The three idiots who couldn't become heroes are preparing a man's meal today as well. - Chapter 24

Episode 24: Unfamiliar Work

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In the courtyard of a certain inn—

This inn, often used by Walkers, rarely saw its courtyard in use. The only times it was occupied were for training or when someone was mixing particularly pungent medicinal herbs.

At least, that was how it had been until recently.

“Hmm, hmm, hmmm~”

A man hummed in a good mood as he cooked a meal in the courtyard.

By now, there wasn’t a single person staying at the inn who didn’t know him.

The leader of Hearty Eater.

A delicious aroma filled the air around him, but no one dared approach—because they knew exactly what he and his party ate.

Yet, despite that, the scent alone was enough to make not just the inn’s guests but even passersby on the street hungry.

The result? A flood of people flocking to the dining hall.

Perhaps that was why the innkeeper never kicked Hearty Eater out, despite their rather unconventional eating habits. Rumor had it the inn’s business had been thriving as a result, with more profit coming from the dining hall than from lodging.

Still, today seemed different. The amount of food being prepared was excessive—almost as if they were about to host a grand feast.

Just how many people was he cooking for?

The Walkers watching from their windows couldn’t help but stare in disbelief.

Then—

“Kitayama-san! We’re here!”

A booming voice rang out as a massive man and a small slave entered the courtyard, accompanied by a woman cheerfully waving her hand.

The moment her voice reached their ears, the Walkers all leaned further out of their windows in shock.

Impossible.

There was no way this could be happening.

“Ohh, Airi! Most of it’s ready already. Azuma, Minami, thanks for handling the report.”

The Hearty Eater leader casually greeted the woman—a guild receptionist—with startling familiarity.

What’s more, this was Airi—the receptionist infamous for never accepting invitations, no matter who asked.

And yet here she was, casually mingling with Hearty Eater.

Had she actually joined their party?

If so… was she eating that meat too?

The murmurs grew louder, no longer even trying to be discreet. But the Hearty Eater members paid no attention, chatting amongst themselves as usual.

Then—

“Kou-chan! I brought Thoor and the others!”

“Finally back, are you? Honestly, you had me worried—you took so long I thought you were planning to skip out on your bill.”

The shortest member of Hearty Eater had returned, bringing with him four Dwarves—famous for being incredibly picky about their clientele.

At this point, nothing made sense anymore.

The Walkers, their mouths hanging open, simply stared at Hearty Eater in utter confusion.

Yet not a single one dared to approach them.

“Alright then—time to dig in!”

“””””Thanks for the meal!”””””

With that, their feast began.

They devoured their meat with gusto, gulped down alcohol, and enjoyed a spread of soups, pasta, rice, and stuffed bread.

If only it wasn’t monster meat…

That single thought lingered in the minds of the onlookers, as they watched the feast unfold, drooling despite themselves.

…..

…..

“Hmm. Your level remains at 38 since the last Goblin extermination. No changes to your titles or race, and no abnormalities in your status.”

The guild branch chief furrowed his brows as he examined our status cards.

By the way, after the assessment, the others immediately left for shopping, leaving me alone to deal with this.

So unfair.

Despite everything, my level remained at 38.

On the other hand, Minami had leveled up to 20.

Though she only participated as support in battle, it seemed to be contributing to her growth.

Speaking of which, we still hadn’t checked her magic aptitude. I kept forgetting about it—too much on my plate, literally and figuratively.

Or rather, we just had too many expenses to spare any funds for it.

“In any case, good work. Here’s the payment for the monster materials and magic stones from this time, as well as the additional reward from the previous Goblin extermination. The compensation for today’s assessment will be prepared by your next visit.”

The branch chief handed me a pouch. Inside were five gold coins, a single whiteish coin, and a handful of smaller change.

For a moment, I thought the white coin was silver—but the appearance was different.

Wait, could this be…?

“Platinum coins? These… wait, isn’t this a bit too much?”

Converted to Japanese yen, that would be over 1.5 million in just two weeks. (9.796,01 USD)

What the hell? Since when did we start making this kind of money?

Honestly, it’s kind of scary.

“The main portion comes from the goblin extermination, the rescue reward, and the payment for last time’s examination. But the biggest chunk is the additional reward. It’s a token of gratitude for rescuing them without any major injuries or illnesses… or at least, that’s the official reason. More likely, they want to maintain ties with Hearty Eater. This is their way of saying, ‘If you take jobs from us, we’ll pay this much.’ A statement of intent, so to speak.”

“Ugh… that makes it kind of hard to accept.”

“Just take it. Returning it would be a hassle for them.”

With that, I was practically forced to accept the reward.

They’re not trying to do that subtle hint, hint thing, like, ‘We paid you this much last time, so you’ll accept next time too, right?’

…Right?

That would be a huge pain in the ass. I still don’t really get how to deal with nobles.

“More importantly, didn’t you say you were getting new equipment? It doesn’t seem like much has changed.”

Clearly done with the topic of rewards, the Guild Master smoothly shifted the conversation.

Damn it, guess I have no choice but to accept.

Well, I won’t complain about having more money. Someday, I do want to return those three platinum coins and the magic bag to the princess.

“It’s not ready yet. Apparently, it’s a masterpiece, so they told me to prepare a hefty payment. So for now, I’m borrowing some temporary gear.”

“I see. As a former Walker myself, I can’t help but be interested in such things.”

“Is that so,” I replied absentmindedly, deciding to change the subject myself this time.

“Speaking of which, what’s Airi going to do? Is she rejoining the party, or will she be working reception again next week? Depending on that, I’ll decide where we’re headed.”

“If I don’t let her out next week, she might just tear up the guild… So I’ll leave her in your care. That said, do you have any place in mind?”

Looks like Airi will be with us next week.

That means I need to figure something out.

Maybe we should go over everyone’s levels and hold a team meeting?

“Well, it’s not set in stone, but… Lately, we haven’t been gaining much experience in the usual spot. I was thinking about checking out another forest.”

“Another forest, huh… No, never mind. However, I’d advise against it next week.”

“Huh? Why?”

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. He wasn’t about to dump another troublesome task on us, was he?

Seeing my glare, the Guild Master let out a wry smile and leaned back in his chair.

“It’s the rainy season.”

“…You’re kidding me.”

That’s a huge problem.

Though, maybe we should get used to camping in the rain?

We’d just have to be extra prepared, or we’d definitely suffer for it.

“No need to look so grim. The rainy season here is short. The weather in this region shifts quickly. You’ve had nothing but sunny days since becoming Walkers, right? This is just the opposite. That said, this year’s rainy season is relatively short. It should be over in about half a month—if the predictions are correct.”

I wanted to retort with “What kind of logic is that?” but stopped myself.

Still, it’s a relief that it won’t last a whole month like in Japan.

In that case, maybe we should take next week off, gauge how bad the rain is, and then plan a camping trip for the week after?

That seems smarter than diving into the wild in the middle of a storm.

As I was running through my plans, the Guild Master handed me a piece of paper.

“You guys aren’t the type to sit around in an inn all week, are you? How about taking on a request that can be done in town?”

I’ve got a really bad feeling about this…

But doing nothing for a whole week—and making no money—would be rough.

Reluctantly, I took the paper and read through it.

I took the request form and checked the details.

Request Details

• Request:
  Please help my husband move forward again.

• Details:
  My husband used to serve as a knight, but after losing an arm, he resigned from his post and has since drowned himself in alcohol every day.
  
  I do not ask for him to return to how he was before.
  
  I only wish for him to regain enough confidence to move forward in life, even just a little.
  
  Before becoming a knight, he was a Walker. I thought that by interacting with the Walkers, he might find something within himself again, and so I have made this request.

• Success Conditions:
  My husband regains the will to live positively again.
  
  Specifically, he must either start looking for work or return to a normal daily routine.
  
  I apologize for the vague conditions.

• Reward:
  3 gold coins.
  
  Depending on the results, the reward may be increased to a maximum of 5 gold coins.

“…Pass.”

“Please, reconsider.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s 3 gold coins.”

“If they can afford to pay up to 5, then this family clearly isn’t struggling for money.”

Seriously, what does “help him move forward” even mean? That’s way too vague.

If the husband and wife are in on it together, they could just make sure the request fails and avoid paying altogether.

And come on, the guy climbed his way up from being a Walker to a knight, lost an arm, lost his job, and now drowns himself in alcohol?

That sounds like one hell of a headache.

We’re Walkers who enjoy camping out in the wild, not counselors.

They should be asking a doctor for this, not us.

“I understand what you’re thinking, but the problem is the person involved.”

“What, is it another noble? Then I’m definitely out.”

“No, he’s a commoner. And that’s exactly why he’s a figure of interest.”

What’s with the roundabout way of saying things? Just get to the point already.

I didn’t even try to hide my irritation as I tapped my fingers against the desk. Seeing that, the Guildmaster hurriedly continued.

“He was practically a pauper. But despite that, he rose up through sheer skill in both magic and the sword—he was a symbol of hope for the common folk.”

“Good for him. Let the whole city cheer him up, then. Has nothing to do with me.”

“Wait. The thing is, he has a strong aptitude for fire magic, and his swordsmanship is exceptional. If he can pull himself together and return to being a Walker, it would be a huge benefit to the guild.”

“And? What’s that got to do with me?”

“I know, I know! Just hear me out! We’ve already sent several Walkers to try helping him, but every single one of them failed. They all said he’s like an empty shell. That’s why we want to try something different—by asking you.”

Wow. Saying we’re “different” straight to our faces—how rude can you get?

Also, if so many others have already failed, why are they dumping this mess on us now?

I can already see this ending badly.

“So what, this is just another experiment? What do you think we can even do? It’s not like this is a hunt. We deal with beasts, not people’s life crises. It’s not like we’ve lived such noble lives that we can give anyone advice.”

“And that’s exactly why.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“From my perspective, you and your party are full of life. If anyone could inspire him, it’s you.”

“That’s just a fantasy. This isn’t some shounen manga.”

The truth is, we don’t really understand the struggles of people who live “on this side” of things.

We spend our time deep in the wilderness. We don’t know the first thing about helping someone who’s lost hope or what it takes to start over.

There’s no way we could truly understand the feelings of someone who worked so hard to become a knight, only to lose it all.

“Hypothetically, what if one of your party members lost an arm and wanted to leave ‘Hearty Eater’? What would you do?”

“I’d find them a job they could still do with one arm. And if they really wanted to quit, I’d help them find something else.”

“And that’s exactly why I want you to take this request.”

“You bastard…”

We come from “the other side.”

And the people who’ve always lived “on this side” have a completely different perspective from us.

Of course, the Guildmaster wouldn’t take that into account—he doesn’t know.

But even so, he’s overestimating us way too much.

The truth is, we never had anyone else to rely on.

That’s why we see our party as a shared fate, why we can so easily open up to each other.

Because we share “everything,” we can speak without hesitation.

But the people “on this side” are different.

Our way of thinking won’t always apply to them, and no matter how well we try to phrase things, our words will always seem “shallow” in the end.

“Just consider taking it on during the rainy season. I’m not saying you have to succeed, and if there’s another request you’d rather take, feel free to prioritize that instead. Even so… would you still refuse? Right now, ‘he’ is in such a state that even those around him can see how much he’s suffering. Anything will do—just talk to him.”

The Guildmaster was unusually persistent, even bowing his head as he pleaded with us.

What does he expect from us?

“Why go this far? What reason do you have to bow your head like this?”

Still in a sour mood, I threw the question at him.

He responded with a weary smile, something unlike his usual self, and quietly spoke.

“A long time ago, we were in the same party. He was incredibly skilled, far beyond my reach. But now, he’s fallen so low that even my words can’t reach him anymore. Leaving him like this is unbearable… This is my selfish request.”

The Guildmaster kept it brief, giving only the essential details.

Ah, damn it.

So that’s why he brought up my own party earlier.

Shit, I shouldn’t have listened to this.

“I’m not making any promises. I’ll talk it over with the others before deciding whether we’ll take it or not. But if we succeed… you better pay up.”

“What do you want?”

“Money. Right now, that’s all we really need. So you’d better make the same request to your former party members. And when we complete it, I expect 10 gold coins.”

“…I appreciate it.”

“Shut up! Just get the money ready!”

Barking that out, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the Guildmaster’s office.

What a damn fool. A Guildmaster, looking that pathetic.

And I’m no better.

If I were in his shoes, if one of my own had fallen like that, I’d probably act the same way.

That thought alone was enough to make me sympathize.

Didn’t I just tell myself that we could never fully understand the struggles of people on “this side”?

And yet…

“Ah, shit. How the hell am I gonna explain this…”

Under the cloud-covered sky, I grumbled curses to myself as I walked back.