardly.

“Hello. I’m the person who was sitting out front…”

Even as I spoke to her, I clicked my tongue internally.

What kind of stellar(?) self-introduction was that? “The person sitting out front.” Was that really the only way I could introduce myself as a person?

“The one sitting out front? Hm? Are you here to pick up discarded items, by any chance?”

And yet, unbelievably, she nodded like she understood everything from that alone—and then nailed my purpose perfectly.

Just from “the person sitting out front,” she’d already figured me out this far. Impressive.

“Uh… yes. If it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if you could… maybe give me a few.”

“Hmm… normally I’m not supposed to, but I think it’ll be fine if it’s you, oppa. Please wait a moment.”

She went into the office, then came back with her arms full of assorted items.

Brown bread, white bread, jam, even sandwiches—a whole bundle of discarded food. I panicked at the sight.

“Uh… is it really okay to give me this much?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. If I’m not here, this place’s sales drop to less than a quarter. I could probably empty the safe and no one would say a word. Ah, but you know you’d be in big trouble if you reported us over expiration dates and stuff, right? I’m giving it to you because you don’t seem like the type to do that.”

They even had expiration dates? This really was knockoff South Korea, ID cards and all. The more I heard, the more it felt like a convenience store.

“Ah… thank you very much.”

As I contentedly checked the items I’d received—complete with a plastic bag (apparently made by drying and processing farmed slimes)—a white slip of paper fluttered down.

Wondering what it was, I picked it up. It was the receipt for the food I was holding.

“……”

“……”

The elf part-timer stared back and forth between the discarded food and the receipt, utterly dumbfounded.

“Huh? Brin definitely said these were discarded… so why is there a receipt…? Did I mistake something a customer paid for and left behind as waste and give it to you?”

The moment I saw the receipt, I understood the situation—and summed it up in one question that cut through her confusion.

“Um… this Brin person, are they your coworker?”

“Yes.”

“A man?”

“Yes. A human man. About sixty years old this year, a refined gentleman… or rather, he was. Up until just now.”

“Ahh….”

Simply put, the overnight shift coworker had bought all this food with his own money and handed it to her. And the receipt had come along with it, plain as day.

Whether slipping the receipt in was a genuine mistake or a clumsy “Oops, you caught me, teehee~” attempt to earn goodwill, I didn’t know. Either way, it was so shallow—and so pure—that it was almost touching.

“These… I really shouldn’t take them—”

At that, the elf girl visibly shuddered.

“No, please, I beg you, take them. Ugh… no, wait a moment.”

She rushed back into the office and came out again, stuffing even more things—clearly also “discarded” items from the night shift—into my bag.

The expression on her face, like she was staring at a mop wrung out in milk, was a bonus.

“Thank you! Have a good day!”

Jingle.

The door closed, and I was practically pushed outside the general store. I looked down into the now-plump plastic bag.

“That’s a lot. If I ration this properly, I won’t have to worry about food until I scrape together a hundred thousand mil.”

I couldn’t say I felt zero guilt toward that Brin fellow… but it would’ve ended up like this sooner or later anyway.

If you really thought about it, I’d actually saved them future wasted effort and money—so I deserved thanks instead. Seriously. Every elf I knew was kind, yes, but also extremely sharp and possessed of a strong sense of self-interest.

“No, well… that’s not what matters right now.”

Grinning at the thought of food I’d finally get to eat after nearly two days, I headed back to where I’d left my pot and newspaper.

It was a bit of a shame I didn’t have anything to drink, but that was easily solved by scooping water from the public fountain.

A cup? Did I really need one? I could just drink straight from the pot.

But then—

“Huh!? Where did it go!?”

What the hell was this? I’d only been gone for ten minutes at most, yet in that short time, both my pot and the Recall Dagger fixed to its handle had vanished.

“What the hell—where did it disappear to in that time!?”

As I looked around in disbelief, I spotted the dwarf I’d seen earlier, leisurely pushing a handcart in the distance.

And the stack of boxes on it looked slightly bulkier than before. No doubt about it. It was him. A mistake? Not a chance. I trusted my eyes.

“That bastard… don’t you have any professional ethics? How do you even think about stealing a beggar’s alms bowl(?)?”

When I strode up to him, the dwarf—wearing faded red pants and a grime-stained short-sleeved shirt—scratched his face and glared at me, clearly ready to throw a punch.

“Hey. Mister dwarf. We’re both struggling to survive here—don’t you think this is a bit much? Stealing a beggar’s alms bowl(?)?”

The dwarf bared yellowed teeth through his bushy beard.

“You little shit whose blood ain’t even dried yet, what’re you runnin’ your mouth for?! Wanna die?! Who the hell are you?! A beggar trash pickin’ a fight—if you die, who’s gonna clean you up, huh?! I’m tellin’ you nice, so piss off! You fucking bastard!”

“…Wow.”

I was momentarily speechless. It was because a thick Gyeongsang-do dialect¹ poured out of the dwarf’s mouth along with a barrage of curses. More precisely, that was how my translator rendered it.

Wait.

Now that I thought about it… wasn’t the language pack I received supposed to be North Continent–only?

So why was I understanding and speaking West Continent speech this fluently?

“Then who else would it be but you? I was gone for five minutes—okay, ten—and you’re the only one who passed by. If it wasn’t you, then who took it?”

“You fucking bastard. You got proof? You got any proof, huh!?”

“Then let’s just check that cart once. Just once. If it really isn’t there, I’ll give you everything I’ve earned from work. About two hundred thousand mil.”

Of course, I didn’t even have fifty thousand mil, let alone two hundred thousand.

The dwarf narrowed his eyes.

“Take it out.”

“Hm?”

“Take it out, I said. Show me the money. If you do, I’ll let you search the cart.”

Oh, this bastard. Full-on trying to shake me down.

When I stayed silent, he must’ve decided I was scared. He stepped closer and grabbed the ragged sackcloth I was wearing. No matter how nice clothes were, if you rolled around in the mountains and let them sit for three days, they turned into rags.

When I still didn’t react, he casually pulled out a finger-length knife from his chest. It looked like something used for opening boxes.

“You fucker. Take the money out before I smear you on the ground.”

“…….”

“What, you gone stupid? I’m talkin’ to you, and you’re just standin’ there? I’ll split your mouth open and—”

Without a word, I flicked the dwarf’s hand.

It was a simple motion, but so fast that he didn’t even realize what had happened. He just stared dumbly at his now-empty hand.

“Seriously. Scumbags are the same no matter where you go. Let’s start with you taking a hit first. Yeah?”