The tavern swarmed with people as soon as Allen began his cooking. It wasn't just the soup that drew them in, but the delectable dishes Allen had whipped up. However, despite his newfound life as a cook, Allen's life was still uncertain.
Although he started to like cooking, he couldn't shake the feeling that it came at the cost of relinquishing his past.
He felt that his current actions would throw away his old self.
If he continued cooking, his sparring with his mother seemed pointless; his training with Theobauld and her amnis training with Thrustan were also pointless.
He would forget everything about his past as if he were trying to escape from his personal battles, not resolve them.
Despite his doubts, he kept cooking, finding and developing new recipes. He did it because he still had nothing to do.
And today
One month, 93 days have passed.
The month of fire ended, and we entered the month of wind.
Unlike usual, Susan walked upstairs to Allen's room on that cold morning. As soon as she entered Allen's room, Susan tried to wake him up by moving his shoulders, but before she could reach his shoulders,
-GRAB
Allen immediately woke up and pulled Susan's hand.
"HWEEEEH?!"
Allen pulled Susan's body into his arms and then locked her neck with his left hand.
"Allen! It's me, Susan! Let go!" cried Susan in pain.
'Susan? What is she doing here?!'
Allen immediately came to his senses and let go of Susan's body.
"Sorry, master told me to wake you up."
Allen nodded. Suddenly he realizes he didn't use any bandanas to cover his hair.
'What should I do?! Did she see my white hair?! Why did Master tell her to wake me up?!' Allen thought.
"Then I'll go down now; put on your clothes first," Susan said.
"Wait!"
"Yeah?"
'Iskaria once said that my white hair is the source of trouble. If she reports this to the soldiers, I will be arrested, and master could also be arrested. Should I kill her?" thought Allen.
"What's wrong?" asked Susan again, confused by Allen's expression.
"Did you promise not to say anything about my hair?" asked Allen; somehow he couldn't kill her when seeing her face.
"What's wrong with your hair? Black hair is rare, but I saw it on the first day."
'Huh? What the hell was that reaction?'
Allen immediately got out and went to the bathtub, looking at the reflection of his face in the water.
"The white hair is gone," Allen said as he ruffled his hair.
| He replayed everything people had said about his hair.
"White hair is the sign of a Norttish."
"Hide your hair; it only adds to the problem."
"You shouldn't show it in town."
"Use something to cover your hair."
The white hair that he thought was the source of the problem had somehow disappeared. It was no longer there; he no longer needed to hide anything on his head.
"Allen, what's wrong with you?" asked Susan outside the door, her voice sounding worried.
"It's nothing. Tell master to wait a little longer."
"Okay."
Allen returned to his room and put on his clothes. When he wanted to tie his head with the bandana, he thought,
"Now it should be okay not to wear it," Allen muttered.
As soon as Allen reached the kitchen, Susan and Rodion seemed to be preparing to leave.
"You're finally awake, sleeper brat." Rodion said."Oh? You don't wear a bandana today, is something good happened."
"It's nothing," Allen replied.
Allen looked at Rodion, who was lifting things. He realized that Rodion looked frail and weak. His walk was hunched over, and he often held his waist in pain.
But the sound of his steps could not be heard at all.
He was thinking about how Rodion got into his room without him noticing. Allen had originally thought that his sensory acuity had decreased. However, it turned out that he was still as usual when Susan entered.
'Who is this old man anyway?' meaning Rodion had some kind of ability or perhaps habit to move silently.
'What the hell am I thinking about this anyway,' Allen decided to ignore it. He approached Rodion and asked,
"Why do we close the tavern today, master?"
"Not just today; during this wind month, we will only open the shop for regular customers. This time we have to buy groceries to prepare before the water month begins," Rodion replied.
"So, we're going to the market? Is it okay if I come too?" asked Susan.
"No, we're not going to the market."
"Then?"
"We're going to the Barkaley estate."
...
The Barkaley estate region was one of the main sources of the Barkaley region. Before the dungeon operation system could run like it did today, the estate was one of the Barkaley territory's wealth sources. The estate's owner was the barony itself, and the people managed it.
The garden contained various kinds of fruits and vegetables, located a few meters beside Barkaley's residence.
When Allen and the party arrived, a soldier called out to the three of them.
"Hey Mr. Rodion, are you going to buy our potatoes again? I heard rumors about your soup."
"Right, this time I'll bring a lot; I brought two of my men here to carry it."
"You should have rented a carriage instead."
"Carriages are very expensive."
The soldier looked at Allen and Susan,
"Poor you guys… this old man must exploit you."
"Ah no, I love working with Mr. Rodion," Susan replied.
Allen was silent.
The soldier looked at Allen for a long time, and then he realized one thing,
"You... have we met before?" the soldier asked.
"Huh? Is it because you're drunk that your brain is dull? What are you talking about? She's an other-worlder who just came to this world; how could she have been here before."
"Hmm... that's right... Maybe I just mistook him for that kid."
"What kid?" asked Rodion.
"Old man, you shouldn't have shut yourself in the shop. You know that I went on a dungeon raid with the prince... That time, we met a black-haired boy in the dungeon.
That boy was so strong, he could kill tons of orcs by himself. He killed many warriors in the dungeon. Do you know my best friend Karl? He was also killed by that boy.
It seems that he was a child raised by monsters, so once the prince killed the monster, he became angry and killed many people."
The soldier looked at Allen, observing his body from top to bottom. Allen began to prepare; he could pull the knife from inside his scarf at any time.
"Ah if I'm not mistaken, he's also the same age as that kid over there, although his body is a little smaller. I couldn't see his face clearly because his hair was long then."
"Do you suspect this subordinate of mine?" asked Rodion.
Allen gripped the knife firmly behind his body until blood came out of his hand. The hatred he should have kept inside somehow suddenly came out. In front of him was now the one who attacked his house. And that person was now telling everything as if he had done nothing wrong, as if the death of his mother was natural while the deaths of others were wrong.
"Haha, there's no way I'd suspect anyone you brought, old man. Besides, that kid back then wasn't an other-worlder; he had a bit of white hair on his head," the smile on the soldier's face slowly disappeared, then he said,
"Anyways, we shouldn't blame that kid."
"Hoo... and why is that? He's already killed a lot of your friends, right? Aren't you angry?" asked Rodion.
"Of course, I'm angry at him; he killed my friends. But that was then. Not anymore.
On that day, I saw the boy crying in front of the monster. His cries were so loud, and the sadness really radiated from his face. Since the child was still alive until then, the monster probably raised the child as its own. In any case, we should be the ones at fault for attacking them.
As soon as I thought of that child's crying face, I immediately thought of my child at home.
He was just an ordinary kid whose parents were taken away. Anyone would do the same if their parents were killed in front of their eyes. I would do that too.
It's just that the boy has great power.
And that power gives him a chance to vent his hatred by killing the people he hates."
Allen weakened his grip, then returned his sword to Reig's body.
"I wish someone could teach that boy that taking revenge only adds more hatred, and it will only end up hurting."
That was the first time Allen could actually hold back the hatred inside him. Allen could not hate him once he saw his honest smile. That soldier really didn't think about his hatred anymore. He looked like a free person.
'I wish I could smile like that.'
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