Chapter 62 : Schindel Strasse (62)

A new day had begun.

Hans blinked his eyes.

Considering the ordeal he had gone through just yesterday, his body felt surprisingly well.

Perhaps it was thanks to the miraculous healing.

Or maybe it was due to the change in environment.

It wouldn’t be strange to toss and turn after sleeping in an unfamiliar place, but then again, how could he call himself a hunter if he lacked that level of adaptability?

More than anything, the environment was far better.

He didn’t have to wake up to the stench of coppery filth seeping through cracks, even with the window shut.

The streets were clean, and the bed was soft.

And the female form embracing him from across the bed was soft and warm.

“…?”

Gretel’s home in Schindel Strasse was far better than Hans’ place in Kumo Strasse.

He distinctly remembered being offered the guest room’s bed.

Whenever Hans woke up in bed with a woman, he had a habit of checking his clothes first.

Thankfully—or perhaps, obviously—nothing had happened.

After all, Alje was too innocent for anything more to have occurred.

Should he be relieved about that?

Or should he scold her for being so defenseless?

Perhaps his gaze had been too intense—because the girl’s eyes, still heavy with sleep, slowly opened.

“Mmm… Mister…?”

Even in her half-asleep state, Alje wasn’t the least bit startled.

She naturally accepted the fact that she was lying in the same bed, skin touching skin, with a man.

Well, she was the one who’d crawled under the covers without even Hans the hunter noticing.

“Good morning.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mm… Well, sleeping alone is lonely…”

Had Alje been overtly seductive, Hans might’ve felt repulsed by the loss of her innocence and been able to push her away more easily.

But the way she rubbed her eyes and whined still held the purity he longed for.

Not that Hans was a pedophile—though, considering Gretel’s appearance, he couldn’t be entirely cleared of suspicion.

At the very least, the purity Hans yearned for stood in stark contrast to anything sexual.

It was something he had lost—something that could never be protected within this labyrinth.

“And this bed is sooo soft… Hm, it does smell a bit unpleasant. But it’s fine—once it’s covered in your scent, mister, I’ll be okay.”

“Cut the nonsense and get up.”

His own obsessions and delusions had become shackles, but thanks to them, Hans was able to shake off the soft, warm female body and get up from the bed.

The girl still squirmed lazily on the bed, but soon, as if her drowsy and blissful expression had been a lie, she frowned and followed him up.

Understandable, since that bed had belonged to Gretel.

Still, even if Saints and Witches were sworn enemies, it wasn’t like their scent alone would trigger such an extreme reaction.

They do cooperate when necessary, after all.

Once they left the bedroom, what greeted them was a living room that looked like it had been neglected for quite some time.

“Ugh.”

Alje frowned slightly at the dust floating in the air, but Hans was actually quite satisfied.

Compared to the filthy pigsty he used to live in, this was more than tolerable.

The house was so spacious and clean.

And the rooms were even neatly divided by purpose.

Of course, they couldn’t enter the rooms Gretel had sealed off.

Still, they were allowed access to nearly half the rooms, including Gretel’s bedroom.

“So, what do we do now?”

“We’ll rest for a while. We’ve been through a lot lately… Ah, right.”

Hans fumbled through some rather old memories.

“You said you wanted to look around Heimvig, didn’t you?”

“Oh, huh? I did say that, but…”

Despite her having suggested it, Alje’s expression didn’t look particularly enthusiastic.

Makes sense.

If she had seen the state of Kumo Strasse, she’d probably choose to stay holed up at home rather than wander the streets for no reason—unless she was going to a bar or a brothel.

They’re just as filthy, sure, but at least the house has walls and locks.

“Haha. I can guess what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. Schindel Strasse has much more to see.”

“Really?!”

As soon as he said that, her face lit up again.

The entertainment in Kumo Strasse was mostly either depraved, brutal, or both—but Schindel Strasse was a lot better.

Or so Hans had heard.

Apparently, it even had things like libraries and theaters.

Compared to the outside world, its scale was probably much smaller, but for Hans—who had never been to such places even out there—it was a welcome change.

“Yeah. Though it might not quite be up to our dear Saint’s standards.”

“Ugh, don’t tease me.”

As was usually the case with such places, the admission fees were ridiculously expensive… but Gretel had paid him generously.

Enough that he could live comfortably for a few months if he wanted to.

Of course, considering he’d be helping Gretel again soon, he couldn’t afford to rest for that long.

But since he was now living in a place he could never have dreamed of before, he figured he might as well indulge in a bit of luxury while he could.

The concept of “saving money” didn’t exist in Hans’s mind.

“Yeah, the streets here were clean from the start. Definitely sounds better. Mm-hmm, I’m getting excited!”

“Sorry to spoil the mood, but we can’t go right away.”

“Huh?”

“We need to eat breakfast first.”

*

Unfortunately, Alje’s excitement would have to wait a little longer.

They’d been so tired the night before that they just brushed off some dust and passed out.

But since they planned to stay here for a while, proper cleaning was a must.

Their earlier excitement about the house’s spaciousness now seemed ironic, because its size only made things harder.

Hans had intended to just tidy up the kitchen enough to make simple meals.

But once Alje got fired up, the cleaning turned into a full-blown deep clean that lasted into the afternoon—long enough to make doing anything outside that day pretty inconvenient.

“Uggghhh…”

Having spent the day so excited and active, Alje was now completely drained, flopped over in exhaustion.

Logically, someone with her level of physical ability shouldn’t be tired after just a few hours of work—but mental fatigue was a different story.

“I’m huuungry…”

No, at this rate, things might become a bit more serious.

Seeing the little protrusion poking out from Alje’s lips, Hans quickly spoke up.

“Okay, shall we eat?”

“Yeah!”

Hans began lighting the fire in the hearth with practiced ease.

He hadn’t lived here, but back when Gretel had more leisure, he’d been invited over quite often.

Naturally, all the chores had fallen on him.

He remembered it well—the way Gretel would casually throw a comment or two at him while he moved busily around.

Said she absolutely hated living in the Tower.

That she often ran away here just to avoid seeing the wrinkly old hags’ faces.

Though now, despite how beautifully decorated the place once was, it was covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Mister?”

“Oh, yeah. Just a second.”

A girl’s voice—similar yet completely different—pulled him from the past back into the present.

Everything was so familiar.

The gently burning fire, Hans preparing food here and there, the girl watching him from behind.

The only difference was, back then, the girl had owned him.

Now, he owned the girl.

The cooking wasn’t anything fancy.

But since this was Schindel Strasse, they had white bread instead of black, a clear soup, and even a crisp-roasted thigh of a Saminho beast.

That was the beauty of cooking in a hearth—the intense heat helped burn away much of a monster’s noxious essence.

Of course, you couldn’t avoid using witchweed powder altogether, but at least you could reduce the amount needed, and even mellow out some of its bitterness.

“Let’s eat.”

“Yay!”

The smell was fantastic, though the taste likely wouldn’t live up to expectations.

Hans placed the dishes one by one.

Alje, apparently very hungry, dove straight into the roasted monster thigh.

Suddenly, Hans grew concerned.

Now that he thought about it, witchweed wasn’t just unappetizing to humans—it was far worse for monsters.

But Alje was chewing away happily, and the little protrusion that had poked from her lips earlier was now retracting back inside.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah!”

“I thought the witchweed might ruin the taste for you. I should’ve prepared something else.”

“Eh, it’s fine, really!”

Could it be that mimic monsters could even overcome the effects of witchweed?

“You worked so hard to make it for me, didn’t you?”

“…”

“I heard this from the maid lady—not my mom, but the other one. She said that when it comes to food, the heart of the cook is just as important as the ingredients.‘Love’ is the best seasoning there is.”

Alje took an exaggerated bite of the meat.

“It must be true. It just tastes so good to me… Hmm? What’s wrong, Mister?”

“…It’s nothing.”

Hans answered with his head resting on the table, recalling the thoughts he’d just been having.

“It’s just… I feel like such trash.”