"Hey, aristocrat! Go pick up the stones that dropped over there!"
"O-okay!"
"Aristocrat! Where's that map from?!!"
"One... one second!"
"Oh, you slacker! I need a potion, quick!"
"I... *sigh*... I'm coming..."
When he first heard the word "mine," Noah imagined a hole a hundred meters deep in the ground. Picks, Davy lamps, heat, darkness, and exhausting work.
He had only been right about two points—it was extremely hot in this place, and he worked like a slave.
But in his defense, who could have guessed that what this girl meant by "mine" was a castle where rivers of lava snake through the ground?
Yet, that was exactly the kind of situation he had unwillingly found himself in.
———
Let's rewind a bit to earlier in the day, when Noah, somewhat accidentally, agreed to work for Kate.
"(Wait, a mine? You want to make a convalescing young girl work in such a place?)"
Kate raised an eyebrow. "You're... tired?"
Noah nodded. That wasn't exactly what he was trying to convey, but it was close enough.
Kate crossed her arms over her chest thoughtfully.
"I'm not saying no, but how are you going to eat if you don't work?" She squinted. "Don't think you're going to keep eating my money. If you felt that bad, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed and started casting spells on people's walls."
"(Wait, there's a reason for that. Actually—)"
"Oh, and why don't you talk to me normally? It's not easy to grasp a stranger's intentions, you know? I can't say I like the doubt I feel every time."
"(Actually...)"
He stuck out his tongue. Kate's eyes widened like saucers—a reaction he was used to.
"(Ah, here we go again)," he thought.
This was the moment when his interlocutor would slowly back away—maybe scratching here and there or spitting—and leave him all alone. Anyway, this time, maybe this whole Muddy Tongue situation would let him escape forced labor.
"Ah, that's going to be a problem."
Kate had already resumed her normal expression as she fiddled with her hair. She seemed more interested in "solving" his problem than the problem itself.
"(You don't have any issues with my curse?)"
Noah knew it was pointless to ask given her reaction, but he had to make sure somehow.
Kate turned to him with a raised eyebrow, as if he'd asked a ridiculous question.
"Afraid of you?" she asked mockingly. "Who? I bet I could take you down anytime I want."
"(I see.)"
Noah didn't know if that reassured him, but he already felt a little freer.
"But, it is a problem," Kate repeated. "I wanted to assign you to Doll with the sorters outside the mine, but that's not going to work anymore."
"(Hm? You know Doll?! Oh, well, of course, since you came here, but...)"
Noah stopped his train of thought, seeing Kate's suspicious and accusatory look. That's when he remembered—she said she could sense his intentions, not his actual thoughts.
"(I'm innocent)," he thought, putting on his most serious expression.
Whether she caught on to what he meant or not, Kate continued with the same expression on her face.
"You'll come with me instead. It's better."
"(Injustice!)" he cried internally, keeping his serious expression.
"Hide your joy," she replied, letting out a sigh.
In truth, she wasn't any more thrilled about the situation than he was. The inside of the mine wasn't a place for someone as scrawny and seemingly lost three-quarters of the time as he was, but it wasn't like she had a choice.
"Alright, let's not waste time," Kate said, opening the bag she'd brought. "Wear this. I'll borrow one of Doll's outfits."
She handed him a black outfit consisting of several components, including gauntlets, greaves, and what seemed to be a mouth mask.
"(*Sigh* This looks heavy. Are we going to war or something?)"
"Oh, we might need to cut your hair. It's a bit too long; it'll probably be a problem in today's mine."
"W-what?! N-no!"
Did she know how much time he'd invested in that hair?! Over time, he'd come to appreciate the beauty of his avatar—those long lashes, that soft, well-cared-for skin. The only problem was his messy head of hair, which gave Vasilisa a wild squirrel look.
He, despite his lack of experience in hair care, had managed to give her silky smooth locks—the kind of miracle only beginners can pull off. They were perfect! Perfection itself!!!
Unfortunately, as a wise man once said:
"Perfection must one day touch the ground."
—Noah, date unknown, location unknown.
"(Ah! Goodbye, perfection!)" he lamented, on all fours on the ground.
"When you're done with your drama, maybe we can leave?" Kate said, putting away the cursed scissors that had stolen the masterpiece of his life. "Otherwise, make up your mind, huh? Are you sad or happy? I mean, you act like your world ended, but you seem to be enjoying yourself deep down."
"(Sometimes acting overly dramatic amuses me. What? Does that bother you?)" he thought, glaring at her.
"See, even now you're not serious," Kate replied, crossing her arms. "Stop playing around. You're acting like a little girl. We've got stuff to do, you know?"
"(Hmph! I'll remain a misunderstood genius even in this world! So be it!)" he thought, standing up.
However, Kate's words had somewhat struck him. Indeed, it might be this attitude, this generalized lack of seriousness, that had led him to where he was in his past life. This tendency to only take things seriously when they didn't matter, and to neglect what did—it was perhaps his greatest flaw.
At this moment, for instance, he knew that following Kate wasn't the best thing to do—there was no proof she had anything to do with his recovery, even if she seemed to know a few small things about it. Plus, he'd likely benefit more from figuring out why and how he'd ended up in this world. If this really was a video game, then these people were just unimportant NPCs—shouldn't he be finding the main quest or a logout screen? Anything that would help him move forward.
But what was he doing instead? Wasting time with virtual girls. And now he was ogling one while acting like an idiot in front of the other, like a juvenile fool. Want to work in a mine? Sure, you've got a pretty face, so why not! A real clown.
"*Sigh*"
"Uh... is something wrong?" Kate asked as they were about to leave.
"No."
Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to say no anymore. Somewhere along the line, he didn't know where to start when it came to doing what mattered. That's why he preferred these distractions—they, at least, didn't require him to walk in the dark without any lamp to light the way.
If this Kate and this mine served as his lamp, even just for now, then he would follow them for as long as needed, even if it was pathetic.