Chapter 67

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 67

Chapter Title: A Resounding Success

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Cutting straight to the chase, the scout proposal was a grand success.

Baroness Pavron accepted my offer with tears streaming down her face.

It made all the various plans I'd prepared to convince her feel utterly pointless.

When I couldn't hide my bewilderment at how the negotiation(?) wrapped up in an instant—far quicker than expected—she dabbed at her reddened eyes and added,

"Lady, while I am a fan of comics, that alone wouldn't have made me join the story production."

"Ah, then why...?"

"Because you're such a good person, Lady. I want to work with you."

Am I a good person?

But her face was filled with such unwavering conviction that I couldn't argue further and simply nodded.

'I just followed my heart.'

In truth, helping Baron Pavron this time—and trying to mend his relationship with the Marquis Embrose couple—was ultimately for my own gain.

Maybe because the praise came from such an unexpected source, I couldn't shake off the fluttery feeling even as I climbed into the carriage.

"Miss."

It was just as we were nearing the teleportation circle.

Bonita, who had been quiet the whole ride, finally called out to me.

"Yes?"

She'd been unusually silent earlier. Was something wrong?

After hesitating for a moment, as if steeling herself, Bonita slowly spoke up.

"I'm so glad everything worked out."

"Ah, yeah? I wasn't sure what I'd do if she turned me down, so it's a relief."

I gave her a gentle smile in response, but Bonita sneaked a glance at me and put on a worried expression.

"But lately, you seem a little tired."

"Me?"

"Yes, your complexion is so pale... And you didn't sleep properly last night either, right? Isn't that true, Ian?"

Ian, who had accompanied us this time due to the adjusted work conditions, nodded at Bonita's words.

"It looks that way to me too."

And his gaze was intensely piercing.

'What's with that look?'

He always reminded me of the duke whenever he got like this—probably because of the resemblance.

Anyway! It made me reflect on my recent routine.

'Last night, with the baroness recruitment looming, I couldn't sleep thinking about all the variables.'

Ever since launching the comic book business, things had linked up seamlessly with the Poretta leather and tumbler production—no room for rest.

And that made sense, since I was the one overseeing and driving everything forward.

There was no one else to take over if I didn't.

"But still... it's awkward to ask for help."

Besides, for my original goal of 'self-reliance,' I couldn't afford to lean on others.

I muttered to Bonita, who was still furrowing her brow, like a half-hearted excuse.

"Since I took this on myself, shouldn't I see it through? Haha."

But the more I talked, the flimsier my excuses sounded.

Hmm... yeah.

Honestly, I was a bit tired.

Work always drained a certain amount of energy—that was par for the course. And when the tide was high, you had to row; rest was a luxury from my position.

Even for a total shut-in like me who loved holing up at home.

"Still, it feels like you're pushing way too hard lately."

"I'm fine. And with teleportation circles for long trips, isn't it actually more comfortable?"

The motion sickness was the real issue, though.

As I mentally drafted letters to Marchioness Embrose and Lady Golbro for later, I forced the brightest smile to hide my fatigue.

"Yeees... that's good, then. But if you're tired, please take it easy."

"Yeah, thanks, Bonita."

It felt oddly novel to have someone fretting over me like this.

In that spirit, maybe I should suggest some tasty snacks together when we get back?

"We've arrived."

Lost in such idle thoughts, the carriage came to a gentle stop.

Fortunately, the Pavrons' home was near the capital, so the teleportation circle wasn't far.

With Ian and Bonita flanking me, I stepped onto the magic circle under the mage's now-familiar guidance.

But right before it activated, a sudden thought hit me.

"Um, Ian."

"Yes."

"Th-that friend you mentioned before... the one who suffered from teleportation sickness like me."

His expression turned peculiar as he looked down at me, clearly thrown by the random topic.

"...Did he ever find a treatment?"

As a mercenary, he'd have needed to teleport long distances often for jobs—couldn't have avoided the misery.

And humans always find ways to overcome discomforts.

I'd asked in hopes he might know some handy folk remedy.

"That friend..."

Fwaaah!

As the mage finished chanting and bright light enveloped us, Ian—his face a bit complicated—spoke gravely.

"Is no longer of this world."

"...What?"

Before I could process his words, my vision blazed white, and a twisting nausea overwhelmed me.

'Wha-wha-what—dizzy!'

It had been worse than usual coming here, but this was beyond—vertigo slamming my skull.

Why was this happening?

In that disorienting instant where up and down blurred, violent nausea surged, and I crumpled to the floor—or what felt like it.

'Ah, gon... gonna die.'

A faint scream-like cry was the last thing I heard before blacking out.

Bonita.

A local from the Brail region in the empire's north, she was a fortunate girl who entered the duke's residence young and became a main house maid ahead of her peers.

Far superior treatment than other noble houses! Pay! And kind masters to boot!

In a place where even those arriving with top recommendations from distant lands often left rejected, the pride of serving as an official maid was immense.

But lately, even she had a serious worry.

"No, that's not it. I need a more effective compromise."

"Ugh, gotta redesign the tumblers... any ideas?"

"How many hours will today's meeting drag on...?"

It concerned the lady she served.

Bonita hadn't anticipated worrying this much when she first laid eyes on April.

The servants had all whispered suspiciously about her upon her arrival at the duke's residence.

April's true nature emerged with the comic book venture.

"Ah, Miss... are you sure you don't need sleep?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I have to wrap this up so the others don't pull an all-nighter."

"But Miss, do you really need to push yourself? The hired artists should handle the rest—that's natural..."

That was Bonita's common sense.

Yet April tilted her head, puzzled.

"They're part-timers. I can't underpay them more than their work warrants."

"Huh?"

"Ah, we haven't settled overtime pay yet... Anyway, don't worry about it."

Bonita hadn't grasped half of April's words back then.

But soon after, seeing the contract stipulating 1.5 times pay for hours beyond the standard shift, she finally understood.

"So many employers think 'you get your salary—work extra without whining.' Isn't she really an angel from God?"

Though initially suspicious, April's reputation soared daily, filling Bonita with ever-growing pride in her service.

And she'd vowed to support her faithfully going forward, but...

'I'm so worried about Miss.'

April's busyness had escalated to where even tracking her sleep was impossible.

Bonita assisted as much as she could, but with no proper rest, her condition only seemed to deteriorate.

That's why she'd voiced her concern subtly on the way back from Baroness Pavron.

Thud.

"Ah, Miss!!!"

Sure enough, upon reaching the teleportation circle near the duke's residence, April collapsed like a ragdoll with severed strings.

"Wh-what do I do! Miss... are you okay!?"

But April didn't move an inch.

Witnessing her pale face drenched in cold sweat while lying motionless, Bonita's heart plummeted.

To the point it felt like she might actually die...

"Step aside."

Ian rushed over, issuing the cold command in a voice unlike his usual self.

"Y-yes!"

As Bonita reflexively moved, Ian hoisted April onto his back and bolted off.

'Hold on. That voice... that tone...'

Staring blankly at his retreating back, Bonita's eyes widened in shock.

"No way?!"

But verifying the dawning suspicion could wait.

Bonita shook herself and hurried after.

It was a full-blown emergency!