Stretching their stiff body, they rose from their spot.
Somehow, they had managed to reach the residential district.
Yet, they had no idea what to do next.
While escaping the slums had been their top priority—to evade that pig and move towards a better environment—they hadn’t properly planned what to do afterwards.
Simply being free from the stench of sewage was a relief, but they couldn’t possibly continue sleeping rough here.
Above all, they were ravenous.
They hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday.
If only they could recall how they usually ate, they might at least try to replicate it.
However, no such useful memories remained within them.
“‘For now…'”
‘Right.’
‘Finding a job would be the priority.’
‘But in their current state, if they clung to someone asking for work, they’d likely be beaten and chased away, so a wash seemed essential.’
The problem was that they only possessed two copper coins (TL Note: ‘Donghwa’ is the local currency, with one coin estimated to be roughly equivalent to 1,000 Korean Won.)
While unsure of their exact value, having observed the bustling street stalls upon entering the residential district, they estimated one copper coin was roughly worth a thousand Korean Won.
“‘Going to a public bathhouse would be ideal, but…'”
They shook their head, doubting if 2,000 Won would suffice.
Rather than seeking out a bathhouse, they decided to wash themselves in the river that flowed through the residential district.
After all, everyone else seemed to be doing their laundry by the river.
Surely, no one would reprimand them for washing there.
They limped forward, taking hesitant steps.
The weight of people’s gazes pressed down on them, so they sought out the most secluded spot possible, which meant a considerable walk to the riverside they had seen earlier.
The moment they appeared on the street, they could feel people’s eyes converging on them.
Some covered their noses, as if a foul stench emanated from them, while others muttered barely audible insults.
A wave of injustice washed over them.
They weren’t here by choice.
They didn’t want to endure such stares and curses.
There was no reason they should be treated this way.
Yet, confronted by the loathing in the surrounding gazes, they couldn’t bring themselves to argue; they could only hunch their shoulders, fix their eyes on the ground, and quicken their pace.
*Thwack!*
A sudden impact struck their head, and pain surged through them.
Clutching their head, they collapsed onto the ground.
Tears welled up, and checking the hand they had instinctively pressed to their head, they found a faint smear of blood.
Startled, they turned to see two young children pointing and snickering at them.
For a moment, they were so dumbfounded they could only stare, but then, individuals who appeared to be the children’s parents shielded them and began glaring at the protagonist instead.
“What are you looking at?! Get lost!”
They had been hit by a stone and subjected to insults.
Rage boiled within them, but they had no choice but to swallow it down.
While this world was undeniably awful, uttering such a truth aloud could unleash an unforeseen catastrophe.
Clenching their hands with difficulty, they pretended as if nothing had happened.
Suppressing their tears, they continued towards the river.
Along the way, they endured countless indignities.
Whether it was due to their ‘Gloomy Aura (TL Note: ‘Eumulhan Giun’ refers to a character trait that emanates a dark, ominous, or depressing presence, often leading to negative reactions from others.)’ trait, or if people genuinely despised them as a person, the level of animosity was beyond what one could reasonably bear.
Upon reaching the riverside, they saw women lined up, doing their laundry.
They walked further down the riverbank until they found a secluded spot, then slowly stripped off their clothes and stepped into the water.
It was frigid.
The water stung their wounds, but they persevered, determined to wash themselves clean and eliminate the stench.
Although the slums also had a river, it had long been polluted with sewage, rendering it unfit for bathing or drinking.
In contrast, this river’s water appeared clean enough to drink.
They filled their famished stomach with water and scrubbed their body with their hands for nearly an hour.
Beyond the pain, their senses grew strangely dull and numb; intuitively realizing it was time to leave, they emerged from the water and put on their still-damp clothes, which they had washed and laid out to dry.
“‘Is my nose numb, or can I simply not detect the foul odor emanating from my own body?'”
‘Perhaps it was because this was the norm in the slums.’
‘There were times when others covering their noses as they approached felt like an overreaction.’
Having temporarily satisfied their hunger with water, they decided to sit on a suitable rock and pass the time until their body and clothes dried.
“‘I want to go home…'”
‘Even if narcolepsy prevented a normal life there.’
‘It was still ten, even a hundred times better than this current existence.’
‘What good was a clear mind for anyway?’
‘In this dire situation, a clouded mind would probably be far more helpful.’
“‘…Now that I’ve washed, things should be a little better than before. Will anyone hire me?'”
‘If only her body were in better condition, it would be much easier.’
Rie’s tastes were so utterly twisted that she had created her in the form of a pint-sized child.
A dirty, smelly, powerless young girl.
‘Who would ever hire someone like this?’
‘While she was no longer dirty or smelly, the fact that she was a powerless young girl remained unchanged.’
Despite having scrubbed herself until she squeaked, she regretted not being able to check her appearance due to the lack of a mirror.
‘If only she were cute and pretty, there might be some small chance of people looking upon her favorably.’
She regretted being too shocked during character customization to properly examine her face.
Only after some time had passed and her clothes had dried did she finally rise.
‘Staying put like this would accomplish nothing.’
‘Only by confronting the world directly would results emerge.’ *Slap, slap!* She patted her cheeks to clear her head, then organized her thoughts.
Mentally listing the tasks she could perform, she straightened her back with newfound resolve and set out to find shops that might hire her.
“Hello! I’m confident I can do anything you ask! Would you consider hiring me?”
“Hello! I’m looking for work!”
“Hello! Do you have any tasks you need done?”
“Hello! If possible, would you consider hiring me?”
Hello… Hello… Hello…!
Countless rejections.
Some stared down at her with undisguised disgust, slamming doors in her face before she could even finish speaking, while others went as far as to douse her with water.
“‘…Hmph.'”
‘Still, if this were the slums, they would have thrown sewage, not water. It seemed the residents of the residential district at least retained a shred of conscience.’
“‘…At least the last person spoke properly to me, that’s something to be thankful for.'”
‘Hadn’t they said, “There’s not a single person on this street who would hire someone from the slums!”?’
‘It was possible that, enveloped by her Gloomy Aura, they had uttered words they didn’t truly mean.’
‘However, if her Gloomy Aura had elicited such a reaction, they would have said she was repulsive, not the slums.’
‘It seemed the slums were an object of much deeper contempt than she had vaguely imagined.’
“‘Is it because I’m carrying a pass… or do they think I’m from the slums because of my clothes?'”
Whatever the reason, she now knew with certainty that if she wanted to work, she needed to shed all traces of the slums.
“Achoo!”
Her body shivered uncontrollably; she felt a cold coming on.
“‘…There’s no time. I have no choice.'”
She didn’t want to resort to such measures, but in situations like this, acting shamelessly and maliciously was often the best course.
She immediately turned around.
Having knocked on the doors of over thirty establishments, she headed back to the one whose owner had shown the mildest demeanor.
It was an antique shop run by an old man who had lost an eye.
Though his words of rejection had been cold, they had also carried a clear undertone of concern, giving her a glimmer of hope.
“‘He said, “This place has many dangerous items, so it’s not suitable for a child to work here.”‘”
‘This meant he hadn’t rejected her because he disliked her, as others had, but literally because the place was unsuitable for a child to work.’
“‘…I was surprised by his kind words, but thinking about it now, it’s because of those words that I’m heading there, so it’s not my fault.'”
‘If you feed a stray cat out of pity, it will inevitably follow you from then on.’
‘The person who offered the food might have done so out of simple pity, without a second thought, but the cat will become devoted to them.’
‘Her current situation was much the same.’
Her footsteps were now carrying her towards that antique shop, drawn by a relatively kind remark made without much thought.
‘If she spent a few nights sleeping outside that shop, begging to be taken in, there seemed to be a greater chance of success than anywhere else.’
‘Perhaps if she cheerfully cleaned the street’s rubbish in front of his shop, things might somehow work out.’
‘In her current state, she couldn’t go anywhere else anyway.’
‘Everyone in the slums had witnessed her buying the pass.’
‘She had run hard and fast, before people could fully process what they’d seen.’
‘She had crossed the gate and come here.’
‘If she returned to the slums now, they would treat her as someone with money simply for having bought the pass, and they would surely harm her.’
‘She absolutely could not, and would not, go back.’
‘She had to make a life for herself in the residential district, no matter what.’
Having arrived at the antique shop, she looked around.
It was tucked away in a quiet corner, rarely frequented by people.
She settled down, carefully leaning her back against the wall.
It was cold, but at least there was no scattered refuse, and thus no foul smell.
Her stomach, filled with water, felt subtly sloshing, but at least she wasn’t hungry at that very moment.
‘Given how long this was taking, and Rie wasn’t complaining at all, it truly seemed she (Rie, the GM) was busy creating and leveling up a new character.’
‘It felt utterly unfair.’
Her head spun, so she pressed her temples firmly.
Her body trembled uncontrollably, a clear sign her condition was worsening.
She needed to keep her eyes wide open and alert until the old man from the antique shop emerged.
Yet, it proved to be incredibly difficult.
Sleepiness washed over her.
Too much had happened yesterday and today.
****
The old man couldn’t shake the thought of the child he had turned away earlier that day.
Her shabby attire and the precious pass clutched in her hand had instantly revealed her as a child from the slums.
Seeing her skeletal frame, a testament to how little she had eaten, the old man had felt a primal surge of pity.
“Though the aura she emanates is gloomy and unsettling, she didn’t seem to be a bad child by nature,” he murmured softly.
His quiet soliloquy perfectly reflected his inner sentiments.
Although she exuded an unsettling aura, the old man didn’t mind, as many of his antiques also possessed similar qualities.
He was also aware that what truly mattered was the essence, not merely the aura one gave off.
Thus, the old man was able to see the child beyond her unpleasant aura.
The child had sought him out, asking for work.
She had even offered to work without pay.
She promised to work diligently if he could provide food and a place to sleep.
The old man knew well that there was no falsehood in her words, and that they were laced with both hope and desperation.
However, due to the nature of the items he handled, he had rejected her for safety reasons.
“‘Hmm…'”
He swallowed, a deep sigh in his throat.
The thought lingered in his mind: ‘Should I have taken her in then, given her some simple chores, and looked after her?’ But it was a bygone matter.
Regret would be far too late now.
The old man clucked his tongue in disappointment and rose from his seat.
As he stepped out of his shop to head home, he spotted a small figure leaning against the wall outside the door.
In the dark night, the old man squinted his dim eyes at the figure, and moonlight, breaking through the clouds, illuminated it.
The old man recognized her instantly.
It was the child he had sent away that afternoon.
Could it be that she had been waiting there all this time?
With a wry expression, the old man approached the child and immediately felt an unsettling sense of wrongness.
The sound of her breathing, which should have been audible, was barely a whisper, as if it could cease at any moment.
“Hey…!”
Rushing forward, he placed a hand on her forehead; it was burning hot.
Conversely, her hands and feet were as cold as ice, and despite shaking her a few times, she showed no sign of waking.
The old man’s dilemma—what to do with this child—did not last long.
He gently scooped her up and carried her back into the shop.
Perhaps, he mused, this too was fate.
