Chapter 5

‘I need to get money right away.’

After bringing Julie and Rio home and tucking them in, I fell into deep thought. I needed 50 zeni immediately—no, actually 1,500 zeni for a month’s worth of medicine. I still didn’t have a clear sense of how much 1,500 zeni was in this world, but it seemed about a few months’ wages for an ordinary household.

‘First, when Marcella comes I’ll check every detail of this household’s finances.’

I had no expectation of a lump sum being there. But if money was leaking out, I had to stop it.

‘This isn’t like being an assistant director on a film set.’

Pocket-change pay. Brutal, around-the-clock labor. I hadn’t even always been paid properly.

‘That was when I learned that if a person can’t maintain the bare minimum of living, their passion for dreams will fade.’

Those few who endured that period and rose to become film directors are truly remarkable. I once got off a bus because my vision flickered and I knew I had to quit immediately.

‘This isn’t the time for nostalgia. Is there anything I can sell?’

Jewelry would be the first choice, but there was none to be found in this house that had unintentionally become forcibly minimalist.

‘I’ll have to give Marcella a grilling.’

Then I noticed my unfamiliar reflection in the mirror: long, lustrous black hair that looked slightly brown in the light.

‘The length… it reaches my hips. I’ve heard nobles even use wigs as accessories here.’

Now that I thought about it, a few wig shops I’d passed on my commute came to mind.

I left the house and walked around the cluster of shops. But it was late, and most places were closing or already closed. Some places said they didn’t need black hair. Apparently my hair color wasn’t popular in this world.

‘I need money to buy tomorrow’s medicine…’

After a long search I finally saw another shop with its lights on. This was the last one. I walked up hoping they wanted to buy, and saw a hastily scrawled sign at the door.

[Black hair urgently wanted]

I clenched my fist before I knew it.

‘Did it.’

The shop owner brightened the moment he saw me and hurriedly ushered me inside. He bought my hair at a very good price.

‘Of course I made a few gestures as if I might leave the shop first.’

The owner said such long, well-kept black hair was rare and didn’t even want to cut it.

‘He said he feared I wouldn’t show up.’

The shop owner, having found what he wanted, seemed very pleased.

Whoever the commissioning noble was, they had to be a savior—looking for black hair like this. He said they didn’t usually pay this much, but due to the situation’s special circumstances he got 10,000 zeni, which was only for top-quality blondes.

A small shop handing over 10,000 zeni in cash at once—this being a fantasy world, it seemed plausible. My hair was noticeably shorter, but my spirits were full.

‘I was lazy about washing my hair anyway, so this works out. May that noble be blessed.’

But the people here, including Nicola, didn’t seem to think so.

‘Cornelia, did you… get dumped?’

‘You should at least wear a wig—what are you doing going around with your hair this short?!’

‘How are you ever going to get married like this?’

It seems to be a conservative worldview; they act as if cutting hair will bring about some big calamity, like the Joseon era. I ignored the out-of-line comments hurled at me from all directions.

‘I’m only twenty—marriage?’

At mid-thirties and still unmarried, to me twenty was very young—an age to be having fun.

‘But now I’m a working adult….’

Anyway, I was perfectly satisfied with my new hair, so I responded with a silent smile. Their exaggerated reactions died down a bit.

I returned to my assigned spot, put on my apron, and was about to open the shop when a shadow fell over my head.

“Hey, are you defying me?”

It was my senior.

“What?”

Seeing my puzzled look, the senior snorted as if exasperated.

“Did you think I’d be scared if you chopped your hair?”

‘What nonsense is this.’

“So you think you can do this? I was going to forgive you if you were submissive—but we’ll see.”

Then she spun on her heel and left. A tough-looking girl beside her sniggered mockingly.

“You’re marked for sure now.”

How on earth could cutting your hair be taken as defiance?

“It’s not even a buzzcut.”

But as she said, I really was marked. After that I got assigned overtime every day.

And only to me.

Since that day, for a month I couldn’t leave on time.

But having recently learned something, I decided not to quit while my employment situation was still uncertain.

‘The work itself is easy.’

Because the tasks were simple—transcribing, counting, organizing—I finished them much faster than others.

‘If the senior found out she’d make a fuss, but she’d already gone home.’

So I wasn’t too upset. Apart from that, my apprenticeship was nearly over and I was getting used to most shop tasks, so it wasn’t a bad situation.

‘I still didn’t want to go to work, though.’

Today as always I smiled at the senior who gave me overtime and cursed inwardly while waiting for the other staff to leave.

‘Now~ today’s~ crappy~ overtime~.’

I hummed the lyrics absentmindedly and sat at a corner table on the second floor to look over documents when I sensed someone approaching.

‘By this time everyone should be leaving. Is that senior watching me?’

If he caught me doing things efficiently, worse tasks would follow. Any hope of leaving early would be gone. I looked up with a heavy heart and saw unexpected people standing there.

“Pinea? Nicola?”

Pinea looked displeased, Nicola looked worried as he stared at me.

“When you deal with troublemakers you’re fearless, but are you scared of the senior now?”

“Pinea, don’t say things you don’t mean and calm down.”

For some reason she seemed worked up.

“Calm down? I haven’t done anything wrong—can’t you see she is being foolish about this? Ugh, it’s infuriating!”

“Are you talking about me?”

Pinea, fuming, dragged a chair over and sat beside me. I looked bewildered and she sighed.

“Tell me. We’ll do it with you.”

“Me too! Just say what you need. Let’s finish quickly and go together!”

“I’m fine.”

I really was fine. It would take an hour. But the two didn’t seem willing to back down.

“Why—are you afraid if the senior sees us helping you we’ll get marked too? She’s been gone for ages. It’s fine. Hand it over and we’ll do it fast.”

“Really, it’s okay.”

“Hurry!”

“Ah, fine.”

I calculated that the three of us could finish about the same time and nodded. It didn’t feel bad.

Pinea and Nicola seemed to have the makings of competent workers. They caught on to what I said and, astonishingly, finished the overtime in 40 minutes. That was twenty minutes faster than expected; I’d deliberately worked a bit slower to avoid finishing suspiciously early.

‘I should at least buy them a meal.’

Helping colleagues with overtime is a rare courtesy at work. My conscience wouldn’t let me just say thanks. With the money from selling my hair I wouldn’t worry about medicine for six months, so I could afford a token of thanks.

“Thanks for the help. If it’s okay, can I buy you a beer?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Pinea agreed primly.

“Great! I know a place.”

Nicola excitedly grabbed his bag.

‘How strange.’

It felt like a scene from a movie. It was my first time sitting at a wooden table and drinking beer from a wooden cup. I was also secretly surprised that the shop was lit by candles and low-grade mana stones instead of electric lights.

‘So magic does exist in this world.’

Magicians are rare, so commoners seldom see them. Most are holed up in a place called the mage tower researching. Research isn’t something I’d ever be suited for.

“Is this the first time the apprentices are hanging out together? Cheers, cheers!”

At Nicola’s shout, Pinea and I clinked cups and celebrated being off work. The beer went down smoothly and was on par with modern beverages. Good, good.

“Thanks again for your help today.”

I thanked them once more. Nicola shook his head.

“No problem. Colleagues help each other. We’re the ones sorry for helping so late.”

‘What? He is apologizing too?’

Nicola is like a national treasure—a greenhouse plant that needs protection. I started to genuinely worry about his future.

Pinea also spoke up.

“We finished much sooner than I thought. You’re really fast and accurate.”

Her gaze shifted slightly as if she had reassessed me.

“The senior can’t calculate as fast as you, right? You hardly made mistakes while calculating—I’ve never seen that. Your documents are so tidy. I don’t write well but I can read, and honestly your work looks better than the branch manager’s. Keep this between us, okay? Anyway, where did you learn it?”

‘Well…’

It was a question born of pure curiosity, not envy. I hemmed and hawed.

“My parents taught me to read when I was young, and I think I’m good with numbers because I like them…”

For the record, math always tripped me up on entrance exams. Telling this little lie pricked my conscience.

“Anyway, watch yourself.”

Pinea suddenly raised her index finger and warned me.

“What?”

“The senior.”

“Oh.”

I was already being careful and doing overtime without complaint.

But Pinea’s expression only grew sterner.

“Your overtime work has gone beyond what an apprentice should be doing. It’s not even the work that the full-time staff do. These are documents managers handle. I’ve seen them in the assistant manager’s office a few times.”

“What? Really?”

Nicola was startled. Pinea was outraged.

“Exactly! That senior girl is reporting your work as if she did it herself!”

‘What?’