Ch.130Chapter 130. Foreign Worker Jeong-hoon Young
by fnovelpia
# Nearly Three Years in This World
It’s been almost three years since I came to this world.
I was once just a Foreign Laborer, but after working as an adventurer, I’m now on the verge of being recognized as a hero. Ironically, I hadn’t planned on becoming an adventurer when I first arrived in this world.
When I first arrived, everything was unfamiliar, so I had to be careful with my behavior.
Even though it didn’t suit my temperament, I needed to adapt to my situation first and establish some foundation before thinking about my next steps.
I worked as a porter to adapt, working in a factory, and naturally, I spent time with other workers who had arrived before me or around the same time.
“Wow, is this a watermelon or a milk cow?”
“It’s a fucking cow, you bastard!!!!”
Every day started with such exchanges, followed by repetitive work of pouring molten metal or hammering iron in the factory.
With so many workplaces disregarding labor laws, overtime and weekends off were out of the question, and we were lucky if we got paid properly.
Some places provided room and board, but even then, the food was slop and the water was impure.
For a proper meal, you had to spend your own money, but with such meager wages, spending on food and lodging would leave you in debt.
The most cost-effective option was to mix sugar with leftover milk for calories and sleep in an alley near the factory, gathering discarded newspapers from nobles to use as bedding.
Looking back, it wasn’t a job fit for humans, but since porters were treated as expendable by heroes, it was hard to say which was better.
“If you don’t want to work, quit! There are plenty of others who will!”
Whether from employers or heroes, such remarks were common, making me constantly aware of how oppressed Foreign Laborers were in this world.
In such circumstances, the only ways to escape being a laborer were to save money and start a business, become an adventurer like me, or maintain enough dignity to catch a noble’s eye and become a servant in a wealthy household.
Naturally, any of these paths required a fair amount of money.
That’s why Foreign Laborers dissatisfied with their current situation generally made do with milk tea and newspapers while saving every penny to invest in their future.
“Yo~ Hyoseong~! Lend me some money~!”
Conversely, there were those who surrendered to the harsh reality and squandered their daily earnings on alcohol and brothels.
One particularly memorable character was a fellow Foreign Laborer named “Jeonghun.”
He would borrow money from me repeatedly but hadn’t repaid a single coin in nearly three years, the bastard.
“Did you forget about the money you borrowed last time?”
“Come on, I’ll pay it back with interest later, just lend me a little more~”
“…Sigh, I’m only lending it to you because you covered for my mistake last time.”
Still, he was quick-witted and perceptive, often covering for mistakes made by me and other colleagues, saving us from our employer’s scrutiny.
Considering that a debt, I would reluctantly lend him enough money for a few drinks whenever he asked.
“Haha~! I knew I could count on you, Hyo!”
“Stop with that ‘Hyo’ business. How many times do I have to tell you it’s Hyoseong Woo?”
“Whatever… Hey Hyo, I’m going to have some fun now. Want to come along? There’s an amazing new girl at the tavern~”
“No thanks, go enjoy yourself alone.”
His motto was “spend first, think later,” and after work, it was always alcohol and women…
He was a piece of trash who constantly borrowed from colleagues when his own money ran out, but thinking about him now, while I felt resentful, I couldn’t say he was entirely bad.
Everyone knew his behavior wasn’t great, but we still lent him money because we understood that having someone who enjoyed life every day helped lighten the atmosphere of our grueling work life.
Yes, despite our troubled relationship, I came to the funeral as the letter instructed, but…
“…What is this?”
When I arrived at the funeral tent, the first thing that escaped my lips was bewilderment.
The funeral taking place before me was far from the typical format in this world.
Usually, a poor person’s funeral would involve clerics placing an urn as a charitable act, with visitors coming to pray—a simple affair that would end quickly.
“Oh my goodness, Jeonghun~!!”
People collapsed on the ground, wailing sorrowfully.
And in front of them was a framed portrait of Jeonghun, designed exactly like what would be called a “memorial photo” in my original world.
“Excuse me, are you in charge of the funeral?”
As I stared at the scene in disbelief, I noticed a man in mourning clothes.
I approached him to understand the situation, and he bowed to me with practiced ease.
“Yes, I’m managing the funeral proceedings as previously agreed with the late Jeonghun. Here’s my business card.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
The card identified him as the director of an errand center, complete with an official imperial seal.
And not just any center, but one famous enough that even I had heard of it.
So, Jeonghun had hired an errand center to handle his funeral arrangements before he died?
And the letter sent to my address, despite our infrequent contact over the years, was because he had this person investigate his acquaintances?
“…I’m a bit confused about something.”
Even at this point I found it absurd, but thinking about it, that guy always had peculiar tendencies.
I decided to voice some of my concerns to the director.
“Aren’t funerals usually held in churches? Why did he go to the trouble of hiring an errand center employee to conduct his funeral?”
“He said that even in death, he wanted to be remembered. Especially by people from the same world as him—he believed that if the funeral was conducted in the style of their homeland, they would never forget him.”
“…Then, what about those people over there?”
“They’re actors from a theater troupe, hired to cry in front of the photo throughout the funeral.”
“Oh, Jeonghun~! Oh my goodness~!”
Once again, the mourners—no, the actors playing mourners—wailed sorrowfully in front of the memorial photo.
Realizing that the sincerity in those tears was merely a product of capitalism, I unconsciously blurted out:
“…Crazy bastard.”
To recreate a funeral culture that doesn’t exist in this world, he had to build everything from scratch, hire a renowned errand center director, and employ skilled actors…
Could this really be within the economic means of someone who only borrowed money for alcohol and never repaid it?
No, maybe he actually died because he borrowed from loan sharks and couldn’t pay them back.
Or even if he somehow got the money, maybe he fell while drunk and cracked his skull, or contracted syphilis from his lower body activities.
“Hmm, so this is how humans from that world hold funerals?”
Just as I was thinking that this level of pathetic behavior deserved to be exhibited in a museum, I faintly heard a voice.
Belatedly realizing it came from Merilyn who had accompanied me, I briefly shifted my gaze from the memorial photo to observe her.
She was looking at the funeral scene with half-closed eyes.
“Less impressive than I expected. Seems rather meaningless.”
“…Merilyn?”
“Oh right, since it’s a funeral, you should probably take time to mourn, shouldn’t you?”
There was a strange atmosphere in her soliloquy.
I was about to ask her about it, but before I could, Merilyn clasped her hands together and smiled broadly.
“Then, as an outsider, I’ll step away for a bit. When you’re finished, please meet me by the streetlight in that alley.”
“Ah, yes, then…”
And so, despite having come together, Merilyn left the tent and disappeared into the street.
Her steps were incredibly light as she left, but what I felt watching her was nothing but a sense of disconnect.
That’s because recently, whenever she left her residence, she was accompanied by quite a serious atmosphere.
‘I’m going out for a bit.’
‘You’ve been going out a lot lately?’
‘Yes, I have some things to investigate…’
As a minstrel by profession, it was understandable that she would wander the streets collecting stories.
But recently, she seemed to have lost her characteristic vivacity.
Was that atmosphere particularly faint this morning because she had resolved whatever concerns she’d been having?
****
Anyway, after spending some time at the funeral and having a meal, I left and headed to where Merilyn was waiting.
Although I had only come for a brief check, what happened there was so deeply etched in my mind that I was certain I would never forget it.
Damn him, if he spent all his money on the funeral, he could have at least provided a decent meal.
Serving the same slop we ate during factory days and calling it a meal?
“That guy never paid back money when he was alive, and he’s still messing with us even in death.”
Having skipped breakfast, I couldn’t help but feel angry.
But it wasn’t all bad.
I wasn’t the only one who came to the funeral; other Foreign Laborer colleagues who knew him came too.
Some of them were acquaintances of mine, so talking with them felt like attending a class reunion, filled with nostalgia.
Well, what’s the point of being angry at a dead man?
I’m not in financial need anymore, so I should be grateful for the chance to hear about friends I wouldn’t normally meet.
“Ah, Hyoseong. Are you finished?”
“Yes, I’ve completed my business.”
“Hehe, then shall we return home? Come this way, Hyoseong~”
As I came out to the street, Merilyn appeared as if she had been waiting.
As she walked ahead with a bright smile, I felt the same sense of incongruity I had experienced earlier.
“Is something wrong?”
“…No, it’s nothing.”
Wondering if it was just my imagination, I continued following her through the streets.
In normal circumstances, we would have exchanged some small talk, but Merilyn kept her lips tightly sealed, focusing only on walking.
Eventually, we entered a deserted path, and then a place hidden from everyone’s eyes.
“Merilyn, this isn’t the way home.”
“Aha, you didn’t know, Hyoseong? Actually, this is a shortcut…”
-Swoosh!!
With a swing of my hand, I created a magical spear.
As I pointed it behind me, Merilyn finally stopped walking and addressed me in a stiff voice.
“…Hyoseong, why are you suddenly acting like this?”
“Shut up and answer my question.”
No, this person is not Merilyn.
I had been feeling it since we met on the street this morning.
And as my suspicions grew, I began to notice behaviors that Merilyn would never display.
“Who are you? Where have you hidden Merilyn!”
This damn person might have harmed Merilyn.
“Sigh, this is troublesome. I thought I was hiding it well…”
At that moment of crisis, the person threw off the black cloak they were wearing, revealing their true form.
“This is why I hate perceptive youngsters~♡”
With a seductive voice.
A woman with flowing red hair, her sensuality prominently displayed.
0 Comments