How to Live as a Genius Scholar in another World

Chapter 9 – Sardis (4)

—–CROW—– 

Even though I had finally become an adventurer, I had to wait three more days before I could officially start working.

A proper plate served as identification and a license to take on requests as an adventurer. Until a new adventurer received it, they couldn’t even earn enough to eat, despite having paid 50 coppers to the guild.

So, many country bumpkins who rushed to the city with 50 coppers, thinking, “Yay, I’m making my adventurer debut!” ended up doing odd jobs for three days just to avoid starving.

The source was Professor Brammaton’s book. Every line in the book our advisor gave us was both entertaining and practical. It kept me from getting bored even on the ship to Şehir.

Yernara? I don’t know that bitch.

“Ahem, ahem.”

Anyway, with nothing to do for five days, I set out to find an inn to stay at for the time being.

I asked the receptionist just once more about good inns.  I felt a pang of guilt as her face, which had relaxed thinking she was done with me, stiffened awkwardly.

‘I felt bad, but I had no choice.’

The professor’s book said that Bronze-class and below couldn’t stay in good inns anyway, so I should go to places with many fellow adventurers or none at all.

It was better to ask, even if it was a bit awkward, than to regret it later after searching blindly on my own.

It was the law of nature that it was difficult to relax in a place with terrible food or security.

“Thief! You son of a bitch, stop right there!”

“Fuck off! You look more like a thief!”

“Bro~ken~ one-handed sword~ shield~ rusty iron~ I’ll buy~.”

“You fucking bastards! Why are you so loud in the morning?!”

This town was quite lively too. I gave a sympathetic look to the members of the lower class passing by.  Their vulgarity made it hard to believe that the place I was recommended was in this area.

Did the receptionist recommend this place out of spite for the newbie adventurer who kept bothering her?

Despite my doubts, I somehow arrived at the inn. “Sam’s Rest Stop.”  It looked fairly large and clean, comparable to the inns I stayed at while exploring ruins with Yernara.

However, it wasn’t a bellboy or a gruff innkeeper who greeted me.

—Whoosh!

A large figure was thrown out of the inn’s door like a sack of potatoes. I was startled by the sight of it flying towards me.

“Oh shit! It’s a flying Britannian!”

I dodged the figure, which was flying towards me with its heavy luggage.

Thud!

“Ugh!!”

The bald man, whose head was red from drinking, crashed onto the spot where I had been standing.

What the hell was going on?  Dumbfounded, I naturally looked towards the inn’s door, where the figure had flown out from.  More flying Britannians were emerging.

—Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

—Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Ugh!!”

“Urgh!!”

“Groan!!”

The saying that what goes up must come down was true. The flying Britannian people flew without wings, and because they had no wings, they fell.

Their flight was caused by the strength of one man. The man standing at the inn’s entrance, boasting muscles like Professor Brammaton, yelled at the fallen drunks.

“Get out of my inn! If I see you again, I’ll break your arms and legs so you can never work as adventurers again!”

What was the point of telling them to get out after throwing them out?  With the large scar on his face, he looked like a thug, no matter how you looked at him.

“Groan…”

“Ugh. Brother, let’s get up…”

The drunk bald man and his companions helped each other up and left in a huddle.  Their swollen faces clearly showed that they had been beaten up by the thug after getting drunk.

‘Let’s get out of here.’

I tried to slip away, pretending to be a random passerby, but the thug’s eyes had already spotted his next prey.

“Are you a customer?”

“No.”

“No? You’re standing in front of an inn with a load of luggage.”

Damn it, I was screwed. I had never regretted not being a minimalist as much as I did now.

I shouldn’t have asked the receptionist for an inn recommendation. This was definitely petty revenge.

“What? Was I mistaken?”

The scarred man looked genuinely puzzled as to why I was there, even though he had just beaten the hell out of four people and thrown them out.  That was impossible without the sociopathic mindset of someone accustomed to violence.

I cursed inwardly about ten times and said,

“…I am a customer. I was mistaken for a moment.”

I had known one thing since I lived on Earth: there was no point in acting tough in front of someone who was quick to resort to violence.

Thugs and bullies resorted to violence easily, so trying to act tough could get you into trouble. Just like it was better to quietly hand over your money if someone in shabby clothes asked for it in a back alley in America, before getting shot.

“Is that so? Come in.”

“Yes.”

*Thud, thud.*

I walked inside like a death row inmate being led to the execution ground.

Mentioning that I was recommended by the Adventurers’ Guild receptionist was the act of a third-rate tourist.

It might be code for “someone we can bury” among these people. The moment I mentioned the recommendation, I might be dragged into a truth room, stripped naked, buried in the ground, or kicked out.

I looked around, searching for an escape route. Like most inns in this world, it was a restaurant and bar that also rented out rooms.  The atmosphere inside was surprisingly lively, and there were quite a few ordinary-looking people.

“Dorca! Thank you so much!”

At that moment, an old man approached us.  It seemed the man who brought me in was named Dorca.

“Don’t mention it. It’s my job to kick out troublemakers from my inn.”

“Hehe. Don’t say that. I’ll come back with my friends next time.”

“I can’t refuse a customer who contributes to my sales.”

“That’s just like you. Ah, is the person behind you a customer? I was being inconsiderate. Please, continue with your business.”

No, it was fine if he continued being inconsiderate.  I would have been grateful if he had just kicked me out, but the old man left.

“…What happened to those people just now?”

I asked Dorca cautiously.  Seeing him converse with the old man, I thought he might be reasonable.

“They caused a disturbance in the inn. They picked a fight with a regular customer and tried to lay their hands on my wife when she tried to stop them. So I beat them up and threw them out.”

“I see.”

It was a much more normal reason than I expected.

No, it was even gentlemanly.  He had the muscles and scars of a thug, yet he spared the lives of those who messed with his family. He was surprisingly merciful, contrary to his appearance.

Thinking that way, his scary appearance seemed reliable. It felt like I had hired a bodyguard and a giant with cauliflower ears showed up.

“Anyway, welcome. As you heard, I’m Dorca. And our ‘Sam’s Rest Stop’ provides everything: meals, lodging, and drinks.  What do you need?”

Dorca, arriving at the counter, looked at me and asked.  I felt much more at ease and pointed to the luggage on my back.

“Lodging. I came to Sardis to become an adventurer.”

“I thought so. Ah, lodging is 3 coppers per night.”

“Huh?”

That was expensive. I blinked in surprise.

While 1 copper was the lowest denomination currency, it wasn’t cheap.

It wasn’t like old Joseon, where there were no low-denomination coins. 1 copper itself was a considerable amount.  The concept of micropayments didn’t really exist in this world.

Here, prices weren’t set according to the product, but rather products were sold at a minimum price of 1 copper.

A day’s worth of bread was 1 copper. Two cabbages were 1 copper.  A small chicken was 1 copper.  Something like that.

Buying a bottle of banana milk for 1,400 won was a modern concept. If they sold banana milk in this world, I would have to bring a jar, pay 1 copper, and receive 10,000 won worth of banana milk.

‘But 3 coppers a night for an inn?’

In the modern world, even cheap motels cost 20,000-30,000 won per night, but there weren’t many inns that charged 3 coppers here.

Was it like those motels near military bases charging 100,000 won per night?  Were they ripping off adventurers?

“But breakfast is included, and you can store your belongings in the storage room.”

“Ah, I see.”

Then it was acceptable.  If breakfast wasn’t just hard bread and water, it was a reasonable price.

Adventurers often carried expensive equipment, including armor and weapons.  If they left these things in their rooms and they got stolen, they would be screwed, so inns offered storage services.

It was easier to build a sturdy vault than to manage every room.

If the vault was robbed, the territory’s guards would get involved, so it was safe. There wouldn’t be any problems unless it was robbed by those terrorist-like thieves’ guild bastards.

“I’d like to book for three nights. I don’t have much money right now.”

“You must have just registered today. I understand.”

He seemed to get it right away.  Maybe he was a former adventurer.

I took out a 10-copper coin and handed it over. It was funny that there was no 0.1 copper coin, but there was a 10-copper coin.  It showed how little the nobles cared about the lives of the commoners.

“Have you eaten? I made a stew with some good pork today.”

Dorca asked, handling the larger coin.

“Bread, stew, and stir-fried vegetables for 1 copper. How about it?”

“Yes. I was just getting hungry. I’ll come down after I unpack, so please prepare that for me.”

As I said many times, 1 copper was a considerable amount of money. Even considering that eating out was generally expensive, the quality of the food here would determine whether I continued staying here.

‘I’ll move if it’s bad.’

A master’s salary was 2 silvers per month. 2 million won per month. Unlike 21st-century Korea, it was a top 50% salary here. It was money that would keep coming in until I failed to produce results and became a discarded egg.

‘…If my thesis hadn’t been stolen, I could have saved more money and bought a house.’

Feeling depressed, I forced myself to think positively. If I had bought a house, I might have attracted flies looking to steal my money.

With my current skills, even a beggar thief with a weapon was as dangerous as a tsetse fly.

It was better to stay here, considering the risk of theft. I wasn’t going to leave any expensive textbooks in my room anyway.

“Your room is the last one on the right on the second floor. Here’s the key.”

“Thank you.”

The key looked like the kind you’d get from an old guesthouse. A key with a number tag.  It was a world that felt medieval in some aspects and modern in others.

With nothing more to say, I went up the stairs to the second floor. My room was in a secluded spot, but the hallway was clean.

—Creak.

I entered the room and unpacked.  It was a small space with only a bed, a table, and a bathroom. A small box in the corner, meant to be used as a wardrobe, was the only other furniture.

It was a simple room, but I liked it because there was no mold on the walls or floor, and the sheets were clean.  I would still air them out in the sun later, just in case.

I sat on the bed and unpacked my belongings.

I had to carry Professor Brammaton’s book with me, as it would be difficult to find another copy if I lost it.  I put away everything except my wallet, weapon, and armor, and went back downstairs.

“Oh, you’re back quickly. The meal is ready.”

Dorca had already set the table.

As promised, the menu was stew, bread, and stir-fried vegetables. The stir-fried vegetables looked more like steamed vegetables, but they seemed like they would taste decent.

“Wow, the stew looks delicious. Your wife must be a great cook.”

I sat down and complimented him.  The red stew, filled with meat and potatoes, stimulated my appetite without needing any flattery.

But Dorca, who was setting down the cutlery, gave a wry smile.

“I made the stew.”

“Huh?”

“My wife isn’t a good cook. So I always take care of the main dishes. She handles the rest.”

Dorca pointed to a young woman who was busily serving drinks and food. She must have been his wife.

I was momentarily speechless, then I came to my senses.

“Oh, I see. Well, it doesn’t matter who cooked it as long as it’s delicious.”

“Right? You know what’s important.”

The innkeeper’s scarred face grinned, looking extremely menacing. With his looks alone, he could easily be called “boss” by the local thugs.

But the stew was delicious.

Delicious enough to make me want to stay here for a while.

—–CROW—–