Chapter 48

The third pig came running into the workshop belatedly. Without time to exchange greetings, the third pig grabbed his work bag and rushed out of the workshop.

“Busy, busy.”

“Seriously.”

Drich and Twella each made a comment. The first and second pigs chimed in too. Oink oink, oink oink.

Quilbion, watching this scene, ran both hands down his face.

“Again?”

*

He came to his senses.

He’d been staring into the pitch-black darkness, then remembered. Ah, right, I can’t see anything.

He tried to lift his hand, but it wouldn’t move. Even moving a single finger was difficult.

Quilbion let out a faint groan.

What the hell happened?

While organizing his thoughts, the pig that had been running around in his dream suddenly came to mind. The pig wearing blue suspender pants.

He couldn’t remember the context, but the pig’s form remained vividly in his memory.

I think I had a similar dream before.

A hollow laugh escaped at the bizarre content.

After spending all day stuck with pigs, was he seeing pigs in his dreams too?

Ah.

He remembered.

I’d fought a goblin.

It had been a dogfight like no other.

The harrowing moment came back to life.

Quilbion had charged at the goblin within his sight, gripping a stone. But just because he could see the opponent didn’t mean all his problems were solved.

While running, his ankle twisted and he fell. It seemed he’d stepped on a stone. He could only gauge the distance to the enemy—there was no way to know what lay at his feet.

From his sprawled position, he looked at the goblin. The thing moved sluggishly. So sluggishly it was frustrating.

He got back up and charged at it, striking with the stone.

He felt the squishy flesh. The goblin swung its long neck to attack, which was fairly fast but not impossible to dodge.

Prepared to fall, he jumped to the left to avoid the swinging neck and charged again.

He struck with the stone, and struck again.

Then his grip tore and he dropped the stone.

Finding a stone he couldn’t see again was impossible.

Left with no choice, he bared his teeth.

He bit into the creature’s soft flesh with all his might and tore it off in one go.

The goblin fumbled and said, it hurts.

It hurts—there was no more welcome sound than that.

He tore with his teeth and dug his hands into the wounds, gouging them out.

He really clung to it in a frenzy, dismantling the goblin.

Honestly, his memory was hazy after he got knocked back a third time and clung on again.

Only the tactile sensations remained.

Then he’d passed out, and the fact that he’d survived to open his eyes like this meant…

“I won, fuck.”

His mouth felt gritty. The thought that pieces of the goblin’s flesh were stuck between his teeth made him shudder.

He barely managed to turn his head and kept spitting out saliva.

His neck could move, at least.

He concentrated on his fingers and toes. Sensation was returning bit by bit.

I survived, I survived again.

“You’re really disgusting.”

Twella’s voice came from beside his head. He slowly moved his eyes. Twella’s fantasy appeared.

She was wearing a leather top. The same outfit he’d seen in his dream. Her age looked to be late twenties or so.

“Do you want to live that badly?”

“Yeah, I’m going to live. I’ll survive and come see your face, so look forward to it.”

“You want to see me that much?”

“I do. Enough to kill you.”

“Your words are strange, you.”

It was Twella, giggling keke.

“Isn’t living too hard for you?”

Twella extended her hand. Her finger touched his forehead. Even though it was a fantasy, he could feel the touch of her finger.

His brain seemed even more broken.

“Is your life easy?”

“I wonder. I’m curious too. Whether I’m living well, or suffering like you.”

“I hope you’re living well. That way your face will crumple when I come find you.”

“You want to kill me that badly?”

“Yeah. I think I’ll be able to sleep comfortably once I kill you.”

“Cruel.”

It was Twella, smiling faintly.

“Get lost already. It came from inside my head anyway.”

“It might not be.”

“Bullshit.”

“Winte saw me, didn’t he? Quil, maybe I really exist?”

“He didn’t see you—he analyzed my broken head. He said he’s close to being a god. He can do at least that much.”

He gritted his teeth and sat up. Pain like he’d been threshed for two days straight circled through his entire body.

Still, the fortunate thing was that his hands and feet moved properly.

He raised his hand to rub his shoulder and pressed down firmly on his calf that was twitching with spasms.

“Ah.”

Thanks to the pain, his head cleared instead, and his clearer brain made him think of the bird.

“Hey, are you alive? Answer me if you are.”

He’d definitely heard the sound of it hitting the wall after being struck by the goblin. Quilbion groped around desperately, praying.

Please be alive, please.

There was something that caught on his hand. It wasn’t the bird. Smooth shoes.

It was Winte.

“Winte! There should be a bird nearby. It’s badly hurt, so if you could take care of it…”

“You talking about this?”

With a thud, something dropped beside him. Quilbion ran his trembling hands over the object.

Feathers. A body with no warmth whatsoever.

It’s dead.

Emptiness rushed in. Dying this futilely?

“Fuck, you stupid thing. You should’ve just flown away! Why did you get hit by that thing like an idiot.”

His lower jaw trembled. It was grief that came one step late. He was lifting the bird’s corpse to hold it when he noticed something.

Something was off. He sniffled and carefully felt the corpse.

“This one… isn’t this small.”

“Pretty boring for melodrama.”

“What?”

Screee, the familiar cry came from Winte’s shoulder. Quilbion stared blankly at Winte.

“I just made the one flying around beside you quiet for a bit.”

“Then this is…”

Quilbion slowly set down the bird he’d been holding.

“It’s a crow. Completely different from that hawk you treasure.”

The bird flew over. The familiar weight on his shoulder. Quilbion smiled brightly and pulled the bird into an embrace.

“You were alive, you were alive.”

“It’s a much smarter creature than you. As if it would die.”

“You should’ve told me sooner!”

“Why should I?”

Curses rose all the way to behind his front teeth. He barely managed to hold them back.

“You have a really great personality, Winte.”

“Just curse already.”

“Damn it, you son of a bitch! After that, are you even human?”

“Crazy bastard. You actually do it when told to?”

“You said to! Why!”

For the first time, Winte made a tsk tsk sound with his tongue.

“What made you worth doing all that for?”

Winte said with displeasure.

“Who did what?”

“You don’t need to know, so hurry up and come down to make coffee. They’re pretty decent beans, so take good care of them.”

Thunk.

Something hit his head and fell to the floor. It must be the bag containing the beans.

He picked it up while asking.

“Ah, I could see the goblin.”

“For you to just now be seeing them is a talent, if you call it that. A rotten talent.”

“You said so yourself, Winte. That sight isn’t everything. If I use nark…”

While speaking, he moved his nark.

It was still strongly bound and didn’t leave its place, but it vibrated subtly.

As the nark trembled, light began to hover in the world.

Winte right in front of him blazed with intense golden light, while the bird in his arms glowed with a gentle green.

When he looked at the floor, black-tinged red light was scattered everywhere. It seemed to be the goblin’s remains.

“I won. You should’ve seen me bite it to death.”

“I saw.”

“You saw?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you should’ve helped.”

After a pause, just before Winte’s mouth opened, Quilbion grinned and continued.

“You were about to say ‘why should I,’ weren’t you?”

“No. I just left you alone because there was no way you’d die.”

“…Would you have saved me if I was about to die?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I need someone to brew coffee.”

The golden light disappeared. Quilbion looked around, then gazed upward. Far away, in what seemed to be the rooftop, the golden light settled.

“What a weird guy.”

Quilbion scratched the bird’s head.

“By the way, you’re a hawk. I’ve seen them a few times too. Rich people traveling through the village raised them for hunting. They were pretty impressive—I bet you look like that too?”

The bird that had been lightly pecking his hand with its beak flew up into the sky.

Only then did the tension remaining in his body release completely. Right, it was alive.

He moved his hand and gripped the dead crow.

I should at least bury it.

After getting up, he spat toward the goblin’s remains. He’d clean it up later.

When his nark fell asleep, the world became pitch-black again. He’d been able to see Winte, the goblin, and the hawk though.

He squeezed his nark again.

The golden color on the rooftop was Winte, the thing circling far in the sky was the hawk.

He looked around.

Only darkness filled the space.

The crow’s corpse showed no change either.

Could it be that only living things were visible?

Then why couldn’t he see the insects crawling all around?

Wait.

Quilbion turned around.

The goblin’s remains that had been scattered while emitting dark red light were gradually fading.

“Is it nark?”

He muttered to himself and tilted his head.

If what he was seeing was nark.

“Why can I see that one?”

Why could he see the hawk flying in big circles?

There was one person who could explain clearly, but…

Quilbion looked at Winte glowing golden.

Even if he asked, there’d be no answer. He’d just get scolded to come brew coffee.

After burying the crow’s corpse, he entered his room.

His whole body ached. He rested his head on the pillow and pulled the blanket over himself. While blankly waiting for sleep, the death match with the goblin came to mind.

A small laugh escaped.

I won.

For the first time, he’d killed a goblin.

It had been a dogfight, but either way, the one who survived was him. And his nark was listening to him bit by bit.

Small hopes were gathering.

Maybe he’d survive to the end and escape this place.

The question Winte had thrown came back to life.

What will you do after that?

“You said you’d kill me?”

As if waiting for it, Twella’s fantasy appeared. Quilbion stared at the fantasy quietly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I know. That even if I say I’ll kill you dozens of times, it’s impossible.”

“Are you giving up?”

Quilbion put his interlaced hands behind his head.

“If I somehow survive and get out of here, will I even remember someone like you? I’m going to live happily.”

“Happily? What kind of happiness do you want?”

“First, I’ll work like hell until I become an adult. The employer’s personality is trash, but he’s thorough with money calculations. If I work outside for a few years, I can escape slave status.”

“Then?”

“I’ll beat the employer just enough that he won’t die. I have to pay back what I got hit unfairly for. The employer will understand. And his daughter. I’ll throw her in the pig pen and make her roll around for half a day. That’s the only way she’ll come to her senses.”

Just thinking about it made him laugh.

“Once I’m done settling things, I’ll leave the village. I’ll go to Bamilgel and open a shop.”

“With that personality, can you do business?”

“I’m good at pleasing people. You just don’t know.”

“And then?”

“I’ll find a partner. A woman who’ll be with me for life.”

Twella’s face came right up to his nose. She stared directly at Quilbion with her pale green eyes.

“Quil. But you know what?”

Strands of hair hanging down touched Quilbion’s face.

“The word ‘trust’ has disappeared from your heart. I know. From now on, even when you meet people, you’ll be suspicious first. You might give them affection. But even while giving affection, you’ll be watching them.”

Twella whispered in his ear.

“Because you’ll be afraid they’ll betray you like I did.”

As if what she’d said was so amusing, Twella covered her mouth with both hands and giggled keke.

Quilbion asked back with an expressionless face.

“Have you ever trusted a person?”

Twella didn’t answer.