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Isekai Light Novel: Chapter 8 – Do I Need to Pay for That?
🕑 Added 2024-10-24 06:02:37 +0000 UTCLooking back on it, James could see that Enrica must have been pretty desperate because she barely put up any protest.
“No, you’re a guest. I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said.
“I really don’t mind helping out. I might need people to show me where things are, but I can wash dishes.”
“Okay!” said Enrica, dispelling even the façade of turning him down. “You’ve convinced me.”
He’d expected it to last just the one evening, but their usual person had apparently gone missing. James expected that they’d call the police or the city guard or whoever was in charge of missing people in this city. Instead, they all came off as almost callously unconcerned about the disappearance. At least, that’s how it seemed until one of the girls, Lysnia, explained.
“People just disappear all the time. They get hired to guard a caravan or find somewhere that pays better or just pick up and move on one night. We usually find out what happened in a few months when they turn up again begging for their old job back.”
It still struck him as a little cold. However, he supposed that you’d stop investing emotionally in people if you just expected them to not show up one day and it kept actually happening. He’d been that way at college. He met plenty of people who just gave off the vibe that they weren’t going to stick it out. He’d been friendly to them, but he hadn’t made friends with them. After all, if they quit, they’d go back home to wherever home was, and he’d probably never see them again. He could have tried to make an effort to keep in touch on social media. However, that was a lot of effort for an uncertain benefit, and he’d chosen not to do it.
After that first night, Enrica made him a deal. If he helped out with dishes and in the kitchen, he could have his room and food for free. Plus, she’d give him some money to make up the difference. James was sure that one of them was getting the short end of the stick. He just wasn’t sure if it was him or her. Still, it solved a few of his immediate problems, and it wasn’t like the work was horrible. That wasn’t to say that it was entirely without annoyances. Case in point. Yet another blue box had popped up in front of his face. Skill Upgrade: Scru— Swipe. Another box burst into view. Skill Upgrade: Spla—Swipe.
That first night, he’d gotten a box that he actually read, mostly because his hands were sunk into a tub of hot water. Skill acquired: Scrub Maestro, Level 1. He’d just stared at it for most of five seconds as he tried to figure out what the hell kind of screwed up process gave people a skill like Scrub Maestro. He’d eventually pulled a hand out of the water and swiped the box away, only to hit himself in the face the soapy water. And a new box appeared. Skill acquired: Splash Master, Level 1. That was the moment when he’d become certain that whoever or whatever was in charge of the notifications was being pissy with him for ignoring said notifications. It only got worse as the days passed and his new “skills” leveled up. It was box after box after box.
I wish there was a way to auto-ignore these messages, he fumed. At which point, a box popped up and said: Pop-Up Messages Disabled. It wasn’t precisely a fix. There was still a faint blue glow in the corner of his vision to perpetually remind him that he was ignoring things. Still, it was probably as good as things were going to get. The only upside to his new skills was that now he basically just needed to touch a dirty dish in soapy water and it became instantly clean. What I wouldn’t have given to have that ability while growing up, he thought. His parents believed that chores were an excellent way to build character, so there was no dishwasher in their home. There were sponges and children for that.
It was only when all the kids had reached high school age that a dishwasher was suddenly installed. James had asked his father about it, only to discover that his parents disliked washing dishes by hand as much the kids did. He’d been so flabbergasted by the revelation that it didn’t occur to him until later to be aggravated by the whole thing. Discipline and character building were all well and good, but making literally everyone in the house do something they hated seemed like an exercise in both sadism and masochism. Those thoughts sent a wave of homesickness through him, and he felt tears start to gather at the corner of his eyes.
He missed his parents. He missed his siblings. He missed Maggie. He knew that he could probably see Maggie if he really wanted to and was willing to make a nuisance of himself. Of course, that didn’t mean that she wanted to see him. He doubted it would take much effort for the palace to find out where he’d gone. He hadn’t even left the city. If she’d wanted to find him, she could have. No, it was much more likely that she’d embraced this insanity. Hell, for all he knew, she was off fighting demons or something equally awful at the very moment. That threatened to touch off a bit of guilt, but he mercilessly crushed that feeling. Nothing had changed except his friend had gone off to do something stupid.
He hoped that she hadn’t bought into all of that ridiculous hero nonsense so much that it erased her common sense. Maybe the king had provided her with some people to back her up. He tried to remember the term they used for that. Oh, right, he thought. It’s a party. If they had given her a party, he prayed that there was at least one sane person in it who recommended things like retreating from vastly superior foes rather than charging headlong into the mouth of a dragon. He supposed that he was no better than Maggie. If he wanted to find out about her or her party, it probably wouldn’t take more than a question or two. He imagined that she was a celebrity here. He might not get pure facts if he asked around, but he’d probably get a general sense of things.
Except, he couldn’t be sure if that would make it easier or harder for him. No, he thought. It’s better to just leave things be. Maggie had chosen her path and, whatever he might think about it, he should let her walk it as far as she wanted to take it. Asking a million what-if questions wasn’t productive. He’d also made his choice, and made it for what he thought were way better reasons. Decisions always had some kind of consequences. He reached down into the water looking for the next plate or some loose silverware and came up empty. He looked around at the nearby counters and found them empty as well.
“Must be a slow night,” he said to no one in particular.
He went over to a little table that he and the girls used to take breaks or get a few bites of food. He grabbed the apple he’d left there earlier, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully. He knew that he couldn’t work at the inn forever. Free room and board were pretty sweet for the moment, but it wasn’t really a career path. Enrica was going to be running this place forever. He’d have to move on eventually, but he thought he might stay for six months or a year. It wasn’t like he was hard up for cash. A year ought to give him enough time to explore the city and see what kind of options he had. He didn’t really have many skills from his old life, or at least not any that would serve him in this new world. Being internet-savvy didn’t mean much, and he’d been a political science major. Now, he wished he’d picked up something a little more hands-on if only as a hobby. It wouldn’t have killed you to get a job working construction in the summers, he griped at himself.
With a sigh, he finished the apple and tossed the core into a bin they used for vegetable and fruit scraps. Apparently, there was a farmer who came by once a week to take them away for composting. It looked like a mutually beneficial thing. The farmer got better soil, and Enrica didn’t have to bother too much about the waste. James would have thought that there would be a magical solution to those problems, but maybe that kind of magic was rare or expensive. He added it to the list of questions to pester Enrica and girls with when he got a chance. That kind of ignorance was exactly why he wasn’t rushing out into the world. All of his common knowledge was practically useless. He needed to replace it with all the stuff that people here took for granted.
He was considering a bathroom break when he heard a raised voice form the dining area.
“Don’t be like that,” said an overly loud male voice.
There was a softer female voice that he couldn’t make out, but he’d heard guys talking like that in bars before. It almost never led to anything good. For a second or two, he was frozen in indecision. That lack of knowledge about this world felt overwhelming to him. Was he expected to just leave things alone? Was butting into something like considered taboo? He just didn’t know. Then again, he doubted most societies looked kindly on drunken jackholes being obnoxious and bothering people. He walked out of the kitchen and looked around.
Enrica was glaring hatefully across the room, and her hands were balled into fists that shook. He followed the line of her glare and a guy who could have come straight out of an issue of Frat Boy Weekly. He was tall, athletic, blonde, and even had a square jaw. He was also wearing some kind of armor and had a sword on a hip. James couldn’t tell if the guy was some kind of soldier or just liked looking like he might be. He had also all but cornered Lysnia, who looked downright scared.
“Just have a drink with me,” said the guy as he took an aggressive step toward the girl.
“Oh, fuck that noise,” said James.
He’d seen this kind of bullshit play out before too, and he hadn’t like it then either.
“James. Don’t!” said Enrica, but it was too late.
“Hey! She’s not going to have a drink with you, jackass. Learn to take no for an answer.”
“You should mind your own business, friend,” said someone at a nearby table.
James started to glance that way, but the frat boy had already taken a swing. James was no kung fu expert, but he’d taken a few self-defense classes along the way. Blocking was one of the first things they taught, and he’d practiced it consistently under the revolutionary theory that it was way better to not get hit than to get hit. He’d also practiced the standard counter move, which was a punch. Of course, that move didn’t account for things like armor. He’d already blocked the incoming punch and throw his own punch in return before he recognized the problem. He didn’t even have time to redirect the blow before his fist connected with the chest armor.
What James had not expected was for the frat boy to fly backward with a garbled scream, crash into the wall, and then pass through the wall before his limp body came to rest in the street outside. James stared in horror at the still form as the chilling thought that he’d just killed the guy passed through his mind. Then, the frat boy took a labored breath. James released the breath that he’d been unconsciously holding. He looked around and felt horribly self-conscious as everyone in the room stared at him. He briefly considered the hole in the wall before he turned a cautious look at Enrica.
“Do I need to pay for that?” he asked, mentally wincing as he gestured at the hole.
Comments
Jeremy Young
Them fighting words!
Rocinante
' incoming punch and throw(n) his own punch"
Rocinante
I love the idea of his Scribe having to use memories super generic karate to channel the magic through.
Eric Dontigney
It's not intentional, and they will diverge more and more. But, there's only so many ways to handle an isekai story where the protagonist is reluctant, and I wanted to try it with a main character who was less actively paranoid and antisocial.
GreenB
I love how well this parallels Isekai Terry.
Angela Roberts
This should be most interesting. "You're really strong, come fight!" "I don't want to!" Hmmmm
BelligerentGnu
Well, that's one way to drag him back into a plotline :p
Marian Ch
Well, I'm sure this *won't* bring in all sorts of wannabe toughs wanting a piece of this not-hero.
