MaruMAːMini-novel:nicetrip2

Have a Nice Trip - Part 2

Now that I think about it, His Majesty always comes here by being swept away in water, but does he ever drown on the way here?

I was done for.

My arms, my legs, my neck and my head - everywhere was heavy. So heavy I couldn't move.

I just barely knew that I was alive because of this cold feeling and the fact that I was breathing. It's not just cold - my entire body feels like it's going to freeze solid. Not only am I drenched, it seems like it's night time and the wind is mercilessly cooling me down. Even though it's the end of summer, if you're in the water for a long time, the warmth in your body will be whisked away.

I can hear the gentle flow of water a little ways away.

I might be near a river.

"Hey, get up. Hey."

Someone slaps my cheek without holding back their strength.

Both of my eyelids are glued shut and don't seem like they're going to open again, but even if I try to respond, what comes out of my throat isn't a voice but muddy water. After repeating that a few times, I'm finally able to let out a groan.

I just gasp for breath after they call out to me.

"Oh, so you're alive like I thought."

Like I said right before I fell, if this is the first time I've swam, this is also the first time I've drowned. I had no way of knowing that being submerged in water was so tiring. How dare they say 'so you're alive' after I thought I would die.

There were two faces above my head when I finally managed to open my eyes.

One face that wasn't the least bit concerned and another face that was smirking. Neither of them seem very likable, but if they saved my life, it's a different story.

I had fallen into the river from the cliff- no, I had been thrown into the very far down river. The fact that I was alive was a miracle in itself, but maybe these unfriendly guys had saved me as I was about to get swept away in the flow.

The two peering down at me were men that looked like a rat and a cat. It's strange that two natural enemies are together, but these two are, at the very least, human. They're not going to eat or get eaten by the other. The small man that had a rat face spoke with a voice like creaking wheels.

"Well, a living brat can be used in more ways than a dead one."

Without understanding what was being said to me, I just stared at the man's face like an idiot. He only had a little dirty hair left, but I was so focused on it I couldn't help myself.

"You, what's your name?"

"... Jo-...."

"You can't even say your name?"

Wondering how he had misjudged my bad condition, the man released his grip on my clothes. Thanks to that, I slammed the back of my head on the damp ground and ended up moaning again.

Still smirking, the cat face man asked his partner, "Can we sell him even if he's like this? Can we?"

Sell?

"Well he's just skin and bones. If it's just to use him and throw him away, then some landowner will buy him. We went through all the trouble of going into the river to save him, so he has to be of use somehow."

I understood immediately. It was because I had heard similar ominous talk while I was living at the church.

There were those who sold children instead of pigs and cows. To those people, the lives of others were meaningless and they would sell even their own children if it meant they could get some money. These two who looked like natural enemies were two of that sort of people.

It was stupid to think for even a moment that they had saved my life.

Luckily, I had been let go of and I desperately push my limbs that seemed to have turned to stone into motion and somehow stand up. I tried to run away, but I couldn't manage to push myself that far. My ankle was grabbed and I fell.

Even though the me from two years ago could steal money out of merchants' pockets and be able to run away if I got caught in the act! This is all because I haven't been eating properly. So now I can't carry on when I need to. I was cursing myself in my mind, blaming the fact that I don't have a body that can protect itself on my eating situation.

Of course, the rat face man didn't care. He's turning over my body with his foot to appraise me. His partner with the reddish brown eyes that looked like a stray cat's is looking around to see if anything else was floating in the river flow.

"Wait, this brat isn't some runaway or orphan."

"Hm? How can you tell?"

"Look at his clothes; they're colorless. He probably escaped from that place."

"Escaped!? He came from up there!? No way, I've never seen anyone do that."

"Yeah, but you know, are there any orphans who wear clothes without any color?"

Orphans definitely wear mismatched, stolen clothes. While he has a dumb look to him, it seems he has some level of observational skill. But just like that, 'I noticed something, I see, he's in the middle of escaping,' my clothes have given me away.

"Which means he's a mazoku. He's definitely a mazoku brat."

To be exact, I am in between a mazoku and a human, though.

Just as I thought I would be let go after them finding that out and thinking I was bad luck, the cat face points at me, laughing.

"Even if he's a mazoku, those guys gathered together in those shelters can't use scary abilities or anything. My old boss said that trained houjutsu users are a lot scarier."

Damn, what useless blood.

The two of them are having a carefree conversation along the lines of 'So if we turn him in to an official, can we get a reward?'

"Probably not. There's no bounty out for him and he's this skinny little thing."

"Ah, we've got bad luck. If we could just get our hands on a runaway rich kid, we could spend the rest of our lives playing around with the huge ransom."

Hearing 'rich kid,' I suddenly remember. That's right. There was a kid who would be worth a lot more money than me.

"Hey... hey, you guys. If you're talking about making a fortune on a ransom, I know a rich kid. A well-brought up one that was floating along the river with me. The clothes he's wearing and his manners are all top-quality. He might be able to make you some money?"

However, the rat-cat duo square their shoulders and look at me with faces that say 'what are you talking about, brat?'

"You were the only one there. You were floating along belly up like a dead fish so we almost thought you were done for."

"What did you say!?"

That jerk! So he pushes me off but didn't jump down himself!?

I took care of him so much. He owes me. He betrayed that kindness. The parents send their child off alone to an internment camp and the child throws acquaintances off cliffs. What an ungrateful jerk.

Conrad... I thought you were my friend.

But at the very least, he'll serve the purpose of being smoke and mirrors for my enemies here.

"You guys, that's really a shame. If that Young Master had jumped into the river, you'd be writing up blackmail to send to a rich person right now. Ah, but old man, can you write? If you write a letter to cheat someone out of a huge amount of money but the writing is like a worm crawled across the page, it will affect your bad-guy image."

The duo hesitates after hearing such a long utterance from their haul that they thought was almost dead. Like they hadn't managed to grasp the meaning, they turn to look at each other.

"What's a bla-, blackmail? Do you know?"

"No, but it's probably something that will get money."

"You guys, you don't even know what blackmail is!?"

With this chance that had suddenly appeared, I pushed the rat bastard's foot off and sat up. Now is the time to gain the upper hand.

"It's amazing that you can play the part of the villain without even knowing that much. If you like, I can teach you."

"... You? Teach us?"

"That's right. You just need to write it like this. I'll write one for you. Use it as an example."

Picking up a fallen stick, I draw some vague symbols in the wet ground. Of course, I also don't know the writing, but for now it just has to look like it. By the time I wrote three lines, they had fallen for it. They're gazing at it like they're impressed.

"What I'm writing right now is 'your son is in good health.' Practice that. If you memorize that, you can use it."

"That's handy."

The dumb duo do as I say and start copying and comparing the writing. They've completely forgotten that they were going to sell this brat off up until a moment ago. While they're absorbed in copying the ridiculous symbols, I try to sneak away and quietly inch backwards.

However, the two stupid, small-time villains weren't the only ones trying to prevent my escape.

"Oh, what are you three doing together? Drawing some little kid scribbles on the ground?"

"What do you mean, scribbles? We're practicing how to write blackmail. We won't let you off easy if you make fun of us-"

Cat-chan and Rat-chan snap their heads up at the voice that called out to them, but they freeze in place with their necks bent at that angle. Their brows and the corners of their eyes droop pitifully and they look like they could start crying like babies at any moment.

The person standing at the end of their gaze is a man with simple yet quality traveling clothes. He had tied his horse up a distance away and snuck up unnoticed on the two focused villains and me driven to desperation. The world is definitely full of enemies. Not only that, it seems like this new one is quite formidable.

He folds his healthy, meaty arms in front of his chest and is standing with his left foot put slightly forward. There is a sword unlike any I have ever seen hanging from his waist.

He looks about forty so he doesn't seem to be very old, but compared to the adults in town, the presence surrounding him is clearly different. He seems used to quarreling and the corners of his mouth surrounded by stubble are turned up in amusement. The longish hair that covers his collar and his eyes that are narrowed like he wants to laugh are a commonplace brown.

However, he had mysterious eyes that I feel like I've seen somewhere.

I feel like I've seen them somewhere.

The man came three steps closer and stepped on the edge of my 'writing.'

"Oh, it was blackmail? I thought you were drawing a flock of ducks crossing the river... And? Do you have a plan to threaten someone using that blackmail with pictograph-like writing?"

Seeing that they were unlikely to best him, the two hoodlums immediately change their attitude.

"No no no no, sir. There's no way we would threaten anyone."

"That's right, sir. We're upstanding citizens."

"Why are upstanding citizens practicing writing a dangerous letter?"

The man jerked his chin up as if to urge them to explain.

"Well, that's, this is so if our son goes missing and a letter comes, we'll be able to tell if it's blackmail or not. You see, we can't read very well, so if we go around making a fuss not knowing if he's been kidnapped or if he ran away, we'd cause trouble for all of the officials."

"I see. And is this your son?"

The duo hesitated for a moment. I can't let this opportunity pass me by.

"No!" I flap my arms and legs around meaninglessly and do my best to make my voice sound as sympathetic as possible. Alright, my legs move. I should be able to run somehow like this. "That's wrong, old man! I'm not these two's son! These two kidnapped me for money and were about to write blackmail!"

"N-no, sir, that's wrong! Everything this brat is saying is a lie!"

"I'm telling the truth, old man! Please believe me!"

"... Both sides are hard to believe... Ah-"

"Ah!"

When the man pressed his fingers to his temple, I started running as fast as I could. The duo left behind are urging the man with the sword on.

"Please go after him! He's a brat that escaped from that place upstream! If we don't bring him in to the officials, we'll be punished!"

"So he wasn't your son after all. That's why neither of you looked like him."

I thought that it would be the end if I was chased on horseback, but no matter how far I ran, the sound of hooves wasn't coming nearer. It seems like the man has thankfully settled on just the two villains instead of capturing me. Those two have probably piled up some small bad deeds. If he turns them in to the military or the officials, it will likely be much more profitable than turning me in.

As I continued running along the damp ground, it eventually dried and turned hard and became a grey and red stone road. The vegetation on both sides disappears and houses where people live begin to line up. At first, they were only intermittent, but eventually the gaps became smaller and the road had definitively led into a town.

The shops were open and people were coming and going, whispering and laughing. All around me was filled with the liveliness of the evening. I almost bumped into wagons several times and came close to being kicked by donkeys with long eyelashes.

My exhausted legs hurt every time they connected with the ground and my knees were creaking and crying out, but I still didn't feel like stopping.

I was running through town.

Not through a near-wasteland with nothing but yellow dirt.

I was running through a town.

---

After spending three days there, town life became natural and after seven days passed, I started to wonder just where I had been living until now. I thought of the days I spent isolated because of my mazoku blood as something from the far away past.

The first night I was busy finding a place to sleep, procuring dinner, and wracking my brain for ways to stave off the cold, but I got used to everything quickly after that. It was nothing. The night breeze in a town packed with houses was nothing compared to the wind that cut across the wasteland.

If some rich kid was suddenly thrown out into the street they would be at a loss as for what to do, but if they went through that cruel experience, this tiny inconvenience would not cause them any stress. There was a stable for travelers on the side of the inn and right next to that was a bar that was open all night. In the early morning, the bakery lights a fire for the kettle. If I crawled into any of the alleys facing them, I could sleep without worrying about freezing even if it was winter. Even if I didn't have a fur cloak to wrap myself in, I had more than enough to live in the town.

Also, it was now the end of summer. Although the temperature is going down with fall around the corner, even if I slept on the side of the road, the most that would happen would be that I would catch a cold.

However, I needed to change my clothes as soon as possible. Yes, they were wet and uncomfortable, but just like with that duo from before, it would be bad if someone figured out my origin from the color of my clothes.

With a face like a child going home for dinner, I wandered around the houses. I had to at least find a coat, but even though I was searching for something I could fit into, there was no laundry hanging at this time in the evening. The one thing just barely hanging out of a window was a thin, flashily-colored thing that women working at bars wore.

Seeing that flutter in the gentle breeze, I suddenly remember the women at the village.

Once the clothes that they were originally wearing fell apart, they were each given one set of clothes in the same shape and color.

They were items that did not keep the cold out well. There were definitely women among them who were originally wearing things like this. There were probably even those wearing high-quality clothes woven with even more beautiful thread.

I wonder about Lidona.

Lidona was a woman, too. She undoubtedly wore brighter aprons and accessories in her hair before coming to the village. If she applied some real fruit oil to that dull hair, it would have shone even more beautifully. The women at the bar I was raised in did that.

I wonder if Lidona wants to wear clothes like this again...

What am I thinking about?! I shake my head vigorously and drive out my foolish thoughts. That woman betrayed us. She healed wounds and pretended to be on the side of the children while keeping an eye on us and reporting to the Shimaron military. For a long time, from the time the village was established, she had been deceiving all of us.

I don't want to remember someone like that.

Anyway, a change of clothes came first. Even if I grabbed the eye-catching, fluttering thing, they would not look like normal clothes. Luckily it wasn't a dress that went down to my lower half, but when I wore it, I looked like a clown at a circus.

So I had no choice-... Oh, it's surprisingly comfortable.

This wasn't something to judge by its looks. I seem to have done some good shopping. I haven't bought it, though.

After securing a change of clothes and a place to sleep, I immediately went to work the next day. I say work, but I don't mean where you're properly hired and earn wages. I get money when my shoulder bumps into someone or while the other person is distracted by the pretty girls inviting them into shops.

Strictly speaking, this is a crime, but if it's for food to survive then there's no choice. The god of humans, the god of those in between human and mazoku, and even the god of the mazoku, if it exists, would probably turn a blind eye.

I quickly regained my intuition and in just three days, I was making the same amount of money that I was two years ago. After five days, I had no problems with food, and on the seventh day, I had some change left over even if it was only a little.

Old clothes were old clothes and as long as it was something that will keep the fleas out, it's about enough to buy a jacket that isn't for women.

However, for me who had been living day to day for a long time, this was the first time I had leftover money in my hands. Come to think of it, this was the first chance in my life to accumulate some savings.

But when this happens, people's greed comes out.

Forgetting the reasons behind me getting this money, I started to think about having fun and doubling it.

Fun... in other words, gambling.

Thinking about it calmly, there was no way an amateur without any experience would suddenly win. It would only end with them losing all of their money and winding up kicked out completely naked with a debt. But hopeless folks would never think of such things. At the most, they would think that before them lie the thrill of victory and a rosy life.

They would believe without doubt that they would be dealt the best hand and a miracle that had happened to no one in the past several years would happen to them. I was the same. Until I passed through the door to the bar and stepped into the back room.

This place filled with the stench of alcohol and tendrils of tobacco smoke had a unique sort of strange atmosphere. It was dim even though it was still noon and the lights were only illuminating the tabletops. Also, the employees and other customers were intently gazing only at the hands of the players.

Their sparkling gazes had the same enthusiasm in them as if they were watching a public execution. Usually people just got away with getting whipped or having their arms and legs broken, but rarely a worse capital punishment would be carried out. There are a countless number of eyes belonging to those who liked watching that sort of thing in this room.

It seems like they're waiting for someone amongst the competition to lose rather than win.

Someone brought back to reality by severely losing and realizing that they have no more money left in their wallet. Someone to grieve, scream, or throw themselves on the ground and run to the bright outdoors while moaning. They look like they're all just intently waiting for that to happen. And of course. It's a gathering of only gamblers so it's a given that they think that they're the only ones who should win.

For a twelve year old child who hadn't yet reached the height of an adult to go into that crowd was beyond reckless. And I only had small change in my pocket! Just enough change to buy a used jacket.

Thinking back now, I had done something terrifying. It wouldn't have been strange if I had lost my life. If my present self had been in that place, as soon as I saw a twelve year old brat, I would have picked him up under my arm and carried him out of there while saying, 'Hey hey hey, play with big sister outside, okay?'

I didn't know fear.

The cheap floor creaked when I took a step forward, but no one turned around. I had prepared myself for everyone to turn their gazes on me at once, but that was a completely unnecessary worry.

Everyone in the room was holding their breath and watching a table. Among them were those who really had forgotten to breathe. There were men whose hands had stopped in midair as they were bringing cigarettes to their mouths and women who were stopped in the middle of carrying away empty mugs on trays, but every one of them were all facing the the match going on at the table.

I was gazing over a fat soldier's shoulder so I couldn't be sure, but it looked like the seats in question were filled with four gamblers. However, two of them had their hands behind their heads and were looking at each other and shrugging. They looked completely at ease. They might have just won recently.

"Damn it! This is it!" One of the other two men wearing a Shimaron uniform slaps his cards down on the table. "I lost! Do what you want!"

"Even if you say that," says the man who won with an amused tone.

At that moment, a warning siren went off inside of me. I remember this voice. I had definitely heard it a few days ago. And it belonged to someone who I had designated as bad and of needing to be wary of!

"You just have to pay."

"Even if I wanted to, I don't have a single coin left."

"Like I said," the man continued as his old chair scraped across the floor. "What I want isn't money."

At that, the soldiers who lost stood up in a hurry.

"I, I don't know! I've never even paid attention to the squad's structure. Even if I hear an important person's name, I'll forget it immediately, and no one will tell us low rank soldiers what's stored in the warehouse!"

"Low rank? Then did I hear wrong? While you were winning, you said you were an important person in the Shimaron military, though."

"That, sir, that's." The man's voice in the somewhat worn uniform starts to turn wheedling. He pats down his unkempt hair more than necessary. "I just wanted to impress the ladies."

"Which means... you're a soldier less useful than a horse that not only doesn't know what's in the warehouse, but doesn't even have any interest in the squad formation. Ah, that comparison right now was rude to horses. They're silent, hard workers... hey!"

Several of his acquaintances that were apparently scattered around other tables all gathered together at once at his voice. Four... no, five men? They're all men who have sharp gazes and memorable arms. However, their clothes and hairstyles were all varied so it doesn't seem like they're soldiers from somewhere. Maybe they're a motley crew of bandits?

"Take off their clothes and throw them into the river or somewhere. The Shimaron uniforms will be more useful than these small-timers."

"Understood. But, what do we do? Should we go get some new information?"

"If it can be easily found, then I would like that. But Kuliev, after coming away empty-handed for so long, I kind of start thinking that a higher-up might come to play in this town."

"I doubt that that will be the case... but my lord..."

The underling called Kuliev suddenly lowers his voice. I unconsciously raised myself up to try and hear him. The upper half of my body peeks out from the employee's shadow standing in front of me.

Oh no!

It was only for a brief moment, but I met eyes with that man. I recognized his face and he clearly looked at me. We ended up with looks on our faces that said 'So it was the man from before' and 'Oh, the kid from the other day.' It was that creepy man who had won the bet and was about to throw Shimaron soldiers into a river and who had almost caught me after I had taught two villains how to write blackmail.

But his underling had not noticed me. He was steadily talking without paying attention to his master's changing expression.

"If we take too long, I worry for the young lord's safety. What should we do? Should we charge in all or nothing and hope that a general doesn't come?"

"... Hm... yeah..."

The nervous-faced Kuliev rebukes his master who gave him a vague answer.

"You have to consider the forlorn feelings of the young lord who went alone!"

"Well in that regard, you don't need to worry much."

"Again with such careless words! No matter how sturdy he is, the young lord is only twelve!"

"Hmm."

As for me, I was like an animal with its legs trapped in mud and I was strangely not escaping. Since he was called 'my lord,' he was a human with high status like I thought, but his clothes are plain and the only thing that looked like he spent any money on was his sword and this bar he's in is low class. This isn't the sort of gambling establishment an owner of a mansion would play at. I was only thinking of trivial things.

It happened when I was even thinking 'And what is up with that stubble? If he's rich, shouldn't he keep that neat?'

"No, you can't underestimate someone because they're twelve. Because, common kids will frequent gambling halls like this even if they're around twelve."

Prompted by the words of the man called 'my lord,' this time everyone really did turn to look my way.

They all had annoyed looks on their faces, and only the man who spoke had an impish grin.

"Hey, we meet again. Do you remember me? Ah, don't run, don't run! You don't have to be scared. I'm not going to do anything distasteful like call the officials."

"I'm not scared, old man."

"Is that so?" He looked a little hurt, but he immediately gestured for me to come over. "Well whatever, come here. I'm Dunheely Weller. To a kid your age, I guess I look like an old man."

Dunheely. I had never heard that before.

"That's a weird name."

"Is it? What's yours?"

"Josak."

"Hm? Josak from where? What are your parents' names?"

"I don't have parents, but if you're asking my family name, it's Gurrier. The woman who gave birth to me was called that."

"Josak, Gurrier... I see. Then Josak, let's ignore our age difference and play a hand. You didn't come all the way to a place like this just to watch and go home, did you?"

This time not only did the nervous subordinate protest with an exasperated look, but the other subordinates did as well.

"A hand? What are you talking about doing with a child, my lord?"

"You don't know he's a child. If he has mazoku blood, he might look young but be a full-fledged adult."

"Even so, looking like that, he probably doesn't even have small change."

"I have money!"

After yelling out reflexively, I deeply regretted it. I had gotten carried away since I wasn't worried about eating and tried to look cool. At least let me keep quiet about the fact that I only have a few coins.

"It's great that you don't have any financial concerns, but..." Dunheely or whoever rubbed his stubbly chin with rough and gnarled fingers unlike those of a rich man. "I don't bet with money. You've been watching. I'm sure you've noticed."

"Then what? Lives? ... Eh, no way!"

Arriving at an unsavory conclusion, I lost my nerve.

I knew people who earned their living through buying and selling children. I had just nearly become a commodity myself, but there were those in the world with even worse hobbies. Those who liked children more than adult women.

"N-no way, old man!"

"No no no, don't misunderstand!" He might have guessed what I was thinking from the color of my face because the man denied it in a slight panic. He shook his head, upset. "Don't lump me in with those disgusting guys. What I want is your clothes."

"My clothes?"

"That's right."

I pinch my flashy, borrowed clothes with my fingers. Was he collecting women's clothes? Dunheely Weller leaned back in his rickety chair with his arms crossed.

"That's a woman's jacket, isn't it? It's hard to make an outfit work with that." He's smirking. What a creepy bastard. "But it looks good on you. That being said, unfortunately what I want isn't the top but the bottom."

"The bottom...?"

I instantly knew what he was talking about and immediately hug my knees. The top is borrowed, but my bottoms are the same ones from the village. I was wearing bottoms that got wet, dried, and were near falling apart. There's no way he wants such shabby clothing. Which means...

"Hey hey hey, you just denied it, but that really is what you're after!?"

"I said no. You don't have to worry. I'll give you a replacement so hand over those shabby clothes without worrying about it."

"My lord," the nervous subordinate said after clearing his throat. "If you require that child's clothing, you don't need to go through the trouble of playing a hand with him. If we give him some money in exchange, he will gladly hand them over."

"Really?" Dunheely gathered the cards on the table and started cutting the deck. "The way I see it, this amateur gambler doesn't look like he'll hand over anything without competing."

I am just like I look. I hadn't intended to hand something over for small change like some reasonable kid from the neighborhood. Of course, at the time, I couldn't even read the letters or the pictures that showed the number on the cards much less know how to use them, but since I was in a gambling hall and I could make a bet without my life on the line, it would have been a waste if I didn't take him up on his offer. This was an excellent chance to gain some gambling experience.

Well, now that I think back on that, if I hadn't taken him up on his offer, I might have gotten away without learning what it meant to gamble. I might have worked on my savings even as an adult and by now I would not just have one run down shop, but I might have been able to buy an old castle at least. I receive a lot of hazard pay, after all.

Anyway, you can say that my long history of playing around started with my back and forth with Dunheely Weller.

What a sinful man.

---

Speaking of sinful, what I did to His Majesty was pretty bad.

After all, from the first time I had met him, I had lied about my status and acted as if to question his talent as a king. Not only that, the very first time I was completely naked. Completely naked. If you have confidence in your body, you should refrain all the more from doing things that trigger the other person's inferiority complexes.

Despite that, the Young Master faces his bad subordinate and says nothing but kind words.

"Josak was a valuable comrade..."

There are no subjects who wouldn't be happy to be referred to as a 'comrade' by their master. Of course, I was the same. But, I had absolutely no idea just what part of me he was referring to that made him empathize with me.

I mean, that's the thing, Young Master. Our positions are too different. I'm not lamenting that fact, but there's nothing in common between us.

Even though His Majesty is kneeling at my side and holding my hand, I unfortunately can't feel that sensation.

That's because something like my soul had disconnected from my body and was floating around the ceiling.

From here, I can see everything in the room without obstruction. Everything from His Excellency Gwendal letting me use his lap as a pillow and the Young Master... His Majesty Yuuri hanging his head next to him.

Your Majesty, there's no need to be so despondent over me. If you make a face like that, you're going to make my chest hurt. Ah, well, right now I don't have any feelings of pain or discomfort, though.

But, if you would, please don't talk about me like you're remembering things from when I was alive. The truth is that even I haven't realized that I've died.

"Rather than a comrade, a friend. In a way, the only one who really understood me might have been Gurrier-chan."

Floating in the air, I saw that Lord von Bielefeld, who had just entered the room, was shaken by His Majesty's words.

His Excellency Gwendal just quirked his eyebrow, but His Excellency the Third Son, Lord von Bielefeld Wolfram, quickened his pace with a clearly dissatisfied expression and stepped up to His Majesty who was regarded as his fiance. His temples are twitching.

He probably hadn't heard those footsteps because His Majesty continues talking in a low voice.

"'In a way' isn't quite right. 'In one respect'?"

"What do you mean?"

His Majesty just keeps on blathering on because he's honestly answering His Excellency the Cat Lover. Even though his fiance's anger is closing in behind him.

"Hm, well, you know, how should I say it? ... I do think everyone is treating me well in their own way. Conrad and Wolf and Günter and of course, you as well, Gwen, are all staying by this amateur's side without getting fed up and even though I lack knowledge and experience, I'm thankful that you treat me properly as a king."

"Then what is it? Say what you're unsatisfied with."

"But you know, it's kinda, everyone... you know? You all have a part of you that thinks I'm 'a special person!' right? So Gurrier-chan was the only one. The only one who didn't treat me like a 'virtuous person.'"

"'Virtuous person?' What's that? A ma-... a person's name?" asked His Excellency Wolfram, butting into the conversation as he leaned down next to His Majesty's side. His green eyes that he inherited from his mother are hidden by his blonde eyelashes. As I looked down on his honey-colored hair, I tilted my non-existent head to the side as if to say 'oh?' I felt like there was something strange about what he just said.

"No, it's not a person's name. A 'virtuous person' is... um, someone who is extremely admirable, virtuous, and is a perfect person with grace, I guess."

"What do you mean? Everyone knows that you're full of faults - not just me."

"That's not what I mean!"

Young Mistress Greta, sleeping on a sofa a little ways away, moaned cutely 'mmm' and turned over in her sleep. His Majesty and His Excellency Wolfram immediately lower their voices and duck their heads down.

"... Gurrier-chan was the friend I would go out at night to play with."

This time, with my head on his lap, Gwendal quite openly frowned.

"When he came home between missions, he would always invite me out to enjoy some nightlife. But I, you know, I wake up early so I usually turned him down. But one time, even though I was saying I was fine, he half dragged me out."

"Nightlife..."

His Excellency the Spoiled Third Son's temple twitched again, but he didn't yell at His Majesty like usual. This is probably what I felt was strange about him before. Maybe because Gurrier Josak was lying here on the verge of death, he was holding back from grilling His Majesty here.

If so, he's matured a lot.

"I was surprised then. Just when I thought I was surrounded by a bunch of pretty women when I entered the shop, they were all men, not women, you know? Honestly, it's troubling having this lack of experience because I've never been popular. Even if my face gets smashed into their chests, I can't tell if they're real or fake."

"Face in their chests... Yuuri, what kind of shameless-"

"I didn't ask for it! They did it as a service."

"Do you not know how to refuse?"

"I did refuse! ... The second time. I found out they were men and I firmly refused."

Uh, Your Majesty, that's not you being modest; it just means that you have no interest in men's breasts, right?

That's some cruel breast prejudice.

"But what surprised me even more was when Gurrier-chan came back to the table after disappearing right after bringing me to the shop. Hey there, Miss Newcomer with the one strap slipped off your shoulder, I feel like we've met before... While I was thinking that, I realized, that's Gurrier-chan! It's Josak! He'd gone into the back and changed into women's clothes and had mixed in with the other people in the shop wearing a stage costume. When I asked about it, he told me he works there part-time when he's free."

Maybe he remembered the shock from then because His Majesty uses his free hand to cover his eyes. His mouth is turned up in a pleasant smile.

"He so good at it that I wondered if that was his main job. It's amazing. Maybe it was because only people with the same hobby come there, but he plastered it on and packed it tight. Ah, when I say packed, I mean his chest and butt. Normal women's clothes wouldn't hold a candle to it. He was completely in 'shop MODE.' Because of that, I thought that maybe he wasn't getting paid enough so I said that I would ask Gwen about it, but he said that wasn't the case. He said he was doing it as a hobby because it was a shop that belonged to a friend of his so he wasn't being paid."

That's right, I receive enough pay. Despite how he looks, His Excellency Gwendal is very friendly and even pays attention to the soldiers' welfare programs. He even remembers their children's birthdays and knows things like beach houses that can be rented out for cheap. The single people don't really notice this, however.

So the night work is my hobby, no, I was doing it to brush up on my disguise skills for infiltration work.

"Even though I was refusing because I don't play around at night... He gave me a good laugh."

His Majesty's fingers with calluses in odd places cover his eyes and are grasping at his forehead and cheek. His middle finger near the corner of his right eye was trembling.

"I mean, it was so perfect! He was in a gorgeous, bare-shouldered dress slit all the way up to his waist with those muscles and that voice, you know? For some reason, it suited him perfectly. It suited him, but it was funny. He made me laugh... a lot..."

"Yuuri?"

"And then Gurrier-chan, he said, 'Young Master, you're a healthy young boy in his teens so you have to at least go out and play at night. You get called a king, but if you don't flirt with cute girls while you're young, you'll turn into an adult full of frustration. If you just worry about difficult things like work and politics, the wrinkles between your eyebrows won't go away like a certain someone.' Ah, sorry Gwendal."

His Excellency the Cat Lover had unconsciously pressed the spot between his eyebrows. You don't have to worry about them so much. Those wrinkles are part of Your Excellency's charm.

"He said, 'If you won't let loose, then I'll turn you into a bad adult.' What's a bad adult? A man who realized he loved wearing women's clothes? I couldn't stop laughing."

That's right, I did say that. That's because the people in the castle treated him too specially. I know that His Majesty is a special person. Even a low-ranking soldier like me knows that well. While it's true that treating him like a precious jewel will make him even more beautiful, it's different than shaping him into the ideal figure. I don't know about pure-blooded mazoku or even nobles, but for citizens... especially humans, a sixteen year old boy should be dying to get it on with girls. In some cases, it might be with the same gender, but if they're unlucky, there are tons of guys who are 'prepared for battle' all night long. They're using half of their brain for stuff like that.

Of course, His Majesty was raised well so he's not that obvious, but if I were in his place, I would not want to be boxed in. I would feel stifled being told about troubling things every day and being forced to meet adults with overly serious faces.

So I wanted to let him take a breather when I'm around at the very least. There was someone else taking care of his exercise, so I wanted to take care of his wild side.

I'm sorry that I'm not a cute girl.

However, right now His Majesty isn't laughing at our odd appearances. His voice is trembling forlornly.

"Yuuri."

His Excellency Wolfram gently places a hand on His Majesty's neck. While I watch that, I wondered why I wasn't the one calling out that person's name, and if I couldn't, then why wasn't it 'that person' who's not here?

I wondered that so much it hurt.

---

I lost. I lost just like that.

The outcome was decided in about the time it takes a brat to blow his nose.

It was decided from the beginning, but it was still frustrating to lose for the first time. Even if I was to use this loss as a lesson for next time, I couldn't even identify what went wrong. Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

"You were worse than I thought."

Dunheely Weller was fiddling with the last card as he gazed at the loser who was biting his lip. Right now, I could only think about the clothes that were going to be taken away from me.

They were by no means valuable, but for me they were my only ones. If these are taken away, I'll have no choice but to go outside while in an embarrassing state. That's right. With my bottom half completely exposed. A completely exposed bottom at twelve years old!

I snuck a glance up at him, wondering if he might change his mind. Maybe he would let me get away after telling me that I shouldn't come to gambling places and that I learned my lesson with this or maybe that he would let me get away with just giving him my change instead of my clothes. I continued to wait thinking that he might show me his open-mindedness.

However, Dunheely's followers surrounded me and didn't give off even the slightest hint that they would let me go. It was also strange that all of those onlookers have disappeared.

In other words, that meant that they were serious.

"What's wrong? You're making a face like a squirrel without cheek pouches."

"... Um, Dunheely, sir."

"You don't have to address the man who's about to strip you down as sir," Dunheely Weller said with a laugh. "Now, take them off. Ah, you don't have to worry. I'll give you clothes to change into. No matter how heartless of a man I am, I'm not someone that would throw a twelve year old out into the street with their bottom half completely exposed. Hey, Toth, lend him yours."

"Eh!?"

The bearded man with the largest build present covers his crotch. He's unintentionally turned his feet inward. However, the order might have been an absolute one because the man reluctantly takes off his pants and throws them at me.

"Wai-, wait, old man! Dunheely! There's no way I'll fit into that huge guy's clothes! Ugh, gya! And they're warm! Gross. I can't walk outside in these!"

"It's your fault for losing."

I had no one else to turn to.

Having no choice, I hurriedly take off my clothes and push my legs into the wrong-size pants. The quality of the cloth and construction couldn't even compare to the shabby clothes I've worn so far. This might have been a good exchange.

The unfortunate one is the bearded man. He can't borrow anything from his fellows and he's standing around fidgeting in his underwear. Both of his legs are covered in hair so if you're looking at him from afar, you might not notice that his legs are bare. I thought that was pretty convenient, but Kuliev frowned with his thin eyebrows and handed the man the cloth draped over the table. It was an action that showed the depth of their solidarity with each other.

As he sat in his chair, Dunheely was scrutinizing and turning over the clothes I had shed and then he started rubbing and checking the feel of every inch. Although if he hit them, the only thing that would come out would be dry dust and the only thing that would fall from them would be mouse droppings.

"... It's here."

Contrary to my prediction, he found what he was looking for. He stuck his finger in the hole for the drawstring and pulled out a long, thin, folded up scrap of paper. He's smiling contentedly like a hunter that captured his prey. He's a man that can't hide his joy despite being an adult. But just when did that paper get in there? Was there writing sewn into all the clothes supplied to the village? There's no way that's the case. Or rather, there's no reason to go through all that trouble.

"What is?"

"Your favorite person's first job."

"The young lord's!?"

Dunheely handed the scrap of paper to Kuliev as he tried to peer over his shoulder. His subordinate's face promptly lights up.

"The number of guards, their intervals, the large... size, the amount of people held captive. Amazing! He investigated in more detail than I thought he would."

I remember the answers to all of those questions. And of course, it's all information that I was cornered into being doggedly asked. Which means that scrap of paper wasn't sewn into my clothes since the beginning, but was secretly slipped in by someone when I didn't notice, most likely when I was sleeping.

As for who that someone was, there was only him.

Dunheely was gazing intently at my face. He draws his face closer.

"Which means that this kid... Josak really did drift down from the village upstream. The words of villains can sometimes be believed."

His eyes were a strange combination of colors. There was another color flecked amongst the brown. Silver... yeah, silver stars. I know someone else who has eyes like these. That person's hair was a much lighter brown close to blonde and their expression lacked a little of the wildness of this man and left a slightly soft impression. There is no doubt that they are related by blood.

Conrad.

I tried whispering his name. With a sound so small it couldn't be called a voice, so no one else could hear. Something bitter rolled across my tongue that had uttered that name. The sadness of being betrayed and my own folly of easily trusting someone became a grey haze that dripped down into my chest.

But the man who had the same eyes as him steps away from his chair, leans down, and places his hands on my shoulders.

"Josak Gurrier, you did well to make it this far intact. I thank you."

His companions came to their own conclusions on what had happened somehow and start patting and poking at my head. It's likely their version of a welcoming greeting. From my perspective, I had no idea what they were so happy about.

Kuliev, who had been examining the writing, suddenly raises his voice. No matter what was going on around him, he seems to be the only one who has eyes only for this young lord.

"My lord, the only direction that can't be attacked is a cliff and it's written that it is incredibly high. However, the water level is high all year round and if you fall-"

"I know what happens."

The hands poking me stop.

"Because I experienced it myself."

Dunheely had a look on his face as if to say 'You don't mean...' and the bearded man had a look that said 'I thought so.'

"I got pushed off that cliff by that young lord or whatever of yours."

"Pushed... y-young..."

And Kuliev stood motionless at a loss for words. There are doting, overprotective, busybody parents in every generation.

---

Following my confession, the atmosphere surrounding the Dunheely party turned sad. Luckily, everyone in the gambling room had left, so they were huddled around the round table having a fake family meeting.

"And I thought sending Conrad in to infiltrate was a good plan."

"It was a good plan, but to think that he would push a friend off a cliff! It's like he mistook a child for a cat or something."

"Isn't the problem that he doesn't have any friends his own age, like we thought?"

"It's because the lord has been doing nothing but dragging him along on arduous journeys ever since he was little. To the desert and to snowy mountains and to the valley of hell."

"But he's grown up strong, right?"

"If he's pushing a friend off of a cliff, he's gone right past strong to being a violent person..."

"Maybe he was just trying out the lion's way of raising their young."

"That's just a legend. Real animals are friendly and loving."

The information I'd heard was as such:

Dunheely and his group want to know the structure and defense of the 'village.' However, they couldn't gather much information searching around outside because there were too many soldiers who had no interest. So, they used the youngest in their group, Conrad, and sent him into the village as a child born between a mazoku and a human.

I see. So now I understand why he came to the village alone without even a mother and why he said that he hadn't been abandoned.

Conrad, who had safely infiltrated the site, targeted me and had persistently asked me questions. And then, he had experienced life at that site firsthand, written down the fine details, and snuck them into my clothes. It was to send the information to his companions waiting downstream. And then he pushed me, the 'messenger,' off the cliff...

"Well, it's a shame that you were pushed off, but..." I had tried to disappear amongst the commotion, but the sharp-eyed Dunheely spotted me. "Thanks to Josak, we know he's alright. We have to thank you somehow. Look, Kuliev, it wasn't anything to worry about after all."

"That might not be true."

I started to feel a little bit of despair and I threw myself into a chair by the entrance. It was a wooden chair you could find anywhere, but it felt like the most comfortable one I had ever sat in. I might just be tired. Or maybe, the tension I had been holding for a long time was released and my body and soul felt lighter.

I leaned against the back of the chair and it creaked lightly.

"When I escaped the village, we were being chased for finding out a secret. Right before we got caught, he pushed me off. Right now, he might be captured by the guards and something terrible is happening to him."

"I see." Kuliev and a few others' faces paled, but the blood relative, Dunheely, was calm. He was rubbing his chin with his index finger and was nodding over and over again. Finally, he seems to reach a conclusion. "So that means Conrad tried to save you."

"Save?"

Save me? There's no way.

He pushed me off. Probably to have me deliver that paper. Even though I said that I couldn't swim, that I've never even been near water, he pushed me off without jumping in himself.

If he wanted to tell them what he had investigated, he could have jumped off himself. Things would have gone much smoother that way. He wouldn't have wasted time getting the information where it needed to be. Conrad, because you didn't go then, now ten days have been wasted for nothing.

"My lord, we must hurry and save the young lord."

"Hey, calm down. Investigating the structure of the stationed soldiers and what kinds of medicines they have in storage comes first. What are we going to do if our comrades start collapsing one after the other after we set out on a long journey without preparing? Even if the village's secrets were found out, he's just a single child that just came in. They can just shove him in a storehouse somewhere until everything is settled. They probably won't go through the trouble of killing him."

"Here you go again with careless words! If what this child says is correct, almost ten days have passed already. Even if he's just locked up, he'll weaken as the days pass."

Looking over the scrap of paper that was handed back to him, Dunheely Weller says while crumpling it up, "Yeah, well a normal child might weaken."

And then he moves back to his seat once again and flops himself down. His long sword makes a heavy sound.

I tried looking over several times, but his elbows are blocking his face on both sides and I can't see his strange colored eyes.

... There's no way he saved me.

He was sent alone to the village and he didn't have parents or grandparents with him. He couldn't find someone on his own to look after him so I took care of him after Lidona asked. I taught him how to live in the village and I taught him how to cultivate a farm. How to keep the evening dew out, how to breathe on windy days - I taught him everything. His arms and legs were sturdier than mine because his food situation until then had been good. Compared to the villagers who haven't been eating well, he was probably stronger. But if I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been able to survive in the village.

And he tried to save me?

Damn it, Conrad. You went and did something arrogant.

"My lord!"

"Don't make me repeat myself!"

This is the first time I heard him raise his voice. I had assumed that he was a gentle person because he didn't domineer over his subordinates, but it seems that wasn't the case.

"First we have to investigate their combat strength and what they have in storage. We can't make a move until we determine that. Even I don't want my son..."

Saying that much, Dunheely covered his eyes and slowly shook his head a few times. His long hair brushes against his collar.

'I don't want to cause my son pain.' That's what it sounded like.

"... Anyway, I want concrete information. If we can't get it from the soldiers hanging around, we'll send someone in. Someone... It would be nice if one of us was suited for that, but if not, we'll find someone who won't betray us if we pile on money. Someone hard to be suspicious of. Yeah, a trustworthy woman if possible."

Four of his subordinates nod silently. Only Kuliev narrowed his eyes in worry and accepted the plan slower than the others. There was a sense of solidarity there that I had never experienced in my entire life.

But I took more time than I needed to say the short phrase I said next. I was afraid to break the tension between them with the words of some brat.

But I had to say it. Even if it was because of something an arrogant newcomer did, I had to repay the debt and save my companions and friends. That's what a happy life is.

"I'll do it."

Dunheely looked right at me. There wasn't any denial or doubt in those peculiar eyes.

---

Author's note

"You're going to infiltrate it, right? Let me do it. I'll get the information."

How are you? This is Takabayashi... Actually, this isn't the place to be asking how you are anymore. No, this time it isn't a problem of timing. That's not it, that's not it... I-I haven't finished my quadruple jump dogeza Not only have I not finished that, I feel like the offense is getting bigger. I'll do a Triple Salchow Jump Apology. While I was was writing the last part, I was thinking to myself, "... That's weird. It was supposed to be a little bit of a bar and a little bit of fun" while cocking my head to the side. Biellmann Spin Sincere Apology. Not to mention the fact that I'm sure those who have read this have noticed that 'he' did not appear at all in the text. Ina Bauer Apology! H-how is it? I tried an olympic version of apologizing in commemoration of the Winter Olympic Games. Well, to put it bluntly (don't make it blunt!), the person who didn't appear was the second son. Instead, I can say that 'that person' appeared. 'That person!' Only his name came up in the main story, but he did have a role in the MAnime once (and apparently the entirety of America cried). That person... yeah, that unshaven, rosy person (wrong). Actually, he peeked his head in last time, but this was the first time I've had him have a proper conversation, so I'm worried if he matches your image of him. How was Papa(!)? Did he turn out as someone Lady Cherie would fall for? And again I ended up continuing Gurrier-chan's back story, but... I noticed something since I finished the previous book. Normally I type without making any noise, but at some point, I started typing while blasting the music and swaying my huge body to the rhythm. Well in actuality I'm just randomly playing several CDs and MDs, but for some strange reason, when I'm typing Gurrier-chan's scenes, Pachelbel's Canon seems to come on a lot... I kind of end up in a sad mood. Is this some kind of curse? Well regardless of whether it's a curse or divine punishment, before deciding my course of action (... course of action?) in the main story, I Moonsault Apologize for writing so much about little Josa in a side story. Huh? That's not a winter move? That being said, Gurrier-chan was Gurrier-chan ever since he was a kid, huh? And if you've enjoyed this happy episode where the king of nightlife in Shin Makoku is definitely Josak, that would make me happy as a self-proclaimed, spin-off author. Huh, self-proclaimed!? SEE YOU NEXT

Back to Part 1

Return to MA Series

Forward to Part 3