The Soldier and The Novelist

Tense Encounter

“I just can’t seem to like this coffee.” Gold furrowed his brow after taking a sip from his cup.

Hugh chuckled, “Is that so? I also have tea if you’d like.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not that I hate it from the bottom of my heart, I just don’t understand the appeal.”

“Then don’t drink it,” I muttered, looking off into the distance. Both Gold and I were sitting at the counter, with an empty seat between us.

“You can’t refuse a treat, you know. You have no sense of gratitude.”

“Since you sat down, Hugh hasn’t mentioned anything about it being a treat,” I said, glaring at the seat next to me.

“Heh, I didn’t ask for it. This coffee just appeared in front of me.”

“Really… It’s my treat. Sword, Gold, stop your pointless bickering. We finally have the three of us together after so long.”

“Hey, Hugh. Since we’re all finally here, why don’t we make a pact to kill a person?” I averted my gaze from the blond hair and made a proposal to Hugh.

“Haha, that’s a good one. Who are we going to kill? I’m in.”

“Sword, I don’t understand what’s so special about this occasion, and your proposal seems like it could cause damage beyond our group, so it’s better to withdraw it.”

Apparently, our relationship wouldn’t change even if our mercenary group disbanded.

“Did you come here for a reason, or you just came to drink coffee you don’t even like?” I frowned and asked Gold.

“Hey, be careful what you say, Sword. I came here to give you some good news, after all.”

It was Hugh who was the first to show interest in the news. “Good news for Sword? Is it a job referral or something?”

Gold proudly held up a finger. “You’re spot on, Hugh. I knew you’d get it.”

I furrowed my eyebrows suspiciously. “A referral? For what?”

“Yep, as a kind-hearted person, I’ve come to offer a job to a poor unemployed person like you.” Gold’s expression was full of pride, as if to say “be grateful.” He was a presumptuous guy, imposing favors without being asked.

I waved my hand to show my lack of interest. “No thanks. I don’t want to throw away my life just yet.”

“Your life is already like garbage anyway.”

“You say that when you’re at the bottom of the dumpster yourself.”

“It’s precisely because I’m at the bottom that I understand… We’re the same.”

Hugh let out a sigh of exasperation at the sight of us bickering. Then, he regained his composure and asked, “So, what kind of job is it?”

“It’s probably some sort of sewer cleaner or something,” I snorted and sneered.

Gold returned the same mocking expression as me. “I told you before, it’s a bloody job,” he replied with a defiant smile. “In short, it’s the same old mercenary business, then and now.”

His answer left me dumbfounded.

“A mercenary? Did you join a surviving union? Ridiculous. You’ll just get crushed by the church again in no time.”

In response, Gold shook his head in disbelief. “You’re still a weak-minded guy, Sword. Just because it’s called ‘mercenary’ doesn’t mean there aren’t different ways of doing things.”

“Are you saying it’s a freelance contract, then?” said Hugh.

“Exactly. You’re different from Sword, after all, Hugh.”

After a bitter pill to swallow, I voiced my criticism. “Freelance contract? That’s not even possible. In other words, you’re a mercenary doing business for yourself? Didn’t the church ban the mercenary business?”

Hugh shook his head, “The church is currently limited to advocating for the abolition of the mercenary union in order to reduce the national budget subsidies given to them. Despite the uncertainty of the Utopian Policy, operating a mercenary business as an individual is still allowed by law.”

Gold nodded in agreement, “Well, it’s a loophole in the law.”

“But,” I objected, “is it even practically feasible to do such a thing? Wouldn’t one have to take on all the burden that the union was previously handling?”

Hugh provided an answer to my question. “Certainly, if someone chooses to become a mercenary as a sole proprietor, they would have to handle everything from business development to accounting. Finding work would be especially challenging. Without a certain level of connections from the outset, it would be almost impossible to continue the operation.”

“It’s not a loophole in the law, it’s a thorny path,” I grumbled. “Unless you have such connections, Gold?”

However, Gordo still had a confident smile on his face. “Fortunately, when you have skills like mine, you can be in high demand.”

It seems that he’s been able to secure some connections. It’s a truly unfair world. Despite feeling like a sore loser, I couldn’t help but speak my mind in contempt. “Those connections of yours are probably shady, right?”

“Have mercenaries ever had any kind of spotlight on them?”

I fell silent. His argument was compelling.

“And so,” Hugh spoke up, “does that mean the job offer for Sword that kind of mercenary work?”

“Yes, in fact, it’s in high demand. The duration of the request overlapped with a job I had already accepted. I could have refused, but it’s better to leave a good impression on the client for future considerations, don’t you think?”

Then, Gold pointed at me. “So, I was looking for a skilled mercenary who might be available somewhere.”

I sipped my coffee silently without responding. Even though we usually exchanged vulgar insults, we recognized each other’s abilities. Especially since we, including Hugh, had risked our lives together as mercenaries in the past. It was understandable why that bastard Gold had his sights set on me.

As I remained silent, Hugh called out to me from across the table. “It’s a good offer, Sword.”

“Unfortunately, I’m busy studying for the selection exam at the moment.”

To my unenthusiastic waving of hands, Hugh responded with a sarcastic smile. “I bet your chances of continuing as a freelance mercenary are much higher than becoming a church knight.”

I lowered my gaze to the study guide beside the coffee cup. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t come up with a counterargument.

“Besides,” Hugh added, “you can go back to being a mercenary.”

Back to being a mercenary.

That meant crossing the city walls again, following a map, and protecting someone.

Just the thought of it lifted some of the dark mood that had been lingering in my chest since the union’s closure. At the same time, a nostalgic sense of weariness resurfaced.

Hugh peered into my face mischievously and said, “Or do you think you could find some satisfaction in being a knight?”

I couldn’t answer immediately.

One can’t live their life on just pretty words and emotions. That’s a general statement. It’s clear at first glance which is a better life: being a stable income-earning knight or being a free mercenary without any future prospects. I can understand that much.

Yes, I understand.

However, understanding is different from being convinced.

“…It depends on the job description,” I muttered in response. It was a desperate answer.

Gold grinned happily, his eyes shining. “So that means you’ve already made up your mind?”

I glared at him. “Just so you know, I’ll never take a request to kill anyone.”

“Relax. The job I’m introducing to you this time is the same escort mission as always. Escort the client to their destination. You’re good at that, right?”

Hugh confirmed with me, his face relieved. “Take it, Sword.”

“Just once for now. I can’t afford to put myself in a situation where I’ll have nothing to eat tomorrow,” I said, propping my chin on my hand and turning my face away. I felt embarrassed, like I had somehow been tricked by Gold.

Seeing me like that, Gold laughed out loud. “You really are an amusing guy.”

Then he unexpectedly reached for the exam textbook that was in front of me.

“Well, you don’t need this anymore,” he said it quickly and threw the book into the air.

In an instant, a flash of a long object appeared at his waist. I saw it six times with my own eyes. The sound of the blade returning to its sheath was delayed by one beat. Before the textbook hit the floor, it turned into confetti and scattered throughout the store.

Hugh, who was watching the scene, pressed her eyes, “Who do you think is going to clean up after this mess? Honestly…”

I was stunned. After I came to my sense, I grabbed Gold’s collar. “You, my book!”

However, he was completely indifferent and carefree, “Huh? You’re not taking the exam, are you?”

“That’s not the point! It’s a book I bought with my money!”

“Well, it’s going to end up as toilet paper in next week’s recycling anyway, so don’t be so annoying.”

“Then compensate me for it instead of using it as toilet paper!”

“Sword, that’s an outrageous argument… or maybe you were planning to use it as toilet paper after all?”

“Haha, I guess I knew my place after all.”

“Well, Sword isn’t the type to study for exams, right?” Hugh interjected.

“You guys are treating people like idiots…”

At that moment, the sound of an old clock placed by the entrance echoed throughout the shop. It was the sound of the opening of the Green Knight cafe, announcing that it was ten in the morning.

Almost at the same time, as if on cue, the shop’s door opened. Unlike Gold’s rough opening, it was the refreshing sound of a bell announcing the arrival of a customer.

While grabbing Gold by the collar, he smirked, “Right on time… What a punctual client,” he muttered to himself, but his words went in one ear and out the other.

As the client appeared before us, my grip on his collar weakened. For some reason, even Hugh, behind the counter, was showing an unusual expression on his face.

In the silence, the client stood before us with a dignified posture and asked, “I was told this was the meeting place… Where’s the mercenary that you hired?”

I was stunned and took a step back. Long black hair, chestnut-colored eyes, a chiseled face, and a traveling bag made of cow leather by her side. There was no mistaking it.

“You’re…”

“No way, that can’t be,” Hugh muttered, almost drowning out my words. His face was as bewildered as mine, “Professor Forester…?”

The woman called upon turned her head and let out a faint smile as if letting out a sigh. Her appearance was somewhat happy.

“Hmm, it seems my face is well known. The name of the library cafe isn’t just for show,” she murmured, shaking off her black hair draped over her shoulders with a theatrical tone, “That’s right. My name is Forester.”

With a confident look on her face, she introduced herself, “I’m a novelist, Bardalon Forester.”

That was the name of the perpetrator who kicked me in the face with a high kick yesterday.