Chapter 120

Glico.

A region that had once belonged to the ducal territory, classified as a village but nearly as large as a city.

In fact, when he first heard about it at Hartmann Castle, he had thought that the condition of the royal direct territory wouldn't be particularly good.

After all, the image of the direct territory that Leandros had described was one where.

Representatives sent from the royal family made kickback contracts,

And the residents bore the full brunt of the damage.

He had been imagining that the people of the direct territory would be guarding dilapidated villages or desolate lands.

But as soon as they entered Glico, such thoughts immediately vanished.

"The village... looks intact. The people seem happy too."

The people in the villages or cities he had visited until now were ordinary.

People who worried about making a living, haggled over prices at the market, gathered in small groups to talk about the day's harvest, or laughed loudly while doing laundry.

But the people living here were somewhat different.

There was a certain leisure in the very air of the village.

A looseness without tension, one might say.

Leandros, observing the passersby, added.

"Most of them are smiling."

"Are they that happy?"

It was bewildering.

No, how happy and peaceful must they be to walk around smiling like this?

When he was in Korea, he had never smiled while walking.

At best, he might feel momentarily good when something nice happened, like leaving work early on a Friday.

But he wouldn't walk around grinning when nothing special was happening.

While they were blankly watching the people, someone approached.

"Hello, travelers! Do you perhaps need a place to stay?"

When he looked down from Sleigh, a young man with a friendly appearance was standing there.

He smiled amiably and said.

"Seeing you standing still, I thought you might not have decided on a place to stay yet. Or have you already found a suitable location?"

"Not really. Is there an inn around here?"

"Of course, absolutely! Would you like to come to the inn my aunt runs? The food is delicious, and the beds are soft."

So he had been soliciting travelers.

But for those of us who truly had nowhere to stay, it was welcome news.

Thanks to the young man who guided them and chattered incessantly, they learned even information they hadn't wanted to know.

For instance, that the young man's name was Jen and he was 24 years old, he had a crush on someone at a nearby farm,

And that after Jen lost his parents at a young age, his aunt had taken him in, and the aunt had inherited the inn from her grandmother.

That his aunt's cooking was really delicious, but he didn't know what the secret was.

He had been inadvertently caught up in this and was just nodding along, when Amelia, who had been quiet, suddenly asked.

"B-by the way. I h-heard that this place u-used to belong to the H-Hartmann ducal territory. Is th-that not the case n-now?"

"Ah, the ducal territory. That's right. It's only been a few years since it became a royal direct territory."

"Th-then are th-there any ch-changes?"

"Well, I'm not sure. This might be because I'm living off my aunt. But my aunt's grumbling has definitely decreased."

"G-grumbling about w-what?"

"I guess it was mostly about money. In the old days, she used to joke that she'd have to pay a separate tax to the Duke for every bowl of soup."

Jen laughed as if it were a joke, but Amelia glanced at him.

Why was she looking at him like that?

"If you don't mind, about the taxes."

"Oh, well. There were building taxes and place taxes. There were also taxes when acquiring ingredients? There were fines for carelessly disposing of dirty water from washing bedsheets. And if we received many guests, we had to pay a separate tax per person."

"You could go bankrupt just trying to open an inn."

"Haha, that's right. I don't know the details, though. But thankfully, since becoming a direct territory, we don't have to pay that much anymore."

"I see. Um, other than that, are there any inconveniences from becoming a direct territory?"

"I don't think there were any inconveniences. Sometimes demonic beasts come down, but the contracted mercenaries come out right away to deal with them."

"What about damages?"

"I can't say there aren't any damages. But I think it's unavoidable. Ah, we're here! Can you see that sign hanging there?"

Jen energetically pointed to the inn.

After giving him the reins as Jen offered to take the horse to the stable, they requested two rooms at the inn.

Carrying the room tokens given by the friendly innkeeper, they entered their rooms.

Clean bedding, a neat and tidy room well-maintained without dust.

A warm atmosphere with the sunny afternoon light filtering in.

A peace with no sign of threat from demonic beasts.

Seeing this, he unconsciously muttered.

"We're doomed."

* * *

It's wrong to wish for others' unhappiness for one's own purposes.

Despite knowing this all too well, it seemed he had been hoping for these people to be unhappy.

Of course, that was natural.

Because only if someone in this world was unhappy could Leandros appear and save them.

Isn't that how all salvation narratives work?

The repertoire of a hero who saves others through their tearful sacrifice and devotion is common.

Since he would handle the sacrifice and devotion from this side, he was only hoping that someone would be a little unhappy for the sake of the story's protagonist.

But even that was a wrong wish to begin with.

"A-aren't you h-hungry? Have s-some of this."

"...I don't want to eat."

"Then at least have something to drink, Your Grace."

"I don't want to drink."

After unpacking in our rooms and leaving the snowman there, we came back down for dinner.

With steaming hot food in front of him, Amelia and Leandros tried to persuade him from both sides as he touched nothing.

Jen, who was serving food, saw this and widened his eyes.

"My goodness, what precious young master is this to be so picky about food? If you taste our special carrot soup, you'll surely fall in love with it."

"I just don't eat much, usually."

"Oh my. Why is your cousin brother so stubborn? Was he raised pampered at home?"

"S-something like th-that..."

When Amelia's voice trailed off, Jen smiled as if he understood everything.

"My aunt always says the same thing. That sons are bull-headed no matter how you raise them."

"Your a-aunt must have a h-hard time."

"No, it's fine. That brother isn't here. Well, please call me if you need anything else!"

The cheerful voice faded away.

Amelia, after confirming no one was around, whispered as she served him soup separately.

"Y-you've had a b-bad expression for a w-while now. Y-you're not s-sick, are you, Y-Your Grace?"

"It's not that."

Freshly boiled hot orange soup.

Guests extending kindness to others while enjoying their meals.

Cheerful people and gentle greetings.

Seeing those scenes, his stomach twisted again.

"...Am I garbage?"

"W-what are you s-saying?"

"I feel like garbage for imagining these people living a hellish life, and I'm ashamed because it seems the royal management now is better than before."

He wasn't Arenheit, but people saw him as Arenheit.

Perhaps because of that, all the dishonorable deeds following the name Hartmann felt like his fault.

Amelia looked at him as if she found it difficult to understand.

"B-but that's s-something any n-noble who owns a t-territory would do. M-maybe the scale was l-larger because it w-was a ducal f-family."

"Such mad outrage and exploitation was permissible?"

"The d-ducal family also n-needed funds to d-dispatch, feed, and t-train private s-soldiers."

"But it doesn't seem like they needed to charge money even for a bowl of soup."

Was he the one who was strange?

Amelia seemed already steeped in a sense of privilege.

No matter how he thought about it, he was the normal one.

Think about it.

Suppose he had made money by doing business in Gangnam.

Then the building owner comes and says this.

-Hey, Yesung. Business seems to be going well today? You know you have to pay a separate maintenance fee for our building entrance every time a customer comes in, right? And it seems the pavement in front of our expensive building is damaged because customers are lining up, which looks bad aesthetically. I'll bill you for repairs right away, so you know.

That's completely outrageous.

Just hearing such words would make one's blood boil, and to make matters worse, what if that building owner was a congressman with connections?

The Glico of the past seemed to be close to that situation.

The opponent was a noble of high status, with taxes that increased absurdly.

If you couldn't pay, your property would be seized; if you barely paid, you'd be on the verge of bankruptcy.

He absolutely couldn't defend Hartmann.

He didn't want to say this, but in this case, Yurik was doing the right thing.

After all, one couldn't condemn someone who actively promoted stability for the people.

With just one exception.

He couldn't understand why such benevolence was only practiced in places like this.

After turning the north into that state, they only manage the royal direct territories well?

Was it because many people passed through here?

"Your Grace, we don't need any immediate strategy in this situation. So how about resting well today?"

"Th-that's right! Y-you might be t-tired from the l-long journey. Y-you're just being s-sensitive. A r-rest will make you f-feel better!"

Amelia and Leandros were right.

The stamina of this body was close to non-recyclable trash,

And a weak body greatly affected the mind as well.

He went up to his room, receiving concerned looks from the two.

* * *

A night with no moon, where not even birds sang.

A shadow left the village.

The shadow, hastening its steps, left the road and headed toward a field.

The shadow had no light source, but had no fear because it knew the field was communal land owned by Glico village.

Crossing a field where sparsely emerged grass and untended crops grew haphazardly,

A small farmhouse surrounded by a low fence appeared in the darkness.

From the back of the farmhouse, grunting sounds could be faintly heard.

When the shadow approached the farmhouse and knocked on the door a few times, after a moment, someone appeared from inside.

It was a young woman with hair braided in two, with a somewhat temperamental appearance.

"Jen! Why are you so late? I thought you had forgotten to come!"

"Sorry, Sofi. There were many guests today. Am I too late?"

"They're just the usual village people we always see, right? Of course you are. Come in quickly, what if someone sees us?"

At the irritable voice, Jen hurriedly went inside.

The interior, lit by only a couple of candles, was still dim.

Sofi snatched the small leather pouch in Jen's hand and hastily put it to her mouth.

Liquid trickled down her chin, dripping.

After emptying the leather pouch in one go, Sofi barely removed her mouth and murmured.

"...I can't stand even a day without this anymore."

"But we're almost there. Hang in there."

"If only Hannah hadn't injured her leg, I wouldn't have been stuck here for weeks! I think she did it on purpose. Rumors are already spreading, you know? That ill-mannered girl is going around saying she doesn't want to do it-"

Squeak, squeak, oink, oink.

Pig sounds were heard again.

Sofi froze in place and just stared at the back door.

As the pig's cries grew slightly louder, Sofi said quietly.

"It's making that noise because it's hungry."

"Sofi, you just sit here for a bit. Drink more of that. I also brought my aunt's bread. You like this, don't you? I'll go give some food to those things instead."

"I wish we could stop doing this."

"I know, I know well. I'll finish quickly and come back."

Jen sat the staggering Sofi in the corner and handed her the meal he had brought along with the alcohol pouch.

Then, familiar with the routine, he took a sack that was strewn under the table and went out through the back door.

A heavy sack and dragging feet.

The back of the farmhouse was widely open, and the fence was taller and more solid than the front.

In front of the fence were several pens.

Passing through the now empty pens, if one went deeper, the ground suddenly sank.

The artificially dug ground was deep enough that even a reasonably capable person would struggle to climb out once they fell in.

Grunting sounds were coming from down there.

Jen stared down below and then held up the sack he had brought and shook it upside down.

Chicken heads, goat hooves, twisted horns, entrails of slaughtered animals.

Animal by-products that livestock couldn't seem to eat tumbled down.

Oink, squeak, oink.

Smacking sounds were heard.

Along with the smell of blood, there were sounds of something being torn, split, and broken.

Jen, trying not to look at it, returned to the farmhouse through the empty pens.

Sofi was still crouched in the corner, and Jen sat beside her, letting her lean her head on him.

In the dark night.

Only grunting sounds could be heard faintly from somewhere.